#I'm just going to sit in a corner and cry

[fakelaceyy]

⋆˙⟡ 𝙩𝙫 - 𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙚 𝙚𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝

summary - you had committed about a month ago, but chris can't move on. he found himself hallucinating and getting horrible sleep with the thought of how you could've possibly been feeling. he wishes he could've done more to help, but it's too late.

warnings - not proofread , angst , mentions of suicide and depression , crying , mentions of hallucinations and anxiety , venting , self blame

sparkle divider - @bernardsbendystraws

chris had been quiet for almost the entire month.

matt and nick tried to talk to him, but he was too numb to care about what they were asking him, or anything they were telling him.

he couldn't focus. not with the idea in his head that he should've done more for you. should've checked up on you more than he did. should've helped more.

he felt guilty, and nothing was helping. not company from his brothers, not the familiar, comforting scent of your clothes, nothing.

he'd been sitting on the living room couch for God knows how long, his eyes blurry as the tv played survivor in the background of his lingering thoughts.

he'd been paranoid for the past few weeks. over what?, he didn't know. he had no idea. he could've sworn he saw your figure lingering a few times in the hallway, in the corners of his room...but he couldn't do anything about it.

he wanted to talk to matt, to know more about his signs of anxiety, or possible depression..but he didn't know how. he felt weak whenever he even thought about mentioning it to anyone.

his friends had become distant, not calling or texting.

'they probably think i'm meaning to ignore them,' chris thought as he stared at his silent phone.

usually, his notification center would be full of texts or calls from you, the occasional video sent on tiktok or instagram. but there was nothing. and that made the pang in his chest hurt even more.

days had blurred into weeks, and he could barely read the time anymore. he assumed the hour by the light coming through the windows. he felt a little at ease when there was sun outside, but then the moon rose..he found himself feeling more empty than ever.

nights like those would usually mean watching a movie with you, or just talking until you dozed off.

on a random thursday, when nick would usually want to film, he sat next to him on the couch instead, not saying a word for a moment.

nick let out a small sigh before he attempted speaking to him.

"if you wanna take a break from filming for a while, it's fine.." he mentioned quietly, "you're going through a lot, chris. you need a break."

chris already felt the tears filling up his waterline. as a cold, salty tear dripped down from his cheek, he breathed in through his nose.

"i'm sorry.." he mumbled quietly, not completely sure of what else to say, "it's my job, i should be able to continue.." he murmured, leaning back against the couch, "i-it's just, i don't--"

nick cut him off, "but you should also be able to take a break." he said bluntly, "we don't need to continue immediately. you're grown, you can make your own decisions."

"i miss her, nick," chris choked a sob, unable to hold it back anymore.

"i know. we do too." he mumbled softly, his light blue eyes looking over to chris.

"i don't know what to do.." chris confessed, "i feel helpless..and..i-i can't help but think it's my fault, i should've done more.." he muttered, his voice shaky.

matt, who had just entered the kitchen looked over at the two as chris mentioned he felt like it was his fault. his brows furrowed as he slowly closed the fridge.

"chris, if she needed more of your help, she would've said something." matt stated quietly as he grabbed a small snack from the pantry.

"but, matt, she obviously needed help, and if she didn't feel comfortable enough to talk to me then it's obvio--" chris stammered out,

"enough, chris," matt demanded, walking over to the couch and tossing a bag of chips to chris, "you haven't eaten," he muttered, "and you need to understand that you're not the problem here."

chris wiped his teary eyes, sniffling quietly.

"it's just gonna take me a while, okay?.." he mumbled, "we had so many things planned, and..now she's gone..just like that.."

matt and nick sat there in silence, telling him he could continue if he wanted to. but chris kept quiet after that. he felt weak, crying like that in front of them. but at the same time, he felt more comforted than he had all month. all the time without you.

he felt helpless. angry, even. but he couldn't be mad at you. only at himself.

a/n: this took me soso long to write bc i needed to gather my fricking emotions . anyway.

[notbleachtea]

i'm yours

summary: tired of keeping your relationship hidden, you try to make law jealous, only to have it blow up in your face

word count: 7.3k

warnings: mild smut, oral f receiving, threats of s/a, drinking, violence

notes: ive been sitting on this one for awhile and everytime i think im ready to post it i end up adding another page to it, its time she sees the light of day. story is based off of the following song.

more notes: ignore any grammar mistakes okay plz and ty (ik as soon as i post this im going to find a mistake -.-)

another night of sneaking into law’s room after everyone had gone to bed, and heading back to yours before anyone wakes up. you knew going into this that law was a private person, but you didn't think he would still be this cold to you outside the walls of his bedroom. it was eating you up inside, you told yourself after you left his room every night that you wouldn't go back to him until you established what you two were, but you always ended up giving in, you were so desperate for his touch you couldn't stand to put yourself in the way of what you desired the most.

your thoughts are suddenly interrupted when law starts kissing you on your neck. it's a pleasant distraction. going along with it means you can pretend everything is fine for just a little bit longer.

you were lying next to him in his bed, dragging your fingers up and down the ink on his chest, desperately trying to build the courage to ask him for what you wanted before you had to return to your room.

“law, what are we?”

he stilled under your fingers, “what do you mean what are we? i'm your captain, and you're one of my crew.”

clearly not the answer you wanted, you immediately stop tracing his tattoos and look up at him, “and nothing more?”

law lets out a long sigh, picking up on what you are trying to hint at, “y/n-ya, it's just not a good idea, what we have between us, i think is safer kept here inside this room.”

hurt clearly displayed on your face, you flinched, every word cutting sharper than the last. safer. kept here. like you were a secret he didn’t want the world to see. “i need something more, law.” 

“i just can’t. i’m working towards something right now and i can’t afford any distractions -”

“distractions? that's what I am to you? i was unaware…” you say as you start getting out of bed, searching for your clothes to put back on. “if that is the case, i should really get out of your hair.”

“that's not what i -”

but you're already walking out the door, tears fighting to drop from the corners of your eyes, “goodnight law.”

you didn’t give him a chance to answer. you slammed the door behind you, the sound echoing down the hall, and barely made it three steps before tears blurred your vision.

you run back to the room you share with ikkaku as quietly as you can with tears in your eyes, praying it's a bad dream and that all of this will go away in the morning. you open the door to your room and immediately stub your toe and fall over, waking up ikkaku to your cries of pain.

“y/n?” ikkaku stirred in her bunk, voice laced with sleep. “what are you doing out of bed so late, and why do you look like you are crying?”

you just look back at her in silence clutching yourself, not sure what to say yet.

she scans over your body trying to process what's happening after waking up, your red swollen eyes looking back at hers, she looks down and notices you're wearing a shirt that's too big for you and looks familiar, but it's nothing she's seen on you before. then she notices the wadded ball of clothing in your fist, your underwear. it's all coming together.

she blinked.

“y/n you did not. did you?”

you just look at her and silently nod your head while another wave of tears starts to fall from your eyes. ikkaku rushes over to comfort you, pulling you into a hug.

“oh y/n, you poor thing. let's clean up your face and get in bed, give me all the details!”

you get into the bed while ikkaku goes to get a washcloth to wipe away your tears and clean your face.

ikkaku gets under the covers next to you, dabbing off your tears. “okay, so just to confirm, whose room were you just in.”

“...laws.”

“i knew it. how long has this been going on?”

“…months.”

“months?? so does that mean you're -”

you burst into tears again, your voice barely a whisper.

“ah, i see where this is going.” ikkaku hugs you a little tighter. “let it all out, and then tell me what just happened so we can figure it all out.”

you give ikkaku the rundown on what your night with law entailed, the sneaking, the touching, the heartbreak, everything.

“sounds to me like he's been enjoying the benefits of a relationship with you without having to have the actual relationship, which isn't fair to you at all. i'm so sorry y/n.”

“i'm just so confused. i thought he also wanted more. i didn't tell him this, but after we ya know, did it, the other night i started falling asleep like i normally do, and i guess he thought i did fall asleep or something, and i heard him say it. i heard him say he loved me under his breath in secret.

ikkaku’s eyes widened. “he said it?”

 you nodded. “i thought if i reflected those same feelings today that he'd reciprocate them.”

“no man is immune from being stupid y/n, even captain.” ikkaku's statement is enough to get a light laugh out of you. “don't worry, we'll figure out a way to put this all back together, let's get some sleep now and tackle this with a fresh mind tomorrow.”

you agree by giving a slight nod and adjust yourself to go to sleep.

“thanks, i really appreciate it.”

the next morning you go down to the kitchen for breakfast and run into law as he's grabbing a quick bite to go. he looks at you but doesn't say anything, and just walks past you without a word..

“woah that was weird, " says bepo, "usually he goes out of his way to chat with you at breakfast y/n. is everything okay?”

you let out a sheepish laugh forcing a smile, “yeah everything is normal, don't be so silly,” you say, trying more so to convince yourself than bepo.

“oh good! well, anyways, i wanted to ask you if you were gonna go out with us this weekend? were getting to dock again and captain said the next island we docked at we were allowed to go out for a night.”

ikkaku jumps in before you get a chance to respond, “she's in!”

“ikkaku!” you look back at her with a glare, not really feeling up to going out.

“relax! i think this is exactly what you need. count us in bepo!”

“awesome! i'll tell the others!”

bepo runs out of the room with glee as the going out group continues to grow.

you turn back to chastise ikkaku, “what was that for?”

“duh, we're going to dress you up to look extra hot, and then send you off into a room full of men with drinks. there's no way captain is going to allow that to happen.”

you roll your eyes with little faith, “thats never going to work ikkaku.”

a few days go by and the weekend finally arrives, with the ship freshly docked and a rare instance of no tasks needing to be done, you and ikkaku take this opportunity to go out into the town to go shopping for new clothes. the main mission: find a super hot dress to wear tonight.

she smiles at you, “just trust me y/n.”

you and ikkaku arrive in town, stopping into the first little boutique you stumble upon.

“so y/n, what do you think will make him go wild?”

“i don't think this plan is going to work at all, that's what i think,” you quip back at her.

she makes a good point, you think to yourself.

“y/n, he's a man, they all get jealous.”

“law doesnt get jealous.”

“you sure? because last i remember you telling me, he's been having you all to himself in private, there hasn't been a moment yet for him to even possibly get jealous because it's all been on his terms.”

“uhg fine,” you reluctantly cry out, “we’ll give it a shot.”

“i'm thinking a short dress and some tall boots?” ikkaku suggests.

“i have the perfect pair of boots back on the ship, tall, up to the knee and black, big chunky heel, i know he likes those,” you bashfully relay, “let's go look at the dresses though.”

you're combing through the racks before coming up on what you think to be the one. it's short and black, with a few yellow speckles that dot the left hip of the garment, similar to the patterns on law's jacket. you hold it up to ikkaku to get her opinion.

“oh. my. god. that's it, that's the one!”

“hm, well, i’ll be honest, i didn’t think we'd have success like this so fast, but i can't be mad about getting this over with so quickly.”

the two of you head back to the ship with your shopping bags, suddenly halted by a blunt energy as you board.

“oh hush, now we just have more time to do hair and make up,” ikkaku laughs.

“and what were you two up to?” a deep voice calls out inquisitively.

“oh hi -ya captain, me and y/n just did some shopping, wanted to get a new dress before we went out drinking tonight, you know how us girls are haha,” ikkaku blurts out, setting the trap.

you give ikkaku an elbow to the side and a “wtf” glare, all while avoiding eye contact with law. 

he narrows his eyes, studying you for a moment before speaking, “curious,” he muttered, “carry on.”

that night, everyone gathers in the main rec room before heading out, making sure everybody is ready and has all their things. last you recall, everyone except for law said they were going out, so you're still not really sure how ikkaku's plan is supposed to work.

“y/n. holy shit, is that you? you look HOT.”

when you stepped into the rec room, the reaction was instant.

“wow y/n, you really went all out, penguins right!” shachi added.

“that's enough,” law’s voice cuts in sharp.

“captain!” the group gasps in unison. ikkaku is already sending a slight smirk in your direction.

bepo runs up to law in excitement, “i thought you weren't coming out tonight captain?”

“i had a change of heart it appears,” he says while glancing in your direction, and you quickly look away.

your pulse throbbed. he was definitely watching.

“the more the merrier! let's go!” bepo ushers the gang towards the door.

you all get to the bar and decide to split up into groups. law goes and sits at a table with bepo, shachi, and penguin.

“y/n, ikkaku, you guys don't want to join us?” penguin asks.

“nah, me and y/n are gonna see how many free drinks we can get from all these suckers here, i’d say we’ve got a pretty solid chance to beat our record with these new outfits we’ve bought.”

and with that, you and ikkaku go off to find your own table and talk for a little bit while the boys get some drinks and chat.

you and ikkaku order a drink.

“so y/n i'd say this is already going better than expected. law’s already actually more jealous than i thought, but then again he is a pirate, and they don't tend to like sharing treasure.”

“gee thanks, i'm glad i'm a pirate's treasure in your little game,” you laugh, rolling your eyes playfully.

“oh hush,” ikkaku chuckles, “you know what i'm meaning haha, besides, did you see how quickly he shut them down about your outfit back on the ship? and how quick he agreed to even come out tonight? he’s on your hook y/n, you just gotta reel him in!”

“got it, i’m a pirate's treasure, and law is a fish, what else am i missing?”

“quit being a butt head,” she says while playfully pushing your arm.

“excuse me ladies, here’s those drinks for you,” the server says while setting them on your table, “and here’s some shots from those gentle men over there,” they say while pointing towards the opposite side of the bar.

“thank you!” you both say to the server.

“score, that's already one free drink and we just got here! you think he noticed?” ikkaku asks.

