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inawickedlittletown · 2 days ago

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Through The Darkness To The Dawn - (BuckTommy) - 4/6

Notes: Yes, you did see that this was originally two parts. Well, after 8x18 I really wanted to continue it. Summary has been updated and I hope you guys like it.

Title comes from Nobody Knows by The Lumineers.

Summary: 8x17/8x18 coda. Buck is grieving, Eddie is the worst, and Tommy is the soft place that Buck needs to deal with it all.

Words: 3.8k

Read on Ao3

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four: Live The Day, Do What You Can

Tommy hummed under his breath. Don’t Stop Me Now was catchy as it had been the day before when he was working in his garage, music blasting, and then suddenly going down in volume, Evan’s way of getting his attention. Tommy had found Evan leaning against the open door, his arms wrapped around paper bags full of groceries. This time, it was the opening and closing of his front door that brought him out of the song and made him place the plate he was drying back down on the rack.

“Evan?”

Tommy stepped out of the kitchen and down the hall, meeting Evan halfway.

“My car won’t start,” Evan said, his shoulders slumped as he pulled his phone out. “I’m going to call Ravi.”

“Ravi? Evan, I can drive you.”

“Not for me,” Evan said. “I was supposed to pick up Eddie and Chris. I’m hoping Ravi can swing by and get them so I don’t have to tell them to get an uber. And hey, I can get an uber, I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“If I can’t fix it in the next half hour, I’m driving you, Evan,” Tommy said.

While Evan made his call, Tommy headed out to where Evan’s car was parked. Tommy’s driveway — really the garage — was the reason that Tommy had bought the house way back when. It was a two car detached garage with a wide driveway. It also meant that Evan’s truck was parked next to Tommy’s car rather than behind so he wasn’t blocking him in. There was that at least.

Tommy tried turning on the car and immediately knew that it wasn’t anything as simple as a dead battery. The clicking sound was a dead giveaway. It was the starter and while Tommy was fairly certain that he could probably get the car to start, once Evan turned it off at the station, there was a good chance he wouldn’t get it back on again without Tommy’s assistance. One thing that Tommy had learned about Evan in their time together was that he was absolutely clueless when it came to cars. So, once he turned it off, he would be stranded.

“And?” Evan asked.

“Fairly certain it’s your starter,” Tommy said.

“Which means?”

“That I’m driving you to work and that I’ll get a better look at it when I get off my shift. I’ll probably need to change out your starter motor. Put your stuff in my car and I’ll go get mine.”

“Tommy, I can get a—”

“Nope,” Tommy said. “It’s alright, I don’t mind. Really.”

He hadn’t planned to head out for another forty-five minutes, but he didn’t mind leaving a bit earlier to make sure both he and Evan made it into work on time.

“Did Ravi answer?”

“Yeah,” Evan said. “Offered to come get me too, but I didn’t want him to go out of his way too much.”

Tommy hadn’t expected to see Evan the night before, not when they had already had breakfast together, but when Evan appeared in his garage, he’d been thrilled to see him. It had made something in his stomach swoop. After dinner, they had cuddled on his couch while watching a new nature documentary. Evan hadn’t left afterwards like Tommy had expected him to. Having him in his bed again even if all they did was sleep together was something that Tommy couldn’t take for granted. He wanted a repeat of it every day.

They had yet to discuss the topic of them and Tommy was glad that so far whatever they were hadn’t crossed the physical line past a few kisses and cuddling. Slow was better in some ways even if he was as attracted to Evan as ever. It was just that the first time around they had rushed right into things despite Evan being new to being with a man. It had been shocking and exhilarating and it had definitely wound up in them not going about things the right way. Maybe if they had talked more, there would have been less surprises. Then, the first time they saw each other after breaking up had wound up with them falling into bed together. They had to do better this time.

They were a little early for Evan’s shift and Tommy could admit that it felt strange to be there again. The last time had been at the medal ceremony. It was a place he associated with so many memories. Some good; great, even. Bad ones too. If Tommy didn’t think about it, he could even believe that Bobby was still inside there somewhere, but he wasn’t. He never would be again.

“Do you want to stop in and see everyone?” Evan asked when Tommy pulled into the station.

Tommy had enough time even with crosstown traffic, but he shook his head. That was probably a step too far.

“No,” Tommy said. “That’s okay. I don’t want to run into Gerrard. I know he’s been better, but he’s still—”

Tommy didn’t add that he didn’t really want to see anyone else either, not with the things he’d heard from Evan lately. Eddie in particular, Tommy couldn’t imagine not giving the cold shoulder to, and that would only raise questions for the others.

“I know,” Evan said. “Don’t, uh, don’t worry about picking me up.”

“But if you need a ride you’ll call me?”

“Maybe.”

“Call me,” Tommy insisted. “And be safe.”

“You too,” Evan said and then he leaned across the console, placed a hand on Tommy’s face and placed a kiss directly on his lips.

Tommy kissed him back and when Evan pulled back, Evan lingered for a moment just looking at him. Tommy looked back. They could have sat like that for ages. The thing about them was that they were like magnets, always pulled to each other.

“I should—” Evan motioned behind him.

Tommy watched Evan, duffle slung over his shoulder, walk into the station. He didn’t stay much longer before he drove away. He did stop at a favorite bakery of his to pick up some donuts as a treat for everyone at Harbor.

Some hours later, donut boxes crammed into the garbage bins and a couple of calls under his belt, Tommy settled into an armchair. Lucy was already there and the TV was turned to the news.

“If you are tuning in now, first responders are facing the tumultuous task of finding the residents of this high rise apartment building which collapsed a few hours ago due to an explosion whose source is yet unknown,” the reporter said.

In the camera behind the reporter, the camera settled onto the closest firetruck. Engine 118. As the camera pulled away from that, they saw men and women in uniform rushing around the rubble and into the remains of the building. Tommy could spy a few injured being brought out too. As the camera panned over to the building, Tommy felt Lucy place a hand on his arm.

“Hey, they’ll make it out of this. They always—” Lucy trailed off. “Sorry, I guess they don’t, but they will. They will this time.”

Tommy forgot sometimes that Lucy had worked under Bobby too for a time and that she likely felt similarly to him.

“They will,” Tommy said.

Lucy nudged him. “Have you talked to any of them? How are they doing?”

Tommy’s mind went to Evan. The first night he’d come to him looking like a shadow of himself, but he’d looked better the day before even if there was no denying the cloud of grief and sadness that clung to him. This morning, he’d been almost back to himself over breakfast, as if for some moments he had been able to forget or stop thinking about Bobby. That was just the way that grief went and as far as Tommy could tell, Evan was coping well.

“I saw Evan,” Tommy said. “Haven’t seen or heard from the rest of them since the funeral. I guess I can’t blame them.”

“No,” Lucy said. “How is Buck?”

“He’s doing his best,” Tommy said. “He’s thinking about transferring to another station. Actually, he’s pretty sure he will.”

Lucy’s eyes widened. “What? Hey, you should tell Cap, she’ll definitely be interested in bringing him over. Any station will. But wait, why? This is Buck we’re talking about. He loves the 118. I heard he even sued the department so he could keep working there.”

Tommy didn’t like to gossip, but he did need to talk to someone about it and Lucy knew the 118. She’d worked with them. Lucy probably knew more about that lawsuit than Tommy did since Evan had never talked to him about it. It had happened before her time there too, so maybe not. From what Tommy could tell, Evan didn’t like discussing it and neither did anyone else.

“I guess ever since Bobby passed things haven’t been the same,” Tommy said.

“What did he expect?”

“Maybe for them to be there for each other?” Tommy asked.

He was still more than a little annoyed about it.

At that Lucy frowned. “What does that mean?”

So, Tommy explained. He told her about Evan coming over the other night skin cold and deep bags under his eyes. How isolated he’d been feeling, how Eddie had made him feel selfish and put Bobby’s death on him and how no one seemed to care or see how hard he was trying not just with his own grief, but with being there for them as well. He didn’t tell her about Bobby’s last words for Evan and how much that alone had colored the way Evan dealt with his grief.

“Wow,” Lucy said. “And I thought…I don’t know, I guess I thought they were all way closer than that. Codependent, even.”

Tommy shrugged his shoulders. “Me too. I guess…well, they’re all dealing with it differently. Evan just feels like he’d be better off taking himself out of the picture and starting fresh at another station. And no, not this one.”

“Why not this one?”

Tommy could actually see Evan at Harbor. Not as a pilot, but helitack. The very image of Evan getting lowered on a rope from a helicopter to rescue someone both worried and excited him which was yet another reason for Evan to not work at the 217. Lucy seemed to catch on to his line of thought, going by her eye roll.

“Because this wouldn’t be a fresh start,�� Tommy said. “For one thing there’s me and for another there’s you. He needs to go somewhere where he isn’t known where he can prove to himself that he isn’t that naive probie that Bobby helped shape into a great firefighter.”

That was how Evan had put it the night before while they ate dinner. Evan had cooked a pair of amazing pork chops with garlic mashed potatoes and perfectly steamed asparagus. Tommy had never really gotten the hang of cooking asparagus right. His always came out overcooked, softer without any crunch. Evan had even gone through the trouble of making them dessert. Chocolate lava cakes. It was when they were finishing up dessert that the topic came up.

“Hey, so have you decided on the transfer?” Tommy asked.

After taking a sip of wine, Evan nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it.” Evan said. “I think when Gerrard asked me about becoming Captain I realized that it would never work at the 118. They don’t respect me, they still see me as little more than the probie that was too rash and that won’t ever change because they can’t accept that I’ve grown and changed. I don’t know, a part of me thinks they’re convinced I’ve regressed now that Bobby’s gone.”

“Evan, that isn’t true. I know they know how skilled you are.”

“Maybe they did, but I think they’ve forgotten and now they’re all treating me like I’m made of glass and if that’s how things are going to continue then why stick around?”

Tommy didn’t want to influence Evan’s decision. He did feel like Evan had a point and yet he also knew that once those first waves of grief left not just Evan but Hen and Chim that things might change and get better. But if Evan’s plan was to move up and get to the point of becoming Captain then a transfer was the right move at least professionally speaking. There was also of course the changing of the guard that was happening at the 118. Tommy had asked about that too and Evan had gleefully told him about that Gerrard wasn’t sticking around. Apparently he liked his cushy Hollywood gig too much. Evan expected Hen to take on the Captaincy and considering she had covered for Bobby, it only made sense. So how would Evan do when Hen took over as Captain? A change in dynamic like that would shake things up and Tommy didn’t know if that would help or hurt.

Lucy’s lips pressed into a line. “I see that,” she said. “But he does realize that everyone’s heard of him? Getting stuck under that truck, the lawsuit, the time he was struck by lightning, and even the tsunami and all the people he saved. No matter where he goes he’ll be something of a legend.”

“I think he can get past people thinking he’s cool,” Tommy said.

Lucy laughed. “Unless it goes to his head. But, I don’t think it will. He actually…he gave me some good advice when I went viral. Anyway, I guess at the 118, it’s like when you’re the youngest in the family so you’re always the baby no matter how old you get. They never see how you’ve learned and grown from your mistakes. I get that.”

“So, he wants a fresh start. I get that way too well. That’s what Harbor was for me, leaving the 118 was one of the best decisions I made. It’s not the same, but it isn’t the worst thing for Evan to want to move forward especially after losing someone as important as Bobby.

Lucy nudged him. “Hey, tell him he can call me. I’ve been through a good portion of the LA stations.”

“Sure,” Tommy said.

On the tv, the reporter was once again bringing everyone up to speed when suddenly the camera captured someone ziplining from the collapsed building to another. The reporter didn’t seem to know what to say.

“Something tells me that your boy was involved in that somehow,” Lucy said.

Tommy had no doubt she was right.

The news coverage moved on to something else, so Tommy tuned it out. He’d texted Evan as soon as they heard the call go out and the 118 was included, hoping that he might see it on the drive over. It was something they used to do when they were dating and he just hoped that Evan would follow through with responding once the call was over. Despite knowing that it would take hours, Tommy still checked his phone from time to time. He finally had to put his phone away when a call requiring air support came in and Tommy had to rush out to the helicopter.

Hours later, when he was back from a medevac, Tommy finally checked his phone again.

Evan: I’m safe. Everyone got out of the building. No casualties. We’re headed back to the station soon.

Tommy didn’t even pretend that he wasn’t relieved. He also wanted to see Evan with his own eyes.

“Told you he’d be fine,” Lucy said.

With his shift at an end, Tommy didn’t even bother heading home. He headed instead towards the 118. Evan was supposed to be on a twenty-four hour shift, but Tommy knew from experience that the station would be offline until b-shift arrived. So, Evan probably needed a ride and Tommy wasn’t going to wait around to see if Evan would call not to mention that Tommy needed to see Evan with his own eyes and ascertain that he was unharmed. He didn’t even consider that he might have to face Gerrard or the rest of the 118. Tommy didn’t care, not when it came to Evan.

The trucks had just arrived at the station when Tommy drove up, backing into their positions to be ready to head out whenever they were needed next. Tommy found a spot to park and he walked over, hearing the familiar sounds of tired firefighters as they got out of the trucks. He stopped on his way when he heard Gerrard’s voice. It almost took Tommy back to a different time when he belonged to the 118. Except that Gerrard was praising them and thanking them and that…well, Tommy had never heard that from him ever before. It was more than a little weird. Back in the day, even when Gerrard said something nice to them, it was always followed by how they had also screwed up. Often times, it was usually just him praising himself and tearing down whoever his victim of week or month was. Usually the probie.

Tommy had just shaken the weirdness when suddenly it was Chim’s voice carried towards him. He edged closer.

“—is transferring out and nobody is staying in Texas. This is our firehouse. This is the 118 and it’s not just a number,” Chim said. “It’s us and you’re right, Buck—”

Tommy stopped at the sound of ‘Buck’.

“—things are never going to be the same again because Cap is gone. But leaving won’t change that and it won’t make you feel any less sad. It just means that you’ll be sad alone.”

It was maybe exactly what Evan needed to hear and possibly exactly what he didn’t need right at that moment. Had Chim bothered to express that to Evan before this? Had they spoken one on one, or was Chim doing this in front of everyone? Tommy kept moving forward past dust covered firefighters that eyed him but still didn’t stop him.

“Bobby died so that I could live and that’s screwed me up in ways that I cannot express but the truth is he would have done that for any one of us,” Chim said.

Tommy felt for him. He had known that Chim would take it hard, had seen proof of that at the funeral. The survivor’s guilt alone on top of grieving Bobby, he couldn’t imagine that Chim was doing any better than Evan was. They should have been dealing with it together.

“You see, he knew that just coming into work every day there is a chance that one or more of us would not make it home and his job above everything else was to make sure that we did and we’re all standing here right now because of him. And this team, we are his legacy.”

Tommy caught sight of Chim. He stood among all of them. Eddie was nearest to him, looking a little out of place in his white shirt. He spotted Evan and Hen by the laundry bin. Everyone had stopped to listen to Chim. Some of the firefighters hadn’t even finished taking off their turnouts. Despite being within his eyeline, Evan didn’t see him.

Evan stood there absolutely covered in dirt and dust and debris. He looked absolutely filthy and somehow delectable all at once and Tommy got a little distracted looking at him. His little frown, the way that he looked tired and not just physically. Mentally. Tommy wanted to bundle him up and put him on his couch and hand him a cup of tea or a beer — whatever he wanted — and keep him as happy and rested as possible. A different part of him wanted to undress him and lick him all over.

“So, we can miss him and we can mourn him and we can even curse his name, but we are not going to disrespect him by throwing away what he built right here. So, you hang up turncoats, you hit the showers, you go home, and you get some rest ‘cause we are all gonna see each other on our next shift right here together. Understood?”

Chim started to walk off.

“Copy that, Cap. I mean, Chim,” Hen said. A freudian slip if ever there was one.

Tommy almost snorted. He did clap his hands together. “Quite the speech there, Howie.”

A few of the firefighters turned, including Chim. Eddie’s forehead furrowed.

Hen looked confused, eyebrows raised. She looked between him and Evan. Evan for his part had grown a smile.

“I’m here all week. I do graduations, birthday parties, weddings,” Chim said.

Tommy just shook his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“So, uh, what brings you around these parts?”

“Heard you guys were out at that building collapse. I wanted…well, I wanted to check in.”

“Well, we all made it out and sticking together. I hope. That’s what Bobby would have wanted…he didn’t take the fall for us to fall apart.”

It was a nice sentiment. He could tell that Chim believed it and he couldn’t blame him for it. It didn’t change that actions spoke louder than words and in the weeks since Bobby’s death, Evan had felt alone and ignored and like the rest of them didn’t care one way or the other about him.

“I should…I promised I’d call Maddie when we got back.”

Tommy nodded.

No one else spoke.

They were probably all feeling the same way he did, like Chim had put his hat in for Captain. His speech had sounded like it was made by the leader of the firehouse. Gerrard had practically ceded the floor to Chim and Chim had taken it. Tommy just didn’t know how fair it was of him to demand that Evan stay or that Eddie stay — hadn’t Evan said Eddie bought a house in El Paso and accepted a job there? There was no easy way for him to move back. More importantly, why should Evan stay just because Chim said so? He hated that for Evan it might have been enough to convince him even if it was for the wrong reasons.

He turned towards Evan.

“Hey,” Tommy said.

Hen was still looking between them. Assessing.

“Tommy,” she said. “Fancy seeing you here. Everything okay? Can we help you with something?”

She actually made a move to stand a bit in front of Evan as if Tommy was there to hurt him. Evan stepped around her, giving her a look.

“Just a little early to pick up Evan is all. He had some car trouble this morning.”

Eddie made a sound that sounded like a scoff. “Oh, I should have known. He’s been going over to your place every night. Didn’t know you were back together.”

Hen frowned.

“We’re, I mean I don’t—”

“That’s not—”

He and Evan spoke at the same time. Tommy rubbed at the back of his neck. “We haven’t discussed things, not that it’s any of your business when we do get back together officially.”

Evan’s smile was beatific.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

Evan’s smile dropped. “I guess it’s only okay when you don’t keep me in the loop,” he said. “Figures. I’m going to clean up and get changed and we can go, Tommy.”

“Sure,” Tommy said. “Take your time.”

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #911 abc #911 fic #tommy kinard #evan buckley #coda

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naughtyneganjdm · 2 days ago

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Threads of Desire - Chapter 8

Summary: Y/N goes to dinner with Negan and his family where tensions are high leading Y/N and Negan to grow closer.

Characters: Negan Smith, the reader (OC), Jordyn, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61111030/chapters/169959844

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, etc.

Notes: I recognize I haven't updated this story in a very long time, but I have been so crazy busy that I just haven't had the time to edit the things that I have written. Now, I have some more time on my hands, so I will do my best to finish this story as soon as I can. I want to finish the stories I have so I don't feel guilty about leaving things unfinished. I know this was originally a Christmas story (I'm sorry), but now we'll just have that be a background thing instead of focusing on it. Winter themed stories in summer never hurt, right? Once again, sorry for taking so long to update. Thank you if you do decide to continue on to read it. If you want to read the other chapters since it has been so long, be sure to check them out here.

Life was not going the way that Y/N expected it to. After attending that event with Negan for her old college, it felt like a big part of her life changed and in a very significant way. Things never went this way for her. So much was changing and it was doing it at an incredible pace. Looking forward to her future was not something she was used to, but she felt hopeful. Especially in terms of her job. Even if she knew that it could lead to some drama. Sadly, she couldn’t tell if she was handling everything well or not. It was hard to admit that while she was excited about certain aspects of her life, sometimes? She was overwhelmed.

With the position that Guy offered her at work, she knew that Maggie would eventually erupt on her. Their friendship had been running on its last leg for a long time now and when Maggie found out about the job offer that she accepted, she was certain their friendship would be over. And honestly? She didn’t know how she felt about that. For so long she catered to Maggie because of the past and because of a promise she made. Now? She had stopped taking Maggie’s shit. She was pushing back against things lately. It wasn’t normal for her, but Maggie was a constant in her life. Even if it was a shitty constant, it would be strange no longer having her in Y/N’s life.

That ultimately made her think of Daryl, the man that was incredibly furious with her earlier in the day for accepting the job at Vixen. What was sad was that Daryl was the first person she told most things in her life to because she trusted him. Daryl was the number one person she had always confided in. She was always honest and open with him. So to have him angry with her over something that she so badly wanted in her life? Now that was very upsetting.

Guy was also a new curveball. When Guy started to insert himself into her life, she thought it would be something negative. Someone that would haunt her and be a pain in the ass. Especially after Negan warned her about Guy. For the longest time, she thought Guy was a piece of shit and, well? That really didn’t change much, but he was a piece of shit that she actually liked. Instead of one that she thought she should be afraid of. Someone she thought would ruin her life in order to get what he wanted from her actually turned out to be someone that felt like a friend.

And then? There was Negan. The man she had yearned to be seen by for almost a decade. Now that he was finally seeing her, she felt awkward about it. Having the attention of someone who had been so blind to her affections felt strange. Even though it made her feel good, there was a guilty sensation that ate away at her causing her to question everything. Right now? She didn’t know what was stressing her out more. Daryl, Maggie or Negan?

