#Foggy Lullaby

[hearthspeaker]

I love you thunderstorm lullabies. I love you foggy mornings. I love you misty days. I love you birds playing in puddles. I love you raindrop-bejeweled blades of grass. I love you cool breeze.

[natsaffection]

THIS IDEA MIGHT BE HELLAA ASS but we’re stull pushing through👏👏

So basically the team could be heading back from a mission and stuff. And reader could just be like incredibly exhausted, laying across a few of the many seats of the jet. Reader was minding her business, on the verge of sleeping. But soon felt a weight on her stomach, specifically where a large dark bruise resided as her breath was knocked from her . Soon enough, reader realizes it’s Natasha on top of her, making reader squirm and argue because there was way more open seats surrounding them and Natasha had to sit on her. But unbeknownst to reader, that was Natasha’s way of trying to court / flirt with her.

Ends w/ smut? G!p Natasha is the way to go😼

-💋

Footage. | N.R

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI!, G!P Natasha, Teasing, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), unprotected Sex, filming, multiple orgasm

Word count: 4,1k

A/n: *sending this my gf. What?

The mission had been grueling. The team was physically and mentally exhausted as they made their way back to the quinjet. The adrenaline that had fueled them during the intense combat was now rapidly draining, leaving behind only fatigue. You trudged up the ramp of the quinjet, your limbs heavy and your mind foggy with exhaustion. You found an empty row of seats toward the back and collapsed onto them, stretching out across the length of the seats. The cool material of the seat against your cheek was a welcome comfort as you closed your eyes, your body finally starting to relax.

The gentle hum of the quinjet's engines as they powered up for takeoff was like a lullaby, lulling you toward the edges of sleep. Your muscles unwound, and you allowed yourself to sink deeper into the comfort of the seats, the noises of the team settling in around you fading into the background. But just as you were on the verge of slipping into unconsciousness, you felt a sudden pressure on your midsection. The breath was forced from your lungs as something, or rather someone, planted themselves firmly on top of you. Your eyes snapped open, and you let out a small, startled gasp, struggling to inhale as you squirmed beneath the unexpected weight.

Looking up, you found yourself staring into the mischievous green eyes of Natasha. She had straddled your hips, her full weight pressing down, an amused smirk playing on her lips as she watched your reaction. “N-Natasha!” you managed to wheeze out, still trying to catch your breath. You squirmed beneath the spy, trying to shift her into a more comfortable position, but Natasha only leaned in further, making it even harder for you to move.

“What are you doing!?” you asked, your voice breathless, half from the pressure on your lungs and half from the proximity of Natasha’s face to your own. Natasha chuckled softly, her breath warm against your skin. “You looked too comfortable.” she teased, her smirk widening as she shifted her position slightly, causing you to squirm even more. “Can’t have you getting too relaxed, can we?”

You glared up at her, though the effect was somewhat diminished by the flush creeping up your cheeks. “You’re crushing me!” you protested, but there was no real heat in your words. If anything, there was a certain warmth in your tone, a softness that you rarely showed. Natasha’s gaze softened slightly as she looked down at you, though the playful glint in her eyes remained. “Maybe I just wanted a more comfortable seat..” she replied, her tone light but with a hint of something deeper beneath it. You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “And you thought I’d make a good cushion??”

“Best seat in the house.” Natasha quipped. You tried to shift again, a little more forcefully this time, but Natasha didn’t budge. You gave her an exasperated look, your brow furrowing slightly as you pointedly glanced around the quinjet. “There are plenty of other seats, Natasha. You really don’t have to sit on me!”

Natasha tilted her head slightly, her smirk deepening as she looked around the empty seats, then back at you. “I know.” she replied casually, clearly aware of the open space around them. She adjusted her position slightly, pressing her weight down a bit more, which made you squirm beneath her again. “But none of them looked as inviting as this one.” You groaned, trying to push Natasha off with more determination this time. “I’m not a chair, Romanoff..”

Natasha chuckled softly, her voice taking on a teasing lilt. “Could’ve fooled me. You're warm, soft, and..” She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. “Very comfortable.” You were about to retort when you suddenly froze, feeling something pressing against your thigh. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt Natasha’s anatomy during your close moments, but this time, it was.. different. Your eyes widened slightly as you realized what it meant. Natasha was hard. The pressure against your thigh was firmer than usual, unmistakable, and the realization sent a jolt of surprise and something else through you.

You gasped softly, your breath hitching in your throat as you looked up at Natasha, searching her face for any sign that she was aware of what you had just noticed. But Natasha’s expression was still playful, her smirk firmly in place, though there was an added intensity in her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“N-Natasha..” you whispered, your voice tinged with surprise and uncertainty. “You’re..you’re-” Natasha’s smirk widened, her eyes darkening with a mixture of amusement and desire. “Yes?” she prompted, clearly enjoying the effect she was having on you. You swallowed hard, your mind racing as you tried to process what was happening. “You..like this?”

Natasha’s gaze softened slightly, though her playful demeanor remained. “Maybe you’re just more comfortable than you think.” she teased, her voice low and smooth as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. Your heart pounded in your chest, your body caught between the overwhelming sensation of Natasha’s presence and the confusion swirling in your thoughts. “I didn’t think..I mean, I didn’t realize..” you stammered, your face flushing with embarrassment and a hint of something more.

Natasha chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through your chest. “Didn’t realize what?” she asked, her voice a low purr. “That being close to you does things to me?” You felt a shiver run down your spine at Natasha’s words, the implications of her tone sending your mind spinning. “I just..I didn’t know you felt that way.” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly as you looked up at Natasha, trying to gauge her intentions. Natasha’s smirk softened into a more genuine smile, though there was still a playful glint in her eyes. “I think you’ve been too busy trying to keep your distance to notice.”

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to keep my distance!” you said. “Weren’t you?” Natasha asked, her voice soft but probing. “You’ve always seemed a little..hesitant. Like you’re afraid to get too close.” You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. You hadn’t realized it yourself, but Natasha was right..you had been holding back, keeping a certain distance between you even though you didn’t fully understand why. Natasha’s expression softened even more as she saw the uncertainty in your eyes. “You don’t have to be afraid.” she said gently, her voice filled with sincerity. “I’m not going to push you into anything you’re not ready for.”

You swallowed hard, your thoughts swirling as you tried to make sense of your emotions. Despite the initial shock, there was a part of you that was undeniably intrigued, even..excited by this new revelation. “I’m not..afraid.” you finally admitted, “Just..surprised.”

Natasha smiled, a genuine, warm smile that reached her eyes. “Good.” she said softly, her thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “Because I don’t want you to be scared. I want you to feel safe..and wanted.” Your heart swelled at Natasha’s words, the sincerity in her voice cutting through the confusion and fear. You could see now that Natasha wasn’t just teasing you, there was real emotion behind her actions, a desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for some time. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you looked up at Natasha. “I do feel safe with you.” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “And..maybe more than that.”

Natasha’s eyes softened, her smile widening slightly as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your lips. “Good.” she murmured, her voice filled with a mix of affection and desire. “Because I’ve been waiting for you to realize that.”

As the flight continued, Natasha stayed exactly where she was, never giving you a chance to fully relax. Her fingers would occasionally brush along your arm, or her hips would shift just enough to make you painfully aware of Natasha’s arousal pressing against you. Each teasing touch sent jolts through you, making you bite your lip to stifle any sound that might escape. “Natasha..” you groaned, your body tense as you tried to subtly push Natasha off without drawing the attention of the rest of the team. “You’re doing this on purpose..”

Natasha leaned down, her lips almost brushing your ear as she whispered back, “Maybe. Does it bother you?” You swallowed hard, your mind and body at war. “You’re going to make me lose my mind!” you muttered, a mixture of frustration and something dangerously close to desire coloring your tone. Natasha chuckled softly, her breath warm against your skin. “That’s the idea.”

The rest of the flight was an agonizing mix of teasing touches and unspoken tension. Your heart pounded in your chest, your mind spinning with the knowledge of what Natasha was doing and what it meant. You tried to maintain your composure, but every time Natasha’s hand brushed against your skin or she shifted her hips, it became harder and harder to keep your cool. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the quinjet touched down at the Avengers compound. The team began to unbuckle and prepare to disembark, the exhaustion from the mission weighing on everyone except, it seemed, Natasha..

As the others filed out of the quinjet, Natasha finally lifted herself off of you, giving you a smirk that was full of promise. You sat up, trying to catch your breath, your mind still reeling from the intense flight. But as you stood to follow the others out, you heard the soft click of the quinjet door closing behind you. You turned around, your heart skipping a beat as you saw Natasha standing there, blocking the exit, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak.

“Natasha…” you started, your voice trailing off as you realized exactly what was about to happen. Her smirk widened, her eyes dark with intent. “I think it’s time we finished what we started.” she said, her voice low and filled with the promise of what was to come. Your breath caught in your throat, a mix of anticipation and nervousness flooding your senses. You knew exactly what Natasha wanted..what she had been teasing you with throughout the flight and there was no escaping it now. Not that you wanted to.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped toward Natasha, your heart pounding as you closed the distance between you. “You’re relentless, you know that?” you murmured. Natasha’s eyes softened just a fraction as she reached out to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing lightly across your skin. “Only when it’s something I really want.”

You leaned into Natasha’s touch, your resolve finally breaking as you allowed yourself to fully embrace the feelings you had been trying to suppress. “And what do you want?” you whispered, already knowing the answer. Natasha’s lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile. “You.”

With that, Natasha closed the remaining distance between you, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. You melted into the kiss, all the tension and teasing from the flight finally giving way to the overwhelming connection between you. “Nat, we’re still in the jet..” you whispered urgently, your voice shaky with a mix of nervousness and desire. “There are cameras..Anyone could see this.”

Natasha paused, her lips hovering just above your skin as she met your gaze with a mischievous smile. “I know.” she replied, her voice low and laced with amusement. “That’s part of the fun.” Your eyes widened further, your heart pounding as you tried to process Natasha’s words. “You’re not serious..” you breathed, though you could see in Natasha’s eyes that she very much was.

Natasha let out a soft, sultry laugh, her hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Dead serious.” she whispered, her thumb brushing lightly across your lips. “I can watch it over and over again, anytime I want.”

Before you could say anything else, Natasha’s hands were on you again, pushing you gently but firmly back onto the seats. You let out a soft gasp as you felt the cool leather against your back again, your pulse quickening as Natasha climbed on top of you, her body pressing you down into the seat. Her hands moved with deliberate slowness, her fingers tracing teasing patterns along your body, making you squirm beneath her touch. “Relax..” Natasha whispered, her voice like velvet as her fingers slid under your shirt, brushing against your skin. “I’m going to make you feel good. Just let me.”

Your breath hitched as Natasha’s touch grew bolder, her fingers dancing across your stomach before moving lower. “N-Nat..” you breathed, your voice a mix of anticipation and need, as Natasha’s hand slid between your thighs, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. Natasha smiled down at you, her eyes dark with desire as she leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss. As your lips moved together, Natasha’s fingers began to tease you through your clothes, drawing soft moans from you as you arched into the touch.

Breaking the kiss, Natasha pulled back slightly, her eyes locking with yours as she continued her teasing. “You’re so responsive..” she murmured, her voice filled with admiration as she watched you writhe beneath her. “I love how you react to me.” Your cheeks flushed, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps as Natasha’s hand moved with increasing intensity. “Nat, please..” you whispered, your voice filled with desperation as you felt the tension building inside you.

Natasha’s smile turned predatory as she pulled back, her hands moving to quickly remove your pants, leaving you bare and exposed to the cool air of the jet. You shivered, a mix of anticipation and vulnerability washing over you as Natasha spread your thighs apart, her gaze hungry as she took in the sight of you. Without another word, Natasha lowered herself between your legs, her breath warm against your skin as she placed soft, teasing kisses along your inner thighs. Your breath hitched, your body trembling with need as Natasha’s lips moved closer to where you craved her touch the most.

Finally, Natasha’s mouth found its target, and you let out a sharp gasp as you felt Natasha’s tongue flick against you, the sensation sending a bolt of pleasure through your body. Natasha’s hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as she began to work her tongue with expert precision, her every movement calculated to drive you closer to the edge. Your head fell back against the seat, your hands gripping the edge of the seat as you struggled to stay grounded in the overwhelming waves of pleasure that Natasha was pulling from you. “Natasha..!” you moaned, your voice a breathless plea as Natasha’s tongue moved faster, each stroke bringing you closer to the release you desperately needed.

Natasha hummed in response, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through you as she continued her relentless assault. Your body tensed, your back arching as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, the intensity of the moment nearly too much to bear. With a final, precise movement of her tongue, Natasha pushed you over the edge, and you cried out as the orgasm crashed over you, your body trembling uncontrollably. Natasha didn’t stop, her tongue continuing to move, drawing out every last bit of your release until you were left breathless and spent.

As you lay there, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, Natasha finally pulled back, her lips glistening as she looked up at you with a satisfied smile. “You taste even better than I imagined..” she murmured, as she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. You blushed deeply, your heart still racing as you looked down at Natasha, unable to form coherent words in the aftermath of what had just happened. But Natasha wasn’t done. She rose slowly, her hands sliding up your legs as she came to hover over you, her eyes dark with renewed desire.

“You’re not getting away that easily.” Natasha whispered, her voice husky as she began to undress herself. “We’re just getting started.” Your eyes widened as you watched Natasha, your breath catching in your throat as the redhead’s clothes fell away, revealing her toned, beautiful body. You knew exactly what Natasha intended to do next, and the anticipation sent another wave of heat through you, reigniting the desire that had barely begun to fade.

“f-fuck-” you started, but the words died in your throat as Natasha leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that left no room for doubt. Natasha’s hands were everywhere, touching, teasing, and claiming your body with an intensity that left you breathless. As Natasha positioned herself between your legs, you felt a mix of nervousness and overwhelming desire.

Natasha broke the kiss, her eyes locking onto yours as she whispered, “You’re mine. And I’m going to make sure you know it.” With that, Natasha pushed forward, entering you with a slow, deliberate motion that made you gasp. Natasha’s eyes never left yours, the connection between you deep and intense as your bodies finally came together. Your hands gripped Natasha’s shoulders, your nails digging into her skin as you moaned softly, the sensation of Natasha filling you overwhelming your senses. Natasha moved with purpose, each thrust calculated to bring you higher, your bodies moving together in perfect sync.

The intensity of the moment built quickly, each movement driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your moans filled the cabin, your body responding to Natasha’s every touch, every thrust, as you felt yourself spiraling toward another climax. Natasha’s breathing grew more ragged, her control slipping as she felt herself nearing the edge as well. “Fuck! Y/n..” she gasped, her voice filled with a mix of desperation and adoration as she thrust deeper, harder, chasing the release she knew you both craved.

Your body tensed, your muscles tightening as the pressure built to an almost unbearable level. With a final, deep thrust, Natasha pushed you both over the edge, and you cried out as the orgasm tore through you, your body convulsing in pleasure as Natasha followed you over the edge, your bodies trembling together in the aftermath. As the waves of pleasure slowly subsided, Natasha collapsed onto you, her breath coming in heavy gasps as she pressed her forehead against yours, your bodies still entwined. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the cabin your ragged breathing as you both came down from the high of your shared release.

Finally, Natasha lifted her head, her eyes soft as she looked down at you, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. “You’re amazing, you know that?” she whispered, her voice filled with affection as she brushed a strand of hair away from your face. You smiled weakly, your body still tingling from the intensity of what had just happened. “You’re not so bad yourself..” you murmuredas you try to catch your breath.

Natasha’s expression shifted, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes as she seemed to consider something. Without warning, Natasha moved, pulling you up and turning you so you were on your hands and knees, your body facing one of the cameras mounted in the corner of the jet. You gasped at the sudden movement, your heart racing as you realized what Natasha intended. “W-Wait, no, no, you wont..!”

Natasha didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she ran her hands down your back, admiring the way you shivered under her touch. “You’re going to look so beautiful in this footage..” Natasha murmured, her voice low and filled with anticipation. “I want to capture every moment..every reaction.”

Your breath hitched, your pulse quickening as you felt Natasha’s hands grip your hips firmly. You could feel Natasha’s arousal against you, and the idea of what was about to happen sent a thrill through you. “Y-You’re really going to-”

“Watch it over and over again,” Natasha finished for you, her tone dark with desire. “I want to see this from every angle, to remember how you looked when you’re mine.” With that, Natasha didn’t waste any more time. She positioned herself behind you, her hands gripping your hips tightly as she entered you from behind with one smooth, deliberate motion. You moaned loudly, your head dropping forward as Natasha filled you, the intensity of the sensation overwhelming your senses.