“i can practically feel daggers digging into me as we speak,” you laugh, taking the shot down in one go, “here's to the night!” you say as you raise the empty glass to ikkaku, followed by nodding and smiling at the men who sent you the shot as a thank you.

“hey, i know,” says ikkaku, “let's go head out on the dance floor?”

after your next round, you and ikkaku head out on the floor to let loose. seeing the two of you slightly tipsy and looking to dance, the two men that previously bought you a drink take this as a chance to jump in and start heading your way.

“dancing huh, i’m gonna need another round of shots for that haha.”

“i can arrange that!”

“ikkaku, look, to your left. should we dip?”

“no! this is exactly what we want. don’t look now, but law is giving them the death stare. honestly, there's a good chance he actually does kill them tonight.”

“ladies, mind if we join you?”

“be our guest,” ikkaku smiles, “but i expect another drink first.”

“of course, it'd be our pleasure.”

the four of you took another shot on the dance floor.

“so what brings you ladies out here tonight?” the man dancing with you asks.

“oh not much, just had a chance to get out ya know?”

“yeah, we're just passing through town for the night and looking for a good time,” ikkaku adds.

you shoot her another “wtf did you say that for look” before going back to dancing with one of the two men.”

“well, you're just in luck,” says the man dancing with ikkaku, “i think we're here for the same thing,” he says with a smug grin.”

as the music plays, law can't help but stare. he's completely oblivious to anything else that is going on around him. everything the boys have been saying to him goes into one ear and right out the other. he’s sitting there, seething with rage. he can't stand watching the way your body is moving so closely to another man’s. how everytime you move your hips, your dress is fighting to keep covering your ass. the way this stranger moves his hands up and down your arms and resting them on your hips.

“oh my god i love this song!” you say, as one of you and bepo’s favorite uta songs comes on.

“yeah? lets get another shot to celebrate then,” the man you're dancing with suggests, knowing full well you’re getting pretty tipsy at this point, with full intentions of taking you back to his room tonight whether you want to or not.

back at law’s table, the gang has just been chatting about nonsense and consuming drink after drink, even convincing law to keep up with them. suddenly they notice a shot appear in front of law.

with all the recently consumed alcohol increasing your naivety, you gladly accept another shot. before you can even down it, it disappears from your hands.

“woah, where'd you get that from captain?” shachi asks.

“don’t worry about it.”

“well, fine, don’t let it just sit there then, take it!”

the crew around the table start chanting law’s name, using peer pressure to get their captain to take a shot for them. not wanting to admit where it came from or have anyone ask questions as to why he “ordered” a shot with no intention to take it, he decides downing it is indeed the best option.

“let's go! i don’t think i’ve seen you this intoxicated in years, captain, penguin said, “it’s nice to see you cut loose every once in a while.”

while this is going on and you notice your first shot went missing, being as inebriated as you were, you simply chalked it up to maybe you just dropped it.

“don’t worry baby, accidents happen, let me get you another one.”

a new shot is brought out to you, as you go to place it on your lips, it suddenly disappears again.

“y/n, look behind you,” ikkaku warns you, “so much for ‘not the jealous type’,” she smugly says under her breath with a grin.

“hey, what the hell is that guy's problem?” the man dancing with you lets out.

you turn around to see law holding the exact glass that was just on your lips, lipstick stain and all. the gang at the table is all cheering as he's looking right at you and downing it in one gulp with a smirk, eyes locked on yours like he’s daring you to do something about it.

“that’s a good question.”

you storm off from the dance floor and walk right up to law. the liquid courage in you fueling your anger with him.

“what the hell is your problem, captain.”

to go from suggestively dancing with another man and then refusing to use his name only angered law even more. yes, you’re not supposed to address him as law in front of the rest of the crew, but with the pointed tone you used, he knew you were also using it as a way to get under his skin.

“y/n-ya, you're drunk. i think you’ve had enough to drink.”

“you don't get to act like you care about me now.”

law’s mouth tightened, but he said nothing.

ikkaku quickly runs up to the table to do some damage control, leaving the other two men on the dance floor alone.

“hey guys! how about we all play a game around the table or something?” she nervously squeaks. she uses her eyes to jester to you to sit the fuck down and play it cool.

“OO yes! i’ve been dying to play a game!” bepo squeaks. he’s always reliable to try and help keep the mood positive, whether he's in on the reason or not.

before anyone could say another peep, a loud announcement cuts through the atmosphere, “alright ladies and gentlemen! it's that time of the night that we open up the mic for karaoke! anyone's welcome and any song is acceptable!” the dj calls out over the mic.

“hey, i’m gonna go grab us a round of water, i’ll be right back, go ahead and start a game without me,” ikkaku says.

and just like that, shachi pulls out a deck of cards and starts dealing them out while ikkaku sneaks off to the bar to grab some water.

as ikkaku is walking back towards the table another announcement is made, “alright everyone, first up on the mic is y/n!”

your face goes blank and then panic sets in as your eyes widen.

“ooo whaddya pick!?” the gang asks you, surprised your name was called.

“i don’t know, because i didn’t sign up for this…” you say, gritting your teeth and looking angrily at ikkaku.

“aw c'mon y/n, don’t be shy now, i hear you sing in the shower all the time, you’re actually really good. you can sing whatever song you want, you don’t tell them until you walk up there.”

fueled by anger and alcohol, you stand up and start heading towards the stage. after talking to the dj for a minute, you get your track picked out. 

the lights dim as the backing track begins to play, slow, sweet and aching, you grab the mic, your eyes locking with law’s, his stare burning holes into you.

I know that you love me

Darlin', you don't have to say it

law immediately gets red in the face, no one noticing yet but ikkaku.

You know you can trust me

It's okay, it's complicated

Nervous, trip over my words

You're so pretty it hurts

you point directly at law with your free hand.

Baby, I'm yours

Baby, I'm yours

Baby, I'm yours

now clasping that same hand over your heart,

I need something more

I pray to the Lord

finger back to pointing at law,

But, baby, I'm yours

you sang with everything, pain, want, heartbreak.

Is it too late to see you?

I love the view of your headlights

Wanna get to know you (know you)

Park outside my house for the night

Nervous, trip over my words

You're so pretty it hurts

Baby, I'm yours

Baby, I'm yours

Baby, I'm yours

I need something more

I pray to the Lord

But, baby, I'm yours

“i wonder who this song is about,” bepo murmurs.

“you really can't tell??” ikkaku questions him.

bepo finally connects the intense stares that you are giving to law, and that he is very much reciprocating on, his jaw dropped as he sat there in silence for a moment.

We're getting closer

Inches away

Lose composure

Favorite mistake

Friendship's over

Won't be the same

Baby, I'm yours

Baby, I'm yours

Baby, I'm yours

I need something more

I pray to the Lord

But, baby, I'm yours

after the last note, you just hang your head down to catch your breath and compose yourself. before you pick your head back up, you hear the whole bar starting to cheer. the only reaction that you care about is law’s. you look over to him and your heart sinks. he’s standing there, back tuned to the stage. what you didn’t know was that he was trying to hide the red on his cheeks for being called out like that, not yet ready to be pestered by the crew. taking it as a sign of rejection, you head straight for the exit and run out the door.

you take a moment to breathe in the alley next to the bar before figuring out your next move, the cool night air barely soothing the heat burning in your chest. going back inside is obviously not an option, suddenly your thoughts are interrupted by some heavily slurred speech.

“hey baby, where do ya think you're going?” 

you stiffened. it was the man from the bar that kept buying you shots. he stumbled towards you, accompanied by the man that was dancing with ikkaku. both of them reeked of booze and bad intentions. clearly not in the mental state to deal with them right now you figured the best response was just to ignore him and turned away.

“hey, bitch, i’m talking to you, fucking answer me back when i speak, whore.”

he’s starting to close in on you while you begin to panic. your legs refused to move. every instinct screamed at you to run, but the liquor dulled your reflexes, leaving you rooted, vulnerable, afraid. before you can even blink, he's got you pinned against the wall, his weight boxing you in.

“you didn't think i bought you all those drinks out of the goodness of my heart, did you?” his breath was hot and rancid against your face. “you gotta pay me back for all that,” he says as a creepy smirk grew on his face, “and I’m not really looking for money if you catch my drift,” he says with a devious laugh.

“yeah, and you have to pay for your bitch friend too for stiffing me,” his friend adds behind him.

you shook your head, tears stinging, vision blurring. this wasn’t happening. you’d just wanted to get law’s attention, not this.

“haha, look at this slut, she’s fucking crying like she thinks that’s gonna get her out of this.” he leaned in closer, voice dripping with malice. “go ahead, cry all you want. just don’t let those tears get in the way when you’re on your knees.”

you squeezed your eyes shut, mouth trembling.

“hey! get your hands off of her.”

you know that voice all too well, that cold, sharp edged voice that made your heart ache, even now, but you're too ashamed of the position you've put yourself in to meet his eyes.

the man holding you laughed, glancing over his shoulder. “oh look, we have a pretty boy here thinking he can save this broad. forget it man, she's a little busy right now.”

He finishes his statement turning back to you, attempting to push you back down again while you're trying your best to fight back, the shame, embarrassment and alcohol making it a difficult task.

“law, i’m sorry,” you whisper out between tears.

law charges at the man holding you down, but the second man lunged at him to intercept. a fatal mistake. 

“shambles.”

without hesitation and a flash of blue, the man screamed, clutching his chest in horror as law held his heart in one hand, still pulsing, still warm. he dropped it to the ground with a splat, stepping over him like trash. the man immediately freezes in immense pain mixed with the shock of seeing his own heart in front of him. law’s burning razor sharp gaze meets the man holding you down, he finds law's eyes, the same terrified look his friend previously displayed shown on his face.

“i said…” law’s voice dropped, lethal and cold, “get your fucking hands off of her.”

the man instantly lifts his hands from your shoulders stuttering in response to law's statement.

“i-i- i wasn’t gonna- “

“you what? law growled, enclosing in on him, weren’t going to hurt her? violate her?”

before he even had a chance to lie, law moved forward to strike the man, cutting out his heart as well, making sure to squeeze it hard.

“AH-” the man gasped, his body seizing up. the man collapsed, gasping, as law squeezed the organ just enough to make him writhe.

“shut up, trash. next time don’t touch my fucking girl.”

the man whimpered, barely conscious.

law knelt by you, his cold hands gently brushing your arms. you were shaking, sobbing, your eyes still fixed on the ground.

“i’ve got you, y/n-ya,” he murmured, his voice softer now, tinged with regret. “i’m here.”

you whispered through your sobs, “i’m sorry.”

his arms wrapped around you, holding you flush against him, his chin resting in your hair. “no,” he whispered back. “i’m the one who’s sorry.”

you can almost make out the pain in his voice.

“captain! y/n!”

you both turned to see the crew rushing down the alley. bepo, shachi, penguin, and ikkaku leading the pack, eyes wide at the carnage.

“what the hell happened here?” shachi questioned, eyeing the groaning men on the ground.

“don’t worry about it,” law snapped, still cradling you. “Bepo, take y/n back to the ship. everyone else, follow. i think it’s time we leave.”

bepo’s eyes widened, his voice anxious. “but captain… what about you?”

law’s gaze turns back to the barely-breathing men on the alley floor. his voice was steel.

“i’m not done here yet.”

bepo hesitated, then carefully scooped you into his arms. you didn’t fight it, exhaustion and humiliation weighing you down.

“yes, captain.”

no one argued. one look at law’s face told them it wasn’t a suggestion.

bepo carried you away, your tear-streaked face buried in his fur, as you heard the echo of law’s voice fade behind you. low, cold, and promising retribution.

not sure of what happened in their absence, no one dared to say a word to you on the walk back. you clung to bepo’s neck, your ruined makeup staining his soft fur.

you sniffled, your voice barely above a whisper.

“thank you, bepo... i’m sorry for all this. i’ll explain later, i swear.”

bepo’s ears twitched. “i'm just glad you're okay y/n. we were all really worried about you once you ran out of there. he looked down at you with teary eyes. please don't cry anymore! if you keep crying, then i'm gonna start crying!”

bepo’s overdramatic concern put a light smile on your face. you're safe now.

by the time you all arrive back to the ship, law is already there waiting for you. his coat hung loosely from his shoulders, his eyes dark and unreadable, but the tension in his jaw told you everything.

“y/n-ya,” he said firmly, “come with me.”

and just like that, bepo sets you down gently and you follow.

law didn’t say a word as he led you to his room, the door clicking shut behind you. he stood by the bed, but didn’t face you.

“we need to talk about what just happened.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat. “which part? the part where i embarrassed myself? the part where i almost…” you shook your head, “or the part where i made you look like a fool?”

“all of it,” he snapped, voice low but sharp.. 

you breathed in deep, hugging your own arms. “i'm sorry law, i didn't mean for any of this to happen. i was so stupid. i shouldn't have agreed to go out, i shouldn't have drank that much, i shouldn't have talked to those random losers and i-”

“no.” his voice cut through your apology like a blade.

you paused mid sentence, confused. his back was still to you.

“i'm sorry, y/n-ya.”

you blinked, stunned into silence. law apologizing wasn’t just rare, it was unheard of.

“y/n-ya,” his voice cracked just slightly, “i didn’t realize how serious we were. i mean, i did, but i didn’t want to admit it, not to myself, not to you. i tried to keep it locked behind these walls. just something private. contained. like that would make it safer.”

he finally turned to face you, eyes heavy with regret. “but tonight, watching them touch you, hearing you cry out, i realized something.”

you didn’t breathe. just waited.