Most of her life, she always overthought everything. Saying her mind never stopped would be an understatement. So right now? It was working overtime trying to play out every scenario and situation. As of late? Things felt like a dream. Some kind of warped reality she made up due to lack of sleep. Never did she think Daryl would be the person to not support her. Nor did she ever think she’d stand up to Maggie or have the attention from Negan that she had so desperately wanted for so long.

Even now, seated beside Negan at the front of his car while Jordyn excitedly talked about the day she spent at work with Y/N felt surreal. Over the last few years, she had stepped up to be Jordyn’s mother. But a lot of her parenting and Negan’s parenting? It was done separate. Never really together, unless it was something official. So being together, interacting with each other like a family? It was a feeling she wasn’t used to.

Gazing between Negan and Jordyn made her smile. To match Jordyn’s excitement, Negan’s voice was raised trying to put forth as much energy into the conversation and it was sweet. Getting to see Negan interacting with his daughter was always a gift in itself. It was one of Y/N’s favorite things about Negan. How Negan was as a father always appealed to her. How she felt was a strong sense of joy and happiness in the moment. But it was confusing. This didn’t feel like it was a moment that should belong to her. Negan was still dating Maggie. Nothing about them was official as far as relationships went, but there was a warmth growing at the center of her chest enjoying the moment that she was witnessing. This was the kind of life she had always longed for. Getting to experience it like this? It brought forth a lot of conflicting thoughts, but she knew right then and there? She was happy.

“How long do you think he will take to make the dress?” Jordyn questioned, inviting Y/N into the conversation since she had been quiet throughout most of the discussion. “It seemed like he was really going to do it.”

“Oh, I think he’s going to make the dress for sure. I’m not sure how long it will take him to have it made. I’ll have to talk to him about that,” Y/N addressed the question with a big smile, happy to see that Jordyn both enjoyed her time at work with her and was looking forward to the promise that Guy made her in creating the dress for her. “It was a really beautiful design that you came up with Jordyn. I think it will turn out great.”

“Maybe you’re turning out to be like Y/N and you’ll have a knack for fashion design,” Negan winked, squeezing his fingers tighter around the steering wheel while he drove. Nodding his head about, Negan’s lips parted, but he stopped himself from saying something that was obviously on his mind. Whispering, he finally built up the strength to ask what he wanted to. “So…we like Guy Vixen now?”

Pausing to consider that question, she knew why Negan was asking it. Especially since he knew details from Maggie about the situation at the start. Outstretching his hand, Negan placed it in over Y/N’s and gave it a small squeeze.

Swallowing down hard, she became nervous. Earlier when she told Daryl about accepting a job at Vixen, Daryl was very disappointed in her. Would Negan react the same since he didn’t want her working there either after he found out Guy wanted to sleep with her? That night Negan had begged her to accept a job with him, so would he also be frustrated with her for the decision she made?

“I think we do,” she alerted Negan, biting down on her bottom lip. There was tension in her body, not because they were talking about Guy, but because she was afraid of how Negan would respond. Right now, Jordyn seemed to be distracted in the backseat of the car watching something on her tablet. They had stopped at a light and Negan looked to her for some kind of visual confirmation that things were okay with the man in charge of the company she worked at. “Guy actually offered me a position at Vixen. A real one. Not one where I’m just someone’s assistant. It has a huge pay raise and it’s technically the job that Maggie had when she started. I’d get my own office and everything.”

“No shit?” Negan’s raspy voice grumbled, his dimples becoming slightly more prominent when he gave a nod and looked to make sure the light was still red. “Just like that, huh?”

“Yeah. He’s been having me working with him the last few days and I think he might see the value in having me around,” she thought aloud, noticing that Negan’s grasp on her hand grew tighter. Although, it was more of a supportive squeeze and not one of anger. Here was the hard part. Telling him that she accepted the job. “I agreed to take it. He’s already raised my pay and at the start of the year I’ll have the new position. I just have to sign a few more papers and then everything will be set.”

“I can’t tell if this is something you’re happy about or not because I’m getting mixed emotions from you,” he muttered, giving her another once over. Hell, he wasn’t wrong. There was joy in the fact she was getting this opportunity, but she didn’t want Negan to have the same reaction that Daryl did. “He didn’t force himself on you or anything, right?”

“No, I made it clear that I don’t want that from him and it’s never going to happen,” she responded only after she made sure that Jordyn was still distracted with what she was doing. Nodding his head, Negan gave a weak smile. “I am happy about this. It’s what I always wanted. To work with him and really have an opportunity at the company.”

“That’s awesome then,” he asserted, his smile growing larger now that he knew how she felt. It felt like a huge amount of weight had been lifted from her chest realizing that Negan was supportive of this decision instead of being upset with her. “I’m excited for you. And just know, if it doesn’t turn out to be what you want, I will always be on back burner to find you something else if you want to.”

“You’re not upset that I took the job?” she was almost afraid to ask causing Negan to snort out, giving her an odd expression.

“Why would I be upset with you? It’s your life. It’s your decision and it seems like it’s one that makes you happy,” Negan noted with a shake of his head, his nose wrinkling at the idea that she thought he would be upset with her. “As long as you’re comfortable and safe, that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you,” she exhaled loudly, her fingers hooking tighter with his. Forcing herself to look away from him, she was incredibly relieved to know that he wasn’t like Daryl. Instead of being offended, he was actually very supportive of her.

“Did you think I would be angry?” Negan inquired, his thick eyebrows bouncing up in realization that she was so tense, visibly worried about telling him.

“It’s complicated,” she didn’t really want to take the time to tell him about Daryl, especially since that was something that was between her and her friend. Involving Negan would only make things awkward. “I just didn’t…want you upset with me.”

“If I get mad at you for something like that, you can put me in my place,” he huffed out, shaking his head as he spoke. A lump developed in her throat realizing in that moment she was comparing the differences between Daryl and Negan. The one that was meant to be her best friend condemned her while the other was very supportive. “I was a little surprised to know that you talked with him about me.”

“Yeah, well…” she sucked in a sharp breath of air when Guy came to mind. “Sadly, I think he’s become more so a friend that is way too interested in my personal life.”

“I noticed,” he snickered, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand while he continued his drive with his other hand. Recalling the odd interaction between him and Guy earlier made him snort again. “He seems to support the things that went on with us.”

Knowing that it was an inappropriate conversation to be having in front of Jordyn, she sighed loudly and just nodded her head about, “So…what did you two talk about in terms of me?”

“Not now,” she whispered under her breath getting a wicked smirk to tug at Negan’s handsome features. There was that arrogance that Negan had. “You gave him more details than I did. He just knows we haven’t fully…”

“Uh huh,” Negan’s eyebrow arched with him gazing back over his shoulder to make sure that Jordyn wasn’t paying too much attention to what they were saying. “I mean, we started to. I just only got the first couple of inches in.”

“First couple of inches into what?” Jordyn spoke up from the back with Y/N reaching to smack at the center of Negan’s chest. Choking, Negan sat up straighter in the car and let out a nervous breath. “Why are you two acting weird?”

“I was just talking about the car honey,” Negan lied, his face flushing over with red. Clearing his throat, Negan shook his head and tried to think of something to quickly change the discussion. “So, are you excited to see your grandparents?”

“Smooth,” she spoke quiet enough, cringing at the idea that Negan’s daughter could somewhat hear what they were saying.

Trying to sway from the discussion, Negan got Jordyn to talk about her grandmother for a few until there was a moment of silence again. Speaking quietly, Negan pulled his hand back and placed it on the wheel, “So, does that mean we are official? Now that your boss knows.”

A small laugh escaped her throat and she was more so amused that was his question, “I guess that all depends on you. Maybe we’re officially fucked up. Because if I remember correctly, you are still dating Maggie, aren’t you?”

“I’m working on that bit,” he frowned, biting at his bottom lip when he released an upset breath that their playful banter led them to Maggie.

“We can’t be official when you’re still with her,” she suggested realizing that Negan tensed up when she brought up Maggie to him.

“You won’t let me break up with her Y/N. I’ve tried. I wanted to text her, you told me that was wrong. I tried to do it today at work, you didn’t let me do it then either. I’ve tried to break up with her and I plan to,” he promised, his throat tensing with the vein at the side of his neck becoming slightly more prominent. “I just haven’t gotten ten minutes alone with her to the point where I can. I keep getting thrown in these situations.”

“Breaking up with someone through text is just so…fucked up,” she noted eliciting an annoyed breath from Negan who adjusted in the driver’s seat beside her. “And as far as breaking up with her at work? Jordyn was there and it would have caused a massive shit storm.”

“I’m pretty fucking sure she knows I’m about to break up with her,” he claimed with a tip of his head, curling his fingers tighter around the steering wheel. “I think that’s why she was avoiding things so much. She’s trying to think of a way to stop it from happening. The next time I’m alone with her, I’m breaking up with her. That’s why I don’t think this thing between us…”

“You can’t have both of us Negan,” she stressed to him causing a loud rumble of a sound to fall from his throat. “Dating us both…”

“With the intentions of breaking up with Maggie as soon as I can,” he bickered back with her, his eyebrows furrowing as he spoke. “I want to make things official between the two of us.”

“You can’t do that when you belong to someone else,” she reminded him, a sense of sadness flooding into her features when Negan stole a quick glance over at her. “You understand that, right? You hated what you did to Lucille when you were married. You told me that.”

“And I told you, Maggie isn’t Lucille,” he countered, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat as he spoke. “I don’t regret what happened between us. And I won’t. I thought I would. I thought it would bother me. And for a little while, I let it. But now I know how things are, now that I’ve experienced things a certain way…I want you. If you wanted to be with me, you could be.”

“Okay, so what if I agree to things? Then what? What happens if you have me and then you decide I’m not good enough?” she rambled on, keeping quiet enough in hopes of Jordyn not hearing. There was a sound coming from the backseat from Jordyn’s tablet which made Y/N more at ease realizing Negan’s daughter was distracted.

“We’ve only scratched the surface and I’m fucking addicted,” he scoffed, a muscle in his jaw flexing. Hearing that only perplexed her. Was it true or was it something that he only felt because this whole thing was new between them? Sometimes, a taste of something new was addictive at the time, but the longer it went, the less appealing it became. So what was it? This was everything she wanted him to say years ago, but now it felt almost wrong. “I know you don’t like the idea of cheating, but with two people who are meant to be together…”

“Are we?” she asked, her voice broken. It sounded nice, but she didn’t know if that was honest. “What if you only feel this way because I’m something new? There is something intriguing and exciting about an affair, but there might come a time where you realize it was Maggie that you truly love. And then I become someone completely that I didn’t want to be.”

“My relationship with Maggie was bound to end at some point soon,” he pointed out as he pulled into a parking garage in the area they were meant to be. Huffing out, he looked disappointed that she was sticking to her guns about this. “She couldn’t keep pretending to be someone else around me this long. It wouldn’t have lasted.”

“Really? Because she did a fucking great job for four years,” she countered surprising Negan with her response since it was a smartass remark. “It’d be one thing if she only just started dating you, but four years is a long time Negan. Truthfully? I’m surprised you two aren’t married already. Especially with how in love with her you appeared to be. By how eager people were to meet Maggie at that event, I would have thought you were going to ask her to marry you this Christmas or something.”

“Hmmm…” Negan swallowed down hard, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat when he considered that comment. Honestly? It made him feel guilty because he did ask Maggie to marry him. Multiple times in the past. And every time she turned him down. Which infuriated him at the time, but he was thankful that she had done that. Pulling into a spot, he was quiet for a moment and debated telling her that. If he did tell her that, he didn’t think this would go well. At all. Exhaling loudly, he shook his head and turned to look at Y/N. “Maggie isn’t the marrying type. I think we both know that. I have never been able to see a future with Maggie. I appreciated not being alone, but when it came to marriage? No.”

Was that a lie? Sort of. Maggie didn’t seem like the marrying type. But, saying it like that didn’t mean he didn’t try. It just wasn’t telling her every detail. Maggie never wanted children with him nor did she want to get married. That was something she made very clear. Negan at the time just hoped she would change her mind. However, Y/N was a great mother to Jordyn and she didn’t seem like the type that wouldn’t want to get married.

Unfortunately, his relationship with Maggie was something that he was very confused about. Because he was fairly certain most of it was fake. And he started to wonder if Maggie ever liked him in the first place. In his opinion? He felt like Maggie had done everything purposefully. Like it was a game for her. Something to intentionally keep Y/N and Negan separated. How could there ever be a future in that? Maggie went out of her way to take advantage of Negan only to hurt her best friend. And he fell for it. Which ultimately made him feel terrible. If Maggie hadn’t done what she had he wondered if him and Y/N would have been together. Maybe they would have been married by now. They could have had another child, but instead he was pretty much in the same place that he was right before Maggie had gotten with him.

“My whole opinion of Maggie changed once I found out what she had done. What she’s been doing,” Negan admitted, looking down toward his lap with a long exhale escaping his throat. More than anything he was disappointed in himself that he let things happen the way he did. “You can’t come back from that. Even if it was a four-year relationship.”

“I see,” she didn’t know how to respond. What could she really say to that? It was a sensitive topic for her to even approach or think about.

“Everything okay?” Jordyn questioned from the back of the car noticing the silence that was between the two of them. Looking back at Jordyn, Negan gave a nod and sighed loudly. “Is grandma and grandpa here or…?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Negan broke the silence, digging his phone out of his pocket to check to see if he had gotten a text.

Thankfully a text from Negan’s mother confirmed that they could walk to the restaurant which would hopefully put a stop to this conversation. It was nice at first but as the conversation went on, it got harder to deal with.

On the walk to the restaurant, Jordyn was eager to hold both Negan and Y/N’s hands. Being with the two of them seemed to make her very happy. That was one thing that was nice about today. Getting to spend more time with Jordyn. That was something that Y/N always looked forward to.

“I think this is cool,” Jordyn blurt out, looking between the both of them with a big smile. “It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to go out with my dad and my mom.”

“Your…” Negan paused, his eyes growing wide at the idea of Jordyn calling Y/N her mother. Surprise flooded into Negan’s features and he looked to Y/N. Considering Jordyn had never really called her that before, it wasn’t something that Negan had been expecting. After Guy said what he had at work today, obviously it was something that had been lingering in Jordyn’s mind. “Your mom?”

“Y/N,” Jordyn bobbed her head in the direction of Y/N, giving a big smile. Tipping her head back, she looked between both Negan and Y/N before shrugging. “The way I see it? She is pretty much my mom, right? I mean she does everything for me. She goes to all the special events. She takes care of me. Mr. Vixen called her my mom today and I think he’s right. I know she’s not my real mom, but…she’s been there my whole life. So she might as well be my mom, right?”

“You don’t have to call me that though,” Y/N thought aloud, wanting to put it out there that she didn’t want to take away the title from Lucille. That was the last thing she wanted. To erase the memory of Lucille from their lives. “I’m okay with just being Y/N.”

“She’s not entirely wrong though Y/N,” he pointed out, clearing his throat when he thought about what his daughter had said. “Lucille will always be her physical mother, but you’re really the only mother she has ever known.”

“Exactly,” Jordyn skipped along, letting out a shuddering sound with the cold air that was surrounding them. “It’s not often the three of us get to spend time together. So I like it. We should do it more often.”

“I agree,” he stammered, nodding his head in response. “I think the three of us make a good team together and we should spend more time like that. We should have been doing that all along.”

After a moment of thinking something out inside of his head, Negan cleared his throat before speaking up again. Giving Jordyn’s hand a tight squeeze, he offered up a weak smile and nodded toward Y/N, “Do you like spending more time with Y/N or Maggie?”

“Daddy, that’s a pretty silly question,” Jordyn chuckled, looking back at Y/N who honestly seemed to have lost some of the color in her face. “Maggie is okay, but I just told you that Y/N is like my mom. And your mom is always more special.”

“So that means you would be okay if I started spending less time with Maggie and more time with Y/N?” Negan confirmed with his daughter who happily nodded her head about. While this was something that was touching to Y/N, it was something that she wasn’t sure they should be talking about. Especially since Negan was still dating Maggie and involving Negan’s daughter in this didn’t feel right. “Because I was thinking of having Y/N start to spend a lot more time with me. With you. With us.”

“Like…having her move in?” Jordyn blurt out and it made Y/N’s heart race at the idea. This is why she was wishing that Negan didn’t involve his daughter. This wasn’t something that an eight-year-old was going to understand well. “Because that would be awesome. We could have sleepovers in my tent all the time. We could do movie nights. That would be so cool.”

“Well, maybe eventually we would go to that,” he considered, a smile tugging at his lips with his daughter getting excited. Really, she seemed to enjoy the idea of having Y/N around more and that was a good thing in his mind. “But I just want us to be together more often. Sometimes spending the night and we will see about everything else.”

“I would be okay with that,” Jordyn assured them, looking between them with a big cheesy smile that mirrored that of Negan’s. More than anything that was Y/N’s dream six years ago. Hell, that was still her dream four years ago. And while she would love it now, she didn’t know how she felt about everything. Even though she loved Jordyn with everything that she was, something about all of this still felt very sour. “When are you moving in?”

“Oh, I’m not…” Y/N panicked, her face growing hot with her heart skipping a beat in her chest. This was exactly why she didn’t want to involve Jordyn in this right now. Especially with nothing being official or even started yet.

“There is my grand baby,” a woman’s voice called out, thankfully pulling Jordyn’s attention from the conversation. A moment later Jordyn was releasing their hands and running out toward where Negan’s parents were waiting for them.

“What are you doing?” Y/N reached for Negan to pull him in closer to her when Negan’s mother pulled Jordyn into a big hug after kneeling down. Negan’s bright hazel eyes were gazing into hers with her shaking her head. “Negan, involving Jordyn in this when you’re not even broken up with Maggie…”

“Look at them,” he whispered, stepping in closer to Y/N while they stood together outside in the cold. Nodding over toward his parents with Jordyn, Negan swallowed down hard and shook his head. Closing the distance between them had Negan’s words vibrating against her ear and it drew chills down her spine. “I don’t want to end up being like my mother.”

“What does that mean?” she stepped back, her eyes gazing upon Negan with him biting down on his bottom lip when his mother called out to him. His eyes narrowed as he moved toward his mother to wrap her up in a big hug. Standing back, she watched Jordyn excitedly talk with her grandfather while Negan spoke to his mother. The way Negan just said what he did had chilled her to the bone. Yet? She didn’t understand what he meant by that.

“Look at you,” Negan’s mother boasted, letting go of Negan to step forward toward Y/N. Holding her arms out, she waved Y/N in for a hug which Y/N happily accepted. One nice thing about Negan’s mother is that she was always kind to Y/N. Accepting her quickly into the family and never being rude to her. Y/N met Negan’s mother when Lucille was still alive. Even though it was strange, Y/N had consistently been around Negan so she had grown to know Negan and his family pretty well. “My God, you are beautiful. Look at you. You are just glowing.”

“I was thinking the same exact thing about you,” Y/N smirked, reaching down to grab a hold of Negan’s mother’s hands to give them a tight squeeze. “You haven’t aged a day Mrs. Smith.”

“I love this one,” Negan’s mother boasted out, happily shaking Y/N’s hands about. “I don’t think I’ve seen you since Jordyn’s birthday, but the little one talks about you so much, I feel like we’ve never really been separated for long.”

“Well, we will have to change that,” Y/N insisted, laughing when Negan’s mother moved in to give her another big hug. Just beyond them, she saw Negan’s father stepping in beside him. While Negan had some of his mother’s traits, the genetics were strong on Negan’s father’s side of the family. There was no doubting that the man standing beside Negan was his father. He was shorter, completely white haired and chubbier than Negan, but everything in the man’s features showed that he was Negan’s father. When Negan’s father placed his hand in over Negan’s shoulder, she could see that Negan cringed at the touch, but he was doing his best to hide it. Almost immediately Negan pulled from his father to reach down to pick up Jordyn. It was his attempt at hiding that he didn’t want his father touching him, but Y/N knew why he had done it. He may have hidden it well, but she knew Negan was not a fan of his father. Giving Negan’s mother one final big hug, she pulled away and sighed loudly. “Maybe we will have to do something weekly together.”

“Oh! Like a girls’ night. We can bring Jordyn along and the three of us could do something special every week,” Negan’s mother agreed with her, nodding over toward Jordyn who seemed very enthusiastic about the idea of that. “I would love that.”

“You know, you were not the face I was expecting to see,” Negan’s father finally spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “I was expecting to see that stuck up one. The one with the pretty green eyes, but visibly wants to be other places whenever we are around and looks like she would rather crawl out of her own skin.”

“Maggie won’t be joining us today,” Negan informed them, with a deep rumble of a sound as he pulled Jordyn in closer to his chest. Hooking her arms around Negan’s shoulders, Jordyn cuddled in closer to her father. Sadly, Negan looked lost. Being around his father seemed to immediately shut something down inside of him. “I promise you Y/N is better company.”

“Oh, we don’t question that kiddo,” Negan’s father snickered, patting Negan firmly on the shoulder several times. Grimacing, Negan’s eyes slammed shut and Y/N knew Negan would rather be anywhere but there. “Does this mean that you two publicly acknowledge that you’re knocking boots and you’re an item? Because if so, it’s been a long fucking time.”

“Dad,” Negan’s face went red and both Negan along with his mother looked like they could have died on the spot with Negan’s father saying what he did.

“What does that mean?” Jordyn could tell that whatever was said was something bad, but Negan immediately shook his head. “Knocking boots?”