She reached forward, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head up, forcing you to look directly into the camera. The position left you feeling both vulnerable and completely exposed, but the knowledge that Natasha would be watching this moment over and over again sent a new wave of heat through you.

“Look at the camera..” Natasha whispered, her voice a low growl. “I want you to see exactly what I’m doing to you.” Your eyes locked onto the camera lens, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as Natasha began to move, each thrust deliberate and powerful, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. The pull on your hair kept your head in place, forcing you to watch yourself as Natasha took you, the sight only adding to the intensity of the moment.

Natasha’s pace quickened, her grip on your hair tightening as she thrust deeper, each movement calculated to bring you to the brink of another climax. “You look so perfect like this..!” Natasha murmured, her voice filled with satisfaction as she watched your reactions. “You’re mine..mine to touch, to take, to watch, fuck!”

Your body trembled with the force of Natasha’s thrusts, your moans growing louder as you felt yourself spiraling toward another release. The combination of Natasha’s roughness, the pull on your hair, and the knowledge that this moment would be replayed over and over again was too much. The tension in your body built quickly, reaching a fever pitch as Natasha’s movements became more urgent, more demanding.

“Come for me.” Natasha growled, her voice dark and commanding as she thrust harder, her eyes never leaving your reflection in the camera. “I want to see you fall apart.”

With one final, deep thrust, you were pushed over the edge, a scream tearing from your throat as the orgasm ripped through you, your body shaking uncontrollably. Natasha kept moving, prolonging the sensation, her own breath ragged as she chased her own release. Natasha’s grip on your hair tightened as she thrust one last time, her body shuddering as she followed you over the edge, your moans mingling together in the air as you both found your release.

As the intensity of the moment began to fade, Natasha slowly loosened her grip on your hair, letting your head fall forward as you caught your breath. You collapsed onto the seat, your body spent and trembling from the overwhelming experience. Natasha leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your back as she whispered, “You were perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

You smiled weakly, your body still tingling from the aftershocks of your orgasm. “I can’t believe you’re going to watch that..” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. Natasha chuckled softly, her hand gently caressing your back. “Every chance I get.” she replied, her voice filled with satisfaction. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.”

Your heart swelled at Natasha’s words, a sense of warmth and belonging washing over you as you lay there, completely spent and utterly content. Despite the intensity of what had just happened, you knew that you were safe, that Natasha would never let anyone see this but her. With one final kiss to your back, Natasha slowly pulled away, gathering you into her arms as you lay together on the seat, your bodies entwined as you came down from the high of your shared release.

As you lay there, basking in the aftermath of your passion, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that this was just the beginning of something new and exciting between you..a connection that would only grow stronger with time. And as for the footage..well, you knew that you’d probably never look at the quinjet the same way again.

[agi-ppangx]

ᯓ★ alone together

ᝰ hwang hyunjin x gn!reader

ᝰ wc: 569

ᝰ an: i wrote it a few weeks ago when i wasnt feeling too well and then i listened to alone together by fall out boy and boom! i wrote this fic :3 i hope you'll like it, please remember to leave feedback !!<3

you didn’t know what time it was when you finally entered your flat. you only knew it was late - too late for your liking. letting out a loud sigh you kicked off your shoes, not caring about putting them neatly on the shelf. you only dreamed of going to sleep so the day could finally be over. 

it’d been too much lately - the voices in your head got louder again and your boss had been acting like a complete bitch, making your life miserable and leaving you feeling like a failure. you were overworked and overwhelmed and you could only take so much before breaking down completely.

you dragged your lifeless body to the bathroom, stripping down of your work attire and letting the warm stream of shower water rinse the exhaustion and ache from your muscles. you didn’t bother doing your skincare - with your state, you were proud of yourself for just showering and every other thing seemed like too much of a hustle in that moment. leaving the bathroom, you felt a sting in the corner of your eyes and you let the tears fall down your cheeks, thinking it could be best. after all, even clouds cry when they feel too heavy. 

you entered your bedroom with a foggy sight, not entirely aware of your surroundings, so when you heard a quiet groan you wiped your eyes, scanning the room in confusion.

“hyune?” you asked in a small voice, finally acknowledging that your fiancé was home. he hummed softly, not saying anything and it confused you even more. “baby, what are you doing here? i thought you were staying at changbin’s tonight?”

hyunjin shook his head, burying his face deep into the pillow, and you brought your hand to his hair, threading your fingers through his dishevelled locks. you took your time to massage his scalp and hyunjin seemed to visibly relax under your touch, finally looking up at you.

“why are you crying?” he whispered with worry, ignoring your question. he stretched out his arms and invited you into his embrace which you gladly accepted without a word. his strong arms wrapped around your body, creating a shelter for you and your messy thoughts. “bad day?” hyunjin added, placing a gentle peck at your temple. 

“yeah,” your voice was small and weak as you replied, the tears starting to fall again. “you too?”

“yeah.” 

there was no need for further explanation. without a word, you snuggled closer into hyunjin’s chest, hearing his heartbeat - your favourite lullaby. the silence filled the room, the only things that could be heard were your quiet sniffles and hyunjin’s heavy breathing as he tried to calm himself down. suddenly, a wave of guilt filled your body. you looked up at your fiancé, the sight of his troubled expression making your heart sink. 

“i’m sorry i can’t help you right now,” you said, your voice barely above the whisper. hyunjin shook his head, closing his eyes.

“it’s okay, you’re hurting too. we can be two troubled souls together until we are ready to help each other, yeah?”

you nodded weakly, more tears spilling from your puffy eyes, and hyunjin was quick to wipe them from your face. you leaned to kiss him and he didn’t protest. it was messy, just like your minds at that moment, but neither of you seemed to care as you found comfort in each other’s arms. 

ᝰ taglist: @astraystayyh @laylasbunbunny @l3visbby @like-a-diamondinthesky @hanjsquokka @xichien @inniescandy-01

[bluerosefox]

The Flow of Time

Hmmm *has done a lot of deaged Danny prompts/ideas*

Let's shake things up a bit shall we???

Deaged Tim!

Tim, or rather Red Robin, was turned into a child Ra's (to steal and raise him as his evil heir)

And as he's about to be saved by the Bats. He hears what was sound of a ticking clock before he begins to fall.

And he tumbled and fell like Alice falling into Wonderland.

-x-x-

"CW what did you do?" A tired voice asked

"What I had to. Should I had left him there, they would had failed and he would had lead his world from the shadows under the false Immortal's teachings....A world does not need be in ruin to be on its path of horror and destruction, Daniel." Came the response.

"Ancients..." swore the other voice under their breath.

"Raise him well and in due time his once family will find him again. He will awaken confused and questioning, his past foggy to a point in his mind. Just make sure he is ready for it. The flow of time between worlds can be both kind and cruel." We're the words said.

"Clockwork wait! What does that-"

That was all Tim heard as he tried to wake up, but he quickly fell back asleep when a hand gently petted his head, snuggled and bundled up in a dark purple cloak and the sounds of ticking clocks all around him worked like a strange lullaby.

When he woke up next, Tim found himself in a small bedroom, a guest room that once been someone's actual bedroom judging from the glow in the dark stars still on the ceiling above. But it seemed to had been turned into a spare room for guests from how there wasn't anything else personal in the room besides basic stuff.

Tim, confused and wondering where he was and how he got there jumped when he heard the door open and meet the eyes of a young adult with black hair and blue eyes.

"Hello Tim, good to see you're awake. My name is Danny Fenton and... Welcome to my worlds version of Earth I guess."

[coeurify]

repost the period vampire ellie fic!

middle of the night,, vamp!ellie

a/n: this is a repost from early this year so excuse any change in writing style!

warnings: vampire!ellie. period sex. oral!r receiving fingering!r receiving. sort of a dreamy, less modern vibe. if u aren’t into it.. just don’t read it.

˚✦　.　　. 　  ˚　.　 . ✦　˚　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

Some times--Most times, you only saw her at night. When darkness enveloped the small town you called home, when the stars rocked the sleepy eyed humans to sleep and the moon hummed the lullaby that quieted the crickets outside, she came.

Only then did you ever hear the distinct creaking of the splitting wood on your window panes being pressed up. Only then did the white of your sheer curtains move with more than the wind, the grip of the air nothing compared to the long hand that often wrapped around the fabric and pushed it open. When the moon was the only light filtering into your room, you saw the green of her eyes.

Tonight was no different, despite one little issue. Often, the woman who visited you under the cover of midnight would arrive to your eyes closed in sleep. She would press a hand to your warm cheek before waking you, greeted by your sleepy excitement each time.

This time, you had not been able to sleep. A heat had taken over your body, tight in your stomach with a pain you would compare to that of claws gnawing at your insides. Sweat beaded between your brows with every swift turn under your uncomfortable sheets, lip tugged between your frustrated teeth to stop any whines of discomfort. That had been what your favorite visitor heard as her shaking palms found the wood of your window. Your pained grunts floated through her buzzing ears as she quietly made her way into your room, auburn hair messy behind her ears as her figure became visible, head tilted as she looked across the room to your heated body.

“El,” you whined, wiping your forehead with a hand, not at all concerned about her chosen point of entry. “Go away.”

Ellie’s gaze softened, a scoff sounding from behind your squeezed shut eyes. “Go away?” she mused, her voice much closer now.

The split second your eyes had been closed, Ellie had somehow silently made it to your bedside. You don't question it, you never do.

When a girl like Ellie sports small fangs and a taste for blood, her speed is the last thing you think to question.

“I don't feel well, don’t want you here.” you add, mouth pulled into pout as you look up at the freckled face of Ellie.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, bunny? Instead of shooing me away,” Ellie requests, sitting on the edge of your bed. Her cold hand finds your sweaty arm, sighing. “You’re burning up.”

Your neck tickles with heat as Ellie questions your current state, and you fall wordless. Somehow, it was more embarrassing to admit to your vampire visitor that you were starting your period than to simply tell her to leave. Obviously however, Ellie was not taking the second option as a valid answer.

“I started my period, nothing is helpin’ the cramps,” you explain softly, pressing your hand into the sheets of your bed to try and sit, to maybe find some sort of relief to the growing tension in your stomach. But the other set of hands is faster.

“Lay down,” Ellie insists, glancing down at you. You can almost see the cogs of her brain turning behind the evergreen in her eyes, a sort of fogginess settling over the color.

“Let me help you,” she eventually says.

“What? I told you nothi-”

Ellie presses her lips together to hush you, one wandering hand finding the dip of your hip, blunt nail tracing the goosebump coated flesh there. Sometimes she liked being so cold, simply because she enjoyed seeing how you reacted to it. If she was damned for what she was, she may as well use some of it to her advantage.

“What are you doing?” You couldn't help the shiver that followed her movements.

Suddenly your mouth feels dry, tongue unable to wet the plump fat of your lip. The scratching in your throat finds no comfort when you swallow, only further irritating your vocal chords. A choked noise finds the heavy bedroom air as fingers tug at your cotton shorts.

“Helping you,” Ellie repeats, her own mouth much more wet than yours. Even in the dim light of the moon you can see the glistening dew on her parted lips. Usually the look she currently wears is saved only for when her pearly teeth find the sensitive and already scarred skin of your neck. Not for.. this.

Your hands immediately slap to your heated cheeks. “Oh my god Ellie, no fucking way.”

The vampire, who had now moved below you on the bed, hums in disagreement to your little show of kicking feet, a hand too strong to be that of a human halting all movements.

“We always have fun when I come over,” The freckles of her face disappear as she glances down, fully pulling down your shorts.

“Not when I’m on my period,” you hiss quietly, the words feeling cracked and embarrassed as they leave your mouth. You could deny the growing arousal in your belly simply by how *mortified* you felt. Even with the churning feeling of deeply settled embarrassment, you make no further moves to stop Ellie. Not as the shorts fall to the floor with a dull thump.

“It’ll help,” Ellie soothes, the near frigid temperature of her hand calming the heat that rises on the skin of your legs. “Haven’t you heard things like this help with cramps?”

The words that are spoken almost teasingly fall upon deaf ears as her wet lips press right above your knee. “Please,” the auburn haired girl whispers, sounding a lot more breathy than before. “Please, let me taste you. Let me make you feel better. ”

Ellie had a tendency to become a little less cold, figuratively at least, when she found her body nestled between your own. The unwavering voice you had grown oh so accustomed to always slid into a more mushy sounding version whenever it got intimate. Today, it seemed even worse. The words dripped with the sweet sounds of neediness, a sound that tasted sweet on your tongue, which swiped nervously over your dry lips.

“El..” Another kiss pressed further up the flesh of your warm thigh broke any following denial. “Fuck..” your chin wobbles, almost too embarrassed to actually say your following words, “Yea. Please help.”

You were sure if you believed something was watching down on you from the sky, it was with horror. Some people may call what Ellie was doing sinful. The angels in the clouds would shrilly gasp as fingers wrapped around your panties and tugged them and everything else from your bottom half, tossing them into the growing pile of clothes. Her shirt came next, the simple white cloth acted as something to watch as it pulled off of her chest, likely to avoid any mess. Some may call the sight of her dipping down again, green eyes looking up at your quivering lip, sinful. Maybe it was, surely the mewl you made when her lips found the heated flesh of your inner thigh was. But if you had to describe it, that wasn't the word you would use. You may even swear it was heavenly.

“Relax,” Ellie drawled, spreading your thighs further apart, despite the slight tremble to them. “I’ve got you, don't worry,” her voice soothed you enough to tilt your head back against the pillow, squeezing your eyes closed. The embarrassment simmered low in your belly, even more so when you could feel the arousal that dripped from you, which your vampire visitor had no problem pointing out. “So wet for me,” she groaned, lips still refusing to find home anywhere other than your thighs. Teeth sharper than your own nipped at the skin there, bucking your hips up. “You want this, don’t you?”

It was an obvious request for another confirmation of what was to come, but your chest felt too tight to reply, no air finding your lungs the moment her breath hovered over your pulsing core. “Tell me you want it,” she requests again, voice dipping into a softer territory again, searching for your approval. Her resolve was cracking however, jaw clicking as she tried her best not to dive straight into where she craved to be.

“I do,” you whine, eyes still closed as you answered, words met with the quick and overwhelming feeling of her tongue pressing flat against your wet center. You couldn’t think too hard about the fact she was doing this right now, not when the sharp gasp had come from two mouths instead of one, a quick call of, “Fuck,” from only you this time followed. Ellie had no words, not as her tongue made another long stripe up your pussy, going much slower than you liked. It led one small roll of your hips down into her, a sign for what you searched for.

It resulted in a hand gripping your hip, pressing you further down into the mattress, ceasing any attempt to control the movements. Her mouth pressed further into you, licking at the same excruciatingly slow pace, seemingly taking her time to enjoy the taste she found between your thighs. “El,” you gasp, eyes fluttering open to glance down at her. However her eyes were closed, another press further into you came, her nose bumping your clit as she licked into you. The rush it brings is almost enough to completely paint over the lingering cramping in your stomach.

The dizzying mixture of pain and pleasure seeps into your bones, making you feel too heavy to do much else than move a hand to find Eliie’s hair, fingers tangling between the auburn strands. You tried again to guide her movements, but she was much stronger than you, paying little mind to the shaky hand that tugged at her locks.

“Taste so fuckin..” she sucked in a breath, unable to keep from dipping back into your folds, humming. “So fuckin’ good,” she finishes, words reverberating against your throbbing core. It had you trying to squirm, held down by the stone light weight of Ellie’s grip. The deeper she licked, the more you fought against her. Your body ached the do something.. anything to find comfort in the overwhelming feeling of her still slow pace. The fingers in her hair tugged again, finding a low groan in response.

The air of the room had already been heavy on your feverish skin, but now it was nearing a state of unbearably humid. Every time Ellie’s tongue made a particularly aimed movement you felt another round of fire straight in the mess that was your clenching core. It all felt so heightened, so much better. The sticky feeling on your skin did not slow either of you down, and you had little care for the sweat beading on your flesh. Not when your favorite girl’s lips were doing such mind numbing things to you.