“if i ever lost you…” his voice dropped into a strained whisper. “if they’d done anything worse, if i’d been too late…”

you take a moment to process what he just said to you. your eyes burned again, fresh tears pooling. “law…”

“i’ve already lost too much in my life. too many people i’ve cared about. if i lost you too-” he shook his head, fists clenched at his sides, “i’d break. and i don’t know if i’d come back from that.”

you stepped forward, slowly, until you were close enough to touch him. “you’re not going to lose me.”

his gaze flicked up to meet yours, guarded, afraid, even now.

“i’m here, law,” you whispered. “i’m not afraid of what comes with being with you. i want to see your dreams come true. i want to stand beside you through all of it.”

gently, you reached up, resting your hands on his shoulders. “but i need you to let me in. all the way.”

law stared at you for a long moment, like he was trying to memorize the way you looked right now, alive, warm, safe.

and then he grabbed you, arms tight around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. his hold was desperate, like he was trying to convince himself you were really here.

you chuckled quietly against him.

“what's so funny?” he mumbled into your hair.

“hm? oh nothing, you're just… a lot sweeter when you've been drinking.”

his face dead pans at you as he leans back to see your face.

“yeah? and you're a lot dumber.”

“hey!” you wanted to protest, but he makes a valid point so you playfully swat at his chest.

you both stood there, wrapped up in each other, the weight of the night still between you but easier now.

“law?” you ask.

you let him pull you down with him, the exhaustion of the night catching up to your bones.

“hm?”

what do we do about the rest of the crew? what do we tell them?”

he sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “we’ll figure that out tomorrow. for now…” he guided you gently toward the bed, “...you’re not going anywhere.” 

he didn’t let you out of his grasp once your body hit the bed. his hands framed your face, his breath shaky but his gaze blazing with something raw, unfiltered, something you hadn’t seen in him until tonight.

“do you have any idea,” he muttered, “how close i was to losing my mind watching you out there tonight? letting some bastard think he could have you?”

“i didn’t mean to-”

his mouth crashed into yours before you could finish. the kiss was furious, his frustration and longing bleeding into every movement. when he broke away, his voice was a harsh whisper against your lips.

“say it. right now. tell me who you belong to.”

you shivered beneath the weight of his demand, his eyes drilling straight through you. your lips parted, breath shaky.

“i’m yours.”

“again.”

you barely got the words out before his mouth was back on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

“i’m yours,” you gasped, your back arching as his hands slid down your sides, tracing every curve like he was mapping it to memory.

“louder,” he growled against your throat. “i want the whole ship to fucking know.”

“i’m yours, law,” you moaned, his name a plea and a promise all at once.

“don’t forget it,” he breathed, his body pressing into yours, his hands everywhere, exploring, claiming, worshipping. 

your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more. more of his heat, his weight, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

“i’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, your lips brushing his ear. “i’m yours. i’ll always be yours.”

he groaned low, the sound vibrating against your skin, and then his mouth was on yours again, slower this time. deeper. like he was trying to pour every word he couldn’t say into you with every kiss.

“you better mean that,” he said, voice rough with need. “because if I ever lost you, y/n-ya…”

he trailed off, burying his face in your neck, his grip on you tightening.

“it’d destroy me.”

you cupped his face, pulling him up to meet your eyes. then don’t let me go.”

law’s mouth trailed kisses down your neck, slow and burning, his breath hot against your skin. his hands splayed across your hips like he was grounding himself. like the thought of letting go for even a second would cost him everything.

you shivered.

his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart with possessive purpose, his dark eyes fixed on you. “you’re mine,” he said again, voice thick with reverence. “and i’m going to make sure you feel it.”

he pushed up your dress and kissed down your stomach, slow and steady, eyes never leaving yours, watching every hitch in your breath, every tremble.

you whimpered, breath shallow as his mouth ghosted over your skin, lips barely brushing where you needed him most. he was savoring you, tasting, teasing, driving you mad with anticipation.

“say it again,” he whispered against your heat, his voice vibrating straight through you. “say you’re mine.”

“i’m yours,” you gasped, fingers tangling in his hair.

satisfied, he finally pressed his mouth to your cunt, slow, deliberate, like he was memorizing every sound he pulled from your lips. the world narrowed to his mouth, the firm grip of his hands and your hips, the relentless way he built you up with his tongue, only to drag you higher still.

every moan, every pleading whimper you gave only spurred him on, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. dark, hungry, and full of something deeper than lust.

“don’t hold back on me, y/n-ya,” he rasped. “i want to hear how good i make you feel.”

“ah fuck-” and before you could process what he said, law had slipped two fingers into you, groaning over the sensation of your core squeezing around them. you can feel him moan into your clit at the satisfaction as you toss your head back in pleasure.

law coo’s you on as he continues to claim what's his. “fuck y/n-ya,” you let out a trail of moans as he gives a harsh suck between each word, “come for me please, and only for me,” he works at you for a moment longer, coming up for air again, “i love you.”

one more thrust from his skilled fingers and you finally came undone, crying out his name like a prayer. he didn’t stop, he held you through every wave, every shudder, his mouth never leaving you until you were spent and trembling beneath him.

only then did he rise back up, his lips slick, his eyes burning with satisfaction. he hovered over you, brushing the hair from your face with surprising tenderness.

“now,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth, “there won’t be a single doubt in your mind about who you belong to.”

you smiled weakly, still catching your breath. “i was never confused, captain.”

his smirk was dangerous, but his eyes were soft. “good.”

law remained between your thighs for a moment longer, watching you catch your breath with a faint, satisfied smile tugging at his lips. he kissed along your inner thigh tenderly, his hands smoothing up your sides, coaxing your shivers into sighs.

eventually, he shifted up the bed, his arms wrapping securely around your waist as he settled beside you. his chest pressed against your back, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding you.

you smiled faintly, your eyes heavy lidded, fatigue creeping in just as hard as the bliss still simmering under your skin.

“don’t fall asleep yet,” you mumbled lazily, your voice slurred with exhaustion.

“too late,” he muttered back, his lips brushing against your ear. “you wore me out.”

you chuckled weakly, shifting in his hold until you faced him. His eyes were already half closed, but his gaze found yours, soft and heavy lidded.

“stay here,” he murmured. “right here. with me.”

you brushed his hair back gently, your touch featherlight. “i’m not going anywhere.”

that seemed to satisfy him. he pulled you closer, tucking your head under his chin. sleep overtook you both, pulling you into a heavy, dreamless slumber wrapped up in each other.

you woke up in law’s bed tangled in his sheets, the warmth of his body still wrapped around you. his arm was draped heavy across your waist, his breathing deep and even. a rare, peaceful sight. you smiled to yourself, but your throat was dry and parched from everything earlier.

you moved carefully, slowly peeling his arm off you so you wouldn’t wake him. law barely stirred, murmuring something inaudible under his breath, his brow twitching like he already missed your presence. you hesitated, watching his face soften again, and pressed a light kiss to his temple before sliding out of bed.

you scanned the room for something to wear, shivering from the cool air hitting your bare body. there was no way you were squeezing back into the little black dress. law’s hoodie was draped over the back of his chair, and you figured he wouldn’t mind. it was huge on you, reaching just to your thighs, and smelled like him. sea salt, steel, and a hint of smoke.

convinced everyone else was asleep, you padded out of his room quietly, sleeves swallowing your hands. the ship was still, lights dimmed, and you tiptoed into the cafeteria, expecting no one.

you were wrong.

the entire crew, bepo, shachi, penguin, and ikkaku to name a few, were all awkwardly sprawled across tables, half-asleep but very much present. the moment you stepped inside, all heads snapped up in varying degrees of grogginess and disbelief.

bepo’s ears twitched as he rubbed his eyes. “y/n! you’re okay!” he exclaimed, then squinted at you. “wait, where did your clothes go?”

shachi and penguin blinked at each other, then pointed simultaneously, voices raised in pure shock. “you’re in the captain’s hoodie?!”

you froze, wide-eyed like a deer caught in headlights, clutching the hem of the hoodie down your thighs. your face was burning.

ikkaku only grinned wide, eyes alight with excitement. “tell me everything.”

bepo’s voice cut in eagerly, “no fair! i wanna know too!”

you were about to stammer out some pathetic excuse when heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. slow, deliberate. the commotion must’ve woken law.

in his room, law stirred groggily, reaching for you instinctively. when his hand met empty sheets, his eyes shot open. it took him a moment to shake off the fog, but then he heard the familiar din of voices echoing from the cafeteria. that must be where you are.

he tugged on his jeans and proceeded to look for his hoodie. a few moments go by, but then he noticed your dress still crumpled on the floor. his eyes narrowed, piecing it together.

“...she took my damn hoodie,” he muttered to himself, realizing now that the crew has definitely noticed. 

he drug a hand down his face with an exhausted sigh, foregoing the hoodie you’d stolen, and trudged down the hallway, resigned to the inevitable.

as the crew’s barrage of questions hit a fever pitch, law finally appeared in the doorway. every mouth shut instantly.

law’s hair was tousled, his torso bare save for the scatter of tattoos, and his usual sharp gaze was softened by the lingering sleep still in his eyes. yet his voice was deadpan as ever:

“ah. so that’s where my hoodie ended up.”

you audibly whimpered, yanking the hood up over your head to hide your face.

“i’m sorry, law, i just wanted some water…”

he waved you off mid apology. “it’s fine. honestly, this is as good a time as any.”

at that, the crew sat up straighter, barely containing their curiosity. law crossed his arms and surveyed them with the same commanding air he used in battle.

“everyone, listen up,” he ordered, his voice cutting through the tension. “there’s no point in hiding it anymore. y/n-ya and i have been involved for a while.”

bepo’s ears shot up.

“you could’ve told us sooner, captain!” penguin whined.

law ignored them, his tone steely. “it wasn’t supposed to go this far without...clarity. but my stubbornness got in the way.”

you stepped forward, clutching the hoodie tighter. “it wasn’t just him. i pushed things too far tonight trying to get a reaction... and it backfired.” you swallowed, glancing at the floor. “i shouldn’t have played games with him. i wasn’t thinking.”

law’s gaze flicked to you, unreadable, before he addressed the crew again. “regardless, what happened tonight was on me. she ended up in a dangerous situation because of it, and i made sure the bastards who touched her won’t bother anyone again.”

a dark, definitive statement that left no room for elaboration. no one dared ask.

“going forward,” law continued, “we’re together. and whatever you all just witnessed tonight? stays on this ship. infact, no one is to know about this unless they are on this crew. am i clear?”

the crew snapped to attention, saluting as one.

“yes, captain!”

his gaze lingered on them just long enough to ensure the message sank in, then shifted to you, still half hiding in his hoodie.

“now,” he said with a tired sigh, “everyone get some damn sleep. that’s an order.”

they all started to shuffle off, casting backward glances at you with varying degrees of amusement and curiosity. ikkaku gave you a knowing wink on her way out, while bepo waved gently, whispering, “i’m really glad you’re okay.”

once the room emptied, law turned to you fully, expression softening.

“you. come with me.”

you followed without protest. he didn’t say a word until you were both back in his room. then, just before shutting the door behind you, he murmured,

“next time you sneak out of my bed... expect me to follow.”

you couldn’t help but smile as he pulled you back in, hoodie and all, the warmth of his body reminding you that you weren’t sneaking anywhere else tonight.

[thatblackstarinleo]

Hi, hello 🩵

I'm back from the US!! Finally home, jet lagged out of my mind (I slept three hours last night, then woke up at 5 a.m. like a crazy person), and somehow going back to work tomorrow even though it feels like my brain is still in Boston. It was such a good trip, and so special, and I already miss it. Massachusetts has me in a chokehold—Cape Cod was beautiful, the air smelled like summer, and I swear to god, girl!will lives there. I've been thinking about her nonstop, I've written a few snippets that I might post this week if I find the time

As for just like heaven... I don't know exactly when Chapter 14 will go up (probably next weekend), but things are happening. Like, really happening. I can't believe we've made it here. This chapter is one I've planned for months, and I know exactly where everything is going now, which means... there will be fluff. There will be feelings. There will be so much +18 content it's stupid. These two are crazy about each other and absolutely insatiable, and I'm just here, smiling at my laptop like a fool and also kind of wanting to cry. I love this story so much. I love them so much. And I love you all 😭

So! while I keep writing and try not to spiral into post-travel existential dread, here's a long snippet from chapter 14 🩵

"Shhh," Macklin whispers, lips brushing the slope of Will's nose. His hand is pressed over Will's mouth—warm and slightly damp from the heat of the bar, sweet-sour with lime, beer, and Macklin.

Will's back hits the hallway wall with a soft thud, the paneled wood cool against his sweat-damp shirt for half a second before Macklin's body presses in close again. The light overhead flickers, buzzes once, then goes out completely, leaving them in the soft, red glow of the EXIT sign. It casts long shadows down Macklin's face, bleeding across his cheekbones, catching the edge of his smile.

Will giggles.

He doesn't mean to. It bubbles up before he can stop it—loose and frizzy, two tequila sodas deep and high off the buzz sitting low in his chest. Macklin's breath is still hot against his cheek, quick and uneven, and Will's lips witch under his hand, caught somewhere between a laugh and a kiss.

"Will," Macklin hisses, not even trying to sound stern.

"What?" Will mumbles, lips brushing the heel of Macklin's palm.

"Stop laughing."

"M'not laughing."

"You are."

"M'not," Will insists, even as the corners of his mouth twitch again.

"Yes, you are, and—"

Will leans forward and kisses him.

It's messy. A little off-center. Macklin's mouth is warm and open, tasting like beer and too-sweet line, sweat dried into the corners of his lips. Will's teeth knock against his once, and they both laugh into it, a breathless, giddy sound that crackles between them like static.