“It means that daddy is in a relationship with Y/N,” Negan responded, his throat tensing up when he told his daughter somewhat of the truth without going into details. “And to answer your question…” Negan swallowed down hard, looking out at Y/N who seemed fixed on him. “It’s complicated.”

“What isn’t complicated with the two of you?” Negan’s father rumbled as someone from the building called out Negan’s name. Heading into the restaurant, they were seated at a table where Y/N was between Negan and Jordyn. Jordyn wanted to sit by her grandmother and Y/N, so this was how they ended up seated. “Negan, I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted you to break up with that woman. While she was nice on the eyes, I never understood why you started dating her in the first place.”

“Honey, you’re embarrassing him,” Negan’s mother warned his father which had his father dramatically rolling his eyes and waving his hand about in the air. Finally giving her attention to Negan, his mother shrugged her shoulders and spoke softly. “We’re just surprised it took this long is all.”

“What do you mean by that?” Negan muttered, his smile unsure with him shifting in the seat beside Y/N uneasily.

“Anyone with eyes could see the two of you were together,” Negan’s father claimed, waving his hand back and forth between Negan and Y/N. Negan was thankful his dad used the word together instead of knocking boots. Still, Negan could tell that Y/N was ill at ease with the assumption. “We just assumed you two had a fight and that’s how Maggie came into the picture. Just a rebound woman to replace what you were missing with Y/N.”

“Wow,” Y/N stammered, speaking quiet enough so only Negan heard her in that moment. Dropping her head down, she couldn’t believe that Negan’s parents actually believed that Maggie was the rebound. When that was so far from the truth.

“You used to talk to me all the time about being in love with a younger woman, but we already knew,” Negan’s mom recalled, helping Jordyn to pull up something on her tablet while they talked. “You were so scared to tell us, but we had accepted the relationship long before you were trying to tell us about it. You were always beating around the bush.”

“I’m just curious, how did you figure that the two of us were together?” she blurt out and she could tell that was not a question that Negan wanted her to ask. Especially with everything that was going on between them with Maggie. Placing his hand in over hers, Negan shook his head, but she motioned him to wait. “What were the signs?”

“Honey, cover Jordyn’s ears for a minute,” Negan’s father asked of Negan’s mother who gave her a husband a glare but did as she was asked. An amused giggle fell from Jordyn with Negan’s father speaking up quietly. “I don’t know if I’m right, and no judgements from me if I am, but I always thought the two of you were sleeping together when Lucille was still alive.”

“Honey,” Negan’s mother hushed, but his father just continued to ramble on causing his mother’s face to flush over with red.

“Obviously, your mother thought otherwise, but you don’t just keep some hot little college thing around your wife all the time,” Negan’s father insisted making Y/N’s face go hot and she forced herself to look away from Negan’s father. Clearing his throat, Negan coughed and couldn’t believe his father actually said that. “You were always touching each other. Always so close to one another. Lucille never seemed worried about it, but it wouldn’t have been the first time you cheated.”

“Thanks for that dad,” Negan grumbled under his breath, his jaw twitching with anger when his father reminded him of the fact that he wasn’t loyal during certain stages of his marriage.

“I’m not, we didn’t…” Y/N finally lifted her head, shaking it as she spoke. “I wouldn’t have done that to Lucille. Lucille brought me into the family and treated me very well. I couldn’t have done that to her.”

“Then I guess you were right honey,” Negan’s father noted, leaning in closer to his wife while he continued on the conversation. “As far as realizing the two of you were going heels to Jesus was how often the two of you were together. I can’t tell you how many times we stopped by to check in on you only to see you two in bed together sleeping. It’s not that hard to realize that you’ve just gone to pound town when you’re in your skivvies son sleeping in bed with a hot young thing.”

“Jesus Christ, for the love of God please stop,” Negan begged of his father, his heart hammering in his chest at the euphemisms his father was using to describe sex. By the look on his father’s face, it was obvious his father didn’t understand why Negan was getting so worked up. “You’re in front of Jordyn.”

“Her ears are covered,” his father blew it off like it was nothing. “You do this thing with your eyes son and you looked at her in a way that made it look like the moment we were gone you were going to pounce on the poor thing.”

“What he’s trying to say…” Negan’s mother interrupted before his father could make things any worse. “There was something in the way the two of you looked at each other. Something that was undeniable. At first, I wasn’t the biggest fan of the idea of all the time he was spending with you since you were his student, but with how well you took care of my boy and my grandchild? I didn’t mind,” Negan’s mother explained why they assumed Negan and Y/N were together in the past. Yeah, they slept together in bed a lot of times, but that’s all it was. Two friends comfortable enough with one another that would talk endlessly during the night and just fall asleep beside one another. Back then, Y/N thought there was more because Negan was desperate to cuddle her. But it took a while for her to realize that it meant nothing. He just wanted to feel like he wasn’t alone. Now? Negan’s mother was focused on Y/N. “I could tell your love was pure for Negan. You looked at him with so much love that I knew when he was going through so much, he’d be okay. And trust me, for a while I wasn’t so sure he would be okay. But you saved my boy. The more you were around, the more I saw the old him returning to us after Lucille passed away. Soon enough, I was spending more time with you than I was Negan. That’s how much you were around. No one does that if they don’t love someone.”

“Fuck,” Negan released a small rumble of a breath, his eyes gazing upon Y/N who just looked sad. His parents were confirming everything that Y/N had said in the past and it made him feel guilty that things ended up the way they did.

“What broke the two of you up in the first place?” Negan’s father wondered, waving his hand about like it was finally alright for Negan’s mother to uncover Jordyn’s ears, but Negan’s mother shook her head since the conversation was still going. “Was it a fight? Did Negan cheat again? I mean…”

“Again?” Negan slurred, an annoyed breath escaping his throat with his father throwing his hands up in the air to almost justify his actions. That was the second time his father brought it up tonight. “Yeah, Negan cheated again. That’s how he ended up with Maggie. Is that what you expected to hear?”

“I’m not surprised to hear it,” Negan’s father stammered, leaning back in his chair to stare out at his son. “Lucille was your high school sweetheart. And she was perfect. You were always very good at fucking up the best things in your life. Your school. Baseball. Lucille. Y/N…it’s a surprise that Jordyn turned out so well.”

“Well that was just mean,” Y/N blurt out in anger with Negan turning his head surprised to hear her speaking up in the first place. Sure, she was upset with the discussion in realizing that Negan’s parents saw the things in her that Negan never did, but this was not something you would expect to hear from a father. “What if I was the one that cheated? I was the young one. Maybe I broke Negan’s heart. Why do you assume the worst in Negan all of the time? The reason Jordyn turned out as well as she did is because of Negan. He’s a great father. And I see it in everything he does with his daughter. She’s not going to question when she grows up if her father loves her or not because he will never make her doubt it.”

“You weren’t the cheater,” Negan’s father snickered, going to say something further, but the waitress returned to get their drink order. Negan’s mother finally released Jordyn’s ears when it seemed like the discussion may have been over. Thankfully, Jordyn didn’t seem to care much that she was left out of the discussion since she was watching something on her tablet. “Your dedication to my son was very pure. The only thing that would have fucked up your relationship would have been him being an idiot.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Negan scoffed, rubbing at the back of his neck in a moment of tension. “We weren’t together because of me. Because…” Negan motioned toward Jordyn again and his mom covered her ears after Negan suggested she do so. “Because I fucked her best friend.”

“Negan,” his mother breathed out from where she was seated watching Negan give a dramatic smile and throw his hands up in the air. “Honey, that was loud.”

“Well, us Smith boys do tend to get loud,” Negan snarled, releasing an annoyed exhale. Biting down on his bottom lip, Negan folded his arms out in front of his chest and he could see that Y/N was staring out at him. “I guess I just have a thing for fucking up with my significant other’s best friend.”

“Not something to be proud of son,” Negan’s father corrected Negan after Negan announced what he had done to Y/N. “Probably shouldn’t say that when she’s sitting right next to you. The woman was nice enough to take you back after all of that. I guess she’s more like Lucille than we thought. You certainly have a type, don’t you?”

“What can I say? When it comes to cheating, I learned from the…” Negan bit down on his bottom lip realizing where this conversation was going. And that was heading toward a fight with his father. Yeah, Negan wasn’t the best of people, but his father was no better. Considering his father was an abuser most of his life both physically and mentally, this wasn’t a discussion that felt right. Especially knowing his father was unfaithful as well for as long as Negan could remember. It was the pot calling the kettle black and he was angry as hell. Clearing his throat, Negan pushed his chair back and gave them a nod. “I’ll be right back. I have to use the little boy’s room.”

Instead of waiting for a response, Negan got up from the table and moved over toward the bathrooms. Pushing the door open to the men’s restroom, he made sure that he was alone. Stepping in front of the mirror, he braced his hands in over the counter and stared out at his reflection. Every part of him felt like it was on fire. His heart was hammering in his chest and he could tell that he was shaking from the anger he was experiencing. A red color had donned his cheeks and he felt both frustrated along with upset at the same time.

Frowning, he could see from the corner of his eye that the door was opening. Noticing that it was Y/N, he felt a lump in his throat developing. Slowly turning to face her, he felt a strong sense of remorse. He should have said something. Apologized. Done something. Anything really. But he noticed that she locked the door and it made him tip his head to the side. Before he could react, she was moving across the bathroom and in no time she had led him into her arms. Lowering down, he accepted the gesture finding comfort in the hug that she was giving him. Tension flooded from his body with his head nuzzling in against the side of her neck. With her fingers stroking at the back of his neck, he felt every ounce of anger flooding out of him. Instead he felt vulnerable in the moment, closing his eyes tightly. Cuddling her in close Negan was shocked that after everything she was comforting him.

“Take a deep breath,” she instructed sinking her fingers into his hair, speaking softly in order to get him to relax. Nuzzling her nose in against the side of his neck had him exhaling loudly. “I know what he does to you. Don’t let him get under your skin.”

“It’s hard,” Negan admitted, tipping his head back enough to stare down at her with his hazel eyes. Thankfully, he had confided in Y/N a very long time ago about all the things that his father had done. They really were extraordinarily close in the past because he told her just about everything. And the way she was able to calm him was very evident in the way she was handling everything.

“I know,” she whispered, palming in over the side of his face with her right hand while her left reached down to grab a hold of his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. Leaning into her touch, Negan’s eyes came to a tight close and he released a tremoring breath. “He knows he has a grasp on you and that’s why he does it. He pokes until he gets you angry and then he plays victim. This is what he does. Any time he does it, let’s just take a deep breath and count to ten. Focus on something else. We’re going to get through this dinner and then you don’t have to see him again until you’re forced to. Okay?”

“I don’t mean to be an asshole,” Negan explained, his breathing still broken with her cupping his face in her hands tenderly. “When I tell you I don’t want to be like my mom, I mean, I don’t want to end up in a relationship like she is with my dad. Be with someone who is no good for me. Who is no good for my children, yet stay because there are no other options. My father cheated on my mother. He abused both of us and yet I’m supposed to just smile and pretend none of that happened. Act like he was a model father when he…”

“You don’t have to pretend anything,” she assured him, sweeping her thumb across the curve of his jawline. “I don’t expect you to play friendly. I know you are only doing this for your mother and for Jordyn. Just because your mother puts up with him and allows it to be this way, it doesn’t mean you have to.”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Negan blurt out, ignoring his thoughts about his father in the moment, apologizing finally for what he felt so guilty about for in the past. Cuddling his forehead in against hers, Negan bit down on his bottom lip. Sighing loudly, his hands dragged down over the side of her neck to drop at her hips to grab a hold of them. “I can’t imagine it’s easy for you to hear that my parents recognized your affections for me when I didn’t.”

“Don’t,” she hushed him, her hands placing in over the center of his chest. Palming up over the side of Negan’s neck to brush her fingers into his hair, she felt the warmth of Negan’s breath over her lips. “I don’t want to talk about that right now. Not with your father making you…”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I was building this beautiful romance with you and I fucked it up so bad. I dropped the ball and my father is right. I fuck up everything good in my life. If I wouldn’t have thought with my fucking dick, we could have been so fucking happy,” Negan grunted under his breath, his right hand caressing up over the lengths of her back. “We probably could have been married and had a baby.”

“Or we could have driven each other nuts and broke up immediately,” she chuckled realizing that he was letting this whole thing eat away at him with what his parents had said at the table. “You can’t just assume we would have been living a fairytale.”

“But I know we would have been. You heard my parents. They said they saw the way you looked at me. How you saved me,” Negan lingered on the words that his parents said before they ended up in this bathroom together. “If I would have gotten over my biases, if I would have allowed us to get together…you wouldn’t have had to live a life of pain for four fucking years. And I could have had the life I wanted. Instead, we both fucking went through four years of shit and for what?”

“Don’t do this. We can’t go back and change things,” she interrupted his thought process, her hand palming in along the side of his neck. Sweeping her thumb over his jawline had him leaning into her touch. “Yes, my feelings are hurt. Yes, there is a lot to say and a lot to process. But what happened, happened. We can’t change it. We can’t make it better. We can only go forward. And going forward means focusing on the here and now…”

“How can you say that about me when I’m…” he paused, a breath catching in his throat when he forced himself to look away from her. “When I’m a carbon copy of him? I’m just like him. I ruin everything good in my life, he’s not wrong. I cheated on Lucille, just like he cheated on my mother. I had something perfect going with you and I fucked that up. I allowed someone to take advantage of me and while I would love to blame Maggie for it, it’s my fault. I did it. I knew she was your best friend, I knew…”

“Negan, shut up,” she cupped his face in her hands, getting his hazel eyes to stare into hers. By his expression, she could tell that he was having a meltdown. “You’re not your father. You never laid a hand on your daughter. You never hit her. You will never hit her and you’re a good father. That little girl loves you. She will never question your love. You never hit Lucille. You never hit Maggie. You’re not abusive.”

A tremoring sound escaped Negan, his breathing broken while she caressed at the sides of his face with her thumbs trying to calm him, “I know you. You’re a bit of an asshole, you’re ignorant sometimes, but you would never hurt the people you love physically or mentally. We know what your father did to you and your mother. Just because your mother decided to ignore what he did does not mean you have to. You’re not him. You’ll never be him. Yeah, you fucked up, but who hasn’t? You’re a fucking human Negan. But you know what’s good about you?”

“No,” he whispered after a moment, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat as she pressed her forehead to his again.

“You admit you were wrong. You regret the bad things you did. It may take you some time to see it, but you feel guilty. A bad person, a person like your father does not do that. They don’t have remorse. They think they were always good and you don’t,” she gave him a peptalk realizing truly how much being around his father upset Negan. “Don’t let his words eat away at you. You are the toughest son of a bitch I know…”

A nervous half laugh escaped Negan’s throat with him lowering his head. Sweeping her thumb in over his cheekbone, she sighed and pressed a tender kiss over his forehead, “Thicken that skin, ignore him and let’s get through the night. You don’t have to force yourself to see him again until you have to. He’s gonna keep trying to bring you down, but don’t let him. Let his words bounce off like they’re nothing.”

“Yes ma’am,” he slurred, his eyes locking with hers again. Stepping in closer to her, he buried his head against the side of her neck and she instinctively wrapped her arms around him to give him a hug. Stroking her fingers at the back of his neck, she sighed and closed her eyes tightly. “You were always the person to pull me out of the worst versions of myself. I never deserved you in my life.”

“Yeah, well, unfortunately you’re stuck with me,” she joked, caressing at his scalp after brushing her fingers into his hair. After she said that, he pulled back ever so slightly with the warmth of his breath lingering over her lips. Taking a moment, he closed the distance between the two of them. Nuzzling his nose in against hers had a chill running down her spine. Pressing in closer, he faintly brushed his lips against hers. It was gradual at first, taking its time to grow in strength. His fingers slid in over the side of her neck, her lips parting and allowing his tongue to tenderly caress in over hers. When they parted, Negan nipped at her bottom lip, tugging faintly at it. The soft caress of her fingertips over the center of his chest had goosebumps pressing in over his arms. “We should probably get back to the table before your mom and Jordyn start to worry.”

Agreeing, Negan accepted her hand when she held it out for him. Following her toward the door, she unlocked it and led him out. In the hallway, one of the waiters saw them together and gave them an odd expression but went back to their business. Approaching the table, Negan noticed that their drinks were on the table. His father’s head was buried in his phone and his mother was deep in conversation with Jordyn.

“There you are, I thought you ran away on us,” his father snorted, setting his phone down on the table beside him. “I thought the two of you were fighting or something with the shit that was coming out of your mouth. I probably would have dumped you myself if I was Y/N after all of that.”

“Yeah, see, that’s the thing about Y/N…” Negan started, helping her down into her seat before taking his that was beside her. “You see, the two of us…we aren’t…the two of us have never…”

“What Negan is trying to say is that we really don’t want to talk about our past. The only thing that matters to us is the now. Not the mistakes we made in the past. I don’t want the person I love to have to constantly think about what he did wrong. Because I already watched him be in a very dark place. And it took a lot of work to pull him out of it,” she interrupted Negan, drawing his attention to her as she started to respond for him. “All you need to know is that I love him. I have always loved him. He’s the most amazing man I’ve ever known. He’s an amazing father to Jordyn. And I love him as he is.”

The sound that escaped Negan’s throat was an emotional one as she reached out to grab a hold of his hand, hooking her fingers with his, “So you will have to excuse me Mr. Smith if I ask you to stop reminding Negan of his mistakes. We worked really hard to be in the place we are now and I don’t want him going back. Because I love him and I want him happy. Talking like this, well, it’s very negative. And I don’t like the overall way it makes me feel. Because you should be proud of what your son made of himself. Especially in terms of being a father.”

There was a deafening silence at the table. Negan’s fingers hooked tightly with hers, his heart hammering inside of his chest. No one had put his father in his place like that and she still managed to do that while being polite. It was respectful, but also let his father know that she didn’t like the way he was saying or approaching things.

“I love you,” Negan blurt out, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. Moving forward in his seat, he used his free hand to press it in over the side of her face. Almost instinctively his lips covered hers in a long, drawn-out fashion. It was passionate. More so sweet. Not sexual. It was an emotional kiss as he had no doubt meant what he just said. By the time they parted, Negan’s father cleared his throat uneasily.

“Alright then,” his father spoke, but Negan was still focused on Y/N. There was a sense of shock in her eyes with his confession. Nodding his head, he wanted her to know that he meant it, with his thumb sweeping in over her chin. Leaning in, he peppered a few more gentle kisses at her bottom lip before cuddling his forehead in against hers. And he didn’t care that he was showing her the affection that he was in front of his parents. Because in that moment? He had never been so sure of anything. “I’m sorry I made things uncomfortable.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” Negan’s mother gave a wink when Negan and Y/N separated, extending her hand out to place it in over both Negan’s and Y/N’s to give it a supportive squeeze. “I’m glad the two of you found each other.”

“Me too,” Jordyn spoke up, noticing that everyone seemed to be silent. “As daddy always says, I think we’d be lost without Y/N in our lives.”

“Exactly,” Negan gave his daughter a wink who returned with a big, cheesy smile that made him chuckle.

“I guess I need to learn to watch what I say sometimes. I apologize,” Negan’s father grumbled under his breath, his eyes not looking at Negan, but Negan knew that it was a big thing for his father to do in the first place. His dad was not one to apologize, ever. “I just run my mouth off sometimes.”

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Negan lied, but instead of getting emotional or headbutting with his father over things, he just accepted the one apology he may have ever heard from his father. That was likely to never happen again. Things weren’t okay. And even though he was about to tell his parents that him and Y/N weren’t an item, Y/N made sure that he didn’t have to. Especially since he was sure that they would have ripped him a new asshole if they found out that he was still with Maggie. Y/N let the image stick in his parents’ minds and he appreciated that. “It is what it is.”

“He really is the best dad,” Jordyn alerted all of them, setting her tablet on the table and pushing it forward so that she was focused on the group instead of the electronic she had been playing with for a while. “He’s fun. He’s nice. I wouldn’t want another one. He makes me happy. And I love him very much.”

“I love you too baby girl,” Negan winked, motioning Jordyn to come around toward him. Getting up from the table, Jordyn eagerly moved to her father and wrapped her arms around Negan’s shoulders. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Jordyn stammered, a laugh falling from her throat with Negan peppering kisses against the side of her face.

This wasn’t what Y/N expected when she came to dinner tonight with Negan and his family, but at least she was able to put Negan more at ease with his father. Sure, they weren’t completely honest with his parents, but it was what was best for Negan right now. And that’s all that mattered. But one thing kept repeating in her mind. Negan blurting out that he loved her. She didn’t know how to feel in that moment, but for the first time? She actually believed him.

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @pixelb4rbie @ibelongtonegan

@smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan

@redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted

@akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03

@sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf

@promiscuousbarnes @peachihellcat @dilfsandmartinis

#Negan #Negan fanfiction #Negan x reader #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #negan x you #Negan Imagine #The Walking Dead #The Walking Dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #Jeffrey Dean Morgan Character Fanfiction #Threads of Desire #Negan Smith

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missmargomuse616 · 1 day ago

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" Well now that I know who you are, I think your not so bad." Margo said with a coy grin. She wanted to admit to liking him too but thought it would be too soon. They still barely knew each other in a way that just finding out who he is could change things. Still her thoughts were conflicting but it was nice that he liked her company at least.