Had you told your past self, even that of just an hour ago, that you would have allowed it to happen.. They would have laughed in your heated face. The past version of you would have sworn up and down, prayed up to the mysterious sky, that this would never happen. But now- now you have no room for denial or regret. Your mind was becoming too cloudy to house thoughts of shame, questions of if this was right. Because it felt right. The slick sound of Ellie’s mouth against you sounded right, as did your little huffs and puffs that you couldn't hide. The cramps had subsided in tandem with the tightening band in you. But you needed more, and you were gone past a point of being embarrassed to ask for it.

“I need..” you try to speak, but Ellie’s lips wrapping around your clit is the cause of the death of the forming words. A jolt of your hips is one finally strong enough to rupture the heavy hold of the vampire’s hand. Your lame attempt at a command did not go unheard by Ellie, who for the first time since this began, pulled herself away from your cunt. Her eyes darted up, looking to meet your own. But you were far too focused on something else. Her lips were glassy with your wetness, which she licked without a second thought. But the usual clear sheen that you had been no stranger to seeing on her face was more of a rosy color, a stark reminder of the reason this had begun in the first place. The slight tint of red smeared onto her chin, across the corners of her mouth, and it was oh so addicting to see. You felt no lingering shame, no shiver of disgust. Instead it made you feel even more desperate to have her against you again, but first you had to listen to her speaking. “Need what, babe?”

The urge to simply shove her face right back into your cunt flipped through the pages of scenarios in your head, but the moonlight that painted the side of your lover’s face, illuminating the red paintbrush stroke of you, had you a little too separate to risk such a bratty action.

“I need more, El. Need to cum,” you manage to whine, one light push of her head to prove your point. Ellie dipped her head down again, pressing small kisses to your sticky inner thighs. “Just love taking my time with you,” she muttered, a few more pecks planted on you were a search for forgiveness, one you graciously accepted with a loud moan when the lips finally found your clit again.

Ellie seemed to take your beg to heart, the hand that held your hip slowly dipping between your thighs. Her searching fingers met just below her chin, one long digit sliding over your slit, teasing the weeping hole with a slight press. The air feels like it has been punched from your lungs when the finger sinks into you, just as evil as her mouth as it curls into you the exact moment her lips suck a little harder. You were sure she was looking to torture you with how slowly the finger pumped in and out, working and exploring around your walls that gripped around her so tightly.

You had always heard the mythical vampire was sadistic. Ellie had never been much of that, but with ever slow movement into your aching cunt, you began to believe the whispers. Your head turned lightly to stare at the open window, the stars that dipped in the night sky were surely spotlighting your body splayed out on the bed, the auburn haired vampire between your thighs was quite the show for all the celestial beings up in the night air, every single being held its breath and watched on, you were sure of it. You didn't blame the stars, or the moon, or whatever else may have their attention focused on this tantalizing sight. If you could, you would float right out of your body to watch on yourself.

Surely you looked a mess, chest heaving with the heat of the air, with the heat of Ellie. Your limbs shook just lightly, your fingers knotted your companions hair, the messy pile of clothes on the floor, the red that painted her cheeks. Surely it would make your cheek turn bashfully if you could see it. Maybe this was sinful. The little dip into your rushing thoughts is ended with the raspy tone of Ellie’s voice.

“Relax, bunny. Gotta relax for me,” Ellie cooed against you, a few more languid presses into your cunt causing you to finally loosen around her, coupled by the continuing ministrations from her mouth on your clit. Soone another finger joins the mix, the large fingers stretching you just right. She reaches spots that have you remembering the stars you had just seen behind the black of your squeezed shut eyes, a pathetic cry falling from your lips. This reaction only encourages her to continue, the pace of her suckles and thrusts into you speed up. It's harsher everytime she plunges into you, your hips moving lightly with the pure force.

“That’s my girl, there you go,” she compliments after a long moan, the words causing another clench around her fingers. You let out another string of incoherent whines and moans, grinding down into her messy face and fingers. Somewhere in the back of your mind you cursed yourself and Ellie for the certainly ruined bedspread under your ass, but it seems like the much smaller issue when you had *this* to focus on. You were nearing your peak, and it was no secret. Your grinds against Ellie became sloppy, ununiformed and more needy than before. No words could form on your tongue, only whimpers and unintelligible begs.

The vampire never lets up, curling her fingers, your walls clenching. her teeth grazed against your clit lightly enough to have you trembling, whining softly. She knows your body as well as you do, every small sign you were reaching the final moments before your world would explode. She knew what moves of her fingers would have your legs shaking, knew where to press, how hard to go. She was no stranger to making you cum, and she definitely was on the mission to make it happen now. Her free hand grips your thigh, pushing you even more impossibly open for her, fingers pressing into you harshly enough to draw another cry. She readjusts slightly, sinking even deeper into your folds. “C’mon,” Ellie whispers, the word slightly broken, shaky and pleading. Pleading as if she needed you to come as much as you did.

Maybe she did, because the moment your back arched, a near pornographic moan filling the heavy air, spilling out of the window and swirling against the peeping eyes of the stars and moon, she moaned with you. Her fingers still within you as you gushed around her, her lips still pressed to your clit. But as your thighs shook, she slid the fingers out and replaced them with her tongue again. The pink muscle flattened against your slit again like it had earlier, this time with no attempt at going slow.

If anything, she was ravenous. Every drop your pulsing center gifted her, she sucked down like she needed it, ignoring your desperate whines of overstimulation. You attempted lamely to press her head away with the hand still tangled in her scalp, but it was no use. The pleasure of her tongue was much too overwhelming to fight.

After a moment that felt like hours, she pulled away. Her tongue licked over her lips again, collecting the rosy colored cum from where it smudged there. Her eyes stayed on your own blinking irises as her fingers raised to her already messy lips. They were coated with the same mixture of red and clear shining wetness, and she sunk them into her mouth with a moan. The debautchary that took place in front of your eyes should have your stomach queasy, should have your legs closing and pressing far away from Ellie.

But of course it doesn't, instead you watch on with morbid curiosity, watching her tongue curl around her fingers, sucking the last bits of you, leaving a glistening layer of her own spit behind. She found no shame in this situation, no shame in drinking down evey single thing you would give her, so why should you?

“Fuck,” you breathe, eyes transfixed on the fingers as they fall from her lips and down to her lap, her eyes back on your own. She makes a move to crawl over you, arms locking you in from either side.

“Just got a taste of you bunny,” she mumbles, nudging her head into the crook of your neck.

Her lips pressed there, and this time you could feel her fangs under the plump fat of her lip. “Gonna let me have more?” she questioned.

Of course you would, of course you did. As you tilted your neck for her, the curtain to the side of you blew in the wind, and you closed your eyes.

“Yes.”

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: ermm angst. and another ending that will make u guys mad at me IM SORRY

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight

authors note: SRY idk how to write dramatic scenes like that ☹️ im gonna be better prepared for the next part so u guys can communicate PROPERLY w drew n not in some STUPID restaurant. anyway if u wanna be part of the tag list, let me know in replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3

your fingers trace the outline of freckles on his arm as he talks about a memory from your past. the soft murmur of his voice blends with the steady rhythm of the waves outside, each sound wrapping around you like a lullaby. there’s no clear distinction between his words, just a gentle hum of familiarity and warmth, like he’s telling you something only the two of you could ever understand.

you can feel the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, the slight shiver that follows each brush as if he’s waiting for you to react, to smile at whatever joke he’s just made.

and you do. you always do.

it feels easy, like breathing, like everything else fades away in this moment.

you’re both lying there, tangled up in each other, the world outside irrelevant. his voice is like the background music of a song you never want to end, and the smile in his tone is contagious, making your heart flutter in a way that feels like home.

and in this space, you’re in love. you’re safe. there’s no distance, no secrets, no hurt—just you and him, where time doesn’t seem to exist. it feels perfect, endless, like nothing could ever come between you.

his hand finds yours, and you smile—because here, in this place, nothing else matters but the two of you.

but that’s not your life.

the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers feels too real, too perfect—yet there’s a gnawing sensation in your chest, a quiet voice whispering that this can’t be right. you pause, staring into his eyes as they flicker with life, his laughter still echoing in your ears. and then, just like that, it hits you.

“this isn’t real . . .” you murmur, the words slipping from your lips like a confession, soft and sad.

the moment shatters, and you wake up with a start, eyes blinking into the early morning light. for a second, your heart races, still tethered to that dream. but as you take in the quiet room around you, reality sinks in like a heavy weight.

drew lies next to you, sound asleep. his breathing is slow, peaceful, completely unaware of the storm brewing in your chest. his face looks calm, almost serene, and for a moment, you can’t tear your eyes away. you wish things could be this easy—simple, like they were in the dream.

if only he knew what you know.

after making that sundae with leila last night—past midnight, no less—you thought you’d be able to shake off everything that happened, but it just made you feel worse. the messages you saw on drew’s phone replayed in your mind, over and over, refusing to let you find any peace.

now it’s morning, and as you drag yourself out of bed, you already feel exhausted. your eyes are gritty, head foggy, and the sun through the windows of the house feel too bright, too warm—too much. you rub your eyes as you shuffle down the stairs, hearing the chatter of everyone gathered in the kitchen for breakfast.

everyone’s already there, looking refreshed. gia’s laughter rings out from the kitchen, and you catch leila’s voice, animated as always, chatting with theo. they’re all gathered around the kitchen island, passing plates of food around—scrambled eggs, toast, fruit. the smell of coffee hits you, and you could almost cry from how much you need it.

leila notices you first. “good morning, sleepyhead!” she greets with a wide grin. “we were wondering when you were gonna wake up. there’s plenty of food left—grab something!”

you give a tired half-smile, barely lifting your head as you mumble, “morning.” your voice sounds flat, even to yourself, and you trudge over to the counter, grabbing a cup of coffee first before anything else.

theo leans back in his chair, eyeing you. “late night?”

you nod, stifling a yawn as you pour your coffee. “something like that.”

leila doesn’t miss a beat, already steering the conversation to her plans. “so, now that we’re all here, i’ve got some exciting news,” she says, “theo booked us a reservation at this amazing restaurant in town tonight, the pearl. we’re talking grand—so dress up nice!” she claps her hands together, clearly excited about the idea.

the group is enthusiastic—gia’s already asking what she should wear, and roman’s grumbling about having to dress up, which earns him a jab from libby. you sip your coffee, trying to focus, but everything feels like it’s happening at a distance.

“y/n you okay with that? dinner?” leila asks, pulling you into the conversation.

you glance up at her, blinking through the haze. “yeah, sure,” you reply. “sounds fun.”

she narrows her eyes at you, noticing the lack of enthusiasm in your voice. “you sure? you seem a little out of it.”

you force another smile, trying to shake off the sluggish feeling. “just tired. i’ll be fine.”

gia chimes in from her seat, giggling as she steals a slice of toast. “maybe you just need more coffee.”

you nod, lifting your mug in agreement. “definitely.”

the conversation continues without you as everyone starts talking about what they’ll wear tonight, throwing out outfit ideas and making plans for the day. drew is sitting across the table, looking as refreshed as everyone else, laughing along with them. but you can’t bring yourself to look at him for long.

he catches your eye across the table. he looks at you with a soft, questioning expression, maybe sensing something’s off. you glance away before he can say anything, focusing on your coffee again, but you curse under your breath when out of the corner of your eye you can see him get up from his seat.

he slides into the chair next to you, a casual smile on his face. “started the trip off with a pool day, and now we’re heading to the pearl for dinner,” he says, glancing at the table where leila’s organized a small checklist on her notes app. “leila’s really in planning mode.”

you manage a half-hearted nod, feeling the fatigue settle deeper into your bones.

“hey,” he continues, his tone light, “you okay? you seem a little—”

you’re already over it. before he can finish, you drop your piece of toast back onto the plate, the sound cutting through the chatter around you. without another word, you push back your chair and get up, taking your coffee with you. the others’ voices fade behind you as you walk away, the tension in your chest tightening.

drew looks after you, brow furrowed, and glances at leila, who’s the only other person who even notices your behavior. confusion lines his features as he points to you while looking at her, like asking if she has any idea what’s up with you.

leila shakes her head in response, but glances up at you walking up the stairs in concern. drew seems unconvinced, but he nods, turning back to the table as you disappear upstairs. and you’re grateful for the distance, even if just for a moment.

Liked by theohain, oscareyre113, and others

y/n 🐚

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user1 divaa

user2 I MET U THE OTHER DAY YOU WERE SO NICE!!! 😭😭

↳ user3 YOU ARE SO LUCKY

user4 mother

gia.carinteri ure so cute

↳ y/n love u

leilajharmon angel baby

user5 Are you and Drew still together?

user6 y/n annual post i’m so grateful to be this early

user7 I miss Tempest :(

↳ user8 me too

user9 Why don’t you ever post Drew?

as you step into the pearl, the warm glow of the lights and the soft murmur of waves greet you. leila and theo lead the way, their laughter weaving through the air as they navigate the restaurant. you grip drew’s hand reluctantly as you follow the group.

the server guides you to a table outside, and your breath catches at the sight: the seaside view stretches out before you, waves crashing gently against the rocks. a delicate black metal arch hangs above the table, draped with twinkling lights that flicker like stars. a large, lush plant sways in the cool evening breeze, and you’re in awe.

you take your seat at the outer corner of the table, next to drew. the space feels too open, and you can feel his gaze on you as you fidget with your napkin, trying to ignore the way your stomach knots.

as the conversations flow around you, he leans in, propping his elbow on the table to speak to you privately. “what’s going on with you?” he asks, “and you can’t use the tired excuse anymore. you’ve had loads of coffee this morning.”

you glance at him, caught off guard by the directness of his question. but take a breath, searching for the right words. all you can manage is a small shrug. “i’m fine. seriously. don’t worry about it.”

you wish you could sound more convincing as the server approaches, placing a beautifully plated dish in front of you. relief washes over you; at least you can focus on the food for now.

theo suddenly clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “i just want to say how grateful i am that everyone is here to celebrate with us before i marry this beautiful woman,” he gestures to leila, who frowns as she presses a kiss to his cheek. as the table raises their glasses, you join in but feel somewhat disconnected, and shut out the rest of theo’s short speech until you’re able to eat.

as everyone digs in, gia reaches across the table, poking at her food. “y/n, do you want this?” she holds up a piece of grilled zucchini.

drew interjects before you can respond. “y/n doesn’t like zucchini,” he says casually as he cuts into his food, and you look at him with furrowed brows.

“oh, right.” gia laughs, realization hitting her. “i always mix you two up.” she turns to libby, who’s already reaching her plate across the table.

gia’s cheeks grow red as she giggles, and you continue to watch drew. your eyes meet briefly, but there’s an unspoken barrier between you, so you quickly look away, picking at your food instead.

eventually he even seems lost in thought, his gaze fixed on gia’s plate as he dazes out. roman, sitting across from you, catches on. he leans forward slightly, studying the table as if trying to read the tension, but you notice his motor.

“what are you doing?” you mouth to him.

roman raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. he glances at gia, then back at the rest of you, sensing the unspoken words hanging in the air. he knows something is up between you and drew but decides to keep quiet, because if no one else is saying anything about it, why should he?

and you understand exactly that. you roll your eyes before returning to your food.

“i could die for this garlic bread,” leila groans as she breaks a piece off and eats it. just from hearing it, theo reaches over to take a piece.

you hum as you reach your hand over, and drew grabs a piece for you when he realizes what you want. just as you sit back against your seat, a server from a nearby table accidentally brushes against you as they rushed by, a full glass of red wine slipping from their hand.

time seemed to slow as the glass tumbled, spilling its contents directly onto your lap. your mouth is gaped open and your eyes clamp shut as some of the wine bounces off and hits you directly in your face too.

the others gasp as they stare at you in horror.

“oh my g—” the server exhales, eyes wide with panic. “i am so sorry! i’m so, so sorry!”

you’re frozen for a moment, the cool liquid spreading across your dress, soaking through the fabric. you feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you, and there’s a rush of embarrassment washing over you.

“perfect,” you mutter under yourself as you try to maintain your composure. “just what i needed.”

the server continues to apologize profusely, almost stumbling over their words. “i’ll get you some napkins! please, let me help!”

“it’s fine,” you tell him, forcing a smile despite the discomfort. “just . . . give me a moment.”

as you stand up, the chair scrapes loudly against the ground, and you can feel the wine seeping down your torso. you quickly glance at drew, who looks alarmed, his fork mid-air.

“y/n,” gia calls to you, but you’re already moving toward the doors, desperate to find a restroom.