Macklin sighs, soft and shaky, and presses closer like he's starving for it—like maybe he's been waiting all night for this, or maybe it's just how it always feels when they touch. His hand slides down from Will's mouth to cup his jaw, thumb grazing the corner where Will's smile still lingers, and kisses him again—slower now, deeper.

Will melts into it. He always does.

He slides a hand under Macklin's shirt, palm finding the soft heat of his stomach, then the dip of his waist, fingers splayed wide like he's trying to memorize the shape of him. He curls them there, anchoring himself in the way Macklin fits against him like they're pieces of something whole. His other hand trails up the back of Macklin's neck, carding through sweaty hair, holding him close.

Outside the hallway, the bar's still loud. It's a dive off Tremont, all exposed brick and sticky floors and neon beer signs that cast everyone in pink and blue. Will Vote said it's is brother's friend's spot, which means they got the back room, the discount, the privacy.

It's hot and and heady and way too crowded. The back of Will's knees are wet with sweat, his shirt is sticking to his spine, and Macklin's body is presses against his chest. It's perfect.

It's Gabe's birthday tonight.

Leno planned everything—rented out the room, brought too many Jell-O shots, handed out glittery hats no one wore, dragged Gabe into a group hug that ended in someone elbowing the cake. There was karaoke, terrible renditions of Bon Jovi and one hauntingly sincere Backstreet Boys performance. Will thinks he still has someone's fake mustache in his pocket. And there was dancing—too much, too lose, too close.

Will had danced with Macklin for what felt like forever.

It hadn't started that way—just a stupid remix of something from the early 2000s, Gabe tugging them both into the middle of the room with tequila still burning in his throat. But once they were there, Macklin hadn't let go. His arms wrapped around Will's neck, his mouth brushing close when he leaned in to laugh something only Will could hear. His body soft and loose against Will's, his pressed together like they weren't trying to hide anymore. Like maybe they'd stopped caring who saw.

Will hadn't cared either way.

He'd kept his hands low on Macklin's waist, thumbs slipping under the hem of his shirt. Macklin's skin had been warm, damp with sweat, and Will had held him tighter than he probably should've. Like no one else was even looking. Like it was the end of something and neither of them wanted to blink and miss it.

Because it kind of its.

The last round of overpriced tequila. The last time they'll all be here—this team, this version of their lives. The last stack of bar tabs Gabe would argue about while half the table disappeared outside for air. One more stolen basket of fries. One more night to be young and reckless and annoying together in the back of an Uber.

One more night where they can pretend none of it's about to change.

Will feels that tight in his chest now, like a string pulled tight behind his ribs. That spot where joy and dread get tangled up together. Where evert laugh feels a little too sharp around the edges.

Especially tonight.

Because in less than two hours, the NHL draft lottery airs. And if things don't go their way—if San Jose doesn't pull the first pick—then everything changes. Will hasn't looked at his phone. Hasn't checked the muted ESPN broadcast flashing above the bar. Hasn't let his eyes settle on the graphics, the graphics cycling through the draft odds.

The last time he looked up, Zeev was on-screen, smiling too wide, wearing a sharp suit, probably saying all the right things.

Pat hd wanted Macklin there too. So had Rick.

Said it would be smart. Said it mattered—how he looked, how he carried himself, what it meant for his brand. They'd argued on the phone for two hours until Macklin had finally silenced his phone and turned to Will, eyes puffy and red.

"I'm staying in Boston," he said. "With you."

Just like that, like it wasn't even a question.

And Will hadn't said anything back. He'd just nodded, swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat, and reached for Macklin's hand under the blanket.

Now, standing here with Macklin's breath hitting his cheek and the taste of lime still on both of their lips, Will knows people are watching the TV. Knows half the bar is checking their phones, refreshing their social media feeds and waiting for a leak or a hint. But he hasn't looked. Not once.

Because this—this moment—is still real. Still untouched. Macklin's arms around him, his forehead bumping against Will's temple, scent fairly sweet beneath the alcohol an sweat, and Will wants to bury his face in it.

He just wants to stay right here. A little longer.

In this soft, suspended week—this breath between what was and what comes next. After the Frozen Four. After the team banquet. After Davey's dumb smiley face tattoo. After the night Will, Gabe, and Leno fell asleep on the floor, curled into each other like they were kids again, surrounded by half-eaten Chipotle and the ghost of every dream they ever had.

Because this—tonight—feels like the real ending.

The last time they'll all be in one room before the world tilts.

Before they scatter.

Before everything starts.

Macklin makes a noise against his mouth—somewhere between a gasp and a laugh—and presses him harder into the wall, fingers threading into the front of Will's shirt, tugging until it's wrinkled in his fists.

"We're literally going to get caught," Macklin breathes, voice high and breathy, low with want.

Will noses along the curve of his jaw, lips grazing soft over flushed skin. "You're the one who dragged me here."

"I wasn't thinking, I—" Macklin whispers, even as his hips press closer, fitting them tight together in the shadows.

"You're drunk," Will says, smug, biting gently at the hinge of Macklin's jaw.

"So are you."

Macklin doesn't wait for Will to answer.

He just grabs his shirt again and tugs him toward the end of the hallway, toward the door cracked open at the hinge, and Will follows him without thinking, his hand already sliding back under Macklin's shirt, already pulling him close.

Because if this is the end of one thing and the start of whatever comes next—then Will wants this to be the part he remembers.

The sound of Macklin's laugh against his mouth. The taste of lime and mint and too much sweat. The soft noise he makes when Will presses in just right. The weight of Macklin’s body against his. The way Macklin's fingers never stop moving. The way Will feels when they’re touching, like he already knows what forever feels like.

[naturesgender]

okay so sometimes you just need to have a really big cry and then put your hands and face into the spaghetti and then the world will start to feel less horrible

[thereyloarchives]

"the ReYlOs aRe CrYiNg"

Can people stop talking about us and leave us alone please. Like.... I just ship these two characters and wish the last movie did the romance arc justice.

Like... that's it.

Whatever was supposed to happen didn't. And we can mourn whatever version of the story we would've preferred happening and leave it at that.

[amethystarrows]

going back through the comics to save pages for this weekend and-- i'm emotional????? kate was probably the only, if not one of the only people to see marcus and finch get married (aside from the officiant) because finch tells marcus: "It's today that matters. It's you that matters-- you and me-- and not the flowers or our families or friends."

help

i'm a mess

and kate loves those two to pieces she would die for them

[cryolyst]

~

[luciensbabbles]

Allowing myself to sit with the realisation that I don't love my brother anymore.

[aspergilloma]

im hungry and thirsty but there's no good food at my house and if i want water i have to leave my room and if i leave my room my dad will yell at me. also i have to get ready for prom basically right now otherwise i will NOT be ready in time but i am also teetering on the edge of a meltdown and want to scream and cry and kill people. so thats great

[brokenbough]

"No- no, Simon!" You whimper, squirming away from his hands, your own clawing at the floor.

"Cmon, you can take it." He grumbles, his voice low and command clear.

"Please- oh fuck. Simon, Simon, Simon." You recite like a prayer, squirming again as he adds pressure. You whimper and moan, fighting-- anything to get him to stop.

"Stop squirming, you need it. Take it." He commands roughly again, pinning you firmer into the wooden floorboards.

"Alright, what the fuck are you guys doing?" Soap and Gaz burst in through the door, looking down at the two of you.

There you are on your stomach, pinned under Simon, his hands on your back, his front against your butt. But... clothed.

"What type of freak shit are yall doing?" Gaz asks, watching you squirm under Simon again. He doesn't let you move, pressing down on your lower back once more, growling something quietly at you.

You cry out, whimpering again and clinging to nothing. "Simon, Simon please!" You whine again.

"Take it Doll. Take it." He says, rubbing that same spot.

You groan loudly, starting to fight him again.

"Alright dude, what the hell!" Soap questions, pushing Simon off of you.

You crawl away quickly, standing with a groan.

"What?" Simon grumbles out, pushing Soap back a bit, watching Kyle hug you tightly.

"You can't just pin down girls ya like and- and do whatever the hell that was!" Soap growls out.

Simon tilts his head, looking to you and back to Soap. "What the fuck are you on MacTavish?" Simon asks again, pushing past the sergeant to you.

"You- whatever you were doing to her." Soap continues, getting between you two again.

"Move." He says to his sergeant harshly, leaving no room for argument. But Soap doesn't, standing his ground and protecting you from his perverted lieutenant.

"I'm not gonna ask again." Simon says, glowering down at Soap. Kyle is behind both of them, you behind him as they stand bodyguard.

Finally free from Simon's hands, you quickly dart out of the door, hearing the growl of Simon behind you.

"Fuck off Lt.!" You yell back, turning corners and jumping over furniture and people as Simon is stuck behind his two sergeants. You get as far away as you can.

--

"Back. away." You demand, ready to run again as Soap and Gaz corner you.

"Nah ah little lady." Gaz says, a lazy smile on his face.

--

"You guys fucking suck!" You yell, squirming in Soap's hold, Gaz walking behind him for backup in case you tried to run again.

They quickly deliver you back to your lieutenant, dropping you at his very feet.

"Don't run bunny, won't and never will end well for you." Simon says, kneeling next to you. "On your stomach." He growls.

You huff, turning over and glaring at the sergeants who brought you here. "Dead to me. All of you." You growl before it fades into a soft moan of pleasure and pain as Simon settles back onto your butt, rubbing from your lower back and up.

"There ya go." He croons, adding more pressure.

"When I--fuck, fuck."

"Right there?" He teases.

"No, fuck you. And when I get the chance, I'm gonna break every single one of your stupid little fing-- FUCK!" You grip nothing again, clawing for one of the sergeants-- something, anything.

"Soap. You had the most to say, hold her hand." Simon commands, rubbing circles now.

Soap is hesitant, and even more so at your sadistic smile as he slowly moves closer. You quickly latch onto him when he gets close enough, pulling him down with you.

Soap sits there with you, grunting in pain every time your nails dig into his pale skin.

Simon continues to massage you, hitting all the right parts that scream in agony under his hands. Your body begs for more, but your mouth knows better than to give Ghost a big head.

"Gonna kill you Simon." You say before he makes you whine and whimper as if it's some joke.

"Yeah?" He asks.

"Nice-- ngh-- and slow." You relay.

"Like this?" He asks, a slow, long drag of his knuckles down your back.

You don't answer, can't, as you fall into a fit of more moans. You squeeze Soap, your salvation between the pain and pleasure.

"Jesus lass, keep gripping me like that, you're gonna leave a mark." Soap grumbles, hissing when you break skin. Again.

"Shut the fuck up!" You growl, whining again almost to the point of tears.

"Gonna do your shoulders after." Simon says as if it's a threat. And it is.

"Please no, please, Simon. Simon, Simon, please, hear me out."

"Mmm..." He mulls, looking down at your turned head. You, no longer holding onto Soap for dear life.

"Tomorow. Please, just do it tomorrow." You plead, eyes misty with unshed tears of pain-- pleasure?

"That's the thing Doll, I don't really feel like chasing tomorrow. I don't feel like chasing at all."

"I'll- I'll come to you. Please. Just tommorow."

"Why should I believe you when you just tried to run 40 minutes ago?"

"Cmon Lt., you know I'm not a liar."

"No, but you're a runner." He counters.

"F-fine. End of day. I'll come to you after dinner."

"I don't know if that works for me Doll."

"Please." You beg again.

--

"Dead to me. All of you." You say at dinner, glaring at Simon, Johnny, and Kyle.

"What is she talking about?" Price asks, slightly amused.

"She won't go to medical and I'm tired of hearing her complain about being sore." Ghost says nonchalantly.

"She doesn't like Lt's massages." Soap chimes in. "Got a couple of scars from 'er." He continues, showing Price his arm. The thin crescents now just a slight pink from where you dug your nails into him.

"Wouldn't have happened if you didn't force me to go to him." You snap back.

"Yeah, yeah."

"What's this about you not going to medical?" Of course that's the part he focuses on.

"Well, I--"

"It's handled Cap'n. Don't gotta worry about 'er." Ghost finally chimes in, staring directly at you.

You flick him your finger before going back to your food. You had to mentally prepare for his heavy, deft... strong... veiny hands to massage out the kinks in your shoulder.

Oh fuck.

--

"Sit." Simon says, pointing to his office chair.

"We can't do tomorrow?" You ask weakly, already moving to the chair.

"No. We're doing legs tomorrow."

"What--"

"Shh." He says, his heavy hands on your shoulders.

You sighed, moaning before he even got to rubbing.

"Eager?" He teases.

"N-- oh~" you moan, leaning back into his chair.

"There ya go. Relax." He encourages kindly, genuinely happy to help. He really was tired of you complaining about being sore and didn't need you stiff on a mission. He'd work through all your... kinks if it meant a better mission... and maybe listening to you moan his name, begging for a release he wouldn't give.

Maybe.

Bold of you to assume he does the small things out of the goodness of his heart without any benefit for himself.

Naive even.

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

If you can't tell, I'm in pain. My left shoulder specifically

[st6rrrs]

Bunny! Reader thinks rafes to big!

BUNNY! READER MOOD BOARD

P link

"not right now...rafey" you say pouting up at him as he stares at you confused

it was about 7:30pm, you and rafe were sitting on his balcony to his room, just enjoying the nice breeze as the sun begin to set.

"What the hell do you mean, not right now?" he groans rubbing his buzzed hair

"not right now." you huff whirling your hair with your finger and avoiding eye contact

"What are you on your period? ‘Cause you’re really starting to piss me off." his tone shifts. "you never turn me down?"

"no! im not...its just" you stammer your voice shaking slightly.