" yeah um, I apologize for being so snoopy- a force of habit I need to break." Her face held a sheepish look, suddenly felt like someone who got caught taking a cookie from a cookie jar. She sat back and listened as loki continued his story about thor and his shanianngans. All this time she has been talking that and this time the real version of events. She couldn't be imagine what it must be like. Just to witness how thor and loki would be in asgard. Seems so fantastical yet it still sounds like a typical sibling rivalry at once. " when all that happened with thor, what did you do during his punishment. I bet you felt all giddy when you were off the hook."

She nods her head as he talks about the books origins and it continued to intrigue her. Her eyes went from his face towards the book as she could make out the words. Wait..how oh now she understands. He must have changed the letters from that language to English. Although she could tell some words most of it was less understandable to read.

" Show off." Margo said under breath in a teasing way. Still getting use to his fancy magic. " so with this book you can be able to detect other people who happened to have any sort of magic? Or is just something you read to get enjoyment out of it?" Margo asked before finishing the rest of her tea. Her nausea was gone but she still had a touch feeling of dizziness but wasn't as bad as earlier.

" Oh right, that would make alot of sense. Im sure you would need enough supplies for all that. Then again I wouldn't surprise me if some people tried to copy the ingredients, that would be terrible." Margo replied with a low voice as she momentarily closed her eyes to take deep breaths as the dizzy feeling came and went. She briefly smiles at loki at his comment. " you saying you like me?"

The combination of him gently rubbing circles on her back to soothe her and that playful wink he gave her was almost to much to handle. Even after finding out who he was it still didnt take away that he was handsome and had that charm and playfulness about him that she liked. Maybe it was one of the reasons she didnt want to reveal to the media of who he was. But also two other reasons, one for saving her and two for wanting to help her with Cecilia.

As she took another slow sip of her tea the effects were slowly starting to make her feel less dizzy and nauseous. Tho she wanted to be careful of not moving a whole lot just yet. As the silence between lingering on, margo notice loki summoning an old looking leather book. She wonders what was in those pages that he was reading. Her being as nosy as she could be, pearing over his shoulder a bit. The words were in another language she couldn't make out on. " where did you get that from? Is it a Norse runes book?" She asked curiously

#ic #loki-child-of-frigga #Crashing Realizations thread

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kingcriccket · 8 months ago

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so have they started micing the crew on Make Some Noise or what

#dropout #make some noise #suddenly very prominent laughter from the crew in the bg of episodes #which is fine like. they do the same thing in lots of shows #it's like a laugh track but it feels 'authentic'#if you read any of the comments under their shorts they're full of people saying #how much they love hearing the crew laugh #it's a super effective little inclusion.#it adds an element of 'authenticity' right. like it Feels authentic. wow all the crew are having such a good time #even if. you know. it's a Work. if they didn't want you to hear the crew you wouldn't.#it's just an interesting change. i don't remember earlier seasons being like that #it's alive!

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revenantghost · 2 years ago

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It's honestly a thing of beauty how much plants love humanity, it reminds me a lot of Vash

It's obvious they need to find a solution, I doubt any of the plants have enjoyed being pushed to their limits. But Vash is right when he says waiting is what they need; it's this fighting and strife that Knives keeps instigating and encouraging that's killing so many of his sisters. By now, we know that Knives doesn't really care about anyone but himself and his own fears, so he wouldn't care about being told that. But it is fascinating that Knives claims himself to be an advocate for plantkind, when--even from their worldless communication and vague impressions--their sisters' goals are clearly closer aligned to Vash and the causes he fights for.

#Trigun #TrigunBookclub #Obviously actually having a plan would be #You know #GREAT #But I saw some folks say the earlier scene read as Vash excusing humans #And I never got that vibe #He knows things need to change #And the biggest help in changing things for the better #IS IF KNIVES WOULD FUCKING CHILL

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rivalsforlife · 2 years ago

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in all honesty if I were a few decades older and coming into the jackson lotr movies at the same age I am now I probably would've loathed them and been one of the people on the old tolkien forums lamenting about how it's ruined the public perception of lotr forever. instead I am young enough that by the time I could read they were already so popular that it's not such a big deal to me. my first lotr experience I genuinely can't remember if it was the books or the movies so they kind of meld in my mind and it wasn't until my most recent reread last year that I was like hey uh. they sure made a ton of changes didn't they

#ramblings #honestly they DID change the public perception of lotr forever #I'm not into enough things to be able to tell how common it is #for an adaptation to kind of overtake the original like this #I mean of course lotr is still the biggest modern western fantasy story of all time but like.#when you talk to a layperson about lotr odds are pretty good they only know the movies and haven't read the books #trivia/quotes tend to focus on the movies #I totally would have loathed it if I was born in an earlier generation #in some ways I still get too puristy than is reasonable

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em1i2a3 · 26 days ago

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Carry The Zero

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/Sentry (or The Void) x Avengers!Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Bob are sharing a room while the Avengers Compound is under renovations, which brings on a slew of new things to learn about one another.

Warnings: Semi Spoilers for Thunderbolts I guess because Bob is in here. Other than that there is nothing too extreme happening in here, it’s a bit emotional, but there is fluff in here, I would kind of describe this as a Hurt/Comfort fic than anything. There are mentions of abuse and there is also some heavy petting maybe? I mean, I’ll put that in here to cover my booty lol.

Authors Note: My second viewing of Thunderbolts truly got my mind racing for what to write in regard to Bob. Thought I would put out this lil blurb and probably add more to it later in another segment or something! Anyways! Enjoy y’all and happy premiere weekend!!! :)

Word Count: 6,784

The room wasn’t built for two people, that’s what you knew for sure. It used to be a storage space, at least that is what you assumed judging by the various filing cabinets that lined the area, the dented lockers that were near the door, and the strewn papers that nobody decided to throw away in preparation for the move-in. The only thing that was the saving grace was the fact that the place had a window that let you look out onto the city. But it still didn’t truly make up for the cramped space, even though they were able to shove two twin sized beds inside it and call it a room–which showed how effective their planning was throughout all the chaos.

The Avengers Compound was still under renovations after a security breach took out part of the living space, meaning everyone needed to be shuffled like cards in a losing deck. Room assignments were given unwillingly to everyone, and you had been paired with Bob.

It was weird to be rooming with someone who had the power of a million exploding suns as people liked to say, because even though he carried that on his sleeve sheepishly, his personality certainly didn’t match that of a person who could take down the entire world. He was shy, quiet, and careful, tip-toeing around you like you were going to snap at him at any second–which was not the case at all.

Compared to the other options you had you actually preferred to be rooming with him.

The first few days had passed in near silence. You didn’t talk much, you’d only go into your room to sleep or change, and when you would do something outside of those two things Bob would rush out pretty quickly, apologizing nervously under his breath, like he thought you were obligated to time alone.

He’d go to bed early, and you’d catch him reading beneath the awful buzzing lamp that was left in the room from before the two of you moved in. You never really asked him what he was reading because the title was always changing, like he couldn’t finish anything, or he had so much time to himself he was finishing books like they were snacks.

Then there were little things you began to notice.

He’d pace a lot, wring his hands in his lap, or pick at the skin on his fingers. He was clean, he never left shoes in the middle of the room, and always lined them up neatly under his bed frame, even yours. He would flinch at loud noises, like if there was a childish argument happening in the communal kitchen and things got too high in volume he would get a little twitchy. He was observant, and paid attention to everything around him–sometimes you would hear him talking to himself, repeating fragments of conversations from earlier in the day, like it grounded him in some way.

He had his routine and you respected it as much as possible, but tonight was entirely different.

You were coming in late from training, and a med bay visit.

The scrape on your shoulder wasn’t serious, but it was bad enough to have Bucky send you down to get checked out. It was standard–some antiseptic, a lecture from one of the nurses about being more careful and aware of your surroundings, and then you were released with a warning, and a fresh bandage. You were exhausted, sore, and annoyed with yourself for not paying attention and letting your guard down during a simulation, especially because the past few nights had been like that.

By the time you reached your floor, the halls were quiet. There wasn’t any bickering or discussions happening in the kitchen, nobody was lingering in the living room with post-mission jitters, it was just peace, for once.

You stopped at the fridge to pick yourself up a bottle of electrolytes, then paused, eyeing the row of them. You bit your inner cheek, and after a second of hesitation you grabbed another one for Bob, tucking it against you.

You figured he would be awake like he always was when you were on your training nights. You weren’t sure if he was just waiting for you or if he was just incapable of resting when you weren’t accounted for, but you never asked.

Slowly, you moved down the hall, twisting the cap off your drink with a wince when you strained just a little too much, causing the bandage to sting beneath your shirt. You gritted your teeth and let out a frustrated grunt.

“Gotta take it easy on yourself.” You heard Bucky say from behind you. You turned on your heel, seeing he was still in his training gear, also holding a bottle of electrolytes as well, “You’re gonna burn out if you don’t take breaks.” You shifted under his gaze.

”I want to be better, that’s why I’m training. If you got your ass handed to you on the field you would be doing the same.” He shook his head.

”No. I would be resting and seeing what I could do better the next time. Don’t come to training for the rest of the week, just relax and recoup, we’ll revisit your regimen when you’re better.” Before you could say anything he typed his code in for his room, and was out of your sight. You could feel your body seething as you turned back around to continue making your way down the hall. You’d seen it coming from a mile away just by the way he was watching you during the simulation but you never thought he would say anything to you like that. It just added another layer of annoyance as you reached your room.

You pushed the door open gently, careful not to let the hinges creak too loudly. The room was dark, which was unexpected, Bob’s light wasn’t even on. The only thing that was illuminating the room was the shimmer of city lights, casting silver-blue shadows across the floor.

Bob was in bed, lying on his side facing you, with his blanket tugged up to his neck. His face was soft in the low light–features relaxed, eyes closed. Sleeping, or at least you thought he was. You lingered in the doorway for a moment, squinting in the dimness of the room to see him a bit better.

His light brown hair looked a little messy, like he’d been shifting around for a while before finally settling on the position he was in now. You wondered how long he was lying like that, or if he had been waiting for your return but fell asleep in the process, and now you felt even worse than before.

You let the door close softly behind you with a gentle click, removing your shoes slowly, one at a time. Every motion felt heavier than it should have–dull with fatigue, and edged in frustration. You padded across the narrow space, keeping your steps quiet, with the extra bottle of electrolytes tucked against you, the condensation seeping through your training jacket.

You crouched slowly beside Bob’s bed, biting back a wince as your muscles tensed in protest, while you placed the bottle down on the floor, angling it so he’d see it when he woke up. It was a small, quiet offering, just something kind, a consideration in a way. You took your next moves slowly as you stood up and turned to your own bed with a tired exhale, putting the cap back on your drink and throwing it onto your bed. One hand rose to the zipper of your training jacket, pulling it down in a swift movement, teeth grinding while you pushed the fabric off your shoulders, feeling pain erupt from your ribs and shoulder now, the muscles pulsing with burning heat.

The cool air of the room hit your skin instantly, and your tank top didn’t do much to hide any of your injuries from the environment. Your back arched with the grating sting that came through you, and one hand came up to press against the bandage, making sure it was still on properly and not tugging at your skin. The ache was sharp and pulsing, and when your fingers came away damp, you already knew there was blood seeping through the gauze. You grimaced but didn’t consider making another trip to the med bay. You were too tired to care at this point, and it wasn’t something that would cause you to bleed out, so it was a morning issue to deal with.

You turned toward your dresser, collecting a pair of cotton shorts and an oversized sweater that smelled faintly of sage, throwing both articles of clothing down onto your bed with a soft plop. You rolled your shoulder gently, testing the range of motion in it with a quiet wince before reaching for the hem of your tank top, peeling the rough fabric up your skin carefully, trying to avoid the worst of the sting, though even at your slowest pace you could feel the movement pulling at the wound.

The cotton clung briefly to the tape of the gauze and the dried sweat that coated your skin before finally giving way, and coming off completely. You let out a sigh of relief, as you let the fabric fall to the floor, reaching for your sweater next. The bandage on your shoulder throbbed with every shift you made, but it was the deeper bruises scattered across your body–ghosts of impacts from the past few days–that ached beneath your skin like an echoing thunder. You glanced down at yourself, taking in the way they bloomed across your ribs, stomach, and hips, at this point you could see more bruises than your actual flesh at this point, and they were tender, dark and swollen. Maybe Bucky was right, maybe you really did need a break…

Your fingers curled loosely into the hem of your sweater, but you didn’t think to pull it on yet, you just continued to look down at the wreck that was your body, and the longer you stared, the more numb you became. It was easy to take a break but it wasn’t deserved, you couldn’t afford to make any more mistakes during missions, and you knew you weren’t going to listen to Bucky, you would keep training until your body gave out.

You closed your eyes for a moment, before lifting the sweater towards you, ready to retreat into its softness, ready to disappear and call it a night, but then you heard it.

A breath. Sharp and quick. You froze in your spot.

Then came the sound of movement, the shuffling of the blanket, the mattress creaking under the shifting weight.

Your eyes darted toward Bob’s bed instantly, seeing that his back was now turned towards you. His blanket was pulled up around his shoulders, almost covering his whole head, but there was tension in his posture now, like he was more alert, and less relaxed.

Another breath was inhaled, only it was thinner this time, and wet, followed by a muffled sniffle. Your brows furrowed, and you worked quickly to throw your sweater on without hurting yourself so you were covered up completely, before making your way to his bed, crouching down on the floor, keeping your attention fixated on him. His shoulders were rising and falling now in uneven motions, and now you were piecing together that he was actually crying.

”…Bob?” You whispered, voice soft and low, like if you made it any louder than the volume you were at now it might shatter him. You could see the shuddering in his shoulders halt at the way you said his name, and he pulled the blanket higher over his head, like he was trying to shield himself from your eyes.

”I’m sorry…” Your brows pulled together in confusion as you leaned against the bed a little more, watching the outline of his frame beneath the covers, seeing the small tremors still running through his shoulders. You bit the inside of your cheek as you reached out, your hand hovering for a breath before resting gently against the curve of his back. He was radiating heat through the blanket, but he was stiff beneath your touch, like he didn’t know what to do with the comfort you were offering.

“Bob…Why are you apologizing?” You asked softly. He took in another shaky breath, but didn’t answer. You let out a sigh, rubbing your hand up and down his back like your mother used to when you cried, trying to soothe him, to calm him as much as you could.

”I…I saw the bruises.” He said, barely a whisper. Your hand on his back froze for a moment, “I-I didn’t mean to look, I swear, I just-“ His breath hitched, realizing that you were probably throwing daggers into his back with your eyes, “I just woke up…And saw them, and I couldn’t…Couldn’t stop remembering…” He couldn’t finish his sentence, it was just too much, as another set of sobs escaped his throat. You could feel your gaze soften at the noise, almost like a piece of your heart was breaking for him, continuing your movements along his back, pressing just a little harder into the muscle.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you want some electrolytes or something?” He shook his head.

”No…P-Please just stay…” His voice was hoarse, cracking under the thickness that coated his throat from the tears. You nodded even though he couldn’t see you, staring at his shoulders as he continued to cry, curling in on himself beneath his blanket.

You continued rubbing his back, keeping a steady and consistent rhythm. The heat of him radiated through the blanket like a furnace on the verge of burning itself out. Every time your hand passed over his spine, his shoulders seemed to loosen by a fraction.

“C-Can I ask something…Kind of w-weird?” His voice broke through the quiet again, in such a timid whisper that you barely heard it.

“Sure.” You replied, hearing him sniffle again. There was a long pause, and you could feel the hesitation, like he was trying to put his words together properly so whatever he was going to say didn’t come off creepy. You continued to run your hand over his back, waiting patiently for him, watching his figure rising and falling beneath the blanket, still seeing it shaking. In your mind, you were worried, you hadn’t seen him like this before, and there was a moment where you considered calling Bucky or Yelena to come help you, but then his voice broke through the thoughts.

”…Could you…” He took another breath, “Could you…Please hold me?” The question came out strangled, like it had clawed its way out of his throat before he could second-guess it again. You blinked slowly at the request, not because you were unsure of your answer, but because the way he said it was so gentle, and embarrassed it caught you off guard in a way.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say, you thought maybe he was going to ask you for a tissue, but this was something far more vulnerable, something you never thought would come from Bob of all people, even though you knew he was sensitive. Inside you hesitated only because you didn’t want to hurt him by possibly doing the wrong thing, yet your heart ached watching him break down beneath his blanket which at this point was drowning him because of how much he had curled up beneath it.

“Of course…Just let me change out of these training pants first okay? It’ll just take a second.” There was no response to that, just movement. He shifted towards the wall so he was giving you enough space to get in, still hunched over like he felt guilty for the area that he occupied. You quickly stood up, and made quick work of shimmying out of your training pants and putting on your cotton sleep shorts, which was probably the best idea since you felt him burning through the blanket he was wrapped in. You brought your attention back to him soon after, returning to the side of the bed, your eyes roaming over the lump that resembled his body.

With a gentle hand, you tugged the edge of the blanket down just enough to uncover the top of his head, revealing his light brown hair again which looked dampened with sweat beneath the illuminating city lights that shined through the window. He didn’t say anything, or protest being exposed to you, so you took that as a good sign to continue.

You slid into the space he made for you, careful not to jostle the cocoon he made for himself too much, and eased your bad arm underneath his pillow so your scraped shoulder could rest in a neutral position where your bandage wouldn’t rip off your skin completely. You pulled up the blanket slightly, getting in behind him, scooting closer until your chest met his damp back.

His navy blue t-shirt was soaked through completely, and it wasn’t helping that he was wearing long pants to bed either. There was a fear he was gonna pass out from heat stroke or something, but he had mentioned it several times that he ran hot in general, you just didn’t see it to this extreme. He smelled like a salty rain storm, or like ozone, it was something indescribable to you in those moments, but it was what he typically radiated, it was familiar.

Slowly, you brought your arm over his torso, placing your hand onto the hard plane of his sternum, the muscles beneath his shirt twitching against the unfamiliar touch that you introduced to him.

Neither of you spoke, you just laid against each other in pure silence, listening to each other's breathing–his trembling, yours steady. He could feel your hot breaths against his neck and tried to pay attention to it, as you pushed down the blanket a bit with your elbow to shed the makeshift shield from his body. It took him a while to compose himself enough to speak again, but when he did, you were hanging off of every word.

”…When I saw the bruises…” He rasped, “All I could think about was me. When I was a kid…” The mentioning of his childhood immediately felt like a blow to your stomach. He had said something about how he was raised in passing, but it was an off handed remark that nobody really paid attention to. You figured it was something he didn’t want to talk about, but hearing him say this only made you dread what he was going to continue with.

”After he’d hit me…I’d go over to the mirror, just to see how bad it was. I’d tell myself it didn’t hurt, even if it did, I’d just lie to myself, because I knew if I cried, he’d just get angrier. He was always in the mood to beat me up so when he had a reason I think it made him feel justified in some…Messed up way.” Your chest tightened at his words, thinking about how scary it must’ve been for him, and how terrified he must’ve felt not knowing when his own father would strike. You didn’t speak right away, but you did shift, sliding your hand up higher on his chest, so you could press your palm flat over his heart. His shirt was soaked there too, yet beneath it all you could feel the frantic fluttering of his pulse, like a bird rattling against its cage.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, your breath tickling his neck again. He didn’t respond, though he didn’t recoil either.

“None of that should’ve ever happened to you,” You continued softly, brushing your thumb along the fabric against his heart, “You were a child, and you didn’t deserve that.” He let out a breath like he was trying not to begin sobbing again.

”You don’t have to say that.” You raised your head a bit, almost in disbelief that he truly thought that what happened to him was somehow okay or justified.

”I do, Bob.” You murmured, inching just a little closer, feeling your body screaming in protest as your injured shoulder moved the wrong way, causing you to hiss through your teeth. Bob noticed instantly.

”You’re hurting,” He said quietly with guilt sinking into every syllable.

”I really couldn’t give a crap about that right now Bob, trust me I’ve been through worse. You’re hurting right now too and I’m not going anywhere. Do you understand?” You replied back, your voice low, but lacking bite, not that you intended to have it sound stern or anything.

Bob shifted beneath your touch, slowly rolling onto his back like the weight of your words cracked something loose inside him. You adjusted carefully to give him space, keeping your injured shoulder angled away from the impact of his back pressing against your arm, even though the ache felt like white noise beneath the tension that was beginning to rise in the room. When he settled on his back you adjusted yourself so your chin rested against his chest, keeping your hand splayed in the same position over his heart.

His eyes didn’t find yours at first, they stared blankly at the ceiling, the soft glow of the city lights catching the shimmer of the tears that were still pooling in his eyes. Now that you could see him fully, you realized how bad things really were. His skin was blotchy, and flushed from how hot he was. His cheeks were stained with fresh tears, mixing with sweat that created this overall sheen on his skin in general, which made his hair cling to his forehead. A long, old kind of hurt settled over his face, the kind that hid quietly within the corners of a person.

He inhaled shakily, and every exhale got caught somewhere between exhaustion and restraint. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath your chin, and it made you ache in a way that put a hole deep in your chest.