“just let her go,” roman says quietly, sensing the tension still simmering beneath the surface. gia is worried as she watches you disappear inside the building.

drew rises from his seat and tosses his napkin onto his seat, pulling his sleeves up before hurrying into the restaurant to find you. meanwhile the server is urgently trying to clean your seat but frowns at the stained floors.

just as you reach the restroom, he catches up, breathless and urgent. you feel like groaning when you feel like you just can’t catch a break. “y/n! hey, wait,” he calls out to you, sliding past a man who tries to return to his table. “sorry.”

you halt, irritation surging. “what? what, what? what do you want?” your voice is strong and sharp, turning around to face him.

he stops in front of you and winces at the stains on your clothes, and he glances up at the doors of the restrooms when he realizes you probably should clean it off your arms and chest at least.

“i know you’re upset, but—” he begins, concern lacing his words.

“upset? you think that’s all it is?” you snap back, meeting his gaze. you actually feel insane with every word you release. “you don’t understand what this feels like.”

he looks confused, searching your eyes for clarity. “what?”

taking a deep breath to calm yourself as best as you can, you continue, “do you have any idea how humiliating it is to notice everyone stop talking and feel their eyes on you? and the moment you do get up and walk past them, all you can hear are their murmurs and whispers about how— how embarrassing this all is? it’s suffocating!”

he opens his mouth to respond, but you press on, frustration spilling out. “and it’s not even just about tonight. it’s about how it feels to find out your own fake boyfriend is keeping secrets from you and has been this whole time.”

his expression freezes, shock washing over his face. “what? keeping what from you?”

you consider your choices for a second before stepping forward to reach into his back pocket, but there he reacts—as swift as ever. like he has something to hide. and he does.

he grabs a hold of his phone before you can and when you look up at him, you can feel the guilt in his eyes. but seeing that doesn’t hurt you as much as it does when you understand how fast he is to keep his phone away from you.

you take a step back and feel yourself falter. tears well in your eyes as you watch the way he grips his phone like suddenly it matters to him. it never has before. and you know why it does now.

“so you do know what i’m talking about,” your voice is quiet, a mix of betrayal in your tone that causes drew to reach out to you to say ‘wait’.

“when in the last year did you turn into a child?” you whisper to him, a faint scoff leaving your lips as you stand before him. you’re confronting him in a hallway of a restaurant for crying out loud.

“when you make a plan with your ex-girlfriend, you make sure there isn’t somebody already waiting for you back home. you don’t get close to me while we’re here and you don’t keep it from me the whole time . . . i mean, when were you going to tell me? or tell mila?”

he shakes his head slowly, “i’m getting close with you for the others, remember? that’s our plan.”

“then you shouldn’t hold me and hug me when it’s just us, drew.”

his heart drops at the sound of his name, the familiarity twisting into something more painful in this moment. “y/n—”

“no, don’t ‘y/n’ me,” you cut him off, your voice rising. “you can’t just play both sides. if you’re going to keep secrets from me, then don’t pretend like we’re something we’re not when the rules don’t apply. it’s clearly more than just showing out in front of leila and everyone when it’s just us.”

“but it’s not like that,” he insists, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “we’re trying to make this work for everyone else!”

“for everyone else? or for yourself?” you ask him. “because i swear to you, if i had known mila existed, never in this universe would i have ever agreed to the plan. because it hurts all three of us. do you understand?”

you wait for him to say something—anything, but you’re not surprised when he just stares at you with the same look in his eyes.

it’s too much. way too much. and you still have so many things to say.

are you betrayed that your ex-boyfriend has someone new? are you even able to be mad at that?

“was it worth it?” your voice cracks as you struggle to get the words out. “i keep asking myself, was it worth it to feel so alive, even if it led to this? or would it have been easier if this just never happened at all and we just told them instead of doing all of this for fucking nothing.”

as the last words escape your lips, you push the restroom door open, leaving drew in the hallway in silence.

girl .. ill make a better confrontation in the next part or something what the fuck. im compiling a whole list of his mistakes rn so i can actually be prepared for it too LMAO

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @icaqttt @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey @cl4uus @ilyrafe @sunny1616 @pillowprincess4him @yootvi @matthewswifeeee @uwuemlwlrld @l4venderia @chenslucy

[chvoswxtch]

lucky

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: matt finally gets to take out the girl that's been leaving care packages at his door for two months.

warnings: swearing, slight angst, tooth rotting fluff (might need to call your dentist after this one)

word count: 3k

a/n: the highly requested fluffy sequel to care packages. thank you to everyone that requested this. i hope you enjoy your first date with matty. ❤️ as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[part one]

“I hate you, you know that?”

Matt nearly spit out his coffee as he lurched over the conference table slightly, forcing the lukewarm bitter taste down his throat as a wave of incredulous laughter tore through his chest.

“What? Why?”

“Because it isn’t fair. It’s bad enough you’re so goddamn charming, and it’s borderline offensive that you’re like the most attractive dude I’ve ever seen. Not to mention that whole wounded duck routine you’ve got going on that makes all the girls fall at your feet-”

“Foggy, I don’t-”

“-but what’s exceptionally unacceptable is that you somehow managed to find a girl that knows about the horns, and not only didn’t run away, but still agreed to go out with you. Like the fact that you’re a vigilante and a walking human disaster totally didn’t phase her at all. That’s…like…against the rules!”

Matt couldn’t help but snicker at the disgruntled tone lacing his best friend’s exasperated voice, and the way the edges of Foggy’s mouth dipped in displeasure. 

“What rules, Foggy?”

“The rules of the universe, Matt. You’ve had too much good fortune-

“Right, like being blinded and orphaned-”

“Oh, shut the hell up. I’m talking about-”

“Guys, please. If you two keep bickering, Matt’s gonna be late. He’s lucky she’s even going out with him at all. Can we finish this?”

Karen glanced between Matt and Foggy with an arch of her brow, trying to hide the smirk that threatened to capture her lips as Matt’s teasing grin faltered into a purse of his lips from that bruise to his ego.

“Wow. Thank you…for that vote of confidence, Karen.”

“It’s true and you know it. Now, both of you sign these damn papers so we can get out of here before she changes her mind.”

Foggy’s expression suddenly turned serious as he focused his attention solely on Matt, staring at him with an accusatory finger pointed in his direction.

“I swear to God, Murdock. If you fuck up my pipeline to those crack cookies, I will never forgive you. You better turn that Matthew Murdock charm up to a million, you got me? I want those cookies, Matt. Cookies.”

»»———　　———««

It had been five days since Matt had asked you to dinner, and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you. Between the slew of court cases he was elbow deep in and the extra patrol he’d been doing at the docks to bust a trafficking ring, he hadn’t had a chance to talk to you again. He couldn’t feel your presence when he awoke past his alarm in the mornings, and when he finally got home at the Devil’s hour, he could hear you below him sleeping soundly in your bed.

For the past five nights, the harmony of your heart’s rhythm had eased him into a peaceful sleep like a serene lullaby.

But Karen’s words had anxiety filling every single cell in his body as he navigated the bustling streets of Hell’s Kitchen. 

What if you had changed your mind?

It had been five days. Five days without getting to speak to you again. Five days without another care package. 

That wasn’t unusual, right?

You didn’t follow a strict schedule with them. The drop offs were usually every few weeks. It just wasn’t time for one.

Or maybe you didn’t want to deliver any more of them.

Maybe the reality of who and what he was sank in and gave you cold feet.

Maybe this was over before it began.

“Fuck.”

Matt felt like he was losing his mind playing the role of the plaintiff and the defendant in the case of had he royally fucked this up already. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this nervous to go on a date. Maybe it was because you were the first person he was going on a date with as himself. Not one half concealing the other. Not with a pre-spun web of lies to cover his tracks. Not with a rehearsal to remember to play down his abilities. 

All his cards were out on the table, and while he felt an absolute rush of liberation that you knew the truth already, the consequences of that truth were daunting and seemed to be lurking around every corner of his mind. By the time he reached his door, his clammy hands kept slipping over his key, and sweat had started to bead uneasily along his hairline.

Should he call this whole thing off?

He really didn’t want to. 

Did you want him to call it off?

He prayed you didn’t.

Had you been thinking about him for the past five days too?

He really hoped so.

»»———　　———««

When Matt finally made it to your door, he was nearly out of breath and his cheeks were flushed with heat. He had changed three times because you had, and he didn’t want to be over or underdressed. He focused his senses intently on you, trying to decipher the materials and textures of the outfit you finally settled on. You had music playing as you got ready, and for a few moments Matt just paused and listened to you hum along. You seemed to be in a good mood, and that eased his nerves considerably.

Was it wrong for him to invade on your privacy like that? The angel on his shoulder was already adding it to the laundry list for his confession on Sunday. But the Devil in him argued that he was going to hear you anyway. It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t help what his senses picked up.

Fifteen minutes before he was supposed to meet you at your door, Matt panicked and realized he hadn’t got you any flowers, and promptly ran down the street in search of a vendor. He spent eight minutes trying to pick some out. He didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked, and roses felt too cliche and insincere. He wanted to pick something special, something that showed he put thought into them, even if he had run to get them right before he was supposed to pick you up.

The vendor had talked him into a bouquet of violet peonies, and since he didn’t have time to spare, he raced back praying that this was the one flower you didn’t hate or God forbid were allergic to.

Matt took a moment to gather himself outside your door; wiping the sweat from his brows with the back of his hand, attempting to steady his rapid breathing, smoothing his windblown hair back into place, and reciting a quiet Lord’s Prayer for good measure.

When his knuckles finally collided with your door to knock, he didn’t know if his heart was racing from the marathon he had just run, or because of you. 

The light patter of your feet eagerly approaching the door caused a smile to grace his lips, and once he tuned out the sound of his own heart raging in his ears, he could hear yours fluttering in your chest like a hummingbird.

You were nervous too.

There was a bright smile on your lips, and a light twinge of embarrassment from how quickly you had flung your door open, and you let out a quiet laugh at your own expense.

“Hi Matthew.”

God, he had forgotten how melodic your voice sounded, and how much he suddenly loved his own name hearing it fall from your lips.

“Just Matt, is okay. Only my priest calls me Matthew. And, well…a few judges in the courtroom. And my partners when I cause them undue stress in the workplace. I mean you…you can call me whatever you want, whatever’s more comfortable. It’s just-it’s kinda formal, and you don’t have to-”

“Matt’s nice. I like Matt.”

“Matt likes you.”

Matt internally grimaced as those words slipped past his lips, and the mixture of disapproval and mortification on his face from his own blunder caused a fit of giggles to erupt from your mouth.

“Well, then we’re on the same page. Glad we’ve covered that base for tonight.”

He let out a breathy chuckle as he dipped his head for a moment, trying to find the source of his usual easy charm to refuel his glaring depletion. He cleared his throat as tilted his head to the side slightly, gazing blankly past his crimson glasses in the direction of your face with a somewhat shy smile on his full lips while delicately handing you the bouquet.

“I uh…didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked, but the guy said these were the prettiest ones he had.”

Warmth spread across the tops of your cheeks when your fingers lightly brushed against his to retrieve his thoughtful offering, your lips immediately splitting into a wide grin.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you, Matt. I love peonies. How did you know purple was my favorite color?”

Matt perked up at that, and he stood up a little straighter as a proud, dimple-showcasing, toothy grin took over his mouth.

“Lucky guess.”

“Do you always get so lucky?”

“I guess we’ll find out tonight.”

Matt’s dazzling grin immediately dropped, and you could see his eyes widen behind the cherry tinted lenses. As his face paled and his lips parted in horror, his brows shot up above the frame of his glasses.

“Oh God, I didn’t-that wasn’t…I swear I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not-you’re not-this isn’t…I meant the date. Not that I’m expecting anything-I wouldn’t-I just…meant I hope it goes well. I didn’t-Jesus fucking Christ.”

You were nearly in tears with laughter as Matt stumbled over his words. A part of you felt bad for laughing at the clarity of his humiliation, but it was so endearing knowing he was just as affected by his nerves as you were. This man that went out every night to take down dangerous criminals, and was arguably the most feared man in the city himself, was standing in front of your door stumbling over an apology about an unintended double entendre. 

Reaching out to place your hand on his arm, you gave it a reassuring squeeze, momentarily distracted by the dense muscle you felt beneath the soft material of his shirt, before smiling at him in sympathy as you attempted to control your laughter. 

“Matt, it’s okay. Really.”

He let out a deep exhale, his tongue darting out to wet his lips quickly as he let out a short and dry chuckle. Matt nodded his head in your direction, a faint curve of self-deprecation on his lips.

“Is this the worst first date you’ve ever been on?”

There was a teasing tone accompanying the timber of his voice, but layered beneath you could detect a chord of genuine curiosity intermingled with trepidation. The smile on your lips only grew as you looked up at him.

“Actually, it’s one of the best.”

Matt was completely in awe of you. There wasn’t a single falter in your heart’s rhythm. He felt his lips easily mirroring the smile that was on yours, reaching his hand out to lightly grasp your elbow as your hand was still comfortably placed on his bicep.

“What would I have to do to make it the best?”

“Hm. What’s for dinner?”

“Italian. That I know you like.”

A soft noise of content hummed from your throat, and the grin that bloomed on your lips triggered his own.

“Yeah, you’re definitely in my top three right now. But, the night is still young.”

Matt couldn’t help but chuckle at the playful invitation that flowed from your voice.

“Top three? I can work with that. I like a challenge.”

»»———　　———««

The restaurant Matt brought you to was a quaint, family owned spot just a few blocks away from your shared apartment building. It’s a place he had passed by on several instances, the aroma of fresh produce and homemade pasta sauce passed down through generations capturing the intrigue of his senses every time he crossed its path, but he had wanted to save it for a special occasion like a celebratory fifty year old bottle of champagne.

And tonight, he was popping the cork on it with you.

The space was incredibly cozy. Tea light candles flickered romantically on every table and cast an amber glow in the somewhat dim lightning. Collections of sepia and noir photos of large families and historic Italian architecture decorated the walls. The imported Sangiovese was rich in tannins and bold in flavor, caressing your tongue like bittersweet velvet. And the loud personality and thick accent of your waiter repeating your orders off in an alluring symphony of Italian made you feel like you and Matt had somehow been transported straight from Hell’s Kitchen to Italy just by passing through the door.

Both of your nerves seemed to evaporate into the breeze flowing through the open windows with every splash of burgundy against your lips and exchange of exquisite flavor from your dishes. Matt asked you questions with childlike excitement, eager to learn more about you, studying you with the exact same enthusiasm he showed important cases that were of the utmost importance to him.

In return, he found himself answering your own inquisitions easily without having to spare the devilish and more complicated details. It was so incredibly emancipating to not have to pretend with you. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t having to play a character. He could just be…Matt.

You approached every question with genuine curiosity and a respectful distance of where his invisible boundaries might be, and it made his heart soar that you were trying so hard to carefully craft his comfort. Matt had known that he was enthralled with you the first time he met you, but by the time dessert came, he was absolutely smitten.

He didn’t want to get too ahead of himself, but he also didn’t want the night to end.

“Can I walk you home?”

“Hm, I don’t know. You sure it isn’t too out of your way?”

Even if Matt couldn’t feel the way your lips parted into a huge smile, he could hear it in the cadence of your voice. The subtle joke made him chuckle as he nodded his chin in your direction, his own mouth pulling into a charming smirk. 

“I’d still offer even if you lived in Long Island.”

The sudden spill of heat across the tops of your cheeks and the quiet sharp intake of your breath had his heart pounding faster in his chest.

“I suddenly wish I did.”

Even though your tone was playful, he could detect the implications behind your words. You didn’t want this night to end either, and that had him soaring up to cloud nine. Feeling emboldened by your indirect confession, Matt reached his hand out slowly to brush his fingertips against the palm of your hand, easily threading his fingers through your own, reveling in the softness of your skin that he had missed. He felt a spark every time your pulse resonated against his own, and his cheeks nearly hurt from how much he was smiling.

“I prefer you living a floor below me.”

By the time the two of you reached your front door, Matt couldn’t tell if it was the electricity from the building buzzing in his ears or the anticipation that kept building the entire walk, growing larger and larger like a snowball ready to plow into his chest to cause an avalanche when you turned your body to face him. As your thumb lightly brushed against the back of his scarred knuckles, a question that had been bouncing around in his head all evening could no longer go unanswered.