You fidget nervously as rafe stares at you impatiently

"your too big." you squeal covering your face with your hands and laying your head on his lap embarrassed.

"Too big?" he repeated a cocky smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

you knew he would be like this.

“Well I don’t know” he teased "Maybe you're just too tight, huh?" he chuckled as his hands moving up and down on your body.

you whine embarrassed again and cover your ears.

"everytime we fuck i feel like your suffocating my dick ya know?" he yanks your hand away from your ear and whispers that.

"Stop it, Rafe!" you whine as your face burns with embarrassment

you feel his laughter vibrating through his body.

your voice barely above a whisper. "

You're just so… big, and it hurts." you whimper sitting up now looking at him with your pretty, wide doe eyes.

"Maybe we just need to work on… stretching you out a bit yea?" he suggests his voice full of cocky confidence.

"ahh this isn't helping!" you moan into the bed below "it hurts"

you were on your hands and knees as rafe was behind you

"Ah come on baby relax your squeezing me." Rafe says as he pushes himself deeper into you.

you whine in frustration

"Ow, Rafe, stop! Just stop for a second" your voice high pitched and frustrated.

you were someone who rarely ever gets mad, you were the softest so this shocked rafe a bit.

Rafe pauses and looks at you with a mixture of concern and amusement.

"You're not going to break, baby," he says rubbing your head

you take a deep breath and try to calm down

Rafe's expression softens and he leans down to kiss you gently.

"I'll go slow okay? I'll make it feel good I promise." He starts to move again his thrusts slow and gentle.

you feel yourself start to relax and it doesn't hurt as much.

"Oh, Rafe," you moan "That feels…really good."

Rafe starts to move a little faster.. his thrusts still gentle but more insistent.

you feel yourself getting more and more turned on

"Rafe oh my god" you whimper, your voice rising. "I'm going to...I'm going to cum rafey..." the wave of pleasure crashes over you and you let out a little squeal.

you huff in exhausted and fall off your hands onto you stomach but rafe grips your hips, holding you in place as he pounds into you. His fingers are digging deep into your skin

As Rafe's cock thrusts deeper into you, you feel a sudden jolt of sensation as he hits your cervix.

you gasp as Rafe's cock rubs against your cervix. it hurts but it feels so gooddd

Suddenly he's crying out

his voice a loud groan of pleasure as he cums inside you. you can feel his hot seed spilling into you, filling you up with a warm, sticky sensation.

his hips jerking as he rides out the wave of his orgasm.

He's collapsed beside you.

Rafe's voice is low and husky

"You just needed to be stretched out, baby," he says "You were a little tight but I knew I could loosen you up."

“Don’t be embarrassed baby” he whispered his voice smooth almost teasing.

“You’re cute when you’re shy”

[moyazaika]

housewife syndrome

yandere! rockstar x fem! reader

cw; possessive + obsessive behaviour, severe mental instability, paranoia, anxiety, violence, heavy nsfw themes, mdni 18+

genie's notes; commissioned piece by a very sweet anon ♡ thank you so much for trusting me with this absolutely stunning idea. i’ve always been a fan of domestic horror, especially of the spiralling housewife variety, so it was fun to explore a new dynamic and fresh writing style. <3

"welcome home, sweetheart!" the television runs on low volume in the background as you greet your husband with a knowing smile. you run through the motions as you always do, make sure to ask with the most innocence you can muster, "how was your day?"

feroze can make out the sound of gallant applause that indicates you'd been watching reruns of last night's award ceremony.

"such a fucking drag." your husband pulls you into his arms, buries his head into the crook of your neck with a long, satisfied sigh and takes his sweet, sweet time to breathe you in. "couldn't fucking wait to come home to you, meri jaan."

his answer remains the same as it is every other day, and you can't help but smile against his lips when he pulls you in to steal a little kiss; you sigh into his mouth, and feroze is so fucking overwhelmed by gratitude for the familiarity and comfort of this little routine the two of you have seemed to settle down into so well.

"i love when you call me that," you confess; my life.

you know just as well as him that, well—it wasn't always this easy.

"yeah," feroze hums. "i know you do, baby."

you weren't always so lovely for him, were you?

-

you're quiet.

though the two of you are sitting across from each other at the dining table, your attention is clearly elsewhere. conversation is slow, if not stagnant. it's a far cry from how talkative you usually are; and though he would never fucking admit it, least of all to you, he worries, for a fraction of a second, that things are slipping.

"meri jaan?" he sets down his fork very carefully, reaches for your hands over the table.

you blink, pulled away from wherever you'd been lost in your mind and back down to this moment that stretches on before you.

"oh, sorry, my love. what was that?"

feroze watches your eyes quietly track the movement of his fingers, sliding over your wrists, lingering, momentarily, on your pulse—nice and steady—before they intertwine with your own.

your gaze lands on him, then, expectant. he drags his thumb over your knuckles, glad to find they're soft; unmarred by any labour. he loves having you here, tucked away within the walls of this home he built just for you, away from the rest of the rotten world.

such a darling girl like you deserves to have everything taken care of for you. as far as he's concerned, the only thing on your mind should be him.

which is why the silence is beginning to irritate him, now. he's not really upset with you, doesn't have a reason to be, just yet—he's just wondering what it is you're so focused on. where do you keep going back to in that head of yours, and why aren't you here with him?

is this where it all falls apart?

—again?

"rosy?" you try. "is everything alright?"

"yeah," feroze's hazel eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, endearingly patient. "i just wanted to know how your day was."

"ugh, don't remind me." you stick your tongue out. "it was so boring. i woke up so late today and didn't really do anything interesting."

"shit, i'm sorry to hear that, baby."

your husband nods towards the television, still playing from inside the living room across the hall; the screen's bright colours reflect against the glass windows that take up half the wall. though the program is muted, he can still hear the echoes from the cacophony of applause ringing loud and true.

the four hour program's been running on loop on some of the smaller channels, and you really seem to enjoy tuning in, he's noticed.

it would be more difficult not to notice this new habit of yours, really. because if he's been counting right, this is the seventh time you've seen the whole thing through to the end.

"seems like you were at least watching the music thing again."

"well, when my stunning husband won half of the awards," you shrug coyly. "how could i not?"

"flattery won't get you anywhere," feroze deigns, though neither of you mention the involuntary curl to his lips as they lift into a small, self-satisfied smile.

"huh, that's strange," you frown, pull your hands away from his own and make a show of examining the elaborately stacked engagement ring and marital band wrapped around your finger. "if i seem to remember correctly, flattery is exactly what got me this ring."

"oh," he laughs. "is that so?"

"uhuh," you nod, still admiring the rings. they're big and they're flashy and there's no fucking chance anyone could ever miss the sight of them; make the mistake of misunderstanding what they mean. you're so obviously his, and fuck, it suits you so perfectly to belong to him.

i love you, he thinks fiercely. i fucking love you.

"you've got an ego, rosy." your knowing gaze flickers back to him, accompanied by a teasing smile. "bit of a praise kink, too."

"and yet, darling wife," he'll never tire of calling you that; never really overcome the thrill that overwhelms him when he sees you adorned in the markers of his devotion and tucked away all safe and sound. "you're the only person whose words mean anything to me."

"ohh, is that so?" you taunt, "whatever happened to 'flattery won't get you anywhere?'"

feroze takes in the sight of you. you're dressed casual, donned in a baggy old shirt and a pair of his softest sweats hanging low off your hips. comfortable in your own home, as you should fucking feel, you have no makeup on, and your hair is unkempt; overdue for a shower; but fuck if he cares.

feroze decides, within a moment, that he needs you—

now.

"come here, meri jaan. i'll show you."

"you greedy, greedy man," you chastise lightly, rising from your seat. "i've just fed you dinner and you're still salivating at my table."

feroze watches you make the small effort of pushing your chair in, before turning on your heel. you pause in the doorway for a second, spare him a knowing glance over your shoulder; "well? aren't you hungry, darling husband?"

he knows that none of it evades you; the nervous bob of his adam's apple as he swallows. the way his fingers are digging into the edge of the table to keep from sinking inside of you right here. his heart is racing; his pants are tight. though you're so willing to be his now, he remembers it wasn't always this easy.

"my love." feroze grits out, "i'm fucking starving."

you disappear into the hallway, mellifluous laughter like the loveliest song, echoing off the walls—inside of his head, for fuck's sake—as your husband follows faithfully behind you when you lead him into the bedroom.

dinner goes cold on the table. you never touched your plate.

upstairs, minutes later, your husband bottoms out inside of the welcoming warmth of your sweet cunt, just as your fingers brush against the butcher's knife tucked right underneath your pillow.

-

feroze gets you to come twice before he decides he has his fill. he's rummaging through your nightstand for the contraceptives he knows you keep in there. it's got less to do with what he wants and more to do with what he believes is best for the two of you.

it's not that he doesn't want children; he dreams of them often. a little baby swaddled in the softest fabrics, wrapping its entire hand around just one of his fingers. the sound of a second pair of footsteps excitedly running down the hall every time he comes home from the studio, from tour. something more to take care of. to keep you busy.

but your husband knows you.

and though he's always been selfish, he can't risk kids until—well, until he knows you won't try to kill them.

it's taken you years to accept him. he won't undo that.

feroze, so caught up in his thoughts, only really registers the blade until it's slicing into his skin, the sharp edge of it pressing against the side of his neck with just enough pressure to draw blood.

he is disappointed, though by no means surprised, to find you on the other end wielding the knife.

he turns to face you, abandoning his search. you're holding onto the hilt of your makeshift weapon with trembling hands, and though he's suddenly overcome by exhaustion—because, baby, how many more times are you going to pull this—an involuntary shiver runs down his spine at the sight nonetheless.

"jaan," he tries to reason with you in hushed tones; oh, love. "what are you doing?"

you dig the knife in just a little deeper, and he winces; "i hate you, feroze." the words sting, though the relative lack of conviction they’re laced with serves as a promising sign of reconciliation.

"i know, baby. can you please just put the knife down so we can talk like adults?"

he glimpses the almost imperceptible change immediately.

the lines of hesitation on your face; a flicker of uncertainty in your eyes. when your hold on the weapon looses just the tiniest fraction of an inch, he wastes no time in gently but firmly prying the knife from out of your trembling hands; tosses it underneath the bed where it lands out of your reach.

he’s getting better at this. gets through to you so much sooner than he used to.

you’re listening, now, aren’t you?

the thought of it makes him oddly proud.

"there we go," feroze says. you're still shaking, and though he wants so fucking desperately to pull you closer and console you—he's learnt to tread the waters carefully in times like these. you're evidently scared. obviously upset with him. he can give you a little room to breathe. “now do you want to use your words and talk to me properly?”

“i keep rewatching the awards show. every other winner had someone there with them. some girlfriend or wife they kissed before they went on stage. you’re the only one who—” you swallow, voice wavering. “i’m the only one who wasn’t there. i’m the only one who’s kept hidden away.”

“you don’t want to show me off.” the tears fall almost immediately. “you’re ashamed of me.”

there are millions of words in the english language, and millions more in his own. he’s put into words every fleeting feeling you’ve made him feel; spun both the most magnificent and mundane of emotions into beautiful songs and compelling lyrics and composed entire albums from nothing—and yet, somehow, in this moment all of it evades him.

"i spend all day stuck here w-waiting for you to come home, and when you do—i keep thinking about all those ceremonies and galas and parties you go to, rooms i can never follow you into—and i hate you. i hate you for how much you hate me—”

“i’m sorry,” feroze’s hands run up your spine, to lightly curl his fingers around the back of your neck. he tilts your head up so that you’re meeting his gaze; leaves you nowhere to look away, “meri jaan.”

his touch is so soft and so, so cold against your skin. you've always run warmer than him; but he thinks you might be burning up right now. maybe you've got a fever; or maybe you're just this delirious even without one. it doesn't fucking matter, doesn't change anything.

“i’m sorry for ever leaving you alone long enough to even think that. let me make it up to you. let me show you how much i adore you. let me build you back up again.”

“you can’t fix this,” you whisper.

he smiles, but it’s strange; doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “so you said the last time.”

-

hours later, you’re less of a sobbing wreck when he’s got you perched in his lap, and all curled up under his chin. “okay… then…” you sniff. your words are somewhat muffled as you bury your face into your husband’s chest. “i’m sorry, too. i didn’t mean to hurt you, rosy. i was just scared, i-i promise.”

"i know.” his knuckles wipe away the tears drying on your cheeks. “give me a kiss, please.”

and ever the sweet wife, you do; but your lips are trembling.

fuck, that’s—

shit.

—not going to work, is it?

with a gentle but firm hand, he pushes you down onto the bed and watches you land on your back amidst the dozens of pillows that decorate the bed. even then, the softest thing here is you. he forgets that, sometimes. let this be a lesson, he thinks to himself, to keep your fragility in mind. this is only further proof that you need him more than he'd even realised.

but you picked the right man, didn’t you? because none of that scares him.

the two of you have faced far more difficult times together; this is just a little hiccup in your life as a married couple. some story you’ll look back on and laugh about, when you’re all better.

so when you look up at him with wide, wet eyes and ask, "its just—can you promise me you still love me one more time?”

feroze regards you closely. you’re so beautiful. so fucking perfect that it overwhelms him. sometimes, he wishes you could see yourself the way that he sees you. though he’s always believed that may just scare you; knowing how deep his devotion really runs. things are fine as they are now.

well, mostly.

he has decided that he will retire from music completely, but the two of you can broach that topic when you’re in a better headspace for it. it’s been a long time coming. work keeps the money coming in, and he wants to spoil you but—he wants you to be happy, above all. you don’t really know what you’re asking for right now, but he has every intention of giving you exactly what it is you wished for.

he can’t give in when you beg to come along with him—but he can come and hide away next to you in this little pocket of the world that solely belongs to the two of you.