”Bob…” You murmured, barely louder than the sound of the city humming outside the window, “Look at me.” At first he didn’t move, keeping his eyes fixated on the ceiling, distant and confused, still taking in those short bursts of air. Your hand left his chest, bringing them up to his jaw, coaxing his attention with the lightest touch you could give him.

“Look at me Bob,” You whispered again.

Then slowly, his eyes shifted downward until they found yours. The moment his gaze landed on you, something cracked open between you both–it was quiet, and delicate, but present and grounded in the center of it all. His expression was drawn, and his lashes were clumpy and wet with tears, framing his shimmering blue irises.

The skin surrounding his eyes were raw, almost a blood red, like someone had scratched it and left their marks streaking down his flesh. You didn’t flinch away from it though, you just looked at him with such focus, like your gaze could settle the storm that was in him. You could see his lip tremble slightly under your gaze as he tried to hold himself still, tears brimming in his eyes again, threatening to spill.

”I hate remembering…I can’t stand it. I don’t want to remember this stuff…I don’t want to think about it anymore, and I don’t want you to associate me with being weak.” You raised your eyebrows, now raising your head up to you were looking at him a little better, resting your hand against his chin now.

”I don’t, ” You stated, watching a set of tears flow out of the corners of his eyes, swallowing loudly, “I don’t associate you with weakness.” You whispered, brushing your thumb along the smooth skin of his cheek.

”I associate you with patience…With overwhelming kindness, and with strength so deep it doesn’t even have to be displayed. You could burn the sky down…You could use all the pain inside you to destroy the planet…Yet you help, you listen, and you keep going. That’s not a weak person Bob.” You wiped one of the tears away with your thumb, feeling him hesitate before leaning into your touch.

“Y/N…I’m not right in the head…You don’t understand…You’ll never understand.” You shook your head, and sighed.

”I don’t have to understand everything to care about you,” Bob’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment, like the words that you said hit him like a truck. You could feel the tension in his jaw, as he clenched it tightly, trying to contain himself a bit.

“I used to think that if I could just bury everything deep enough maybe it wouldn’t make me feel so contaminated…But then when I got the serum…And The Void came…And that awfulness manifested into something bigger…I realized that it just wouldn’t go away. I’m dangerous Y/N…I’m not someone that can be fixed. I know you care, but I can’t risk hurting you.” You shifted closer to him, moving up slowly, dragging your chest along his. His eyes followed your movements, turning his head when you settled near his shoulder, feeling your hand leave his cheek.

“You don’t scare me Bob. You’re just saying this stuff because you think it’ll make me give up on you, but I’m not that easy to sway.” You whispered, reaching down to touch one of his hands, which caused him to flinch. He was already bracing himself, preparing to be pulled into one of your memories, but it didn’t happen…It was like…Things were quiet. Just pure emptiness, and the only thing he could see was you. He stared at you as you wrapped your fingers around his hand, seeing his brows draw together.

“H-How are you…Doing this?” He asked quietly, like he was afraid he was going to disturb the peace and get thrown into your mind out of nowhere.

”I locked it out.” He shook his head at you quickly.

”That’s impossible…It always gets in…” A small smile came up on your lips, hearing the disbelief in his voice, the way he was almost entirely taken aback by what you had just said. You leaned in a little closer to him, like you were going to tell him a secret, feeling his breath fanning over your face.

“Before I was recruited, I was part of a different team. Black-ops, kind of like what the X-Men used to be, but very much under the radar. It was just…Constant missions, we were a clean up crew basically, picking up the scraps that nobody else wanted…” You smiled faintly, the corner of your mouth twitching with the memories of your team, how close you all were, how none of you took crap from anyone…Similar to what you had now, just a little better because of the tether you all had between each other.

“We ran into a lot of people with gifts. Telepaths. Empaths…Stuff like that. Some didn’t even know they were projecting until it was too late. Others weaponized it. Pulled secrets out like stitches and drove people insane without ever touching them.”

Bob was still staring at you, eyes wide and brimming with tears, his chest rising beneath you in short bursts.

“It was mandatory,” You continued. “To train in mental shielding. Neural control. The discipline to lock down your own mind so tight it’s like a vault. We trained until our thoughts didn’t even echo. You learn to breathe around psychic pressure, to mask trauma with static, to reroute memories into dead space. You learn to feel someone reaching for you…And then cut the line.”

Bob swallowed hard, hearing the way you explained everything to him step by step, while still holding his hand, running your thumb over the back of it.

“I wasn’t trained to stop the Void,” You said gently, “But I was trained to stop something similar to it. And apparently, it’s just close enough.” You watched his lashes flutter like he didn’t know whether he was going to cry again or if he was just going to sink into the mattress and disappear entirely.

“…That’s why the mental noise isn’t so loud when we're alone in a room together…” He whispered under his breath, almost like everything was clicking in his mind, as his hand began to tighten around yours now, matching the same hold you had, “…Mental shielding…Who knew that would be the thing that makes everything go quiet.” You smirked at his comment, already hearing the tension in his voice wavering, feeling his breath sticking to your cheeks, shifting in front of him so your noses bumped slightly.

“Technically it’s still quite an experimental thing, but…It works when needed I think.” You can see his lip twitch slightly, drawing into his mouth just a little bit, as if he wanted to get a taste of your breath that coated it.

“It’s…Amazing.” Was all he could muster up to say, continuing to hold onto your hand tightly, like it was anchoring him to this quiet space in his head that he had not been able to reach since taking the serum. “…All I hear, and all I feel…Is you and I had no clue until now…” The sound of his voice made your spine tingle, and goosebumps raise on your skin.

It was shocking that moments ago he was this wreck, then suddenly it was like he was on top of the world. Maybe it was because he hadn’t been touched like this in so long, or maybe it was because he finally had a break from all the noise that kept draining him, you had no clue…But what you did know is how soft his eyes had become, and how deep his breaths were now that he was a little calmer, and not being treated like a threat of some kind.

You shifted again, getting almost unbearably close to him now, the fabric of the blanket sliding down slowly, exposing your clothed bodies to the silvery-blue light just a little more. Bob didn’t move, but his eyes never left yours, he kept every ounce of attention on you, waiting for your next action, hanging on every moment. His breath hitched when your knees bumped gently against his thigh, as the warmth of your bodies radiated like twin heartbeats pressed just barely apart.

Your noses were brushing against one another, and if you tilted your chin up by just a little bit, you’d be kissing.

”I’m glad I’ve been able to make it go quiet for you…Even if it’s not permanent.” A faint smile slowly appeared on his face–crooked, and trembling, but so genuine.

“It’s more peace than I thought I’d ever get…So thank you.” He replied back, his hand squeezing yours, not in desperation, but with something closer to awe, like he still couldn’t wrap his head around the situation that was happening in front of him. His breath brushed across your face as he watched your eyes roaming over his. You couldn’t help but stare at him, to take him in now that he wasn’t crying, to admire the person who was in front of you. It was hard not to lose track of time studying his features, and how they were just…Him.

There was a long pause between the both of you, a snippet of time suspended into the universe where nothing else existed beyond the narrow bed and the hum of the city beyond the window. His chest rose slowly, puffing out warm shallow breaths against your lips, and for a second it felt like he was hesitating on something…But then, he leaned in.

It wasn’t fast, or sweeping like he was trying to catch you off guard. It was careful, like every little millimeter he closed between the both of you was an offer for you to pull back, but you didn’t take it.

When his lips met yours, it was a soft, trembling brush of mouths that lingered more in intent than execution. He kissed like he was afraid you were somehow going to disappear, but you could feel how much he truly wanted this. His lips were warm, and slightly parted, and you could taste the faintness of tears and salt, still hesitating to go the full mile.

There was a moment where he was about to pull back, and that’s when you took the opportunity to fully lean into the kiss and throw logic out the window, just for this one cut of time

Your lips moved against his, answering the softness of his approach with something more certain and grounded. The taste of him was still there, but now it was amplified tenfold from how much more pressure you were placing on the kiss now.

He was stiff at first, the tension in his jaw made it evident, like he was unsure of what he was allowed to do, what he was okay to give back, or like he was bracing himself for the possibility of you pulling back before he could even try to meet you where you were at. But then your hand let go of his, and slid up to cup the side of his face, and he let out the smallest gasp of disbelief against your mouth. Your thumb brushed gently beneath his eye as your lips molded to the shape of his mouth with a tenderness that shattered whatever restrain he’d been holding onto.

Your arm shifted beneath the pillow, bending just enough so you could lace your fingers into his damp hair, pulling him in more with such grace that it made him groan. His hand moved to your neck then–his shaky fingers pressing softly just below your ear, his thumb brushing over the curve of your jaw as he located your pulse instantly. His touch wasn’t possessive, it was filled with care, and curiosity. He wanted to feel the warmth of your skin, the steady–or not so steady–rhythm of your heartbeat beneath his fingers, he craved to be closer to you, and every moment that passed was giving him the signal that you wanted that too.

He shifted gently, slowly turning onto his side without breaking the kiss, being cautious not to put anymore unwanted pressure on your arm beneath him as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you in until your bodies were flush against one another. You could feel the dampness on your sweater from his shirt, and your bare legs brushing against the cotton of his sleep pants, which only overwhelmed you more, knowing it was going to be a challenge to stop this from going too far.

His hand splayed out on your back, twitching against the fabric that covered it as you parted your lips for him, allowing his tongue to brush against yours with the softest flicker of hesitation, tasting you like he was drinking something sacred. The breath he let out against your mouth made your skin prickle beneath your sweater, and it only encouraged your response.

You angled your mouth to his, encouraging him to continue, feeling him follow suit in an instant, matching your energy bit by bit, syncing with the way you moved against him. When your hand slid further into his hair, and curled within the damp strands, gently tugging, he let out the smallest, softest moan–it was so quiet and desperate it sounded like it had been buried within him for years. It made your head spin hearing it, and it only made you shift yourself towards him even more, feeling his thigh nudging between your legs so the both of you can completely mesh together. It was such a subtle move, but it lit up every nerve ending in your body like it was nothing.

Bob’s hand slid beneath the hem of your sweater, craving the feeling of your skin beneath his touch. His fingers traced the small of your spine, barely putting enough pressure on it, yet he still managed to send shivers through your body. He was getting bolder, but kept his awareness at the forefront, like he was cataloging every reaction you gave him, terrified that he might cross an invisible line and ruin the moment.

You felt the muscles in his arm shift as he pulled you even closer, putting more pressure between your bodies until you felt every rise and fall of his chest, and his heartbeat pulsed through you. His knee shifted again, nudging further between your thighs, pressing it gently into the thin cotton fabric that covered your most sensitive area, eliciting a gasp from you now. You could feel yourself falter control for a moment, moving your hips just a little to test the friction that you wanted, and that’s when you both realized just how far this could go–and how close you already were to getting there.

His hand tensed against your back, and the kiss slowed down, until he found the correct moment to pull back, just a few inches. His lips were still parted, only now they were swollen and wet with saliva. He was out of breath, and you mirrored the same sentiment, as the both of you tried to even your racing hearts before they exploded. His pupils were dilated, and in the dimmed lighting you could only see a faint glisten of blue that rimmed the darkness that took over, the burn was there, the want was there, but there was the looming fear that you both were going from zero to one hundred really quickly, and that’s when regrets could be made, and neither of you wanted that.

”…We can’t do this…” He whispered, his voice cracking from being the first one to speak. You nodded faintly, your fingers still toying with his hair, reluctant to let go completely, but understanding him.

”I know,” You murmured, “Not like this…Not tonight.” You clarified. He closed his eyes, a soft exhale brushing your lips as his fingers twitched against your pulse point on your neck again.

”It’s not that I don’t want to,” He added quietly, “God I do…You have no idea.”

“I know,” You said again, running your thumb along his cheek, soothing the skin there, “Me too…I want to as well…But we’re not ready. Especially after being in the headspace that you were in a few minutes ago.” He nodded slowly.

”I don’t want it to be something that will be confused for a moment of distraction.” You stared at him, hearing how serious he was about it, “And I don’t want to ruin anything.” He added softly, opening his eyes again to look at you.

”You’re not ruining anything, we’re just pressing pause…And that’s completely fine, and it’s the best decision to make for right now.” He gave a small, nervous smile at that and leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours, “We’ll talk more about it later…But for now how about we just relax hmm?” He let out a shaky breath, the heat from it hitting your lips and invading your mouth for just a split second.

”Yeah…I’d like that.” You smiled faintly, as your bodies untangled just a bit from one another, removing the both of you from the intimate position you had found yourself in moments before. His knee shifted out from between your legs, and rested against them instead, letting the tension unravel and disappear slowly.

He wrapped both arms around you now, carefully noting your injury, and you folded yourself into his chest, letting your hand rest on his ribs as he pulled the blanket up to shield the both of you.

You both stayed there, nose to nose, breath to breath, hearts beating unevenly against one another until sleep came over you like a harsh wave.

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literallymechanical · 25 days ago

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GOd okay I went to my neighbor’s housewarming, and don’t get me wrong, I love parties (if everybody doesn’t give me all of their attention all the time and tell me that i’m smart and funny and pretty I’ll DIE), but I forget how stressful it is to introduce yourself to new people when you work in a politically charged field. The whole evening was this:

Party Guest: So, have you lived in the area long?

[Okay, let’s think. White male, thirties, tall, muscle tee, sandals, wedding ring, but here without a partner. I just overheard him complaining about tariffs, so he’s either left-leaning or a disillusioned republican. Good sign, definitely not MAGA. Ah, that’s right, he brought his daughters – ages 5 and 7, well-behaved in a crowd – and they’re wearing princess dresses… doting father with an active role in raising his kids, lets them choose their own outfits… my gut is telling me heterosexual male feminist. That could be good or bad – statistically speaking, he believes in climate change… but that means 50/50 odds of anti-nuclear sentiment. I need more information, but I must answer carefully. We’re rapidly approaching the Question.]

Me: Not long! I just moved down from Boston a few months ago –

[Ball is in his court. Boston has been in the news lately for being an immigrant sanctuary city, but that’s mostly local news – I’ll get information based on body language. Oh, I may have made a tactical error. This is an opportunity for sports rivalry to come up, and I am ill-educated on the subject. Quick, I need a counter maneuver.]

Me: – but I actually grew up in the area.

[Good save, and a decent delaying action. If he takes the bait, I can redirect the conversation to local childhood reminiscence. He’s had two margaritas, and they’re starting to affect him – talking a bit too loud, and his expansive hand gestures bespeak more than typical New Jerseyan gregariousness. That could be to my advantage… unless it makes him too bold].

Party Guest: Coming back home for family, or is it a work thing?

[Shit, okay, he asked about work. This could be the endgame… but he’s foolishly thrown me a lifeline. I can’t lie, the hosts already know the real answer, but I can dissemble by playing to his fatherly conversational weak spots.]

Me: I moved for work, but my family does live nearby, so that’s a nice perk as well. I get to see my nephews a lot more often! The eldest just turned five.

[That should do it. My nephews are about the same age as his kids, which will build a rapport and redirect the conversation back to himself. It should be easy to get him talking about his daughters. Unless… oh no. He’s two drinks in on a Sunday night and working on a third in front of his children, while his wife stays home. She wakes up earlier than him, potentially much earlier. He’s been talking about the economy a lot. Damn, recently laid off? He’s going to focus on work.]

Party Guest: That’s awesome. What sort of job?

[The brilliant bastard. He’s good, he’s very good. Truly a worthy opponent. Pierced right through every single gambit and went straight to the Question. Have I met my match? Will I finally be humbled? It’s do or die.]

Me: I’m an engineer at an energy company.

[Alea iacta est.]

Party Guest: Energy?

[Last chance. He's intelligent and fiendishly clever, but hope against hope that he’s more well-read in Aristotle than Rutherford. This should dead-end him]

Me: Nuclear, kind of. Fusion, not fission.

Party Guest: Oh, that sounds cool.

Me: Mhm. So, how do you know Bill and Stephanie?

Party Guest: I was in film school with Bill. Have you seen his documentary?

[Ha. Another victory, all the sweeter for having been hard-fought. Time for a celebratory cornichon, maybe some crackers]

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sceletaflores · 8 months ago

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slippin' and slidin' all over you!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, sweating, mutual masturbation, sweat licking (i don't know???), not-so-dry humping, p in v, JUST THE TIP RAHHH, creampie, fingering (fem!recieving), oral sex (fem!receiving), come swapping, come eating, literally over four thousand words of pure nasty smut, this is gross lowkey, idk i'm h*rny, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: very much not the winner or even an option of the poll i posted last week but...shhh don't hate me. it’s october and over 80 every single day, what the fuck is that? only good thing that came from this heat is thoughts of nasty sweaty sex with logan. once again shoutout to my wonderful husband @ebodebo for reading this over for me (i successfully changed her vendetta against sucking up some man sweat...which was the real point of this fic tbh) go give her fics some love if you're a slut for ghost! kisses!

logan forgot to fix the ac...

It's too hot out to be alive. 36°C and sunny.

One of the hottest days in recent memory for Alberta, and you're really feeling it.

"Remind me," you say slowly, the first words spoken in almost ten minutes. "How many times did I ask you to fix the air conditioner?"

"Don't start," Logan says from his spot across the room. His head is tipped back to rest on the couch cushion, eyes slipped shut.

You ignore him, lazily rolling your head to the side to look at him through squinted eyes, your brows furrowed in thought. "Was it ten? Or maybe thirteen?"

Logan huffs a breath, slow and heavy, but he doesn't move--doesn't even open his eyes. “I said don’t start,” he mutters again, though there’s the faintest edge of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Don't worry baby," you say, voice pitched lower in a terrible impersonation of Logan. "I'll get to it, promise. Won’t get too hot for another couple months."

Logan finally cracks an eye open, just enough to give you a sideways glance, his mouth twitching with amusement. "You done?"

You hum noncommittally, the sound lingering in the air like the lazy summer breeze doing nothing to cool the temperature outside. Your gaze slips down the side of his face to trace the jut of his jaw, then lower to the sweaty column of his neck.

Both you and Logan lost most of your clothes earlier in the day, too hot to bother wearing anything but underwear. You trudged around the house like zombies until you finally gave up on trying to be productive, you both ended up in the living room.

All the windows are cracked open, trying in vain to let in any cool air. You claimed the armchair closest to the fan, refusing to be anywhere near Logan and the massive heat wave he constantly gives off.

Logan’s on the couch, stripped down to the thinnest pair of sleep shorts you’ve ever seen. His chest is bare, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that mats the dark hair dusted along his pecs to his skin.

You can’t help the way your eyes follow the drops of moisture that slide slowly down the contours of his abs. A low heat starting to swirl through your gut when it disappears into his happy trail.

It's funny. When you basically peeled yourself off your mattress this morning, sex was the absolute last thing on your mind.

Now, as your eyes glide over the strong expanse of Logan's body on full display, you're having second thoughts.

Maybe it just comes with the heat. That sort of slow, syrupy feeling that slides along your overheated skin to pulse pleasantly between your thighs.

A bead of sweat slides down the length of your spine slowly, falling until it soaks into the damp waistband of your panties. You try to not notice how Logan is halfway across the room, not touching you.

You fail.

“It’s just a shame, though,” you start, fingers idly toying with the hem of your tank top. “If it was cooler, I could come over there.”

You slide a leg up, letting it rest against the wooden rest, newly exposed skin gleaming under the sunlight filtering in.

The move isn't lost on Logan. You see his jaw clench slightly, the tiniest shift in his posture.

"Something you wanted?" Logan asks, his voice going low and teasing. "Looks like you've been gettin' yourself all worked up over there."

“Just thinking,” you reply, shifting slightly on the sticky leather of the chair.

Logan’s fingers twitch at his sides, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. His eyes slide the rest of the way open, his gaze heavy and lingering as it ventures down to where your thin shirt sticks to your skin, outlining every curve.

“Oh yeah?” he prompts, his voice a little rougher now. “Thinkin’ about what, baby?”

“You,” you say easily, fingers slipping down to your thigh. You bring your other leg up, perching it against the opposite armrest. Your thighs spread wide enough that you know Logan has a full view of the wet spot growing along the gusset of your panties.

The hitch in Logan’s breath has you stifling a smug smile, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch the way his chest starts rising faster.

"That's real sweet, sugar," he drawls, an unimpressed look on his face as he drags his eyes back up to your own. "But if you're tryin' to get me over there, you're gonna have to do better than that." His voice slides through the air heavy and warm like molasses.

You bite back a grin, enjoying the slow game that's unfolding between the two of you.

"Maybe I don’t want you to come over here," you let your fingers trail a little lower, just to the edge of your panties, teasing. “Maybe I like you right where you are.”

Logan’s brow raises, his thighs tensing before he spreads them just a touch wider. The fabric of his boxers goes taut over the strong muscle, riding up to expose even more hairy skin to your greedy eyes.

"You're playin' with fire, kid," he warns.

The tent in his shorts is obvious now, the hard length of his cock pressing against the fabric where it lays across his thigh. Your other hand twitches by your side at just the sight, your pussy throbbing with the sudden need to be filled.

"Am I?" you murmur, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, just enough to make sure he knows exactly where this is headed. ”It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it, you’re too busy pouting."

With a deliberate slowness, you slide your fingers lower, brushing against your clit with just enough pressure to let out a soft gasp at the contact. You arch your back slightly, relishing in the way the air feels against your skin, hot and sticky.