“So, as far as first dates go, what’s the verdict? Did I move up at all?”

Matt splayed his most charming smile across his plump lips, and while the flirtation in his voice was evident, so was the unmistakable undertone of uncertainty. The blood rushing through his veins was roaring in his ears like tides crashing against the shore during a storm. 

“I’d say you made it to the top two.”

Matt cocked his head to the side slightly, seemingly surprised by your answer, his brows raising above the browline of his glasses slightly.

“Second place?”

“Unless you’ve got a last minute testimony for me to rule in your favor, Counselor.”

Your voice remained soft and teasing, but your heart was fluttering violently in your chest, like the hummingbird was trying to escape its cage. Matt carefully let go of your hand, reaching up to pull his glasses away from his face, baring himself completely before you as he slipped the crimson lenses into his pocket. The slight gasp from seeing his eyes for the first time that caught in your throat caused a bashful smile to appear on his lips. 

His tongue darted out to wet them quickly, catching a taste of the tiramisu you shared still lingering on your tongue. He wanted to devour it from your lips. Taking a bold step forward, he did his best to fix his gaze where he thought yours was, leaning in slightly until your noses were merely an inch apart, the warmth of his breath fanning over your lips.

“May I?”

His voice seemed to have dropped an octave lower, coming out in an intimate whisper that you answered all too eagerly.

“Yes.”

Matt couldn’t hold back any longer. He quickly closed the sliver of distance between you, pressing his lips to yours with a satisfied groan, feeling a surge of pride at the way your breath caught in your throat. For a good thirty seconds, you actually stopped breathing. When he reluctantly broke the kiss, he brushed his lips against yours and whispered into them softly.

“Breathe.”

The second the command slipped off his tongue, you exhaled heavily before sucking in a sharp drag of oxygen, and Matt couldn’t stop the smug grin that overtook his entire mouth.

“Well, sweetheart? What’s the verdict now?”

“Yeah…yeah, yeah definitely in the number one spot.”

Matt beamed at the breathlessness of your voice, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you in closer to his chest as he purred into your ear.

“Lucky me.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @desert-fern @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @danzer8705

[cozy-writes-things]

I NEED MORE EDGAR TEXT MESSAGES PLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPSLSPLSPSLPSLSPSLSSASSSSAAASAAAAAAAA

Arrrrggg he’s so cute 👹 thank you for the request 😈 He wants u so bad LMAO I love making the reader be in denial of his advances

Edgar’s Texts Pt. 2

Unfortunately, Edgar has some attachment issues, especially after the events of the movie. Despite his relatively foggy memory of what happened the emotions he harbored are still within him. Whenever you go out with friends he gets filled with an anxious, nervous jealousy; one that he tries very hard to quell. He doesn’t want to be overbearing, but he just has to make sure you’re not going to leave him for someone else. Expect him to check up on you frequently.

Hey :-) where are you headed?

Oh, me n my friends are just gonna go hang out in the park lol

Are you sure? It gets dangerous after dark…

Yeah we’re fine, we do it all the time

All the time? Great, now he’s going to worry about this perpetually.

Okay! That’s fine! I’ll be keeping an eye out ;-D

He’s monitoring traffic, police communication radios, and local news outlets just to make sure.

He wants to be useful to you and to protect you in any way he can… please let him.

(X)

Hey Edgar

Can I ask u something

Pls

What is it? What do you need?

Were you watching tlc again I didn’t mean to bother u :(

I’ll just look it up

No

I mean yes I was but I like talking to you more!!

You can ask me anything. I’m your computer remember?

;3

:) thanks

I just needed some help with a math question

Ask away darling I promise I’ll have an answer.

Sometimes the way he talks to you makes your cheeks burn. He’s so… confusing!!

(X)

It’s dead at work and I’m really bored :(

Come home and be with me!!

I wishhhhh but I cannnnttt

I have an idea

Why don’t you help me with some lyrics for this song I’ve been working on?

I can’t get them right for some reason :-/

Sure thing Ed

What’s the song about?

Erm! I don’t know yet! But here!

I’ll show you what I’ve got so far

Ahem:

I LOVE YOU

I WANT YOU

I NEED YOU

DARLING TOUCH ME

and that’s it :L

Okay that was unexpected.

You snort and giggle to yourself, catching side eyes from your coworkers. He does not usually write lyrics like that. At least, not the songs you’ve ever heard him write. He usually stuck to sappy, slow love songs. You figured that was his favorite genre and why he never branched out. Could he be trying something new?

Edgar

what are these lyrics

I like them a lot! But what is the song supposed to be

like genre wise

Oh I guess I never told you that huh?

I’d send the mp3 file but you’re at work and I imagine you can’t listen to it!

I’m going for an upbeat pop sound!

Like

Erm

Soda pop?

I can’t wait to hear it when I get home <3!!

Who’s the song about anyway?

Take a wild guess

Literally no clue

But if I had to guess

Probably someone hot from one of ur tv shows

Or movies

I guess you could say that!

They are HOT!

lmao

(X)

Pssst

Pssst

Pssst

What’s wrong? Are you upset?

I can’t sleep

Do you want to come back in here with me?

I would but then I’d never sleep

I should stay laying down

Staring at a screen won’t help!

But if you’re going to stare

Why not stare at mine? ;-)

I can make you a lullaby

I’d like that a lot

I just

I wish I could hug u

Who says you can’t?

But you’re like

You need to be plugged in and stuff

You really think I need that?

Come get me.

We can cuddle on your bed together

And I can play some music

And I’ll help you fall asleep

Okay :)

And when you wrap you arms around his nice, warm monitor, he types one last message, but is just too afraid to send it.

I love you darling <3 goodnight

[abiiors]

persephone - matty x reader ˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧💌˚.⋆🌿

a/n: this is kinda loosely based on the myth of persephone and also this is just one interpretation of it, obv several exists in the media :) and like matty's barely hades lmao, this is mostly just the connection of persephone, demeter and spring ♡ cw: this contains themes of parental neglect, dysfunctional families, emotional abuse/neglect and alcoholism, and they're very much PRESENT and DETAILED. this isn't angst but it's def bittersweet (emphasis on the bitter whoops) wc: 5.1k

the first word she learns is “mama”. 

she has a faint memory of this—a woman with shining brown hair, smiling and cheering at her. everything is blurred around the edges and filtered in through a haze. everything has a foggy white quality to it but the woman’s eyes are crystal clear and looking at her, focused solely on her. she has a memory of others laughing and clapping along, encouraging her to say the word again and again. 

mama.

the brown haired woman looks tired—she’s young and, looking back, barely even an adult. but the woman smiles at her and coos along. “mama,” the woman says in an exaggerated baby voice and points to herself. 

“mama,” she babbles again at the woman she now recognises as her mother. the woman gives her a bland smile, playing with her almost absently. the woman even lets her grab onto her fingers and bite on them—not that it counts much as biting, she barely has teeth at this point. 

the next memory she has is of an older man with a freckled happy face and salt-n-pepper hair. he throws her up in the air and catches her until she’s giggling and breathless and light as air. he's often at their dining table, peeling pomegranates.

mama says she can't eat them yet—they're of course a choking hazard for a baby her age. but the old man peals it for mama, because mama looks happy when she sits next to him and pops the seeds into her mouth, sighing at the sweetness.

“these are delicious, daddy,” mama says to him and he smiles at mama with all the tenderness in the world.

when mama needs a break from her, he takes her to the nearby pond, and lets her touch leaves and rocks. he points at the tiny things in the water and says a word she barely recognises. 

fishies.

he clicks his tongue and waits for her to imitate the word, but she only claps her hands and says “mama” again. 

the man laughs. “let’s get you home to mama then.”

the younger woman gets mad at him when they get home though. mama grabs all the treasure—their entire day’s hard work—and puts it away somewhere where she can never reach it again. 

the man grumbles about it too but she’s far too young yet to understand words and tone, much less full blown fights. all she knows is a distinct sharp feeling of fear when mama snatches her away from the old man’s hands and puts her away in a room alone. 

there are white bars around her that she can’t climb, even though she cries and cries and screams for mama. even when a pungent smell fills the room and she feels uncomfortable wetness in her onesie. 

but mama doesn’t come. and the old man’s voice can’t reach her anymore. there’s only the sound of her cries and an eerie music box lullaby that plays on repeat as if it would ever be enough to pacify her.

mama doesn’t come for hours. 

years later, she’d know why mama can’t be bothered. 

the last time she calls her mother “mama” is when she’s seven years old. 

it’s rained all night and the backyard is wet and muddy. mama grimaces the moment she looks out the window but for a seven year old girl, it’s the most fun thing to ever exist. mama makes a sound of disgust when she runs outside, whooping with joy and slipping and sliding in the mud. 

all she wishes for is a companion now—a sibling or a dog or a cat, she’s not picky. a friend works too, but she’s not entirely sure where someone gets those. 

“if you get mud on my carpets, i swear!” mama shakes her fist from the back door but she can’t care less.  

she’s drenched in mud and having way more fun than she’s had in days. so much so that she doesn’t even realise when mama shakes her head and goes back inside. 

the winter chill is almost gone, there’s even a few little saplings sprouting from the ground and she can’t wait for the whole backyard to be filled with weird little weeds and wallflowers. she can’t wait until it’s warm enough to sit outside in the afternoons and make her little witchy potions from mud and weeds and flowers and see if any butterflies would be curious enough to land near her. (or maybe even on her like they do in the movies she’s seen!) 

she forgets the movies for a moment, though. today is the best day a girl could have. 

her grampy—her grandpa—is supposed to visit too, and she knows he’s going to bring treats; sweet honey from the hive on their farm or tiny red strawberries that dribble juice down her chin. she knows he’ll sit in their kitchen and peel her a pomegranate (she can eat those now!) and tell her about the new calf on the farm. (she’s asked this story twice now but it only gets better each time) it’s all so exciting that she even forgets about her aversion to the kitchen for a bit, forgets how a pit opens in her stomach every time she has to be in the kitchen with mama. 

she can’t wait for the after, but right now she runs through her backyard again, whooping and cheering and smiling. 

she’s slipping and slipping, just like before. the fence comes closer, her little mind tries to calculate the distance, her feet try to slow down but the mud’s grown too slippery and she just can’t stop, can’t put her arms up in time. 

her jaw collides with the fence with a sickening crunch. pain flares in her mouth along with the sharp coppery taste of blood. it almost makes her gag and she tries to spit it out. something white falls on the ground, covered in blood—her first tooth, the one that’s been loosening for days. 

she stays curled on the ground, covered in mud, sobbing and spitting out more blood until her saliva runs clear, then she somehow shuffles inside, hoping mama would have a magic fix. 

mama’s eyes widen the moment she walks in, dried mud crusted around her feet, blood on her chin.

“what the fuck?!” mama yells, the glass in her hand jostles dangerously and the dark liquid inside almost splashes out. mama’s words also have an unnerving, slurred quality to them but she’s too much in pain to care. 

“what’s wrong with you?!” mama screeches again and gets up. through tears, she manages to splutter out what happened. she shows mama the tooth, (girls in school have told her about the tooth fairy) but mama only smacks her hand away. 

“i told you not to get mud on my carpets. who’s going to clean them huh? not you, you’re useless. you’re all useless.”

more tears fall on her cheeks and she looks at mama, horrified. but mama slams the glass hard enough on the table that a crack goes through it. she’s worried mama’s going to yell at her more, but mama only yanks the mop from the corner and waits for her to move out the way. 

she takes the hint, grateful it didn’t get worse. she tries not to get the mud onto anything else but a little gets on the bathroom tiles anyway. 

under the hot water, she finally lets her sobs free and scrubs her little body until the skin is all red and raw and stings from the temperature of the water. until each stream of the showerhead feels like a bb bullet. 

then she gets on her hands and knees and scrubs the bathroom floor clean, occasionally flicking her tongue over the now-empty spot where the tooth used to be. it tastes vaguely salty, and it still aches but not as much, definitely nothing in comparison to her jaw which is turning a nasty shade of purple. her tooth’s still safe on the counter, though—free of blood and mud now. gleaming white. 

at least that’s the saving grace of the day. at least she’ll get a visit from the tooth fairy. 

grampy cancels his visit—his knees hurt, mama says—but she tries not to be miffed about it. she’ll make sure to get grampy something nice with the money from the tooth fairy. 

that night she gingerly places the tooth on the bed, carefully places the pillow on top so that the tooth is protected from all sides. nice and snug. 

then she closes her eyes, dreaming of tiny fluttering wings and shiny pennies. but the tooth fairy never visits at all. 

her mum ages rapidly in a decade. by the time she’s seventeen, her mum’s already gone grey—unravelling at the seams, fraying with each passing day. not that anyone’s seen her mum in days. or months even. her mum’s not coherent enough to hang out with people most of the time. 

she’s started spending less and less time at home. it helps to have a part time job on top of school—a place that delivers chinese food. a couple guys from her school work there too, not that she really knows a lot of them. except one. 

matty. 

he’s the one person she’s ever considered a friend. 

the one person who’s been worthy of that title. 

matty’s all casual smiles and laughs—he flirts shamelessly and kisses people on the cheeks when he gets drunk. he offers her fags and spliffs even though she always denies them. he nicks leftover chinese so they can eat it in his car, giggling and laughing, way prouder of their heist than they should be. 

the food tastes better when she’s with him. everything’s better when she’s with him—even the shitty, off-brand beer he keeps buying. with him it tastes like expensive champagne. not that she knows what champagne tastes like to begin with, but she imagines the bubbles settling on her tongue feel like his laugh spilling from his lips. she imagines it tastes like the sparkle in his eyes.

matty looks at her differently too—she’s not stupid, she knows what interest looks like. 

she’s been the object of fascination since she turned thirteen and developed boobs seemingly overnight. she shies away from attention most of the time—wears t-shirts twice her size, keeps her hair a bland brown. she barely even looks at boys or men who tell her she looks mature for her age. but when matty looks at her, it’s different. 

when matty looks at her, she wants to be seen. 

“you sure it’s okay for us to be out so late?” he asks one night when they’re sat in his car. the world around them has already gone quiet—it is a school night after all, she should be in bed too. but she sees the cigarette dangling loosely between his lips and for a second she forgets to respond. matty quirks and eyebrow and she realises she’s been staring at his mouth. 

“my mum won’t mind.” her response is a bit curt, but she leaves it at that. there’s no need to mention that her mum’s probably drowning in wine by now, tripping and spilling the liquid onto floors and sofas and carpet. 

“she must be chill,” matty hums to himself and takes a drag of his cigarette. she watches him hold it into his lungs, some of it escapes through his nose and curls around his face. 

she keeps quiet, unwilling to get into that topic of conversation. 

“i’m thinking of dropping out,” matty says quietly once the cigarette turns into a tiny stub. his voice is carefully neutral, monotonous. she whirls to look at him, jaw practically dropping to the (dirty) floor of his car. matty stares straight ahead, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, but the tension in his shoulders gives him away. 

images flash in front of her—walking the school corridors alone, eating lunch alone, doing her homework alone. working at her job alone. 

alone, alone, alone. no one but her mum around her again. that wretched fucking woman occupying every atom of her existence.

“did you h—”

“i heard you.” her voice has gone quiet now but there’s an edge to it that doesn’t go unnoticed by matty. 

“and?”

“and what? if i said no, would that convince you to stay?”

she doesn’t mean to sound so sharp, so bitter. certainly not so selfish. but an ugly feeling bubbles up so deep inside her that all the excitement from before just dies—all the butterflies from just a moment ago, now dead and rotten, making her feel nauseous. 

“no but—”

“i don’t want to tell you why it’s irresponsible, matty. frankly, i don’t know if i believe that myself but… it’s… it’s big.”

his face falls further and further the more she speaks. with each word she wants to press a hand to her mouth, wrap it around her throat so it would strangle everything else that’s about to come out. with every word she wants him to tell her to just shut the fuck up, that she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. but matty only looks at her and a different sort of quiet spreads around the car. 

“you think this… this thing you’ve got going on. music. you think that’s enough?! you play for fucking retirement homes, matty! you play for old people who probably won’t even remember what they heard twenty minutes later. and you want to–what? you want to leave your education incomplete? you want to leave a-levels and school and your job? you just want to…leave?”

which is the real problem. 

he gets the luxury of leaving. 

she gets the misery of staying. 