"you drive me to madness, my love. nothing about this life means anything if i can’t keep you happy.”

the two of you never had a white wedding; because he wanted to honour your union the right way and celebrate you as his culture deigned. so, yes, he never got to read you any vows, but he'd like to think you've come to know him well enough to understand he doesn't necessarily need to say something so sacred out loud for it to hold true.

"do you understand? i love you," he lowers his forehead against yours. “till death does us apart.”

you put your heart in his hands one more time, looking so small, so vulnerable beneath him. "you promise?"

"i promise," he closes his eyes and revels in the soft, sweeping feeling of your lashes fluttering against his own. "always and forever, meri jaan."

feroze loves you, of this he's certain.

he also knows that you fucking terrify him.

it's a small price to pay, if it means keeping you—

besides, he thinks, reaching once more for the contraceptive pills on the nightstand.

—marriage is all about compromise, is it not?

[wwinterwitch]

safe haven – bucky barnes

summary: bucky goes back to you after the void incident pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 3.7k tags: thunderbolts* spoilers!, vague void experience on purpose (for the full x reader experience), sam is back and he's pissed, fluff and fluff and more fluff (love is in the air people!), comfort, kissing, things get heated at the end but no actual smut is included (i think i'll make another part exclusively for the smut lovers, so the people that don't read smut can still enjoy this part)

please reblog and/or comment in you enjoy!

all masterlists | marvel masterlist | previous part

You gasp, snapping back to reality after...whatever the fuck just happened, trying to catch your breath in hopes of easing your headache and slow your heart rate. The broom you were using to clean up your apartment lays on the floor next to you, everything looking the exact same as it was when you left.

It cannot possibly be another Thanos situation, right? That time it felt like you just blinked, but now it feels like you've been gone for long tortuous hours. That time your roommate almost had a heart attack when you knocked on the door of your shared apartment because she thought she’d never see you again. And you certainly don't remember anything about experiencing the blip. Now...now you wish you could forget what you saw back there.

You were forced to experience the most traumatizing memories playing in a loop over and over again until all you could do is sit in a corner and cry as you beg for the images to go away. A horrifying display of the darkest moments of your life. The times you felt more unhappy and hopeless. And every time you thought you’d managed to escape, you’d just end up in yet another memory.

But somehow you're back in your apartment now. Everything looks the exact same and it seems like no time has passed.

Still, even when it seemingly feels like you're safe, you can't help but feel uneasy. The thought of what you saw is still very much present in the back of your mind, replaying over and over again, taking over your senses and clouding your judgement. 

What if this is just another trick and you’re about to experience another horrible memory? You look around your apartment, too afraid to move, expecting to see something that confirms that you’re still stuck in this never-ending nightmare. That you’ll have to stay in this place for the rest of your life.

The unexpected buzzing of your phone makes you jump, snapping you back to reality as you frantically search for it. Quickly spotting it on top of your dinner table, you keep wondering what the hell is happening as you read Sam's name on your screen.

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN? I'VE BEEN TEXTING YOU LIKE CRAZY,” you hear him shout on the other line as soon as you picked up, sounding incredibly agitated.

“I'm sorry, I...I don't exactly know what happened,” you mutter, staring outside the window in hopes of seeing something out there that might give you any clues of what is going on. To your surprise, you can see a few ambulances speeding past your street and you can spot a large cloud of smoke in the distance. 

Bucky and the others are most likely involved in that commotion. You can only hope that they’re okay, still having no updates. You can’t really tell how much time has passed since they left, so you can’t know for sure when Bucky is going to show up.

“The entirety of New York just went black,” he explains. “It just looked like darkness.”

“What?” you ask in disbelief. “I don't remember anything about it. I was just cleaning up my apartment and then somehow I was in...I don't even know what it was. It was like purgatory or something.”

“What do you mean?”

You sigh, not really wanting to go into too much detail about the stuff you had to witness. Honestly, you wish you could just forget it. “It was like being tortured, Sam. I don't know what it was, just that it was awful. I was cleaning my apartment and that's pretty much the last thing I remember before waking up in that place.”

There's a brief silence and for a second you thought perhaps the call was disconnected, but you suddenly hear Sam's voice again. “Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me!”

“What happened?” you say, evidently confused.

“Put on the news,” he sighs, muttering something else under his breath you can't quite hear correctly. “I gotta go, but I'll talk to you later, okay?” he says in a ruther rushed voice, sounding both pissed and worried. “Take care.”

“Sure. Bye, Sam.”

You hang up the phone as you sit on your couch, TV remote in your hand as you search for any news broadcast that's on. As soon as you find one, you stare at it in disbelief. There, in the middle of a street, is Valentina giving some bullshit speech you don't really care to pay attention to, and behind her stands the entire group of people that were in your apartment just seconds (or minutes? Hours?) ago, joined by a blonde guy you have never seen before.

They look exhausted and visibly confused to be in front of so many cameras. Bucky and Yelena look particularly pissed. But what matters the most to you is that they're all alive.

The next thing that really catches your attention is the text on the banner beneath the image. 'Introducing the New Avengers'.

What the hell is really going on right now?

The broadcast finally ended, and it doesn't take Bucky that long to arrive. All he wanted to do was to get away from Valentina and all the press that just kept taking pictures of him and the others. He barely even acknowledged the rest of the group, leaving as soon as possible. All he wants right now is to see you and make sure you're okay. He knows you're probably safe– of course you are, but he won't be calm until he's standing before you to make sure you really are unharmed.

He walks inside your apartment and immediately walks towards you, grabbing your face with both of his hands as soon as he's standing in front of you, frantically scanning your face for any sight of hurt or discomfort. It's almost as if you were the one out there fighting.

“Are you okay?” he asks, slightly out of breath, still not letting you go.

“Yes, I'm okay,” you reply with a reassuring smile, and he immediately pulls you in for a hug. “How are you?”

“Uh...as good as I can be.” 

His arms are still tightly wrapped around you, not wanting to let you go any time soon. Yes, he’s holding onto you because it’s a huge relief to confirm that you’re safe, but it also brings him an enormous amount of comfort, which is what he was craving ever since he stepped foot into the void.

“What kind of answer is that?”

“I don't know. It's been a lot. I was so worried about you.”

“I was so worried about you!”

He pulls away just enough, and you almost want to roll your eyes at the playful smirk on his face. “Don't try to make this a competition.”

“I won't make it a competition because I would obviously win,” you reply, exasperated. “I wasn't the one who was out there fighting...what was the guy's name again?”

“Sentry.” There’s a brief pause, his expression hardening considerably. “Were you there too?”

You get even more exasperated because you still don't understand shit. “Where?”

“The void.”

Realization hits you right there. The entirety of New York being consumed by darkness as Sam explained over the phone, the horrible things you had to see...of course a place like that would have such a fitting name. It felt exactly like it. You just felt empty and alone.

“So that's what it was. And the entire city was experiencing the same thing?” you ask, still in complete disbelief at the idea of one person having that much power. It certainly is a terrifying and dangerous ability to have. 

Then, after a quick pause, you realize Bucky had to experience that too, immediately hating the idea of him having to endure that. "Were you...?"

Bucky notices the shift in your expression, offering you a weak smile. “Yeah, we were all there.”

You don't know what to say at first. If you thought you had a hard time in there, you can't even begin to imagine the horrors Bucky was forced to watch over and over again. It breaks your heart to think about it. Even when he has made a lot of progress when it comes to healing from his past and learning to forgive himself, it doesn't mean the pain and guilt are not there.

“I'm so sorry,” is all you can say, feeling completely useless at that moment. Sorry doesn't make it better in any way.

“It's okay. It's not like this is the first time I've been there.”

His last statement absolutely crushes you. If you could find a way to take all of that burden off his shoulders, you'll do it in a heartbeat. Still feeling completely useless, you decide to pull him in for another hug, because at least that’s doing a little more than just saying you’re sorry.

“I wish I could do more to make you feel better,” you whisper, feeling his fingers gently running through your hair in an affectionate manner, kissing the top of your head.

“Being here with you is more than enough,” he whispers back. “You are more than enough."

“Oh, please don't make me cry now,” you warm him with a soft giggle, feeling like a few tears might actually come out any second now.

The sound of Bucky's laugh makes you feel just a hundred times better about the entire situation involving that stupid void, loving to hear it under such circumstances. It's impossible not to feel overwhelmed right now. That place really left you feeling like an emotional mess.

You move back from the hug just enough and Bucky takes that as his opportunity to pull you in for a kiss. The type of kiss that makes your knees weak and leaves your mind completely blank. A kiss you see in a movie with fireworks adorning the night sky, right before the end credits roll. One that feels like he's been dying to give you a kiss since he closed the door of your apartment before New York was consumed by darkness.

A kiss that shows you he really does mean it when he says you are more than enough.

“I'm really happy you're okay,” he mutters right after the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

I love you. That's all you can think of in this moment, and it takes everything in you not to say it out loud because how fucking insane would that be? To not even be an official couple and already say such a thing? Perhaps it wouldn't be so crazy given you've been best friends for so many years (and you've had a crush on him for most of them), but still. It's just too soon. Too weird. Too intense.

The fucking void really did numbers on you. Just get it together, please!

“I'm happy you're okay too,” is what you say instead, which sounds appropriate. And not weird. And not intense at all.

You offer to make him a snack after all that happened, forcing him to take a seat when he said he could do it himself. As you prepared a few sandwiches, he tried to explain as much as possible about everything that's been going on.

“So Bob doesn't remember anything?” you ask once he's done, just as you're handing him a plate with two grilled cheese sandwiches.

“Apparently,” he replies, right before leaning over the counter to give you a quick kiss as a way of thanking you for the food.

“Well, that's probably for the best, right? I mean if the Sentry part returns, it's only a matter of time until the Void part wants to have a bit of fun again too.”

He practically devours one of the sandwiches, looking like he hasn't eaten in centuries. “Probably,” he says nonchalantly, clearly more focused on eating. It's impossible to blame him for it, especially considering everything he's been through today.

You can't help but smile at the image of him eating the sandwiches like he's been deprived of food his entire life. So much so that he can barely hold a conversation.

I love you. It's like you just couldn't hold yourself back from wanting to blurt those three little words once again. Like it's physically impossible to hold them in. It doesn’t matter if he’s saying cute things to you or if he’s eating like a caveman. You love both sides of him. 

But you can't say it. You can't be weird.

Instead, you try a much more appropriate approach once again. “You're so cute,” you say with a smile, moving closer to run a hand through his hair affectionately. Then, you suddenly remember something that you two haven't discussed yet, and your 'I'm-so-down-bad' smile turns into a 'just-thought-of-the-best-joke-ever' smirk. “Might as well start calling you the cutest Avenger, huh?”

He turns to look at you with a soft grin on his face, immediately shaking his head. “Please, tell me you didn't see that.”

“Oh, but of course I did!” You take a seat next to him on your kitchen counter, getting more comfortable to continue teasing him. “The news called you ‘The New Avengers’. Who would’ve thought!”

“It was all Valentina's plan to save her ass.”

“So you guys are not going to accept the title?”

“We are, but we still need to have a few meetings to set some rules if we plan on working together…and boundaries.”

“Oh, don’t act like you’re so irritated by the idea! I can tell you’re starting to feel more comfortable around them.”

He’s completely silent for a few seconds, knowing he can’t lie without you noticing. “Okay. They might be growing on me.”

“Awwh,” you reply, but not with the intention of making fun of him. “I thought they were very nice. And I'm glad you're making new friends.”

“You're never gonna stop teasing me about any of these, aren't you?”

“Well...yeah, but I actually mean it when I say I like seeing you meeting new people,” you reply, changing your tone and demeanor to let him know you're serious. “And yes, I'll tease you about the whole Avengers thing, but that doesn't mean I'm not excited to witness this new chapter in your life.”

You begin gently caressing his arm as you offer him a sincere smile. “You deserve it. You deserve to be recognized for your kind heart and your willingness to help others,” you continue. “I'm so proud of how far you've come. And I'm sure Steve is proud of you too.”

The mention of his childhood friend brings a melancholy to his expression that is both sad and beautiful to see. It shows he still deeply misses him, but has learned to think of him without breaking down. It's the type of expression you have when you've finally found peace with the fact that someone you love is not around anymore...not entirely around, at least. He'll always carry a part of Steve Rogers with him.

"Thank you," he says, genuinely meaning it. 

I love you. Those three words threaten to make their way into your conversation again, but this time it's not you the one fighting back the urge to say them.

But It's just a little too soon, right? Last thing he wants is to make things awkward between the two of you. So he decides not to say anything, just like you have decided twice already.

You smile, standing up from your seat. “Finish eating, okay? I have to clean the mess the New Avengers left in my living room earlier.”

“Yeah, you'll have to get used to that, unfortunately.”

“Like I haven't had to deal with that before,” you joke, hinting back at all the times you had people like Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton randomly showing up at your place.

Bucky stays in your kitchen while you finish brooming until you’re sure the floor of your living room is impeccable, familiarity slowly setting in after everything that happened today. You could faintly hear Bucky having a phone call with someone, but you couldn't quite make the words out over the music you had playing on your own phone to make the cleaning much more entertaining.

You go back to your kitchen to throw away the dirt and dust you collected from the living room, just in time to see Bucky standing up to wash the dish he used, sandwiches long gone.

“I just got a call from Sam,” Bucky says as soon as he notices you, his tone letting you know it wasn't exactly a pleasant conversation.

“What did he want?”

“For us to immediately backtrack and not go through with the whole Avengers thing.”