You want him to see how badly you need him—how his heat is the only thing that could truly satisfy the insatiable ache building between your legs.

Logan's nostrils flare, jaw tightening and eyes darkening at the sight of you teasing yourself. His restraint is slipping, and you can practically feel the tension building in the room, thick and stifling like the oppressive summer heat.

But he still doesn’t move, doesn’t rush over like you expect him to. Instead, he shifts his hips slightly, spreading his legs wider and letting his hand fall on his thigh.

You can’t help the way your breath quickens at the sight, the way his fingers drift dangerously close to his own growing bulge, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him.

You tilt your head to the side, gazing at him through your lashes. “You're really just gonna leave me hanging?” you goad, fingers circling lazily around your sensitive clit. “Come on stud, whip it out.”

Logan chuckles low, a sound that sends shivers through you. "Is that what you want, baby?" he asks, voice thick and taunting, a smirk curling on his lips. “You want me to whip it out for you?”

“Yeah,” you murmur breathlessly, biting your lip as you maintain eye contact, your breath starting to come in short bursts. “I need to see you, Logan. Need to see how hard you are for me.”

“Need to, huh,” he muses slowly, fingers finally grazing over the hard length of his cock. “What’s in it for me?”

“How about this?” You slip your hand out from your ruined panties, fingers glistening with your own wetness as you hook your thumbs on either side and drag them down your legs.

You let the soaked cotton fall to the floor, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Logan’s pupils dilate, an inky black completely swallowing the warm hazel. He licks his lips slowly, the tip of his tongue running along his teeth like he wants to sink them into you. His cock twitches visibly beneath his shorts, the growing tension in the air between you thick enough to choke on.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, his voice low and gravelly, more of a growl than a word.

You smile, shifting in the chair to give him an even better view, your legs spreading wider. "Yeah?" you purr, running your fingers over your slick inner thigh, feeling the heat radiating from your own skin. “You like what you see?”

Logan swallows hard, his hand finally slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, palming his cock as he watches you. “You know I do,” he says, voice rougher than before.

You let your hand trail back down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as you hold his gaze. “Then show me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea now. "I wanna see you."

Logan lets out a low, rumbling groan, his fingers making quick work of shoving his shorts down enough to free his cock. It springs free to slap lewdly against his stomach and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips at the sight.

He strokes himself slowly to start, his eyes locked on you, watching your every reaction, feeding off the way your chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths.

"Like this?" he asks, his tone taunting as he strokes himself from base to tip, his thumb swiping over the head with a low hiss. “That what you wanted?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, straining and in his hand. The sight of his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock sends a hot, electric pulse through your body, your hand between your legs moving in time with his slow strokes.

"Yeah," you whisper, voice trembling with need. "Just like that."

You slip your hand lower, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a low moan. Logan groans like he’s the one being touched, his hand speeds up, eyes glued to where your fingers disappear in your slick heat.

His cock leaks pre-come over his knuckles each time his fist passes over the dripping head, the wet sound of it mixing with the low hum of the fan and your own breathy sighs.

"You look so fuckin' good like this honey," Logan groans, his voice rough, strained. "All spread out, playing with that pretty pussy for me."

You whimper at his words, your body aching for more than just your own touch. You need him, need the feel of his rough hands on your skin, his mouth, his cock—anything.

Your fingers move faster, slipping deeper inside with each pump, but it’s still not enough. The stretch is nothing compared to taking Logan, to the feeling of him carving a place for his thick cock inside your pussy, hitting that spot inside you that your fingers can’t quite reach.

Your hips buck up towards your hand, your back arching off the chair as your free hand clutches the armrest tightly.

Logan’s pace quickens, his fist pumping his cock with a new urgency, heavy balls bouncing with every rough tug.

“God, look at you, such a needy fuckin’ thing” he growls, chest heaving as his gaze flicks between your flushed face and the glistening mess you’re making of yourself like he can’t decide where to look. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

"Please," you whine, desperation creeping into your voice. Too keyed up to draw this out any longer. “I need you inside me, Logan. I can’t take it anymore.”

Logan groans, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. His hand falters slightly on his cock, squeezing hard around the base as your words push him dangerously close to the edge. His jaw clenches, eyes raking over you, and with a growl, he stands.

The last threads of his restraint snapping.

He crosses the room in two long strides, towering over you where you sit. His cock swollen and hard, sways between his legs with every step, glistening with pre-come that drips to the floor. His eyes, hooded and burning, drink you in as he reaches down, yanking your hand away from your slick heat.

“Thought you said it was too hot to move,” you tease breathlessly, unable to quit egging him on even when your legs start to tremble with need, spreading wider to welcome him.

Logan ignores you, tugging your hand to his lips. Your breath catches in your chest, a weak moan escaping you as he takes your soaked fingers in his mouth. His tongue swirling along your skin to taste you, his eyes never leaving yours as he does.

“Changed my mind,” he growls, strong hands rough and possessive as they drop your wrist and haul you out of the chair so he can spin around, collapsing into it with you in his lap. The wood gives a warning creak beneath you but neither of you care.

Not when his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding as he slides his tongue past the seam of your lips. The heat radiating off his body is suffocating, but you welcome it—craving the weight of him on you.

You melt against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against yours, every inch of him alive and pulsating with need. Logan’s hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to send a rush coursing through you.

It’s intoxicating, the way he devours you, his hands exploring every inch of your back, grasping and pulling you impossibly closer.

The hard jut of his cock presses against your thigh, a thick plane of heat that makes your pussy throb with need. You shift your hips, grinding down on him in messy circles.

“You feel that?” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “That’s all for you, darlin’.”

“Need you,” you whimper, grinding down against him faster, desperate for the friction that sends pleasure rippling through you. “Please, Logan, I need you inside me now.”

“Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending sparks all up your spine.

He dips his head, capturing your lips again, while his hands roam hungrily down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs to urge your legs open wider. “You wanna tease me, you’re gonna have to get off just like this.”

Logan angles his hips so that his cock slips between your drenched folds the next time you roll your own down.

The hot, slick glide sends electric shocks of pleasure racing through you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. You gasp against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as you push down, desperate for more.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growls, his voice dripping with lust as he watches your movements with hungry eyes. “Just for me, huh? She’s droolin’ just for me.”

You nod breathlessly, chasing the friction, craving the feel of him so close. You lift your hips and rock back down again, the blunt head of his cock brushing against your swollen clit, and you feel your body pulse in response.

“More,” you plead, leaning in to nibble at his lower lip. “I need it.”

Logan pulls away, shaking his head with a wicked grin. “Come on, tough shot,” he says, giving your ass a quick smack and kneading the tender flesh in his hand roughly. “You’re gonna come like this, you can do it baby.”

You whine, dropping your chin to your chest. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into the strong muscle. Your chest slips slickly against his, the front of your tank almost entirely soaked with sweat.

Yours or his, it doesn't matter. The white cotton turned transparent enough that your breasts are on full display, nipples hard and visible.

You watch a single bead of sweat make its way down the length of his throat. It trickles down and down and down until it dips between the pronounced muscles of his chest.

You duck your head, dragging your tongue up the valley of his pecs. A deep moan bursts from your lips, pussy drooling more slick over Logan’s cock at the coarse feel of his thick hair on your tongue, at the heady taste of his sweat filling your senses.

Logan groans, hands tightening their hold on your waist. The dull ache his strength leaves behind is enough to let you know that two hand shaped bruises will be blooming over your skin by tomorrow morning.

“Come on, girly,” he encourages, nipping at the sweaty column of your throat, the sharp points of his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin deliciously. “Fuck me, give it to me good.”

Your hips speed up, his hard cock sliding through the slick folds of your cunt faster. The tip bumps against your clit deliciously with every move, smearing pre-come along the way to add even more to the mess between your legs.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he groans, breath puffing warm and hot agasint the slick skin of your lips. “Pump you so full of my come you’ll be leakin’ for a goddamn week.”

He shifts underneath you, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance just enough for it to push inside on the next grind of your hips.

The barely there fullness has you coming with a sharp cry, nails roughly dragging down Logan’s back hard enough to leave red welts that heal as you go.

The pain mixing with the pleasure of finally getting to feel the warm, wet suction of your pussy has Logan coming with a rough shout of your name. He throws his head back, hands tightening their grip on your hips enough to have your bones grinding together as he pumps you full of his come.

“Logan…” you mewl, your pussy fluttering over the tip of his cock, greedy little clenches like you're trying to suck him the rest of the way in. Drunk on the way his release paints your insides, how you can feel each thick spray coating your walls to claim you in the rawest way.

Logan pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and smoldering as he watches you squirm in his lap.

"You’re not tapping out on me already, are you?" he teases, his voice rough and gravelly. "I thought you were tougher than that."

A weak, breathy laugh escapes you, but it’s cut short when he applies just a little more pressure, making your thighs quiver. "Not tapping out," you manage between shallow breaths, your head falling back against the chair. "But you’re—fuck—you’re insatiable."

Logan smirks, leaning in to nip at the sensitive skin of your throat, his teeth scraping just enough to send shivers coursing through you.

"When it comes to you, baby?" he murmurs against your skin, the heat of his breath fanning over your pulse point. "Fuckin’ always."

A lazily smile takes over your lips as you tighten your core and push, the rest of Logan’s come leaking out over his fingers. Logan groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder to try and ground himself.

His cock throbs where it sways heavily between his thighs, still hard and ready to go even after he just came. His hand slips down your body, thick fingers running through the creamy mess of come and slick to messily push it back inside you.

“Fuckin’ shit, honey,” he groans lowly, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Before you can respond, he stands again, gently placing your trembling form back into the chair and dropping to his knees in front of you.

Your breath hitches, legs widening despite the way your pussy shakes with overstimulation, like you can’t help but spread your legs for Logan anytime he wants.

Logan smirks up at you from between your legs, his lips already ghosting over the inside of your thigh. "Look at you," he growls, voice low and filled with lust. "Still so needy."

The slick heat of his tongue runs along your folds, lapping at the mess he just made of you. You let out a sharp gasp, thighs trembling as your fingers weave into his hair, tugging him closer.

The sensation is overwhelming—the rough, demanding pace of his tongue as it swirls around your clit, teasing you, while his hands grip your thighs with bruising force. Keeping you exactly where he wants you, keeping you spread open for his tongue.

Your body arches off the chair with a loud cry, every nerve alight with raw pleasure as he feasts on you, his growls vibrating against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck! Logan," you moan breathlessly, head falling back as you try to keep up with the sensations he's pulling from you.

The heat that was pooling low in your belly reignites, stoked by the way his tongue flicks faster against your clit, each stroke sending you higher.

Logan doesn’t let up, his tongue delving deeper, drinking in every moan, every shaky gasp as he drives you closer to the edge. He moans into your pussy, his own arousal clear in the way his hips buck into the air, seeking any kind of friction.

You tug on his hair harder, desperate for more, for release. "Logan, please," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with need.

"Atta’ girl," he rasps, his voice thick with desire as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "So fuckin’ pretty like this. You gonna give me another one, baby? Gonna come for me again?"

Every lick, every rough squeeze to your thighs, every teasing stroke sends you spiraling closer to that edge you’re dying to reach again. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your soaked skin and driving you wild.

“Logan, I—” You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer, closer, closer. “I’m so close—”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, nose and jaw glistening in your juices.

"Give it to me," he growls, the rough rasp of his voice sending a shiver through your overheated body. "I wanna feel you come on my tongue."

It’s all the encouragement you need. With a strangled cry, your body tenses, thighs quaking as the orgasm crashes over you.

Logan keeps his mouth on you, tongue working you through every pulse, drawing it out until you’re trembling and gasping, your body boneless in the chair.

When you finally come down, panting and spent, Logan pulls away. With one last kiss pressed over your clit, he makes his way up your body, not dropping eye contact as he settles over you.

His hand comes up to your face, thumbs meanly hooking into either side of your cheeks to gently force your mouth open. You part your lips willingly, the heat still radiating between you, a mix of lingering pleasure.

Logan leans in, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex surrounds you as he spits what he collected from between your legs back into your own mouth.

Your cheeks burn with shame, a broken moan ringing through the space between you. Your glassy eyes stare into Logan’s, his own gaze so intense and all consuming you fight the urge to squirm.

"Swallow," he commands, unwavering.

You hesitate for just a moment, caught off guard by the pure audacity, but the way his eyes darken with hunger makes your resolve crumble. With a breathless whimper, you obey, tasting the remnants of your own pleasure mingling with his, the act both humiliating and intensely arousing.

Logan watches you closely, his gaze never straying as you swallow, a dirty smirk creeping onto his lips. “That's my girl,” he praises, his tone thick with satisfaction.

As the taste lingers on your tongue, you can feel the weight of Logan’s stare like a physical touch.

“Think you can handle another round?” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “I don’t plan on letting you off that easy, kid. Not with all that mouthing off earlier.”

You catch your breath, shaking your head in exasperation. “You’re relentless,” you whisper, a hint of laughter in your voice, though your body betrays you, already craving more.

“Only for you, baby” he replies, brushing the strands of hair plastered to your sweaty forehead behind your ear. “Only for you.”

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini nat's note: i started my period today chickens...that explains it...

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retiredteabag · 8 months ago

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winter weight (nanami ver)

Synopsis: nanami has gained some weight this winter, it seems you don't mind.

based on this fanfic I wrote for Toji which was based on this fanart! thank you @lil-sis for requesting more nanami :,)

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

You had known Nanami Kento for years before you were romantically involved. He had never made an inappropriate comment, always treated you with the utmost respect, and was all-around, the truest form of a gentleman.

For a time, you locked away your feelings for the kind man, sure he could never see you in that way, but little did you know, the man in question hid from your gaze, not because he did not want to see you, but in fear that you would see him. See him for what he was: a man, obsessed.

You had been with Ken for nine months now and he was everything you could want and more. He was communicative, thoughtful, and romantic. He looked at you in a way nobody had before. Likewise, for you, those nine months passed with comfortable ease.

This was your first winter together, and with the changing of the seasons you learned day by day that the man you knew was your life partner. The both of you were homebodies in a sense, however, with the chilly air and light snowfall this week, you were even more keen on a night in together.

You raced around the house, lighting candles, simmering mulling spices on the stove, and laying out blankets for the two of you. The house felt even cozier knowing that Ken was coming to join you.

He had spent the afternoon with his parents and was coming over after having dinner, he told you to eat without him and you had just finished cleaning your plate when you received a text,

"I am on my way now, sweetheart, is there anything you would like from the store?"

Ken was like this, domestic in the way that made you want to bounce around the room. You thought for a moment before deciding you would probably need more eggs. Earlier this week the two of you had planned a movie night, the next morning you were both hoping to bake cookies together while playing board games or taking turns reading to one another.

You informed him of the need for eggs and he told you he would be just a few more minutes. During that time you scrolled through the choices of movies, picking a few for the two of you to choose from.

Despite being together longer than the gestational period for a baby human, you still received butterflies in your stomach at the thought of his arrival. Knowing he was nearly home, you bounded to the kitchen and faced the door, the room smelled delicious, the only thing missing was his presence, and perhaps another layer of clothing.

Even so, you could hear his footsteps approach and knew that the two of you would share a blanket and body heat in no time.

When the man finally opened the door he was smiling shyly, a red dusting across his face from the cold. He wore a long winter coat, and in his arms were a bouquet of flowers and a wrapped gift.

You rushed to greet him, taking the day bag from his arm,

"Oh! Ken, they're beautiful!" You stood on tiptoe as he bent his knee and you kissed his cold cheek. "Goodness, you're freezing! Come in please!"

"Hello, my love." He smiled more broadly now, wrapping his free arm around you, "This if from my parents, but they told me not to let you open it until the holidays."

A warmth ran through you, the Nanami's were all too kind. Kento set the flowers on the counter and stepped toward the coat rack by the door to retire his shoes and jacket.

In the motion it took for him to pull the sleeves off his broad shoulders, you took him in. Leaning on the kitchen counter you allowed yourself to stare at him. His dress shirt was tight on his arms, and his suit pants clung to his thighs. You took a step toward him again.

"I almost don't want you to change, you look so handsome in your work clothes."

"Well, I've certainly put on some weight. These pants hardly fit now." he looks increasingly uncomfortable, not to be in your presence but to show that he was dressed in such a tailored fashion.

"Ken, my dear, you look incredible." You contain the desire to squeeze his thigh by walking to the bedroom and bringing out a pair of sweats and a cotton shirt.

"Although you are a delight to see this way, I'll let you get comfortable." You smile and pinch his bicep.

"Thank you, dear, I don't believe I've ever been so heavy. It's all the good restaurants you introduce me to, perhaps I should get back into the gym." He had grabbed the soft clothes you picked for him and walked into the bedroom to change.

"You're the one bringing me to all those good restaurants so you can't just blame me." You smile from outside the door.

"I'm just grateful you're with me" He laughs, pulling the shirt over his head.

"Ugh!" You exclaim, "Of course, Ken, don't say something so ridiculous." He laughs but you are still caught on what he said earlier. "And don't start going to the gym, you look great, very chewable."

He pops out from behind the door and looks down at you, amused. "I'm not sure how to feel about that descriptor, but if you still like me with extra weight, then I suppose I can remain comfortable."

"Still like you?" You gasp offended, "Ken, I grow more attracted to you every day, I don't care how tight your clothes are, in fact, it's a good look."

He gives you a mischievous face, "Go sit on the couch, pick a movie, stop trying to seduce me."

You laugh, incredulous, "I'm not trying anything, I'm only speaking the truth." You shrug, bounding to the couch and crawling beneath the blanket. Ken brings two mugs of cider before joining you.

That night you lay on his chest, watching a cheesy romance, the both of you laughing at the silly main character. You tilt your head up, to watch his face, your eyes catching the beginning of a few grey hairs dispersed in his blonde hair. You gently run your hand through his undercut.

In that moment, in his arms, as comfortable as you've ever been, you are sure, he is the man you will grow old with.

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fushitoru · 10 months ago

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the season of thorned roses ⸺ a bridgerton!au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

genre/warnings ⸺ enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, suggestive, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly, all they do is bicker 💀, some historical inaccuracies, mentions of sex work

notes from the author: im aashi, and this is my first series on this app :p for anyone who would like to know, this does end with a happy ending. ty for reading!

masterlist | drabble | fanart

chapter index

01 ⸺ the debutante

you begin to get ready for your presentation for your debut this season, and satoru steels himself to find a wife. you don't get the reception you'd wanted from some, and satoru will soon curse himself for letting his tongue loose (6.3k)

02 ⸺ the aftermath

after an eventful first ball after your debut, you continue the season with thinly veiled vexation towards gojo. but fate is not on your side; you and gojo keep encountering each other, matching fire with fire (7.8k)

03 ⸺ the manor

you and gojo have just uncovered your mothers' matchmaking scheme: a plan that sends you both to his extravagant countryside manor in kent, arriving a week earlier than the rest of the ton. the question remains—can you endure gojo's insufferable nature during this secluded stay? (8.3k)

04 ⸺ the game

satoru has some revelations about you. both you and satoru share some quite...happening days at the manor, including an eventful game of pall mall. (4.9k)

05 ⸺ the fall

gojo comes up with a strange yet tempting arrangement, but the accident that follows it may cause epiphanies for the both of you. (11.8k)

06 ⸺ the house party

you are bedridden, recovering from your wound, when gojo delivers season-changing news. the house party that follows buzzes with tension, and an unexpected arrival that sends ripples through the ton. (7.4k)

07 ⸺ the rebound

after the arrival of your dearest brother, you pursue a new angle to the season, one to prove that you, the diamond, will not be scorned. new opportunities with duke nanami arise and with it jealousy and bitterness fester in the ballroom. (6.8k)

08 ⸺ the lake

both you and gojo discover contradictory feelings lodged deep in your heart, and a confrontation (with an unexpected ally) leads to a rather....wet conclusion. (4.6k)

09 ⸺ the embers

sukuna takes you on an excurion into town at night, where you both meet a stranger that gives you illustrative insight into gojo. on the other hand, satoru has to suffer his best friend's most terrible plan as of date (10k)

10 ⸺ the art gallery

duke nanami suprises you with an inquiry, and the panic caused by it leads to an encounter with a very unexpected person (4.7k)

11 ⸺ the geto manor (soon!)

drabbles/headcanons

01 ⸺ gojo unable to wake up on time after a wild night (suggestive)

02 ⸺ avoiding gojo after getting your period (suggestive)

03 ⸺ gojo walking in on geto at a brothel (nsfw, not canon)

03 ⸺ gojo when you're pregnant

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bumpkinspice0 · 5 months ago

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Office Hours

Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Mutant!FemReader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: A few months into working back at the mansion and Logan still can't keep his hands off you. A/N: This is vaguely tied to my other Logan fic "No One Knows…" but not at all required reading. All you need to really know is reader is a returning X-Man that can control Earth/ rocks and is codenamed Dozer (Short for Bulldozer) Warnings: S M U T, medium plot??? but mostly just porn, established relationship, under desk blowjobs, office sex, light dom/ sub, a single spank possessive Logan (Someone needs to put me down)

AO3 if you prefer to read there

Logan Masterlist

_______

The morning light pours in through the windows of your bedroom. Logan holds you close against him in bed while you, less than enthusiastically, try to squirm out of his grasp.