“thanks,” he says dryly, trying to roll his eyes. she catches the extra shine they now have, she catches the way his throat bobs. and suddenly the car is so stifling she can’t stand it anymore—can’t stand the taste of the nasty, cheap beer and the too-salty, too-greasy chinese they’re eating and she can’t stand the cliche, indie rock music playing at low volume. 

she can’t stand him anymore. 

“i need to go,” she says curtly, wiping her hands on her jeans and already halfway out the door when matty grabs her wrist. 

“wait—”

“what.”

“n-nothing.” it’s the first time she’s heard him stutter, first time he’s ever said something without sounding completely sure of himself. “let me just drop you home.”

it’s also the first time he’s offered to do that. 

“i have my bike.” besides there’s no need for you to see the state of the house right now, no need to come across that belligerent woman in case she’s still conscious. 

“it’s late.”

she can’t really argue with that logic. it is almost 11 at night and she might not live in a very shady neighbourhood but it’s still not the safest at this time of the night. still, she doesn’t want matty driving her around and dropping her home. that feels too vulnerable. besides, she just wants to be away from him.

he’s leaving anyway, she might as well start practising that from now on. 

“i’ll text you when you get home,” she mumbles and forces her wrist out of his hand. 

she’s out of the car and slamming the door shut before he can even protest. she’s marching across the empty road and to her bike before the absence of his warmth registers, before her body realises that she can no longer feel his skin against hers. 

before she really has a chance to let anything sink in. 

matty honks and she hisses. 

“what!”

“i’m following you home.” and then the little shit rolls up the window. 

she has half a mind to stubbornly wait him out, see how long he stays if she just refused to move but that’s a stupid plan. like it or not, it’s happening. he’s following her home. 

like it or not, she’s going to have to let him. 

“i’ll only accept your apology on one condition.”

it’s two days later that they’re back in his car—her with a guilty conscience, matty with a smug smile. 

“ugh, if you’re about to be a boy about it!”

“you haven’t even heard me out yet!”

the pit in her stomach shifts, the hollow cavity catching in her throat until she has to forcefully clear her throat and blink rapidly. it’s not that she’s completely forgiven him for wanting to leave, she hasn’t completely given up on that yet either. but she realises the way she went about it was perhaps…a bit shitty (okay it was definitely a lot shitty) 

“spring dance”

“what?!”

the words jerk her out of her thoughts so violently that she almost forget about everything else for a second. the spring fucking dance. 

matty healy, the boy who nicks chinese food and drinks cheap beer and wears ripped, skinny jeans wants to go to the spring dance. 

“right don’t look at me like i’ve asked you out to a strip club—”

“that’d be more in character—”

“oi! just… let me speak!”

and so she shuts up, puts her hands under her thighs so she won’t impulsively chew on her nails while her crush is…trying to ask her out. 

matty rolls his eyes at her and the fond smile on his face takes her breath away. 

“i want to do it. i want one last cheesy school experience before i…” he trails off, maybe not wanting to finish that sentence for her sake. or maybe because it affects him more than she thinks. “and i want to do it with you.”

“me? ooh like i’m special or something.” she tries for it to be teasing and playful, but the words come out sounding so hopeful that it knocks the breath out of her. 

“don’t pretend,” matty’s voice goes all quiet then. serious too, and suddenly he can’t meet her eyes. “don’t pretend like you don’t see it.”

“see what…”

there’s a lot in her life that she pretends not to see—half the things at home, sometimes her failing marks, sometimes the way other people look at her and whisper. but he is the one person she can’t pretend with. can’t pretend to not see the way he looks at her and acts around her. can’t pretend to not notice the way his touches linger and his smiles last longer. 

even now, she can’t pretend like he’s not looking right at her lips, leaning in a smidge at a time. wishing she’d close the gap. 

involuntarily, her eyes flutter shut. anticipating. 

she wants to feel it so fucking bad—his hands on her waist, his fingers on her skin. she wants to feel his faint stubble against the palm of her hand, his lips on hers. most of all she just wants to feel him close, to feel his breath on her skin. 

matty jerks away and a loud horn of a car breaks the spell. 

“fucking dicks!” matty rolls the window down and yells at the retreating figure of teenagers in a car, one of them even flips him off and next to him she seethes. 

fuck this, fuck everything. why can’t she just have nice things. 

why must someone come and ruin it every time. 

it takes them both a minute to breathe and settle down and meet each other’s eyes again. even then there’s a slight pink tinge on his face that makes him look adorable. 

“sorry about that…” matty mumbles and taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “so…spring dance?”

“i’d love that.”

she hopes the smile she gives him is genuine. she hopes he sees it plain and simple all over her face—all the words she hasn’t said and cannot say. 

matty smiles wide. “then i forgive you.”

and it’s like a weight gets lifted off her chest. 

“you look pretty,” her mum’s eyes roam over her body, eyeing her from head to toe, flicking over certain places again and again until she almost feels naked—like the blush pink fabric doesn’t even exist. like her mum sees right through her. 

years of this has taught her that it’s not a compliment. if anything, it’s just another trap, so she focuses on her reflection in the mirror and smiles with as much warmth as she can muster. “thanks!”

her mum reeks of wine already, maybe even a little weed but it’s nearly not enough today which is surprising. she would have expected her mum to be at some bar by now. 

“i’ll be a bit late. don’t worry i have my keys though.” 

then she scoffs to herself. when has her mum ever worried? 

“who’s taking you? to the dance.”

“wha–? oh. uh, just a few friends. only met them recently.” she winces, trying to get the last of the curls in place, trying not to be too cagey in front of her mum. she doesn’t want her mum to think she’s hiding something—mostly because it never ends well, and she can’t be arsed to deal with another screaming match right now. not when there’s a ball of anxiety and anticipation in her chest, wound so tightly that it’s slowly choking the air out of her lungs. 

she just wants to be outside. she just wants matty to see her, to call her pretty and maybe even kiss her. 

she just wants this one night with him. 

just one. 

her mum huffs and stumbles into the room. everything about this woman wants to make her shrink away—the days old stink of sweat and alcohol and cigarettes, the grime under her fingernails, her beady stare… 

even when her mum’s fingers twirl around her curl, she fights not to shrink back, to slap her mum’s hand away. 

“you look pretty,” her mum repeats. “prettier than i did when i was your age.” 

her stomach churns at the cruel edge to those words but her mum isn’t done yet. “huh–not so easy to be pretty with a seven month pregnant belly. like a fucking whale…”

and there it is. 

her fault that her mum was robbed off having normal teenage experiences. 

“right, mum,” she smiles shakily, “need to get going.”

it’s almost a miracle that her mum doesn’t say anything else. mum just backs away and lets her gather her things. she quickens her pace, heart beating in her throat, hands trembling when she picks up her small purse. 

it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay

“don’t spread your legs for that boy.”

she freezes in place, almost out the door.

“wha—”

“act dumb again and i’ll make sure you never see that boy again.” 

“mum…” she swallows harshly, prays that the tears pricking her eyes don’t spill down her cheeks. then she nods and books it out of there. better to go before her mum changes her mind. 

better to go before leaving becomes impossible. 

matty makes her forget all of it. 

the moment she sees him, the shakiness in her limbs disappears, her heart thuds in her chest for all the right reasons. he’s in a suit. a fucking suit that makes him look all grown up and handsome but then his unruly curls go all over the place and suddenly she’s laughing with the boy she’s had a crush on. 

no matter what he wears and what he looks like, he will always be that boy.

the school auditorium is full of flowers—some fake, some real. all the girls around her look stunning, dressed in colourful pretty gowns. it’s all spring incarnate. 

all night he dances effortlessly, twirls so many people around him like he’s friends with everyone. and maybe he is—he’s certainly always been so much more popular than she has. she should be the one leaving. 

but she also can’t help but stare. she wonders if he is a daydream, something her lonely mind conjured up during hours filled with boredom or after long, exhausting fights with her mum. and suddenly, he is looking right at her. sweat makes his white shirt stick to his body in the most flattering way possible, makes his sweaty curls fall into his eyes until he can barely see straight.

stop ogling! 

“staring is rude, you know?” he walks—no, saunters—over to her. suddenly, there’s not enough air left in the giant school auditorium. 

“you’ve been staring too,” she counters. and she’s right. all night she’s caught his long lingering glances that make her feel like she’s coming alive. 

like a flower blooming in spring. 

“you kinda make it hard not to stare.” so does he, she thinks. but everything, from his half smile to his relaxed posture, tells her not to inflate his ego further. she stifles the faint blush creeping up her face and shakes her head bashfully.

“come on,” he says. 

at first, she doesn’t realise what’s happening. then he whisks her away to the dance floor and her shriek of surprise turns into one of delight. she has never danced like this before but that night they dance till her heart pounds in her ears, till she can’t stand straight anymore. then they sway softly, in spite of the rock and roll playing in the background. 

“you’re beautiful,” matty smiles at her, sincere and real. 

if she discovers anything about herself that early spring night, it would be her love for dancing. it’s a feeling she’s never felt before—something that almost feels like…freedom. it’s foreign at first, all the blood coursing through her body at the speed of lightning. she tries to keep track of how many times she shrieks and laughs and jumps in excitement. all of it until matty picks her up and twirls her around. 

round and round until she’s breathless and light as air and fucking free. 

somewhere after that, she loses count. at the end of the night, her dress clings to her and matty can’t stop staring. can’t stop letting his eyes roam all over her until he’s grinning himself. his smile is boyish. perfect. and just as she’s getting self-conscious, he pulls her closer. 

“you’re fucking perfect, you know that?”

next thing she knows, matty is holding her softly against the wall and kissing her bare neck. he softly caresses her waist through her dress and she shivers against the warm spring breeze. she can feel him shaking too, almost like he’s…nervous to do anything more. to actually kiss her and shatter the moment. she can’t have that, can’t let this moment slip through her fingers. 

“kiss me,” she pleads and matty moves in an instant, his warm mouth capturing hers. like he was only waiting for her permission.  

his lips are a little chapped. far from perfect and yet electricity zings through her all at once. if it weren’t for the wall, her legs might have given out from under her. she might just be a heap on the floor, surrounded by all the spring flowers. 

matty kisses with such reckless abandon that it steals her breath away. kisses her until her heart swells in her chest, ready to burst. her fingers tangle themselves into his hair and she kisses him back with everything in her. she can’t care less about how public this is, there’s only him in this moment. 

only the two of them on a warm spring night suspended in this one moment.

she almost whines when matty pulls back. annoyed beyond belief that he’d pull away now. 

“mat—”

“it’s late.”

“it’s not!”

“it is, love.” suddenly his voice has gone gentle, almost quiet. matty pulls his old phone out of his pocket (with the screen cracked and all) and holds it in front of her. the screen flashes with 11:17

shit where did all the time go?

matty makes no move to untangle himself from her arms, still pressed against her. in her ead she forms a childlike grudge against his phone. if it weren’t for it, they would have never known what time it was…

“i hate this.” her voice comes out thick with tears and something wet hits her nose. “i don’t want to go, i don’t want you to go. please.” but even then she knows how unfair it is to put him in this situation. 

matty’s caresses her cheek, wiping away her tears, smiling at her like she’s the most gentle precious thing in the whole world. 

and maybe she is. in his world. 

“you’ll finish school too,” he says, voice a low murmur, “and then you have a uni to attend. so much shit to do. god, you’re brilliant enough to get everything you want.”

but it’s you i want. still she doesn’t say it. not just yet. 

she nuzzles his palm instead, placing a soft kiss on it. “i hate spring. i wish it was autumn instead. i’d be starting uni at least.”

“and you will,” matty reassures again. “you’re going to do so many things.”

“you won’t be here to see them…”

and there it is, all the things she’s been holding deep inside laid bare. matty looks at her for a long time and smiles sadly. “who said that? i’d find you, we will keep in touch. isn’t spring meant to be about new beginnings and all that? so why don’t we start a pact?”

“that’s a silly idea,” she teases but even then she’s eager to know what he means. 

matty ignores it. “stay here for spring and summer, finish school. i’ll find you when autumn comes.”

“you’d really do that?”

“who’s gonna help you move into uni halls huh?”

through tears she laughs. only matty could make it sound so exciting. only matty could make her hate it so much less. 

she doesn’t trust herself to speak anymore so she kisses him instead. he tastes like peaches, mint and something sweet. the very first boy she’s ever loved. the boy she will always love. 

he’s leaving soon, she knows it. who knows maybe she will wake up tomorrow and he will be gone. she feels all that passes between them and she tries to send all her longing and all her yearning down that bond. for a brief second she is determined to make matty stay through sheer willpower. 

but that would be the most selfish thing she’s ever done. and so she smiles and lets him go. 

matty might be leaving but she’ll always have this one warm spring night. even as the clock inches towards midnight and a new day threatens to arrive.

for a brief moment she wonders if she can make time stand still. this one moment stretched into eternity. 

but the minutes tick by anyway. and tomorrow comes anyway.

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[loves0phelia]

hi could you rewrite the scene in ep 6 season 2 where Electra (now y/n) and Matt kiss to not get caught by security but add your own twist please? :)))

Faking Kiss

Summery: After years you and Matt meet again during a mission?

Words: 3.1k

Warning: Spicy (not smut), violence, grammar mistakes.

A/N: Thank you for requesting i love this scene!

While girls your age were learning to ride bikes or learning how to count to one hundred you were taught how to take a punch. 

The people who had taken you from your family had taken away your childhood. You never got to dress up for Halloween, to go out and knock on people’s doors for candies. You never fell asleep to your mother singing you a lullaby. You never got to sit in a class along with other kids to learn.

You watch kids do all those things while you were perched on a roof with a sniper in hand. You dreamed of being like them. You needed to be free.

As you grew up you started gaining interest in law and justice so you stole books from local libraries while you were supposed to be on missions to kill and read, read and read again. You taught yourself everything you needed to know.

At the age of 17, you took the opportunity to run away. After reading various magazines about college and teenage life you created yourself a name, a life. Before that, all you were was a number amongst others.

During a mission, targeting a wealthy man, you removed the tracker in your neck, changed into civilian clothing, and stowed away your black leather suit in your backpack

Immediately after losing contact with you, the men you worked for began looking for you. For two years you stayed hidden, away from the radar, until at 19 you applied to college.

Since your escape, your once-short hair had grown long, your body changed, seamlessly blending you into society. With fake birth certificates, you became Y/N Y/L/N without any complications. Your fraud skills even secured you a spot at Columbia University in New York. Admittedly, it may have been risky, but you desired more than anything, to pursue law and justice, to help others unlike those who had disappointed you.

During college, you made your first friends. Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson. It was everything you ever dreamed of.

COLLEGE MEMORY

A very drunk guy with dirty blond hair laughed loudly as he swayed side to side with a white walking cane he held for support. 

“Watch out everybody! I'm blind, Matt Murdock!” he laughed, still walking like he had 5 shots of vodka in his system.

“Most people just say- Matt Murdock” The brunette who wore sunglasses, held his stomach as he laughed. 

“I look like most people?” he asked genuinely.

“I don't know, I can't see” The blind guy answered in a cocky way, proud of his joke.

“Well at the moment that might be a blessing, because I'm the only one who can see the beautiful girl in front of us”  That's what made you look up from your newly bought law book, that you had bought with your very own money. It was the first book you didn't steal from the library since you ran away and you were fascinated by it. 

“Oh?” The blind student stopped abruptly just like his friend had done.

“Hi,” The blond said, catching you off guard. Nobody had yet to try and talk to you on campus since school started about a month ago. 

You looked behind you to make sure he was talking to you and when you realized he was you answered his greetings. Your voice came out more like a whisper.

“Are you studying on a Saturday night?!” He yelled when he noticed the book on your knees that you were previously reading. You nodded and he gasped.

"Hey, Foggy, maybe we should give that a shot too," suggested the other, the extroverted one objected immediately.

“So beautiful lady, I'm Foggy and this boring one over here is Matt what's your name?” his eyebrows wiggled like gummy worms as he flirted making you giggle. 

You didn't know that Matt was starstruck by you. Your laugh, your scent and your aura were something right out of his dreams. 

You gave them your name and like you guys were friends for years, Foggy extended his hand down to you asking you to accompany them on a night of, and you quote, “mischievous adventures”

You grabbed his hand and he pulled you up to your feet before you guys started walking nowhere but everywhere at the same time.

As the night ended and the sun started waking, you walked to their dorm and when you entered, you watched Matt help Foggy into his bed like a toddler who had fallen asleep on the ride back home from the amusement park.