“Yeah, he called me just as it was airing and he didn't sound too happy about it. What are you going to do?”

Bucky sighs, exhaustion visible in his demeanor. “I'll talk to him later. I don't think anyone in the team feels like backtracking right now. Most of them looked pretty excited actually.” You can't help but smile, which makes him let out a soft chuckle. “What?”

“You said 'the team'. I just thought it was cute,” you shrug, crossing your arms across your chest. “I should invite them for a pizza night or something. Get to know them a little better. And meet this Bob guy too.”

“You'll invite John?” he asks, half-joking.

“Please don't call him John,” you immediately reply, squinting your nose in disgust. “I'll have to warm up to him...very slowly. I still feel like punching him in the face when I see him.”

“That's fair,” he agrees with you, perfectly understanding where your discomfort with John Walker's presence comes from. Perhaps that might explain some of the reasons as to why Sam seems so against the idea of this team being a thing.

You notice Bucky walks towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Even when the possible pizza night sounds exciting, I kind of just want to think about the two of us spending time together alone,” he says, grinning mischievously. 

A shiver runs down your spine when you feel his fingers near your neck, gently pulling the fabric of your hoodie to the side, exposing more of your collarbone. He places a few kisses there. Slow and careful.

“Perhaps I can stay here with you for a few more days?” he suggests, right before leaving another kiss on your skin, using his other hand that’s firmly placed on your lower back to bring your body closer to his.

“Of course you can stay,” you reply in a soft voice, trying not to let it show just how much his actions are affecting you.

He practically hums against your skin. “Do you want me to stay?” he whispers, definitely making you shiver now that his metal fingers are tracing lazy patterns on your skin, underneath your hoodie. What a teasing piece of shit.

It’s almost impossible to speak now. “Yes.”

His fingers trail further up your spine, but not that much higher. Just enough to allow you to feel his touch in a slightly different place, making you crave for more. A silent reminder that he can just move his fingers wherever he pleases, but he deliberately chooses not to grant you that pleasure.

“Then say it properly.”

It’s not a suggestion or a plea. It’s straight up an instruction. And he sounds like he’s absolutely certain that you’ll do exactly as he says. 

And you do. “I want you to stay here with me.”

The kisses on your neck continue and it feels like a reward, so you just stand there and enjoy it, allowing him to worship your skin with his lips until you're practically trapped between his body and the counter.

You can feel your cheeks burning red, the warmth spreading to the rest of your body with each kiss. “Don't you want to take a shower?” you try being a voice of reason, your brain just doing whatever it can to help you feel less nervous.

“Why? You're thinking about joining me?” he whispers against your skin, which immediately makes you regret ever opening your mouth because what the fuck is wrong with him and how does he dare to say something like that?

Okay. To justify your growing nerves, you've technically never been fully intimate with Bucky yet. You've been pretty close because a girl can only hold back for so long, but the two of you have been mainly focusing on your emotional connection and that one is just so mind-blowingly special that there hasn't been a need to immediately jump to the physical aspects of your relationship.

But oh, is he tasting your limits right now...

“How you even have the energy right now is beyond me,” you comment again. You're not against the idea of something happening, but your nervous brain gets the best of you so you find yourself blurting out random things yet again.

Finally, Bucky moves away just enough, a playful smile adorning his lips. “I'll always have the energy for you,” he replies, and the implication behind his words has you blushing even harder.

You immediately hide your face in his chest while he wraps his arms around you, laughing at your reaction. “I hate you,” you mutter.

“No, you don't.”

That's true. You really don't hate him at all. It's actually quite the opposite, but you can already picture him walking out the front door if he hears you say how you truly feel about him. The thought of daring to confess you love him is a thousand times more terrifying than the idea of having sex with him for the first time.

You look up, smiling up at him when he kisses your forehead. “No, I don't.”

“Glad to see you're agreeing with me for once in your life,” he comments playfully.

“Don't push it,” you warn him, making him laugh once again.

“How about I take a shower like you suggested and then we take a nap together,” he suggests casually, still keeping his arms around you. “I think we can both use a little sleep.”

“Yeah, a nap sounds good.”

“Wow, two in a row! What has gotten into you?” he jokes yet again, trying to get you to stay in his arms when you start to push him away after that little comment, but he doesn't put up that much resistance, so you're eventually getting away from him.

“You're insufferable,” you comment in an obviously fake tone of annoyance, right before leaving the kitchen to head towards your bedroom.

“And you're beautiful,” he replies with a genuine smile, following after you.

[navybrat817]

Hello, Navy! Hope you're doing well. I'm here back again because i have a mighty need to tell you this:

just bucky saying "sit and take what you need, honey" and encouraging her to ride him with all her want/need... and not even 5 minutes in he's pleading "jesus, honey, wait you're gonna make me cum too soon" but his hands still encouraging her to keep going hard.

— 🍯anon

Oh, my beautiful nonnie.

Ride It

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky encourages you to take what you want.

Word Count: Over 760

Warnings: Established relationship, unprotected vaginal sex (wrap it before you tap it), light choking, dirty talk, possessive behavior, slight feels if you squint, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Work was a big ball of suck today, but I hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“Sit and take what you need, honey.”

That was what Bucky told you almost five minutes ago, and now he's forcing himself not to move as you brace your hands on his thighs and roll your hips. He watches, completely entranced, letting you bounce on his cock and take what belongs to you. Your nipples still have a bit of shine from him sucking on them and he can’t help but slide a hand to your throat and gently squeeze.

You giggle, a breathy sound, before you say, “Harder.”

He obliges and feels you tighten around him. His strength doesn’t scare you. You crave it. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs when you moan. “Bounce on my cock. Take me.”

Just like he has his days when he simply fucking needs you, which is quite often, you have those days, too. So, when you went into the living room, naked, tugged on his sweatpants, and straddled him without a word, he was more than happy to let you take control. It makes him feel good that you need him. Though it was taking everything in him to not thrust up into you or flip you over and pound into your pretty pussy until you cried.

As long as you get off, you can fuck however you please.

But he feels his head start to spin, his eyes half lidded when he feels the dam close to breaking. “Fuck, honey, wait,” he begs when you move faster, dropping his hand to your hip. He doesn’t keep you still. His touch only encourages you. “Gonna fill you up too quickly if you don’t stop.”

And he has to get you off.

His words only encourage you more. “Yeah, big boy?”

“I’m serious. Gonna come if you keep doing that,” he warns. Only you can make him lose control.

“You can. It’s okay,” you smile, a heart stopping smile, when he bites his lip. “I want you to.”

“Honey…” he growls, another warning. He isn’t sure if it’s for you or himself.

“My pussy’s that good, isn’t it?” you asked, circling your hips. “You wanna fill me up, don’t you? Make my pussy yours.”

“Fuck me,” he groans, his head falling back. He loves when you talk dirty. Loves fucking each of your holes. Bucky just loves you.

“I am. I’m fucking this thick… huge… cock,” you moan, your back arching and your hand moving between your legs to play with your clit. It’s such an erotic, filthy display and he swears he’s going to blow his load in a few more seconds. “Making it mine.”

His breath hitches when you lean in, your lips touching the corner of his mouth. “Fuck, yeah. It’s yours,” he promises, his breath ragged as you grind yourself down on his cock. Your cunt feels too good, squeezing him like you own him, the same way he owns you. He just doesn’t want to let go without you. “Want me to come? Wanna milk my cock for all it’s worth?” he asks, smacking your ass and smirking when you shriek.

“Yes!” you cry.

“Then keep riding me. Use me. Own me.” The wet squelch from your bodies meeting is almost obscene and he loves it. Loves every sound, every movement. He still can’t believe some days that he has you. That he gets to fuck you, love you, keep you. You’re his, and he’s yours. “‘Atta girl.”

“‘m close, Bucky,” you moan. He can feel it. You’re practically dripping. Such a pretty fucking mess. He wants to clean it up with his tongue. “So, give it to me. Come with me. I need it.”

Bucky will never deny what you need.

His fingers dig in as he starts to quiver. Bucky wasn’t a man who quivered until you and your perfect cunt showed up in his life. And your greedy cunt milks him just like you want, and he wonders if his release is what triggers yours. The moans you let out don’t stop him from claiming your mouth and swallowing down the last sounds from your orgasm. And he can’t stop himself from finally lifting his hips, drawing one last moan from you.

“Fuck…” he pants, smiling and framing your face. “I love you.”

“I love your cock,” you sigh, and giggle when he nibbles on your bottom lip. “And you.”

That makes his heart soar. “Get what you need?”

“Almost.” There’s a spark in your blissed out expression, and his cock stays hard inside your clenching walls. “Think I need one more.”

He gives you three, and you thank him for it.

Nothing to see here, lovelies! Go about your business. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[matt-murdockk]

Time

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader

words: 2.8k

summary: On their wedding night, (Y/n) disappears in Matt’s arms-blipped without warning. For five years, he mourns her, tormented by grief and hallucinations. When she returns, unchanged, he’s convinced she’s not real. (angst mostly with fluff ending)

warnings: angst, cussing, lack of proofreading rip, set in infinity war - endgame timeline (reader getting blipped, etc)

a/n: Listen, my boy Matt is the PERFECT practice for writing angst. I just like to put him in situations and watch him like he's in a fish tank and I'm outside tapping on the glass. This man absolutely cannot catch a break and while I am partially to blame (cause I'm writing it this time), just how Matt is written in general is in a way that it just makes sense to put him through shit. He is a walking amalgam of Catholic Guilt, adrenaline, and poor decision making and I love him so much. This one is a boatload of angst but I threw in some fluff in the ending because well, we deserve good things.

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

The apartment door creaked open with the softest thud, and then her back hit it as Matt pressed her gently against the wood, lips grazing her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. He was smiling.

That rare, devastating smile he only wore when it was just them.

“You’re supposed to carry me across the threshold, remember?” she whispered, breathless with laughter.

“Oh, I didn’t forget,” Matt murmured. “Just wanted a moment alone with my wife first.”

Wife.

The word made her stomach flip in a good way- warm and giddy and ridiculous.

He scooped her up easily, one arm beneath her knees, the other at her back, and she looped her arms around his neck like she’d never let go. “You’re enjoying this a little too much.”

“I’m legally required to now,” he said with a smirk. “It’s in the vows. Carry you everywhere. Worship the ground you walk on. Try not to lose my mind over how good you look in that dress.”

“Flawless delivery, Murdock,” she teased. “Truly. I can tell you definitely wrote your own vows.”

He chuckled against her shoulder as he carried her through the doorway into the quiet, dimly lit apartment. Candles flickered. Soft music still hummed faintly from the speaker they forgot to turn off before the ceremony.

And for a second- just one perfect second- it was all stillness. Just them. Just this.

He set her down gently, hands lingering at her waist. They kissed again, slower now. Softer. Everything feeling like it had finally settled into place. She pressed her forehead to his, heart beating a little too fast.

“I think I’m going to cry.”

“I’ll beat you to it,” he murmured, eyes closing, nose brushing hers. “You’re here. You’re mine. We made it.”

She smiled, eyes glassy. “We did.”

They stood there for a while. Just holding each other. Breathing the same air. Wedding bands warm against skin.

But then-

She shifted slightly in his arms. Her brows furrowed.

“Matt?”

He straightened a little, instantly alert. “Yeah?”

“I feel... weird.”

He tilted his head, concern filtering through his features. “Weird how?”

She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I don’t know. It’s like- I just got dizzy all of a sudden. Like the room’s moving.”

Matt gently guided her toward the couch, helping her sit down. “Okay. Just breathe. You might be dehydrated. Or just- adrenaline crash.”

She tried to smile. “Yeah. Big day. Lots of emotions. Too many speeches.”

She stood too fast. Her hand slipped from his.

“Careful,” Matt said, already reaching for her again. “Take it slow- ”

“I think I need to throw up,” she mumbled, voice shaky.

“Okay, yeah,” he nodded, already guiding her. “Bathroom’s just- ”

She staggered.

Her balance tipped.

Matt caught her by the waist before she could fall. “Hey. Hey, I got you. It’s okay- ”

She didn’t answer.

Her body felt... lighter. Unsteady. Like her weight was shifting in his arms.

He tilted his head, trying to focus on her. “(Y/n)? You with me?”

She looked up at him.

Confused.

Scared.

“M-Matt, I...”

And then her voice just- cut out.

His arms were suddenly empty.

He blinked.

No sound. No step. No breath.

Just... gone.

The faintest warmth lingered against his fingertips- and then something like dust scattered through them.

“What the- ?” he whispered, stepping back. “(Y/n)?”

His hand shook. Her scent was still in the room. Her heartbeat-

No. No, that wasn’t right.

He turned, listening harder, straining his senses.

Nothing.

There was nothing.

The silence grew louder. His throat closed up.

“(Y/n)?”

He moved down the hallway. Checked the bathroom. The bedroom. “(y/n), c’mon. Say something.”

No heartbeat. No motion. Not even the creak of a floorboard. Like she’d never been there. Matt’s chest started to cave in.

“Okay, this isn’t- this doesn’t make sense,” he muttered. “Maybe you passed out. Maybe you hit your head. Maybe- ”

His foot bumped something.

Her ring.

Her wedding ring.

Lying on the floor.

His knees hit the hardwood before he could stop them. “No.”

He crawled forward, hands blindly reaching, as if she might be hidden just out of reach.

“(Y/n)!” His voice cracked. “Where are you?!”

Still nothing.

Just the flicker of the candles.

Just the soft sound of ash settling.

“No, no- God, no!” He stood again. Stumbled. Slipped.

“(Y/n)!” He shouted so hard it tore something in his throat. “Talk to me!”