A few months back into your old life at X-mansion and you can confidently say it was the best decision you’d ever made in a long, long time. All the kids returned to a brand new environmental science teacher and a newly reconstructed mansion that somehow looked almost exactly the same— give or take a few changes to the gardens.

You’d missed this, you missed being part of the X team, whether it was as an X-Man or just a teacher. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were making a real tangible difference in people's lives.

Yes, you desperately wanted to return to your roots and start over— but he was also a nice perk to all the chaos.

Your relationship with Logan was just as new as your employment in Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. He reeled you in like a fish on a hook. Whatever the two of you had, it was nice. You think it had been a long time since he had something like this too. Someone to care for. Someone to please.

Neither of you could keep your hands off each other.

It was too early for ‘I love you’s’ or to declare something like moving in together, but he already spent most nights in your room as it was. If he didn’t spend the night he’d find you in the early morning just to hear you moan his name. That boy was determined never to let you sleep— not that you’re really complaining.

You’d never had a lover like Logan. Someone so… starved. He craved your touch, rambled on about your scent, and held you on the edge for what felt like hours. It was all new and some parts of it, admittedly, a little weird, but fuck was it exciting.

You’d started a new life for yourself, more or less. Started over, more accurately. And he was there to soften all the blows. You hope you did the same for him.

You can’t believe you thought he ever had ulterior motives about you when you came back. Once you found out you both had more similar pasts than you’d realized, you were sure the only thing he'd want was information from you. How glad you were to be wrong.

Victims of the same cruelty but you were both different. You still had your memories. Your identity. He didn't.

You vowed to help find out who he was, and that seemed to mean more to him than anything— but it was a slow process. Old information and long abandoned facilities. Still, you had each other through all of this and that helped the pain, just a little. Facing your demons together.

Right now, however, Logan was your only tangible demon. He still had you trapped in bed and late for class.

“Just a quickie,” he purrs, nibbling at your ear.

“I have a class to teach in 20 minutes. You should have gotten here earlier,” You muster up any strength you have against him, “And it’s never quick with you.”

“Or you just don’t want it to be quick,” His mouth finds your bare shoulder, already marked with week's worth of love bites from him. You can’t deny the trill of excitement it sends through you.

This fucking man.

You want to. Lord in heaven, you really, really want to. Sometimes this being a responsible mentor thing got in the way.

“Logan…” You push lightly against his chest. It’s not much of a protest, really. None of your weak-willed squirming was.

“Okay… okay,” His grip around your waist finally loosens and you reluctantly get out of bed. He gives your ass a playful spank as you do.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” You scold him with a smile as you dig through your dresser for anything that was clean.

“Got a good reason to be,” He grins, resting his arms behind his head and stretching out over the bed. You can’t help the blush that creeps into your cheeks. Logan never missed an opportunity to compliment you.

You, a little reluctantly, pull on a pair of jeans and one of his white shirts. Slowly but surely all your laundry was getting intermingled to the point of no return. That and you know he always liked when you wore something of his. You don’t think any of your own tee-shirts were clean anyway.

Yeah, it’s probably time to do laundry.

You top it off with a loose black cardigan to seem somewhat teacherly. You gather your folders with today’s syllabus. You had three classes today. Logan usually had two— if you could you really call PE and survival basics a class. The kids usually just roped him and Kurt into playing flag football with them. It was adorable in its own Logany way.

“I’ll see you out there, Professor Logan,” you give him a peck on the forehead before shimming on your shoes.

“God, don’t ever call me that again.” He chuckles, covering his face with his forearm.

“Would you prefer daddy?”

His hand immediately drops, “Don’t tempt me, darlin’.”

You’re at the door now, giving yourself one last moment to admire the perfect man sprawled out in your bed.

“Don’t sleep in too late,” you open the door.

“See you out there, toots.”

______

There are only a few more warm days left in fall and you refuse to let them go to waste. You always liked holding classes outside anyway. This was Environmental Science after all. As an earthmover, it always felt natural. Feeling the actual ground under your feet made everything easier to teach in a way.

You’re teaching the different types of erosion this week. The class is gathered on the grass on the edge of the pond as you hover different rocks around them. Examples of river-smoothed stones, bed clay, and a few from the Grand Canyon you’d brought in from your personal collection.

You’d never thought of yourself as the best teacher but the kids seemed to at least enjoy the theatricality. You knew dirt. You knew the earth, and that seemed to be enough.

You hear the PE class run out onto the other side of the lawn, Logan dutifully following behind them. You don’t even need to look to feel his eyes on you. You're not sure if you're irritated by the distraction or think it’s a little cute he wants to be near you.

Well, if he’s going to distract you and your class, you might as well distract him. The kids had started a game of frisbee golf, something his full attention didn’t need to be on anyway. Logan always joked he was just a glorified babysitter. You take off your cardigan when you feel a small gust of wind. His head immediately snaps your direction when you do.

He’d told you before he liked the mix of your scents. The more animalistic part of him liked it anyway. He always seemed ashamed of it, despite your insistence you didn’t care. You could never truly understand, sure, but that didn’t change your feelings for him. Besides, you didn’t mind feeding the animal every once in a while.

You’d reached the end of your class period and quickly dismissed your students, reminding them of the homework as they scurried back into the mansion. You remain outside, cleaning up the small mess your lesson had made.

You still feel Logan’s eyes on you. You can’t help the excitement his gaze stirs in you. Logan did something to you no other man had ever done— he made you feel desirable in ways you’d never experienced.

It was an incredible turn-on, to say the least.

You feel your panties slowly start to wetten. You see a shift in his posture in the distance. You smile, bending over to pick up the loose papers you’d left on a nearby bench. You pause there far longer than you needed to— just a small tease but you know it’s something that’ll drive you crazy. He always said he liked you in these jeans the most.

You feel his eyes burning into your back the entire walk to the mansion. You can’t help but smile.

______

You're leaning against the front of your desk, looking over tomorrow's lesson, when you hear his signature booming steps hurrying down the hallway. It’d been an hour since your last class ended. He enters the office, closing the door behind him immediately.

“Professor Logan,” You greet him teasingly, leaning back against the desk.

He says nothing as he stalks towards you with heavy steps, crashing his mouth into yours. You pull him in as he inserts his body between your legs. His mouth is hungry against yours— desperate even. His lips trail down to your jaw.

“You think you’re cute, huh? Prancing around in my clothes, showing off your ass, gettin’—”

“I’m very cute,” you giggle as he nips at you.

He growls, pulling you up to lead you back to the desk chair. He liked it when you sat on his lap. It was both of your lunch breaks. You’d always spend them together, though usually not in your shared office.

Charles required everyone to have office hours, even Logan. He fought it every step of the way until he finally relented to just sharing yours. He was almost never here. He didn’t have a reason to be— well unless you were there. His desk sits across from yours just as bare as the day it was put in. Yours, on the other hand, was quickly cluttering as the school year went on.

“Still worked up from this morning,” Logan admits as he nips at your lip, “Need you, sweet thing.”

Absolutely insatiable.

“Poor boy,” You tease, your hands slowly trailing down to his obnoxious belt buckle. “I’ll take care of you.”

You always liked to tease him more than you’d care to admit. He’d get so worked up over the smallest things. You were always happy to indulge him… every fucking time.

You sink down to your knees, pulling his jeans with you. His cock bulges out against his boxers, already hard and waiting. You palm at him, giving him a rough squeeze through the fabric. He hums in approval. God, he always felt so good.

There’s almost a sigh of relief when you pull him free. You give him a few rough strokes before your tongue follows, trailing up from his base and swirling around his tip, pre cum already leaking free. His rough hands grip your hair as you lavish his cock with your tongue.

You pause at the tip, placing a single feather light kiss before taking him completely into your mouth. He chokes out a strangled moan, doing his best to stay quiet. Luckily, the walls of the mansion were thick.

The grip in your hair tightens as you find a rhythm.

“T-that's it,” his voice is shaky, dripping with pleasure, “Just like that. Good girl.”

He always praised you. Whether giving or receiving, he always made sure you felt seen.

A part of this excited you so much. It was scandalous, having him splayed out like this at your work desk, doing your best to suppress the moans that brew in your throat from the thrill of it all. You loved making him fall apart. This was just as much for him as it was for you. You were both having fun. Both acting like giddy, horny, little teenagers.

His grip in your hair shifts, and you feel him tense under you. He can’t be close already? Before you have time to ask what’s going on you’re being shoved underneath your own desk. You want to scream what the absolute fuck?! before you hear the office door being clicked open.

“Logan?” It's Scott’s voice.

“What?” Logan bites out, leaning over the front of the desk to conceale you completely. Thank god Charles always insisted on these massive solid oak desks.

“I’m just— You’re sitting at Dozer’s desk,” Scott stammers out.

“Had something I needed,” he quickly lied.

You’re cramped into a wooden box basically, one of the walls being made out of thick muscled legs with a heavy cock still hanging between them. You were playing a game with Logan, might as well make it more interesting.

“Have you seen her?” Scott asks, “I needed—”

“No.” Logan only grits out, “She’s probably down in the—”

He cuts himself off the moment your hand grasps his cock again. You can’t help but smile when you run your tongue back up the velvet length. He can’t move his arms because that would expose you. He can’t move his legs because there’s not enough room with you between them. He’s stuck here while you torture him in the sweetest way possible. You don’t miss the way his cock jumps when you take him back into your mouth.

“She’s where Logan?” Scott, blissfully unaware, prompts him.

“I don’t— I don’t fucking know,” You swear you can almost feel him shaking with the effort to keep his voice steady, “Why don’t you go fucking look for her then, huh?”

There isn’t as much room to move your head as you’d like, so you let your tongue and hands do most of the work.

“Well, can I just get on her computer?” You hear Scott take a step closer. Oh no, “I just need a—”

“Piss off, Summers!” He practically growls it out. “You need her then go fucking find her.”

You hear Scott scoff as he takes a step back. To be fair, this was completely in character for the two of them. It was doubtful Scott suspected anything. You reach up and give Logan’s balls a gentle fondle while you worship his tip with your tongue as silently as you can.

Finally, you hear Scott retreat to the hallway.

“I don’t know why she’s with you, Logan. I really don’t.” He spits before slamming the door behind him.

Logan doesn’t waste a second once the door is closed again, pushing the chair back and grabbing your face roughly. His cock falls from your mouth with a wanton gasp. You must look like a mess but can’t bring yourself to care.

He just holds you there for a moment, your mouth just inches away from his cock. His eyes have glossed over with lust. He loved this, you know he fucking loved this because you did too.

“You’re trouble,” he says, pulling you both to standing, “You’re so much fucking trouble.”

He turns you around and bends you over the desk immediately, a few pencil cups shaking with the force. He yanks down your jeans a little rougher than you’d like but you still kick them off the rest of the way. Your underwear still remained in place. He kicks your legs wider and trails a hand up your back, pressing his palm down between your shoulders. His other hand drips between your legs, a finger rubbing over your clothed pussy.

“Fucking soaked through already?” he purrs. “You get wet sucking my cock, baby?”

“Yes.” It practically comes out as a plea. Well, it’s only fair he’s toying with you now. Your legs are almost shaking in anticipation.

You squirm as he starts to rub the damp fabric directly over your clit. His hand on your back presses you down harder, pinning you in place. He’s doing what you did to him— in his own way. Trapped at his mercy.

He pushes your underwear to the side, two fingers running through your slick folds a few times before delving in. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, barely successful in silencing yourself. He curls his fingers, back and forth as he works his hand up and down. Anyone could walk in that door at any moment. Logan would stop if he heard anyone coming again—right?

“You know what you do to me?” His voice is ragged, almost pained, “Fuck, do you have any idea?”

His pace is speeding up and your restraint is slipping, but there’s nothing you can do to get out of this. And, fuck you don’t want him to stop either. You’re completely his right now.

You finally let out a wail when rips his hand out of your cunt and slaps it across your ass. His touch stays there, gripping the stinging skin, sharp pain quickly melting to the pleasure that was racking your whole body. He takes his other hand off your back. You don’t move, your stomach stirring in anticipation.

It feels better than it should when his hard, massive cock runs over your soaked pussy. He’d dialed up all of your nerves to eleven. You involuntarily ach back into him like a fucking bitch in heat.

“Oh Christ, why are you with me…” he lines himself up, “That’s what Summers said, right? He doesn’t know why you’re with me?”

“Logan—” You attempt to speak up before the air in your lungs vanishes when he thrusts inside of you in one jarring motion. He stays there a good moment, grinding his hips into your ass, gathering himself. God, he was so fucking deep. He draws out and slams back in again. You hear the desk creaking in protest this time, several items falling off.

He leans over you, hot tongue trailing up your spine before nuzzling his face in next to your ear.

“I know why,” He starts to roll his hips against yours. His imposing body and magic dick were taking over every sense you had. God, you wish you could scream. “It’s because you know no one else can fuck you like I can. Can take care of you like I can.”

He nips at your ear as he finds a pace, tiny low grunts escaping in rhythm with his hips. This was just as much about dominating you as it was about being as close to you as humanly possible. Mixing your scents and desires together until the line is blurred between the two. Yes, Logan fucked you unlike anyone else had, and your certain better than anyone else ever could, but he also loved you harder than you ever knew possible.

Loyal to a fault. It’s instincts, he always said. You always hated when he compared himself to an animal, but in a lot of ways it's just part of who he was. He seemed past trying to deny it and embrace it in his own way. Let the beast free, so to speak.

“Tell me,” He growls into your ear, “Tell me who makes you feel this good.”

You struggled to form the single-word answer, but it eventually came out, whined and shaky.

“Y-y-you,” you swear you’re drooling, “O-only you, b-baby. O-only—” You trail off, likely losing all brain function to the intoxicating filth of it all.

“That’s right. T-that’s right,” he chants a few times like he’s fucking praising himself for it, “Only me. You’re all mine. I’m all yours.”

You’re not sure if it’s a gasp of surprise or pain that escapes you when he lifts you both. He holds you against him, still fucking you while you’re both standing. You’re forced to stand on your tiptoes, your hands grasping onto the forearm around your chest for any sense of balance. You weighed nothing to him. He’s still fucking you senseless. He’s holding you both up and still fucking you senseless.

You swear you go blind when his other hand snakes down to your clit.

“Shoulda stayed in bed this morning,” His stubble rubs against your cheek, “Wouldn’t have to fuck you like this if we— shit— if we had time this morning.”

“L–Logan, I–I—” You start to warn him but can’t manage to get it all out. Nevertheless, you’re sure he knows. He always knows when you’re close. You feel it, the mounting pressure at your core. Sweet, precious relief.

“I know, baby. I know.”

It hits you like a train, hard and almost completely by surprise. The hand around your chest immediately comes up to clamp around your mouth. You scream against his palm while he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, practically using you like a goddamn sex toy at this point.

He mutters out a string of curses while he attempts to maintain his equilibrium— and eventually fails. He collapses back into the chair behind him, dragging you with him. He almost slips out. Almost. He holds you close against his chest, hips completely still against your ass as he pulses rope after rope into you.

“Good girl, good girl,” you hear him muttering into your neck like a prayer.

Your haggard moans into his hand eventually fade into one long heavy sigh, finally allowing yourself to relax against him. You feel his body unwind as well, his previously firm hand over your mouth coming to stroke your cheek. His lips lull around your neck, placing sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss wherever he could reach. He was always so gentle after sex. Those hands that were so rough just a moment ago gently glide over your skin. You always find comfort in their heft.

“Do you think anyone heard us?” you finally ask, leaning your head back against his.

“Fuck ‘em if they did,” he nuzzles himself right under your jaw. Close— he always had to be so close.

“Charles is gonna fire us if he ever finds out,” you bring your hands up to your face, rubbing into your eyes just a little too hard.

“You can’t fire an X-Man.”

“Teachers, Logan, we’re teachers.” Ah good, the mortification was settling in just in time to ruin the moment. Fabulous.

“Stop it,” you swear you can hear the smile in his voice.

“He’s gonna read our minds and see what absolute animals we are and he’s gonna fire us.” The irony that you're saying this out loud while Logan is still fully inside you in your shared office is not lost on you. You feel his chest bouncing against your back, chuckling lightly at your dismay of your surely oncoming termination. You can’t help but laugh along with him, just a little.

You eventually untangle your bodies and fish your pants off the floor. Maybe you had time for a shower before your next class. Christ, you need one. Logan wasn’t the only mutant with advanced senses in the school and the last thing you need is teenagers starting a rumor mill about two teachers fucking in their office. Still, when you look back at Logan you know you’d do it all over again regardless.

Whatever this was with him, whatever you’d started, you know you can’t stop it. The thought should terrify you, but for once you’re not afraid.

You reach out and grab his hand, “Wanna grab lunch?”

“Thought you’d never ask, darlin’.”

#logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine smut #Logan smut #x men #wolverine x f!reader

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rebelssvy · 4 months ago

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roommates ✧.*

ushijima x reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

⋆·˚ ༘ *

summary: ushi is your roommate and saw your phone with porn on it. creating an interesting relationship with you two. sex, smut, porn

i added twt links bc why not just to make it juicer lol

the worst thing to ever possibly happen, happened. while getting some cereal at one a.m, you had been scrolling on your own personally private twitter account. do you have porn on there? yes. do you actually watch it? yes. did you mean to leave it open on the counter top? no. not at all.

so to your horror as you ran to the pantry for some more cereal, you came back to the kitchen to find your your roomate, ushijima, standing right above your phone.

the action of him ease dropping isn’t what got you, he often snoops around your shared apartment. it was the audio you heard coming from it that made you jump out of your skin.

in the dead quiet of your dimly litted apartment, the audio of a girl getting absolutely railed by a man echoed.

“oh my god!” you scrambled, running over to your phone you shut it off. then threw it across the room it landing on the couch.

your hands instantly found your face, everything was burning up. ushi was normally a kind of awkward guy. not ever really saying much and when he did, it was always just kind of awkward.

did this stop you from having a crush on him? of course not. how could it? he was fucking huge. his muscles could make you pop from a hug. and he was also caring. even if he stuggled showing it. so you had no idea how he was about to handle this.

“you don’t have to be embarrassed y/n.” his voice prodded through the silence. it was deep, hushed. it wasn’t until a hand found your back that you looked up to him.

“i’m so so so sorry ushi!” you said turning to face him, putting your hands on his chest and burrying your head into his pecks. being touchy with him wasn’t abnormal. he just never really reciprocated it. that didn’t bother you.

“i’m… i’m just gonna go to bed.” you said before leaving your cereal on the counter, grabbing your phone and walking away.

that night you slept in horror. praying that he wouldn’t move out because of the action.

that night ushijima was more sexually frustrated then he had ever been.

✧.*

the next day when you two were at dinner, he brought up the situation from last night.

“god.. you don’t have to try to make me feel better. just forget about it.” you stood shaking your head. you two were out at a random restaurant about to leave when he asked you about it. you really wished he could just forget.

“you know y/n.. everyone watches porn.” he said it casually. tone unwavering. your eyes darted to his, attempting to read his emotions. to which you were met with a straight face.

the rest of the night you kept thinking about what that meant. does the ushijima wakatoshi watch porn? no way. i mean… there is no way right? in your head he could never be tempted. he’s too idk. perfect.

those words haunted you until you got home. every moment of silence between you lead back to the mental image you created.

finally walking through the door you decided to bring it up with him. you just didn’t know how.

he waked to his bedroom as you made you way to the kitchen for a drink. “hey ushi..?” you called out. he only responded when he walked back in with a changed, more casual outfit.

“yes y/n?” he replied finding a spot on your shared couch. instantly stretching he made himself comfortable as he flexed his biceps ever so subtlety. your eyes wandered to wear his shirt poked up. a flips of his happy trail peaked out. “do you have a question?” he said. your eyes snapped back to his face. you only nodded in reply.

going and sitting down next to him, sitting cris cross legged. as he faced forward his head turned to you. you were close, but not as close as you wished you were. so you opted to scoot closer to him. one of your knees now touching his thigh.

“earlier, i just can’t get it out of my mind… you said yk ‘everyone watches porn.’… and i was just wondering if like.. excuse me if im over stepping here but, if you watched.. porn?” your skin felt hot. like you were burning up. after you said it you wished you could take it back.

there was a long pause, and you swore you died and came back to life. just as you were about to excuse yourself to suffer an eternity of embarrassment, he responded.

“yes i watch porn.”

it was the answer you had longed for. craved and yearned. but now what? you asked him.. now what do you do?

“okay…” you said, hesitant. “i’m sorry. i don’t know what to say i’m so embarrassed oh my g-“ he stopped you mid sentence. cutting you off to say,

“want to see what i watch?” his tone was so casual that he never seemed more comfortable to talk to you. you couldn’t give him a verbal yes, so you shook your head yes instead.

you gasped as he moved his arm closer to you, only to grab his phone your thigh had been covering up. you watched intently, all nerves stood on end as he traveled to his notes app. you watched as he unlocked a hidden folder that revealed several links and notes under them. this was so ushijima. you thought to yourself.

“can i?” you asked while scooting closer to him. he flushed and shook his head yes. you scrolled through tens of links and notes beneath them like, ‘threesome two boys one girl.’ or ‘good creampie.’ it wasn’t out of the ordinary until one really caught your eye. it was a link, then labeled. ‘y/n.’ you gasped reading your name. then he caught on right away. obviously embarrassed he shut his phone off and didn’t say anything.

curiosity struck at your bones. what was that video? what did it have my name on it?