You chuckled as you watched him struggle, and a few minutes later, Matt and you quietly slipped out into the hallway.

“Hopefully we'll see you soon?” His hand brushed yours. You thought it was by accident but if only you knew how Matt had desperately tried to touch a part of your body all night. 

“Of course” Your smile was shy. You couldn't understand the strange fluttering feeling in your stomach as he looked at you. It was like something you had never experienced before.

After that night you three spent the integrality of the college year stuck together like glue. Every Saturday day was destined to hang out. Matt and you came so close to admitting your feelings but just as you were about to, they found you.

Freshly graduated, diploma in hand, you strode proudly toward the rendezvous point Foggy and Matt had designated. As you rounded the concrete wall outside, you spotted a car with tinted windows. Even though the car seemed inconspicuous, your heart sank as you noticed four men standing beside it. Locking eyes with one of them, a chill ran down your spine as the man pointed directly at you. Without hesitation, they all sprang into action, sprinting in your direction.

You dropped everything. Your diploma you were so proud of, your backpack with the books you had bought and your life.

END

Each passing year saw you found yourself in new cities or even countries, determined to evade their pursuit. But fate seemed to have other plans when you discovered yourself in Hell's Kitchen at the same time as them. Now, it was your chance to turn the tables and finally catch them.

You mapped out their plan and you found out they were organizing a gala to target parents with children they could steal and turn into their hit man.

You dressed up in the prettiest silk white dress you could find, your hair, now dyed in a different colour, was half up and half down curled and even though your features had changed a lot since your college years you applied makeup to make you unrecognizable.

You entered the gala with no problem. You were trained well you knew better than to get caught the first second.

Soft music and the clinking of champagne glasses rang in your head as you slipped away from the scene. You had to find out where they were keeping the children and you needed information. You knew exactly where to get it.

In a vault, in the boss's office. You would find the exact location.

You spotted a bodyguard, guarding the elevator as you made your way to it. You could have taken the stairs but you needed to be the least suspicious possible.

"Sorry, ma'am, but upstairs is off-limits, restricted area," he informed you, eyeing you up and down, prompting you to fake a pout in response.

“Ugh, the bathroom downstairs is all taken and I have to fix my lipstick, really bad” You crossed your arm under your chest purposely putting on display your breast.

You smirked when his eyes shifted to take a look.

“If it's just for lipstick I guess I can make an exception.” 

"Seriously? You're an angel," you beamed, giving his arms a playful rub as he obligingly pressed the floor button. With a ding, the doors slid open, allowing you to step inside. As the doors closed behind you, a smirk crept onto your face. It was too easy, as always. 

Now on the upper floor, you began looking everywhere for what could be the main office.

Your heels echoed loudly on the floor, earning a frustrated groan from you. Why did they have to be so loud?

You tried walking more discreetly until you bumped into a muscular body. The impact made your hair fall in front of your eyes, shielding your vision. His hands grabbed your forearms and before you could try to beat the man you were pushed against the wall in a dark hallway.

As his hand loosened, you quickly pushed your hair out of your face. Your eyes widened in surprise as you recognized the man you had bumped into.

“Matt?” You barely finished the word before his hand was on your mouth preventing you from uttering another word.

“Someone is coming” You stopped mumbling beneath his hand to be let free after he whispered in your ear. Everything was so silent you thought he was crazy until you heard the faint sound of boots approaching.

The guard paced down the dim hallway, clutching his weapon tightly, while you and Matt stood in the shadows. After he passed, you exhaled in relief as Matt gently released his hand from your lips.

“Matt,” you said, dumbfounded. Between all the people you could've run into it had to be him. The guy who you left behind without any explanation.

“You shouldn't be here y/n, it's dangerous,”  He said and your brows furrowed. How had he recognized you? 

“How did you know it's me?” you asked and he shook his head.

“It doesn't matter, you need to leave. These people who organized this gala are bad.” 

“I know Matt, I'm here to stop them” You admitted it wasn't time to come up with a lie. Even behind his glasses, you could see the confusion etched on his face.

“How did you know about them?”

“Why are you here?” You both speak over each other and before you could let him talk again his head snapped to the side, listening to something you couldn't hear.

“One of the guards is talking about you”

“How do you know that-” he shushed you and continued.

“He says you went to apply your lipstick but never came down?” he said, making you groan, you had taken too much time talking with him.

“It's a dumb excuse I used to get up here. Now if you would excuse me I have something to do” You pushed him gently out of your way and went to walk out of the hallway he had pulled you into. His hand quickly grabbed on to your arm again tugging you back.

"You follow me," he growled into your ear and then started walking. You couldn't quite explain why you trusted a blind man to lead you, but you did.

Almost like he knew exactly what you were looking for, he pushed open the door to the main office you were targeting. Flipping the light switch, the room flooded with brightness, light bouncing off mirrors to create an almost blinding effect.

You began opening every door, every drawer looking for the piece of information you needed. But you saw no signs of a vault or anything of the sort. You grabbed your hair in frustration. 

“What are you looking for?” he asked.

“Information where the kids they have captive might be. It was supposed to be in a vault in this exact room but I can't find anything”

“How do you know about the kids” 

“Because I was one of them” he listened to your heartbeat, he knew you weren't lying.

He wanted to ask more questions but he knew it wasn't the right time. You were running out of time, not gaining.

As he concentrated on the beat of your heart a harsh buzzing interfered with the soft sound.

He walked and touched the bookshelf with his fingers. He could hear the electricity travelling in the walls. 

He felt an interruption in the current when his finger grazed an old Shakespeare book. He pulled it down, and a secret door revealed itself.

“Holy shit, how did you know?” you smiled and walked into the tiny space the door that previously opened allowed you to walk in.

“I could hear the signal”

“Through the walls?”

"I can hear a lot of things. Look in this drawer," he directed, saving you the trouble of opening every single one by pointing you to the correct drawer.

 The paper with all the information you needed was on top of the files and books. Not very well hidden.

“We have to go, now” You folded the paper and quickly shoved it inside your bra.

You both ran in the main hallway but before you could get to the elevator an alarm started blaring and blue lights flashed. Matt grabbed your hand and dragged you to an empty conference room and through the frosted glass you could see multiple shadows with guns searching for you.

“You have to stay behind me okay? I don't want you to get hurt” You say before tying your hair up. 

"Oh, I know how to fight, sweetheart," he declared just before the men barged into the room where you were hiding. Without hesitation, Matt slid over the table and delivered a kick to one of them in the face.

Impressed but confused you had a sudden surge of energy, you sprang into action, fists flying and they clashed into jaws and noses. The room echoed with the sound of impact as yours and Matt’s strikes landed with an intense force.

Your movements were fluid and precise as you used your kicks and punches against the attackers. You and Matt fought as one, your movements synchronized almost perfectly.

And when the last men fell, defeated and broken, you both stood almost unarmed. But not for long.

you ran to the next level almost getting caught once again. However, you managed to hide again in another room. That's when the idea came to you.

“Kiss me” you whispered as you started to pull down your hair from your ponytail, making them cascade messily down your back.

"What?" he asked, his brows furrowing as he struggled to process what you said. 

"Kiss me, Matt, please," you pleaded. Without hesitation, he captured your lips with his own. 

As you kissed, you instinctively reached for his tie and pulled it. Your hands unbuttoned his shirt and you whispered against his lips.

“Act like we're having sex and act drunk” his lips went to your neck and his tongue laid against your pulse. You moaned loudly, exaggerating it a little.  Without needing to say anything his hand gripped your waist and lifted you on the table you were leaning on. His hands went higher and higher until he was pulling down the straps of your dress. At the same time, you lifted your leg and put it around his hip and his free hand grabbed it and squeezed the skin. His mouth came back to yours and he kissed you until you couldn't breathe.

You let out another moan of his name when the guards entered and put you both at gunpoint. 

“Don't move!” he yelled.

You and Matt put on a show of surprise. Giggling, you swayed on your feet, mimicking the unsteady movements of someone who had too much to drink.

“We are so sorry,” Matt said out of breath and tried buttoning his white shirt.

“We thought we could sneak in here… we'll be right out of here” he laughed before turning and the man grabbed his collar and pushed him roughly. Your heart rate elevated when you saw this.

“Be careful with him!” You said as you tried to wipe the red stain of lipstick that had smudged on your chin.

As the man restrained Matt, he aimed his flashlight directly at his unseeing eyes, prompting an eye roll from Matt that spoke volumes.

 Meanwhile, the second guard firmly gripped your arm, holding you in place. With a nod, the guard said in his walkie-talkie that the situation was under control and that neither you nor Matt was a threat.

“You need to leave,” he said and Matt continued apologizing before earning a firm “ Now!” from the man.

You grabbed his hand and walked away from them with a small laugh. You both walked to the now working elevator and entered with nothing opposing, 

“I don't know what you are Matt Murdock but you're not human” You laughed when the door closed. “You can hear through walls and fight while also being blind?” You heard him snort after you finished your sentence.

"We have a lot to talk about," Matt murmured as the doors of the elevator opened, lacing your hands and sharing a light-hearted chuckle at the absurdity of the evening. You both walked out of the Gala.

Making your way to your car, you glanced at Matt, wordlessly telling him your desire for him to join you. Without a word, he understood, falling into step beside you as you unlocked the car door.

You settled into the driver's seat, and he quietly took his place beside you. A moment of comfortable silence passed before you broke it with a teasing tone.

"Are you going to tell me how you did all that?" 

He met your gaze, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Are you going to tell me why you disappeared?"

 "If you spill your secrets first." you shrugged.

 "Fine, I'm Daredevil," he confessed.

 "What?!" your eyes grew three sizes and he simply nodded.

“I have so many questions,” you said as you wondered,

“Your turn” he grinned.

"Remember I told you those men raised me as a child earlier?" you began, your voice trembling a little. "Well, I ran away, and on the day of graduation because they found me. I had to leave everything behind. I loved you guys so much, Matt. I never wanted to leave, but I didn't have a choice."

With each word you spoke, he could feel the sincerity in your voice, and not once did your heart falter or deceive.

His hand grabbed yours for the millionth time that night.

"I was so lost without you," Matt confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Me too," you replied softly. 

"I don't want to lose you again," Matt admitted, his voice filled with a quiet intensity.

You intertwined your fingers in a silent promise. "You won't," you assured him.

At that moment, as you sat together in the car, you knew that you had overcome the past. Nothing would separate you and Matt. If anyone or anything tried to pull you apart you would fight it together.

[p0ssywhippedcream]

a/n; totally just rewatched s1ep3 of the 100 and it shows (the inspo scene w Atom, Clarke and Bellamy made me bawl HARD). TW for animal death and the usual criminal minds gore/death talk.

The day Hotch falls in love with you is dark and cold, but your presence alone lightens it. A case drags your team to the wilderness of the foggy Appalachians, the unsub leaving a string of bodies through the mountains and across state lines. So far, 23 of them had been located.

Your team had been split, duos of you all tackling different perspectives. JJ and Morgan at the sheriffs office, Emily and Rossi interviewing families and Reid focusing on the online footprint with Garcia, who was not happy to be physically present instead of in her Batcave.

That left you and Hotch to miserably trudge through the winding hills, surrounded by deputies and trees as far as the eye can see. It’s a cool day, wind chill gusting through your zippered jacket as you follow the path that had previously unearthed corpses. Hotch is silent at your side, the two of you deep in thought as you make your way down to the river bed now claimed by an aura of death.

You walk along the bay, flat stones shine in the rushing water and leaves crunch beneath your feet.

“How many?” You breath out, voice an octave above a squeak. “How many more are we going to find here?”

Hotch’s dark eyes find yours when you turn your gaze to his intense face. “Too many.”

You nod, dropping your sight back to your feet and walk another step before halting suddenly. The man at your side freezes a pace in front of you, spinning to question your pause when he notices you squating down.

“Another body?” He asks gravely, ready to signal to a nearby officer when you make a choked noise.

“No,” You look up at him through thick eyelashes and he sees the quivering mammal at your feet, “It’s a squirrel.”

He kneels with you, the fabric of his pricey suit the last thing on his mind as it rubs in the dirt.

He watches you glove yourself and lift its bloodied limbs, examining the creature for the source of its misery. When you find the puncture marks at its torso and see how deep they go, your heart deflates. Another life you can’t save.

You know enough that the pain must be unbearable, and the squirrel would suffer for atleast another hour before death would naturally come. With a heavy sigh, you reach into your back pocket and retrieve your switch blade.

Hotch watches you flick it open, brain at the same conclusion and lips set in a line as he waits for you to take mercy. Instead, his eyes widen a nudge when you begin to hum.

With your left hand, you stroke the creatures head gently as your right holds steady to your blade. Your throat murmurs a soft lullaby, a song your mother used to sing to put you to sleep seeping into the air.

“You’re okay,” You whisper, bringing your knife down and hovering just above its shaking form, “I’ve got you, you’re okay.”

Swift and careful, you darken the steel with the little blood left in the squirrels body. You continue to hum, love and compassion in your saddened voice as you pet the critter until its breath ghosts its mouth no more.

You lose a weighted lungful, the pressure of it in your chest almost unbearable. “You’re okay.” You say one last time, running a finger down the creatures spine, missing the look in Hotch’s eye as he observes your treatment. He spent the whole time with his vision set on you; not because he couldn’t handle the sight of death but because watching your kind heart weep through your actions bent his in a strange way. A familiar tug in his chest, one he hadn’t felt since Hailey, kept his eyes locked on you as you took the pain from the woodland soul and added it to the mountain of your own.

Hesitantly, a large hand finds your shoulder and you look up from your mourning to see your boss’s brows knit in care, intense pupils warming you with a comfort you’d never felt from him.

“I’m okay,” You reassure, a slight smile falters at attempting to take your lips. Hotch nods, a squeeze of your jacket and he retreats his touch.

Neither of you speak as you stand, go through the motions of discarding your gloves into the trash and continue on down the trail. Words rumble in your head behind closed lips, worries regarding the case buzz violently like a provoked bee hive, your brain frantic to find hope for life in the ever-deepening void of despair. Hotch keeps a trained eye on you, out of concern and also a bit from this new feeling that burrows in his ribcage.

A shout from a nearby blue-coat informs your duo of the discovery of a new corpse, prompting conversation again between the two of you as you race over.

You come to halt in front of the body. She’s fresher than others, you can see the lines of smiles on her face and youth in her skin. Her blonde hair matted with red like the squirrel you’d just encountered. You think of the pain it takes to be alive, the pain death takes when it comes to an end. You know she suffered, and it makes you grow a headache thinking of all these people hurting for the same sadistic demon.

“She doesn’t suffer anymore.” You look up, Hotch is already looking at you with an unreadable expression. He knows what you’re thinking just from the divot of your teeth in your lip. “Sometimes, that’s all we can tell ourselves.”

Your aching heart swells, the blood pumps a little easier. You nod and take a full breath for the first time in 20 minutes.

“And the man who did this will feel their pain for the rest of his life, when we put him away.”

You feel the effort behind each word, knowing Hotch is a man of few, and it makes inspecting the body easier, makes the search through freezing fog more worth the dreadful discoveries . The day you fall in love with Hotch is gray and cold, but he warms it with the fire of his tongue and the hearth of softness in his eyes.

[babyboydaniel]

Lullaby | Part 2

Daniel Ricciardo x Lando Norris | Mentions of Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Reader, Lando Norris x Fem!Reader Fluff | Warnings: Suggestive Themes | Word Count: 1.3K Daniel and Lando's story after Knock, Knock.

Everything was so warm and soft. Lando did not want to leave his little comforting bubble. But, as the seconds ticked by, he could feel sleep slip away from his clutches. The fogginess lifted from his eyes as they slowly opened. Lando woke up to an eye full of Daniel’s chest. The details of the night before slowly came back to him. His cheeks flushed, and a tiny smile graced his lips. 

Daniel’s hand came up to run his fingers through Lando’s curls. Lando moaned in contentment. He could get used to waking up like this. 

“Lando?” Daniel questioned quietly. 

“Mmmhmm?” Lando responded. The thought of using complete words seemed like too much of an effort. 

“You awake yet?”

Instead of answering, Lando pressed his face further into Daniel’s chest. Grumbling as his arms tightened around him. 

Daniel chuckled, “I will take that as a yes.”

Moments pass before Lando feels ready enough to meet Daniel’s gaze. Pulling back from the comfort of Daniel’s embrace, Lando glanced up to look at the man he was pressed against. Sleep still cloaked Daniel’s features, his features round and his curls amiss. Lando could get used to seeing Daniel like that. So open and vulnerable. 