He made it to the front door. Opened it. Nothing. No one. No footsteps. No sounds of retreat. Matt’s breathing picked up. His fingers trembled as he unlocked his phone, nearly dropping it before hitting Call.

Foggy.

It rang once. Twice-

Pick up.

The sound of the city outside had changed. He could hear it.

Screaming. Tires screeching. Glass shattering six blocks over. Someone crying for help. Sirens multiplying like wildfire. It all surged into his head at once- too much, too fast.

He pressed his palm against his ear, gritting his teeth. “Too loud. I can’t- ”

Click.

“Matt?” Foggy answered, out of breath. “Hey, shouldn’t you be- ?”

“She’s gone,” Matt said immediately, voice fraying. “Foggy- she was right here, and then she just... disappeared.”

“What do you mean ‘disappeared’?”

“I mean she turned to ash in my hands,” Matt snapped, breath catching. “I was holding her. She said she felt sick and then- then she just... she was gone.”

There was a pause.

“Matt, hang on- wait- ” Foggy’s voice shifted, panic creeping in. “I think... Matt, something’s happening. It’s not just her.”

Matt stilled. “What do you mean?”

“I’m outside and people are vanishing. Right in front of me. There was a guy walking beside me- just turned to dust. A woman screaming for her kid, and the kid vanished. A guy in a cab just disappeared behind the wheel, Matt. It crashed into a light post.”

Matt pressed a hand to the center of his chest like he could anchor himself to the sound of Foggy’s voice. But even that was drowned out by the chaos around him.

“I can’t hear her,” he whispered. “Her heartbeat- her breathing- it’s just gone. Like she was never here, foggy.”

Foggy’s voice came through again, strained and tense. “It’s happening everywhere. I can’t keep up. There’s shouting, people running- I think half the crowd outside just vanished. I’m not exaggerating.”

Matt stumbled toward the couch, hand landing on the coffee table. “She was right here.”

“I’m coming to you,” Foggy said quickly. “Stay there, Matt. Don’t go outside- Jesus Christ, someone else just- ”

The line crackled. Cut out. Came back.

Matt’s hands were shaking as he reached for the remote.

The TV flicked on.

"...mass disappearances reported in New York, Chicago, London- this is now confirmed to be a global event..."

Footage played- Times Square chaos. Pedestrians turning to dust mid-step. News anchors looking off-camera in horror. Phones on the ground. Car alarms going off in every direction.

“We are receiving reports that approximately half the world’s population has- vanished.”

The camera panned to a child’s stuffed toy, untouched, lying in a pile of ash. Everything was still. Except the noise. And the empty space beside him on the floor.

“She was right here,” he said again, softly. Like it might undo it.

“She was right here.”

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

five years later

She came back mid-step.

One foot lifted toward the bathroom- and when it landed, everything was wrong.

The apartment was darker. Colder. Rearranged.

The soft glow from the corner lamp was unfamiliar. The kitchen counter had a different crack. The rug was new. The air carried a different scent- like dust and time and a city that had moved on without her.

“Matt?” she called, voice hoarse.

Silence.

She stepped further in. The living room looked lived-in, but not by her. Not anymore. Not for a long time. The coffee table was cluttered with open case files. There was a cane by the door she didn’t recognize. Her heart pounded faster.

“Matt-?”

And then he was there. He stood in the doorway like he’d been carved from stone, unreadable and unmoved. Then, quietly- too calmly- he said, “So. You’re back.”

She stopped cold.

“Matt-”

He tilted his head slightly, almost as if studying her. “Took longer this time.”

“What…?” she breathed.

“Usually you show up around hour thirty-six,” he said, like it was a fact. “Right after the exhaustion hits but before the whiskey does anything useful.”

Her stomach twisted. “Matt, I’m not-”

“Don’t,” he cut in, sharp. “Don’t do that.”

She swallowed hard. “This isn’t what you think.”

“No?” His voice was soft, even, lethal. “Because it looks a hell of a lot like every other time I’ve lost my mind and imagined you standing in this room.”

(Y/n) blinked, her chest rising and falling too fast. “Matt, I- I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, no trace of humor. “You wouldn’t.”

“I was just- I felt sick and then it was cold, and everything looked wrong and-" Her words tangled, tripping over each other. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He didn’t answer.

“Matt?”

Nothing.

She took a tentative step forward. “Please. Say something. What happened? What- what’s going on?”

He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. His voice, when it came, was low and sharp, like a scalpel slicing through skin without even trying.

“Don’t do this to me again.”

Her breath caught. “What- what do you mean, again?”

“I know your routine now,” he said, voice tightening with each word. “You show up, confused. You ask questions. You cry. And then just when I start to believe you might be real- when I almost let myself feel something again- you vanish.”

“Matt, I don’t- ”

“No,” he snapped. “Stop. Just stop.”

She froze. He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, his jaw locked, eyes unreadable.

“You know what it’s like to bury someone without a body, (Y/n)?” he asked. “To sit in this apartment with your ring in my hand, trying to convince myself that ash on the floor was all that was left of you?”

She shook her head, tears spilling freely now. “I don’t remember anything-”

“Exactly,” he said, bitter. “You never do. That’s the trick, isn’t it? You pretend like you’re all confused. Like you don’t know what’s happening. And I- I fall for it. Every time. Like an idiot.”

“Matt- please, just listen to my heartbeat-”

“I did,” he cut in. “I’ve heard it before. Right before it disappears.”

Her lips trembled. “I swear I’m not-”

“You don’t get to do this,” he said, his voice suddenly shaking, but no less cruel. “You don’t get to come back here like nothing happened. Like you didn’t leave me bleeding on the floor that night. Like I didn’t spend years trying to claw my way out of what you left behind.”

“I didn’t leave you,” she whispered.

“But you’re dead,” Matt hissed, stepping close enough for her to feel the heat off his skin. “You died. And whatever this is- this illusion, this dream- it doesn’t change that. You don’t get to hurt me again.”

He said it like a closing statement. Like a sentence passed down after a trial that never had a chance. But he didn’t stop there.

“You think this is easy for me?” he went on, voice low, cracking at the edges now. “You think I want to keep seeing you in doorways? Hearing your voice when I close my eyes? You think I haven’t begged for it to stop?”

(Y/n) stood frozen, lips parted, tears streaking silently down her face.

“I have spent five years trying to forget the exact way you said my name before you disappeared. Five years trying not to hear it in someone else’s mouth. Five years waking up thinking you might be there- just once- and then realizing that all I’ve got left is a bed that’s too big and silence that’s too loud.”

He was pacing now, hands in his hair, breathing hard, unable to stop himself.

“You were my wife. You were supposed to be the rest of my life. And I had you for minutes. You were ripped out of my arms before I even got to love you properly. Do you understand that? Do you even get what you left behind?”

“Matt-”

“I grieved you like a man who’d never believe in God again,” he growled. “I went back to that night a thousand times in my head-wondering if I missed something, if I could’ve saved you, if I’d just done one thing different-”

“Matt-”

“I begged,” he snapped. “I begged God to bring you back. I lost everything trying to survive you. And now you show up here, looking exactly the same, like time hasn’t touched you, like you’re just picking up where you left off- like you didn’t burn me to the fucking ground-”

“Matt.”

She said it once.

Quietly.

And then she reached for him.

He flinched on instinct, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, gently, deliberately, she took his hand in hers- still trembling from the weight of his words- and guided it up between them.

To her chest. To her heartbeat. Right there. Steady. Real. Alive. His breath hitched. She kept his hand pressed there, fingers wrapped around his wrist like she could anchor him to this one undeniable truth.

“I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m not in your head. I don’t know how or why or what the hell happened, but I’m here.”

Matt didn’t move at first. Just stood there, hand pressed to her chest, like he didn’t trust what he was feeling. Like it might stop if he acknowledged it out loud. Then- suddenly- he let out a shaky breath and pulled her into him, hard.

His voice was muffled against her shoulder. “What the fuck.”

Her hands gripped his shirt like she was afraid he’d drop her again. “Yeah, what the fuck. I don’t know what’s happening.”

He laughed once, breathless and half-broken. “Yeah. Me neither.”

They just stood there for a second. Breathing each other in. Trying to recalibrate. Then, against his chest, she mumbled, “You look like shit, by the way.”

It slipped out before she could stop it. Matt let out an actual laugh- short, incredulous, almost like it startled him.

“That’s not funny,” he said, wiping at his eyes, still half-laughing.

She smiled weakly. “Little bit funny.”

He shook his head, still not quite believing any of it. “God, I missed you.”

And then he kissed her.

Desperate and real and messy- too much force, too much urgency, like he didn’t trust it to last. His hands found her face, holding her like he needed proof she was solid. She kissed him back just as hard, fingers in his hair, anchoring him to now. To her.

It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t perfect. But it was real. And that was enough.

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

a little bonus content because well it was funny in my head

A few days later

She was curled up next to him on the couch, legs tangled, one of his old hoodies hanging off her shoulder. The TV was on, volume low, neither of them really watching.

She was still catching up- on everything. The blip. The aftermath. The years she missed. Sometimes it hit her like a freight train. Other times, like now, it just snuck up and poked her in the ribs.

She turned to look at him, brow furrowed. “Wait a second.”

Matt tilted his head toward her. “Uh-oh.”

She sat up a little. “So… technically, you’re five years older than me now?”

He blinked. “That’s what you’re choosing to focus on right now?”

“It’s a valid question,” she insisted, grinning. “I married a man my age, not some grizzled thirty-something.”

He scoffed. “Grizzled?”

“I mean, I don’t see any grey hairs, but-”

“I’m blind, not deaf. I heard that smirk.”

She tried to hold back a laugh. Failed. “So you’re like… what, thirty-eight?”

“Thirty-seven,” he corrected flatly.

“Oh no. I married an older man.”

Matt deadpanned, “And I married a time traveler. Guess we’re even.”

She bumped her shoulder into his. “You gonna start calling me ‘kid’ now?”

He turned toward her, a slow smirk tugging at his mouth. “Only if you want to see how fast a five-year age gap doesn’t matter.”

Her face flushed. “Okay, grandpa.”

Matt groaned. “Regret. Immediate regret.”

She laughed, leaning back into him again, warm and solid and finally, finally real.

“Still married me,” she said, smug.

“Still would,” he replied, without hesitation.

And that shut her up for a minute.

[lilacgaby]

title: family matters

pairing(s): husband!toji x reader, son!megumi x reader

summary: megumi wakes up with a nightmare, toji doesn't want to move, so he solves his own problem.

your face was smushed up against toji's chest as you slept deeply. your arm slung around his waist and your legs tangled in his as you breathed him in.

he was awake though, playing with your hair as he let the sounds of your muffled sighs against his chest and the white noise of the fan slowly drift him to sleep...

until the sound of the door creaking made him jump slightly, quickly moving to soothe you in case he startled you.

megumi shuffled in, rubbing his eyes as he walked to the corner of the bed. "dad?"

toji sighed as he layed his head over to look at him, you usually handled this kind of stuff since he felt awkward. "what is it kid?"

"i'm scared." megumi admitted, his voice sounding choked like he'd already been crying.

"y' all right. we're right here 'gumi, so there's nothing to worry about." toji comforted, having his full attention on megumi. he reached his hand out to hold his shoulder and shook it.

"nothing will happen to you or your mom as long as im here. got it?"

megumi sniffled and shook his head in a nod. "'kay.. but can you come tuck me in?" he asked, grabbing toji's arm in a pulling motion.

"no way kid. your mom is sleeping right on top of me, and 'm not moving 'til she wakes."

"dadd." he whined, tugging his arm with all his might to try and get him to move. "you have to, it's what mom does!"

he knew it well, how you'd immediately get out of bed any night he came to lay in his and soothe him to sleep, most nights he'd wake up alone and find you holding megumi as you slept in his bed.

"well i'm not your mother. you're a big kid already, you can do it yourself."

"but i want you to do ittt." he started to shake his arm, which was jostling you in return.

"hey stop it kid, ya wanna wake your mom up?"

"nooo. hurry up!" he said, finally letting go and stomping his feet.

"i'm not moving kid, so tough luck."

megumi pouted and decided to..

flip him over. as he started shoving toji over with all his might, you obviously fell under him first. with toji's weight completely on you, you woke up disoriented and confused.

megumi, now with a bunch of room for himself, jumped in and held your arm to his chest, smiling victoriously.

"what-- what's going on?"

"this brat is so stubborn, he's just like you. go back to sleep."

"huh..?" you were being lifted up by toji and so was megumi. he settled you in the middle with him and megumi at your sides.

"good night. don't say i don't love you brat."

you fell asleep confused but comfortable, and megumi only stuck his tongue out at toji before going back to sleep with you.

toji was now playing with your hair while watching over the two of you, the sight of your chests rising and falling with every breath you took comforting him.

he hung his arm around you, holding your hand. laying his head on yours, he placed a hand on megumi's hair, ruffling it slightly.

his heart felt warm as he fell asleep, dreaming of you. oh and his son was there too.

he woke up to the sounds of rustling as megumi woke up, early as possible. he started to tap on your shoulder until toji moved his hand away from you groggily.

"what?"

"i'm hungry."

"for crying out loud kid, no!"

...

he got up to make pancakes for you three, extra whipped cream for megumi as he handed them out.

megumi was sat in your lap happily munching away as you paired yours with a cup of coffee, still half asleep.

toji ruffled megumi's hair, making him let out a small "hey!" as he moved over to kiss you, making megumi scrunch up his face.

toji moved to sit beside you at the counter, his hand supporting his head as he looked over at you two.

"you're a headache y'know that?"

"don't be mean to mom." megumi said, his mouth full.

"i wasn't talking about her, kid!