“can i.. can we maybe watch some of them..?” you leaned into him now bringing the phone back up to seversace level and unlocking it. he never said no. he shook his head yes before saying.

“let me explain-“ you cut him off, pressing a finger to his mouth before saying. “we will save that one for last how bout that…” you were now flirting with him. and he could tell. he shook his head yes once again as you scrolled through all the different links.

finally clicking on one you watched it with him side by side. you watched as a boyfriend penetrated his smaller girlfriend with his huge cock. you felt ushijima squirm next to you, obviously uncomfortable.

“fuck…” you said without realizing. your head whipped to his but he was already looking at you. and god.. he was so handsome. his lips parted slightly, glossed from his own saliva

“can i please kiss you?” he asked while dropping his hand and now holding your face. before giving him an answer you brought your face to his with passion. kissing him so intently. your lips molded around each others. it was hot. it was almost too much to handle. a line of saliva connected the two of you as you parted.

you picked up his phone and went back to scrolling. this time his hands were all over you, touching every part of your body. brushing over it of pinching at it, he needed to feel you.

you moaned as he brought his head to your neck and slurped at all your open skin. you watched videos that he had saved, making mental notes about how the women in them are. or what he was into like, two lovers forced to be quiet or how the girl in the video spread herself open to get finger fucked.

finally you made your way to the video with your name on it. ushijima had now brought his eyes back to you, nervous of what was about to happen. in silence you clicked on it. just to find a video of a girl with your body type and look getting absolutely pounded.

“i’ve never been fucked like that before…” you admitted, breaking the silence. you looked over to him. dropping the phone now.

“fuck y/n… i’m trying really hard right now to be a gentleman but your making it hard.” he dropped his head back before bringing a hand to his hair and messing with it.

“fuck that! just fuck me please oh my god!” you squealed out, shocked that you even said it. you smacked a hand over your mouth. but it was too late. ushijima had already taken you into his arms. carrying you into his room.

“i haven’t..” he started while throwing his clothes off, and undoing yours next, “been able to get you out of my mind. i need you so bad” he admitted now laying you down on the bed.

it was all happening too quickly. and yet his pace was awfully slow for you. fully naked you stared at him. he stared back at you.

finally his fingers trailed your asshole before finding your cunt. it was soaked already, ushijima was seeing stars. “fuck your so wet..” he groaned. “can i?” he asked for your consent.

“yes! ushi~just fuck me!” you moaned as his hand cupped your soft little cunt. he stood above you, spread your legs open and pressed his middle finger into your tight little hole. taking it out to draw circles on your clit. your back arched at all of his motions. you squirmed under his touch.

“god your so fucking tight. so fucking pretty.” he groaned before putting another finger into you. pumping it in and out of you at reckless pace.

“need more… i need your cock ushi..!” you moaned out grabbing at his length. you jerked him off a couple strokes before he pulled his fingers out of you and pushed them in your mouth.

you sucked your own juices off his digits. and oh my god, ushijima had never felt hotter. he felt like he was on fire.

now on the bed with you he threw your body around into a doggy position. your ass in the air. he waited seconds just looking at you before he positioned his cock near your hole.

as his fat tip sank its way further into your sobbing cunt, the more your pussy sucked him in. half way in and he thought he was going to cum. he pushed the feeling deep down into his soul. he needed to fuck you first.

“ushijimaaa~ fuck! ah-! your so fucking bi-i-g!” and with that moan of his name, he swore he heard wedding bells.

a new fuel fired his engine, as he pounded your wet cunt from behind. your arched your back further. the sensation was too much for you. the feeling of you stretching out around his fat cock. you could feel him everywhere.

your cream gathered at the base of his cock, it made his mind go hazy. pushing your farther into the bed, he rested more of his weight on you. slamming his cock in and out of you. your noises filled the room. the way you clenched around home you knew you were close.

“fuck you like that? cmon y/n.. cum around my fucking cock.” his words sent you over the edge. shaking and spasming beneath him you cursed out moans. saying ‘fuck ushi-! god i fucking love your dick ohmygod’ it wasn’t until his pace slowed slightly that you realized that he wasn’t stopping.

“i’ve been waiting to fuck uou for months baby. cmon gimmie a nother one cmon…” you watched all his composer slip away as he pounded your overstimulated body. flipping you on your front you got pounded face to face with him. his eyebrows furrowed. he was such a sight.

you felt your second orgasm approaching. he reached down to circle your creamy clit. as soon as he touched it pleasure ripped through you. your body lurching forward. you shook with the feeling.

“imcummingfu-c! god ushi~ your cock oh my god. fuck your so fucking good ah-!” you moaned, almost screaming him praise. he came on the spot. his cock filling you up with his seed. you felt him everywhere.

“god your so perfect. oh my god fuck y/n.” he said through grunts and groans. finally he fell next to you. kissing your sweaty body.

getting cereal at one am was the best thing you’ve ever done.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

i missed writing about him so u know i had to do it

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navybrat817 · 3 months ago

Text

I'll Be Okay

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: When Bucky accidentally harms you, he questions whether or not he's worthy of you and your love.

Word Count: Over 3.7k

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, accidental injury (small cut), mention of blood, mention of past injuries (not reader's), slight canon divergence (aftermath of torture, PTSD), self-loathing, angst, insecurities, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: This idea hit me and here we are! The quote is a partial lyric change from "I'll Be OK" by Nothing More. Thanks to @yenzys-lucky-charm and @starlightcrystalline for their help. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky had an established routine before he went to bed each night. Screen time stopped an hour before he went to sleep so his mind and body could start to wind down. He changed into his pajamas, washed his face, and brushed his teeth. He read for fifteen minutes, nothing too intense or emotional since heavy topics would make his mind start to race again. The last thing he did were deep breathing exercises, imagining relaxing scenes as he inhaled, exhaled, and released the tension in his body.

Relaxing into the mattress, he smiled to himself. It took him some time to get accustomed to it, but he was glad he gave it a chance since he was determined to make his bedroom a safe haven. It took time and effort, but it worked. The atmosphere was relaxing and soothing. The blackout curtains helped him embrace the darkness since it was darkness of his choice. He hadn’t slept on the floor in months. He felt a sense of peace.

“Night,” you yawned.

It was difficult to see you in the pitch-black room, but he smiled more when he heard your heartbeat. The perfume you wore earlier today still lingered on your skin. Your hand touched his and he felt that sense of peace all over again.

The two of you started dating almost a year ago, short enough that it still felt new but also long enough that he felt comfortable. He didn't feel the need to hide his thoughts or feelings from you and you understood when he had his bad days. You were so patient, so caring. You were everything he wanted and nothing he deserved.

You didn't start spending the night until you hit the six-month mark. It worried him the first night because even sex didn’t disrupt his routine, and he didn’t want that to bother you. Just like you supported him in everything else, you were more than happy to support his evening habits. You even took a page from his book and started cutting out your screen time early so it wouldn’t disturb him. You were thoughtful like that, and he considered himself a lucky guy to have someone like you.

Especially when it came to his nightmares.

You were gentle and calm whenever he woke up from a nightmare, never trying to wake him abruptly and risk causing further distress. Respecting boundaries was something you both cultivated, so you never forced or pushed him to talk about his experiences or what he dreamed about. When he did, you listened without judgement and didn't dismiss his concerns or fears. No matter what, you were quick to offer comfort and help him get back to sleep or stay awake with him.

For all his crimes, he somehow ended up with a wonderful and understanding partner.

“Night,” he whispered into the darkness, pressing a kiss to your temple.

It didn’t take you long to fall asleep, your breathing steady. Closing his eyes, he slid his hand under his pillow and instinctively closed his hand around the small knife handle. His eyes opened immediately, his next breath caught in his throat. Why did he have his knife there?

Sleeping with a knife had been a coping mechanism and he typically did so on missions, but he tried to let it go at home once you started sleeping over. Tightening his grip, he remembered he had it there the night before because you had to sleep at your apartment. He swore he moved it to the nightstand before you came over. Did he… Shit, did he mean to do that and forget about it?

As much as his memory improved, he still had moments of forgetfulness. A likely permanent side effect thanks to the years of torture. It was one of the reasons why he liked having a routine. It helped him cope as well as improved his memory thanks to the repeated steps. Making lists helped, too.

“I’m safe. She’s safe,” he whispered.

The debate of having weapons in the bedroom was a tough choice since it was meant to be a safe space. He wanted to have weapons nearby for protection, but also wanted them far away in case something triggered him. He convinced himself that one knife was okay. One knife wouldn't hurt him.

But after his last nightmare, he didn’t think it was a good idea to have a knife under the pillow.

It had been a rough night, one of the roughest he could recall in ages. Surrounded by his demons and sins, he felt utterly alone. It was better that way. No one else should ever hear the agony or see the twisted horrors in his head. It was for an audience of one. But, still, he fought. He tried.

And his hand moved.

Bucky had been on autopilot, wanting desperately to fully wake himself up. His body tried to protect him while his mind continued to cling to his neverending nightmare. He just needed to open his eyes and be free for one more day.

He had sat up with a gasp, this haze in his mind finally lifting. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes. I go by Bucky,” he panted to remind himself that he wasn’t dreaming. “I was born on March 17th, 1917. I’m in my bed, and I’m holding a knife.”

He had been holding a knife.

And he sliced through the sheet where you would’ve been laying.

He barely made it to the toilet before he wretched. He had nightmares of you being tortured, your screams driving him to the brink of insanity when he wanted so desperately to save you. There were nightmares, too, where outside forces made him inflict pain on you. He swore he’d never harm you. If you had been asleep beside him… It made him sick all over again.

Which was why he tried not to sleep with a knife in bed anymore.

Carefully slipping his hand out from under the pillow, he kept an ear out for you. He didn’t want to risk waking or jolting you. He just had to put the knife away so he could cuddle with you and get some much needed rest.

But some higher being or life itself enjoyed messing with Bucky Barnes.

You rolled from your back to your side the second his hand moved through the air. He was fast, should’ve been faster, but it didn’t stop the blade from slicing your skin before he could pull his hand back. He knew the second you woke up, a startled and pained cry escaping. No… no.

He dropped the knife on the nightstand with a shaky hand and turned on the light. The first thing he saw was your face scrunched in pain as you sat up in bed and examined your arm. The crimson drew his attention next because he knew your body better than he knew his own and there shouldn't be a cut there… or blood. There shouldn't be pain etched on your beautiful face.

For a split second, Bucky thought he was having a nightmare. He wanted it to be a nightmare, didn't want it to be real, but the cry he heard wasn't in his head. It wasn't a dream.

It was a living nightmare.

“What did I do?” His voice shook. Tears stung his eyes.

God, what did he do?

Your lips moved, but he felt like he was hearing the words underwater. “Bucky? Did you have a nightmare? Are you okay?”

You were asking if he was okay?

“Oh, my God.” he whispered in horror, his eyes wide. “I…” He cut you. He hurt you. Something he vowed to never do. “I’m sorry. Fuck. Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you tried to assure him, clutching your arm closer like you were trying not to get blood on the sheets. “It was an accident.”

“It’s not okay!” he said, trying not to raise his voice. Frightening you was the last thing he wanted to do. “Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry,” he said, carefully rounding the bed and making sure he kept himself in your line of sight. “I-I didn't mean to. I was trying to move it to the nightstand. I thought I put it back.”

“I know you didn’t mean to,” you assured him, showing him the small wound. “But I need your help.”

He tried not to panic, but his heart wouldn't stop racing and his next breath felt ragged. “I…”

How could you possibly want his help? He was no longer the Winter Soldier, yet he was still a weapon who destroyed everything he touched. He fooled himself into believing that you were the exception, but look what he did? Your beautiful skin might have a scar now because of him, a constant reminder that he brought nothing but pain and destruction.

“Bucky, please,” you whispered, slowly lifting your hand. You let it hover near his cheek, silently asking for permission, the way you always did after he had a bad dream. He allowed himself to lean in, selfishly accepting it and taking from you the way he always took from you. “Help me.”

He dared to look in your eyes with the hope of centering himself and prayed he wouldn't see fear or disgust. There was none, only trust and love when you looked back at him. It was enough to push the panic away. He could be upset later. Right now he had to take care of you and fix his mistake.

“Okay,” he breathed.

He took your arm with infinite tenderness to examine it and blinked away the mist in his eyes. The cut, thankfully, didn’t look jagged or deep. It was a clean cut. In fact, it looked superficial compared to the damage it could've done. It still had to hurt since a sharp blade sliced your skin and there was still blood.

A wounded sound left Bucky’s lips when his gaze flickered up and he spotted a tear slide down your cheek. As if he had any right to make a sound like that when he caused you pain. The angel that you were, you offered him a soft smile. Any other night your voice and smile would’ve soothed him, but he didn't deserve that tonight. He didn't deserve comfort. He was unworthy of it, unworthy of any of your kindness or care.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” he said, his voice rough. He wasn't a doctor by any stretch of the imagination, but he certainly experienced enough of his own cuts and stitched up enough wounds to know. “Can I carry you to the bathroom?”

Logically, he knew you were capable of walking there on your own, but he wanted to hold you. Make himself useful. You must've sensed it since you nodded without hesitation. “Of course.”

Picking you up in his arms, he felt numb as he carried you. Why couldn’t he have accidentally cut himself instead? He experienced plenty of wounds, and had plenty of scars. What was one more?

He took a second to breathe in your scent before he set you on the edge of the tub, worried he might not smell it again if you decided to leave for the rest of the night. “I need to apply pressure to it,” he said, saying the steps out loud for both of you as he washed his hands and grabbed the first aid kit. “Once the bleeding stops, I can clean it.”

You nodded, keeping your arm elevated. “Okay,” you said, your gaze going to his shaking hands. “Deep breath, Bucky.”

Breathing in slowly and releasing it, he willed himself to stop shaking. He didn’t realize the metal arm could shake, but it made sense since it was an extension of himself. Avoiding your gaze as he pressed the gauze to your wound, his teeth snapped together when he heard the wince you tried not to let out. As if he didn’t hate himself enough for the damage he’d done, you were trying to be brave and strong for him.

Once the bleeding stopped, he turned the water on. The sight of the red on the gauze made his stomach turn since it was your blood. “Soap and water next.”

You offered him a small smile again while he cleaned it, but he couldn’t smile back. “The cut doesn't look bad at all. Barely a scratch,” you mused once he finished and grabbed the tweezers. “What are those for?”

“It was a small blade,” he said, swallowing hard. “I know it isn’t a deep cut, but I’m just making sure there isn’t anything in it. We don’t want it to get infected.” Both of you kept the bedroom clean and he also took great care of his knives, but that didn’t mean dust or something else didn’t seep its way in.

You nodded again, letting him do what he needed to before he applied petroleum jelly. “That helps with the healing, right?”

His heart turned over. You were keeping him talking and not allowing his mind to slip into a dark place. “That’s right. I know you’re not a big fan of the word ‘moist’, but, well, keeping it moist helps,” he said, putting the bandage on. You wrinkled your nose, something he usually found adorable. Seeing you do it now, he wanted to cry. “I think that should do it. Do you… need anything for the pain?”

“You did a great job,” you smiled gently, which only made his heart ache more. “I don't need anything, but thank you for asking.”

“You sure you aren't being stubborn?” he tried to tease.

Cuts and bruises, he could handle those. Things like aspirin didn't do anything for him anyway thanks to the serum. What about you? What if your arm ached?

You laughed a little. “If I do need something, you'll be the first to know.”

You looked past your arm into the tub. He looked, too, watching the last trace of blood go down the drain. Or maybe he imagined it. The last time he came back from a bad mission, you helped him wash his hair and wipe away the remaining blood and dirt. You made him feel clean again as every speck disappeared. And what had he given you in return?

What good was he?

“Are you okay?” he barely whispered. God, he wanted you to be okay.

“I am,” you answered without hesitation, turning his face toward you. “Seriously, Bucky. It’s just a scratch, and it was an accident.”

“It shouldn’t have happened in the first place,” he said, pulling away from your touch. He feared he’d taint you if you kept touching him. “And you shouldn’t have to put up with me.”

You inhaled so sharply he thought you’d choke on your breath. “I don’t put up with you. I love you.”

How could your love break his heart?

Emotions whirled inside him as he sank to the cold floor. He hugged his knees to his chest and stared off with vacant eyes. Faces of the people he harmed and killed over the years passed in his mind. Blaming him. Telling him he didn't deserve you.

He didn't, did he?

He didn’t see you move to the floor beside him, but he felt your presence. It was his job to comfort you, make you feel better. Instead he began to shut down. He didn’t want to. Why was he allowing himself to go under?

“Bucky?” you asked after a few minutes passed.

His good and his bad days, you always stayed beside him. But you had to be afraid of him now, right? He wouldn’t blame you if you were. He also wouldn’t blame you if you never trusted him again.

“One of the happiest days of my life was when you and I started dating. Luck was finally on my side,” he said, remembering the smile on your face when he asked you to go out with him. He was on cloud nine when you said yes. “And then you eventually started sleeping over and I thought my luck was continuing to turn around.” He laughed a watery laugh. “I was going to ask you to move in with me soon.”

You placed your hand over his, not wanting to interrupt, but wanting him to know that you were listening and taking in every word.

“But I lied to you. I said I’d never hurt you and I did,” he said, biting his lip to the point where he almost drew blood. “You were the one person I was supposed to protect and take care of and…” He whimpered, doing his damnedest not to sob. “I can’t even protect you from myself.”

He couldn't even blame a nightmare for what he did because it was all him.

“You do protect and take care of me. You do it every single day,” you said. If he could see himself through your eyes, he’d believe it. “You're my hero.”

He finally looked at you and he didn't stop you from holding his face in your hands. How could he be your hero when felt like a villain? “Take care of you? Look what I did to your arm.” Tonight was a small cut and an accident, truly, but would if one day he did something worse? He still feared the day something triggered him and he went after the ones he loved the most.

You barely gave your arm a glance, like it didn't bother you at all. “That wasn't done on purpose. I would never hold something like that over your head and you wouldn't do it to me if the roles were reversed.”

The lump in his throat made it hard to speak. “But I’m supposed to be faster.”

Bucky faced his share of punishments when he wasn't the perfect machine. He wasn't supposed to feel. Only follow orders. It was hard to accept some days that he was truly free, that he was allowed to make mistakes. Being with you reminded him that he wasn't a machine, but that he was a human being.

And human beings weren't perfect no matter how hard they tried to be.

“You��re still fast. Still strong,” you said, your voice steady and firm, urging him to believe you. “But, Bucky, at the end of the day, accidents happen and we can't always protect each other from pain. That’s just not possible.”

He wanted to argue that he should keep you safe from pain, but he knew in his heart that you were right. “So we help and comfort each other?” he asked.

“Exactly. And I promise you I’m okay.”

“You’re really okay?” he whispered.

“I’m really okay,” you whispered back.

His shoulders dropped and tears spilled over before he could stop them. You weren't going to let him shoulder the blame no matter how hard he tried. “If you want to leave…” He couldn’t finish his sentence, but he’d get it if you wanted to go back to your place instead.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, giving him renewed strength and relief. “Especially since you were going to ask me to move in. What kind of partner would I be if I just left?”

“You’re the best,” he swore. The best person, partner, everything. “And I’m sorry.”

He had to say it once more and he wasn't sure how he’d make it up to you, but he’d find a way.

“There's nothing to be sorry for,” you whispered, brushing the softest of kisses against his lips as you wiped his tears away. “But if you really feel like you have to say it, then I forgive you.”

He couldn't believe some days how forgiving you were, how deep your love for him ran. “You still love me? Because I love you so much.”

“Always,” you promised.

Your answer allowed him to cry harder. In the safe space of his home with the woman he loved holding him and not running away, he didn't have to suppress his emotions. He could embrace it, the bad and the good, the ugly and the beautiful.

“Thank you,” he whispered once his crying slowed. Tears fell from your eyes, too. He tasted them when he kissed your cheeks. “It really was an accident.”

“I know,” you softly smiled. “How about we add checking the bed for knives and anything else to your bedtime routine?”

“That’s a good idea,” he said. It would be easy to add that to his nightly list. “I don’t…”

He looked toward the door, not wanting to say he couldn’t sleep in the bed tonight. At least not until he changed the sheets, even if there wasn’t a drop of blood on them. Even then he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to sleep at all.

“Maybe we can curl up on the floor together with some blankets and pillows?” you offered, letting him make the choice.

There you went again being the understanding and patient partner, willing to curl up on an uncomfortable floor to make him feel better. “I’d like that.”

“Are you going to be okay?” you asked before he pressed a kiss to your lips.

It was a question you asked after every nightmare, every bad day.

He considered his answer before he uttered, “I will be.”

The truth was, he believed he had wounds that would never fully heal no matter how hard he tried. Something would come along out of nowhere and tear them open. If he were a better man, he’d let you go so you could find someone not so damaged. Instead he chained you to his side and dragged you down with him. But he remembered something you once said to him.

“We can learn to forgive and be forgiven by learning to heal with our hearts wide open.”

He opened his heart to you, and you accepted his love and gave it back tenfold. You took as much of his pain away as you could and made his days brighter. He was still learning how to be forgiven, but you helped him get better every day.

And both of you were going to be okay.

Oh, he deserves a hug and more. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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