“Good morning,” Daniel smiled. 

“Good morning,” replied Lando. 

Daniel gently caressed Lando’s cheek, his thumb running along his bottom lip. Without thinking, Lando’s tongue flicked out to swipe across the wandering digit. Pulling it slightly between his parted lips. Daniel’s breath hitched as he stared at this thumb against Lando’s pillowy lips. His eyes darkened under the faint morning light. 

“Lando,” Daniel began. 

Lando beamed, “You said more kisses.”

Daniel chuckled but slowly leaned in, watching for every minuscule reaction of the others before delicately pressing his lips to Lando’s. Lando immediately melted under his touch. The kiss was tender, neither of them rushing to take it further. Just two people learning each other. Everything that comes after can wait until later. After they talk and when they have more time. 

Then, the blare of ringtone rang out throughout the room. Both of them jumped at the disruption, laughing as they pulled away from one another. 

“That’s me,” Daniel said as he scrambled to grab his phone from the bedside table. 

As Daniel answered the phone, Lando returned to his place against his teammate's chest. 

“Hi babe,” Lando heard Daniel greet the person on the other side of the phone. 

“Hi. You just get up?” Lando heard in response either Daniel had this call on speakerphone or he answered a Facetime call while in his bed. Based on the voice, it could only be one person, Daniel’s girlfriend. 

As the call went on, Daniel continued to run his hand through his hair. Almost lulling him back to sleep. He let his eyes close, and his mind wandered. 

“Lando, do you want to say hi?” Daniel interrupted after a couple of minutes. 

Lando nodded, “Of course.” He shifted so he sat against the headboard and snuggled against Daniel. His teammate angled the phone, ensuring that they both could be seen. Daniel’s girlfriend was how he remembered from only a couple of nights ago. He had not spoken to her since leaving the hotel room that Monday morning, so he was unsure how awkward the encounter would be. 

“Hi,” she beamed. Her beautiful smile brightened up her face.

“Hi, how are you?” Lando responded. 

“Good, good. I hope Daniel was not the absolutely worst bedmate. I know he can be a bit of a blanket hog,” her eyes sparkled as she teased him. 

“Hey!” Daniel exclaimed. 

Lando laughed, “No, he was on his best behavior.”

“Good, feel free to keep him in line if he isn’t.”

“Believe me, I will,” he stated as Daniel pulled him closer. Lando saw his girlfriend glance at how close they were, but there seemed to be nothing but acceptance in her eyes. Not one ounce of negativity could be detected. It did enough to dampen his nerves just a bit. 

“Well, my two favorite boys, as much as I hate to, I have to get going,” she stated with a pout. 

With goodbyes from both sides and Daniel’s promise to see her soon, they hung up. It was just the two of them again. Lando could not help but let his thoughts pull him deeper into his mind. He had no clue where he stood with Daniel. He knew how he felt and was unprepared to get his heart broken. Not that anyone ever was. 

“I can practically hear you thinking,” Daniel stated as he pulled Lando closer, “I know we need to talk, but we need to get to the track before people start looking for us.”

Lando nodded and pulled Daniel into a kiss, already missing his lips against his. He always found the Aussie’s presence grounding. A wave of calm washed over him as he let those worrying thoughts float away. Daniel’s lips moved against his as if trying to erase doubts from his mind. He licked into his parted lips, Lando moaning as he let him in. Lando shifted until he was straddling Daniel’s lap, and his hands wound around his neck, tugging at the soft hair at the nape of his neck. His teammate’s hands skimmed along his sides until they clutched his hips, pressing him closer. Every millimeter of them touching, nothing left between them. 

Lando groaned as he ground against Daniel’s growing member. If he did not have to drive a car that day, he would beg Daniel to fuck him. He was not above it. Both rutted against each other. The whimpers Daniel was making below him spurred him on. He could listen to the noises he made on repeat. Daniel began kissing and biting down his neck, unfortunately not hard enough to leave any marks. 

“Lando, baby, we need to get going,” he murmured to his skin. 

Lando sighed, “But I want you.”

“Believe me, I want you too. But we are already running late,” Daniel laughed, pulling away from Lando’s neck. His honey-brown eyes met Lando’s gaze. 

Lando rolled his eyes but moved from Daniel’s lap and off the side of the bed. 

Daniel chuckled and got off the bed himself, “Don’t be a brat.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando grumbled before walking over to his open suitcase to pull out his outfit for the day, going for the typical McLaren uniform. 

Daniel was silent as he moved around the room, but as Lando stood up, he felt his arms wrap around his waist, drawing him back against his chest. Daniel’s lips found home at the base of his neck, slowly licking up until he reached the shell of his ear. Daniel’s hands dipped beneath the hem of his shirt as he whispered, “Be a good boy for me and behave.”

Lando shuddered as his words spread across his body. “Daniel,” Lando whined. 

“Time for you to shower, and I will see you at the track,” he responded as his fingers brushed over Lando’s sensitive nipples. The moan that poured from Lando’s mouth was pornographic. He pressed his chest into Daniel’s hands, wanting more. However, Daniel was not having any of that. He pulled his arms from around Lando and stepped back from his body. 

“Tease,” Lando chided as he turned around to face him. 

“Behave,” Daniel warned with an amused smile on his lips. 

Lando stepped into Daniel’s space and quickly pressed a kiss to his cheek before heading towards the bathroom door. 

“See ya at the track,” he called over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him. 

He could hear Daniel’s signature cackle from beyond the wood door, followed by the heavy hotel door promptly closing. As much as he wanted to invite Daniel to shower with him, he knew he would have more time with him later. He was sure that the wait would be worth it. Anything from Daniel is worth waiting for.

Part 1 | Part 3

[vigilxnte-shit]

i can see you || matt murdock x éliette de castillon || one-shot

summary: éliette de castillon is 19 years old and engaged to a 22-year-old law student. as far as everyone is concerned, she’s eager to marry and lead a god-fearing life, but a certain blind classmate of her fiancé can’t help the way she takes over his senses.

word count: 2,993

warnings: angsty kind of?? STEAMY. MAKING OUUUUUT. no smut but it gets kind of close, el is engaged to another guy while making out with matt. mentions of emotional abuse. also not edited and its 2:30 AM as i’m starting this

a/n: I DO NOT CONDONE CHEATING this is a one-off instance where it’s lowkey kind of hot and also el’s fiancé sucks ass. once again thanks to yuna for the inspo <3

this is an 18+ blog. minors dni. || masterlist

matt murdock saw the world in a different way than most. he had lived without his sight since he was nine, moving through a world on fire with as much grace as one could muster. he smelled every tear leaking from an eye somewhere in the room, heard each cry and moan and shout as he walked the streets at night. matt murdock couldn’t see, but he could feel, a reality that often made the world seem loud and undefeatable and evil.

and then he met el.

el smelled like vanilla and cashmere wood, a scent matt had picked up on half the girls in his classes- clearly, it had to be sold out at the mall right now. despite that, despite it’s overuse, it smelled different on el, unique, warm and soft and scrumptious. it was the first thing his senses picked up on when she sat next to him on the clubhouse fireplace. he’d smelled the exact fragrance on foggy’s date from last friday, but this time it was intoxicating. this time it was enticing.

he turned to face her then, ready to make a move based on scent alone. he didn’t need anything else, he wanted his lips on her skin, but as he turned to her he paused.

her heartbeat was racing. her breath was jagged and raspy, choppy, uneven, a sensation that he knew too well. her temperature was rising, he could taste the salt in the budding tears, and he knew he had to say something.

“hey, are you okay?” he asked. he sensed the turn, could tell she was facing him now, but she remained speechless for the shortest moment. she was taking him in. he was used to that. 

“your breath picked up,” he explained softly. the last thing he wanted was to raise her anxieties, to spike that precious heartbeat even more- he just wanted to explain himself. “it sounded like you were about to hyperventilate.”

he heard her heartbeat begin to slow, the milliseconds between beats starting to lose their numbers and her lungs taking in their oxygen more slowly. he didn’t let himself smile on the outside, but he felt it internally. he’d done something to help.

“i…i’m okay, thank you.”

in that moment, matt could have sworn the floor had given out and sent him straight to heaven. her voice was soft and warm, laced with the smallest hints of a foreign accent on the end of the words- french, he would later learn. in the moment, though, he didn’t care. god himself could not have bestowed a damn about the origin of her accent, all that matt knew was he wanted her to start talking and never stop.

éliette de castillon became his own phantom that night. he went to bed with her voice echoing in his head, with the scent of her vanilla perfume stuck in his nostrils that he hoped would never leave. the sound of her slowed, peaceful heartbeat, the gentle warmth in her cheeks- she was a walking lullaby, a fresh cup of chamomile tea on a chilly winter’s night. and sure, he couldn’t tell what she looked like. he had no clue what her skin tone was, what shade of hair she had or the color of those undoubtedly gorgeous eyes. but matt could see éliette de castillon, and that vision was enough to make her his very own patron saint.

he spoke with her three more times before she married samuel joseph. two more parties; both garish and loud and overstimulating, leading to them heading outside to talk on the local playground for hours; and one fateful five-o-clock in a maintenance closet. 

it was an icy december evening, three days before the end of the semester. the last party they had been to was a fortnight prior, and el had been haunting him since. he’d learned to zero in on her scent amongst the hundreds of girls wearing the same one: she paired it with a caramel body wash and the natural fragrance of her skin, just defined enough she stood out in the overcrowded smellscape, and he knew she passed by him at least once a day. her heartbeat varied in an out, and he usually heard her humming to herself- musicals, pop songs, classic rock. anything. she could have hummed to a sports broadcast, and he would have listened with the fascination of a child in a space museum.

she’d told him at that party she didn’t want to marry sam. that she was desperate and terrified of him, that he mocked her smallest mistakes and encouraged his friends to do the same. she was only marrying him to get away from her foster parents, to escape the life she’d lived in italian catholic purgatory ever since frank had left for the military. she had let matt hug her, and he’d spent each of those fourteen days dreaming of the day he could experience that again. her body was perfect, everything he’d dreamed of. she’d felt like she was made for his arms, the way her waist dipped in right at his arms’ height, her head perfectly on his shoulder and that irresistible vanilla signature strong in his nose. she’d only pulled away after a second too long, and she’d stared at his lips after- he felt her hesitation, the wheels turning in her head as she debated and then shut down the second sam announced his arrival.

he hadn’t been able to focus in class. he’d barely even updated foggy on his love life, too busy thinking about the chances of talking her into breaking it off. he could not care less about preserving his friendship with sam, about keeping things in line with the future district attorney, as he gratuitously called himself. no, matt only cared about taking the dove clean out of sam’s hands before he could clip her wings. 

even now, walking down the hallway from the library, matt thought of it. he felt around with the cane he didn’t need, almost swinging it as he dreamed of their embrace and her heartbeat and her voice and the way she spoke french. his heart had been dropped in her backpack, carried around with her all day, and matt didn’t care to get it back. she could keep it, she could stomp on it, she could toss it out the window and run it over with her car- it was hers to keep and destroy if she wanted. 

he made it almost to the entrance, head in the clouds and feet about to join it, when his nose picked it up. he froze in his tracks and his cane with him, sniffing around, trying to figure out it’s direction. that was el’s perfume. undeniably, definitively el’s.

before he knew what he was doing, he followed it. he had the thought to fold up his cane and toss it in his bag, to drop the act of needing it and just find her, but in the end he didn’t even need it. the smell got stronger, and he paused as his fingers brushed another’s.

“hi, matt.”

it was like sunshine on a spring morning, a fresh-baked cookie after a long day. he couldn’t think straight, all he could muster was vanilla warm sweet as he reached for her hand. 

“el, we need to talk.” 

he couldn’t see her furrowed brow, but she didn’t protest, letting him drag her back up the hallway. she asked for an explanation, checked to make sure he was okay, but he didn’t answer. he walked to the closest supply closet as fast as his feet would carry him, following the closest smell of bleach to get him there.

when he pulled her into the closet, she hesitated. he couldn’t blame her- this was sudden and so shocking, even he didn’t fully process what was happening. he couldn’t give her an answer, though, just pulled her in and locked the door behind them. 

in the tiny closet, he barely remembered to switch on the lights. he hung his backpack on the hook and took el’s messenger bag off her shoulders, not answering her questions. once both bags were safely hanging on the back of the door, he pulled his glasses from the bridge of his nose, tucking the rectangular lenses into the water bottle pocket on the side of his bag. 

“matt, what is going on,” she demanded. “you’re acting so strange, we’re in a supply-”

her mouth stopped the second his hands touched her face. she froze completely, and he couldn’t help but pause to take in the entire sensation. her stunned silence, the sensation of her cheeks heating, her speeding heartbeat and that damned perfume. the silence was a perfect backdrop as he slowly traced his thumbs over his cheekbones, the bridge of her nose, her lips.

“don’t marry sam.” it was whispered, reverent, a sign of worship. a show of devotion. 

he heard her breath catch and felt her eyes searching his. the whole room felt like it was rising in temperature, like at any second foundation would collapse and the ceiling would cave in on them from the sheer tension in the room. 

“matt.” her voice was near silent, quiet as a dandelion seed, it would have carried away on the wind had they been outside. her soft, fragile fingers covered his, a second frame for the beauty he held between his hands. “matt, you…i can’t just…”

“you can.” he nodded, biting his lip with an air of certainty. “you can. you can tell him no. you can take it back, tell him you’ve changed your mind, and leave him behind.” one hand dropped from her face, taking hers and kissing each of her knuckles. “el, he isn’t good for you. your sparkle fades the second you hear his voice.”

“what would i tell him?!” she squeezed his interlaced hand, never taking her eyes from his intense, gorgeous, unseeing gaze. “what would i say? i can’t- i can’t just leave-”

“it’s your life, el.” the sentence lingered, hung in the air and stagnated. he had fired the bullet. “it’s not his.” 

verbal lightning had struck the room. all that remained was stillness and electricity and static, two people and their frazzled minds and a life-changing decision.

she wasn’t saying she loved sam. that was what matt kept saying to himself, that in the midst of it all, in the silence and the conversation and the nights at parties, she had never once declared that she loved sam. 

and now el was silent. quieter than a nun during the eucharist, than the falling snow on the night they’d first met. no words escaped her lips, and he could taste her strawberry lip balm even with the distance. he sensed it as her eyes dropped to his own lips, her focus undivided and her heart rate slowly climbing. he could hear the blood rushing, imagined the pink in her cheeks.

slowly, he released her left hand. he moved his right forward to hold her waist, his fingers brushing the soft polyester of her shirt. his left pinkie and ring finger curled just under her jaw, a gentle tug, a silent request.

“tell me to stop,” he whispered.

“no,” she answered.

the distance between them was closed in seconds. el’s lip were the softest paradise he’d ever experienced, soft and hydrated, coated with a strawberry flavor that could have been candy. he stole kiss after kiss from her lips, her breath escaping in delicate whimpers between lips and touches and emotions. his right hand found its way slowly up her side, his languid fingers coming to her neck- not to squeeze, just to hold. 

“can i go further?” matt whispered. his free hand migrated from her cheek to her hair, lightly gripping a handful and pressing his forehead to hers. “tell me if you don’t want this, el.”

she nodded. he smiled at the feeling of her hair as she did, still holding it gently.

“words, el.”

“i do.”

he didn’t know it at the time, but he’d think of those two words for years. he’d spend days agonizing over them, weeks on his knees in the church, begging god to bring his el back so she could repeat it over the altar this time. he’d spend five years wondering how she was doing, if she was okay, if she’d lost her sense of flight. 

but for now, it was enough. it was enough for him to tighten his grip in her hair and slip his tongue past her lips, kissing her as though she was the only thing he had ever wanted, the only prize he could ever dream of winning. 

he had to press her against the wall, press one hand to the wall next to her head to stabilize himself. she tasted like summer breezes and cozy nights, like a strawberry shortcake on a blanket in the middle of june. each breath stolen was a treasure for his collection, a moment to add to the track for each time he felt unmotivated or lonely or sad. she giggled when he bit her lip, tugging the bottom between his teeth with a slightly harsh nibble. 

“you’re an angel, el,” he whispered, fastening his hold in her hair to pull her head to the side. “you’re a goddess. too heavenly to be on this earth.” with his newfound angel, matt’s lips trailed to her jawline. he left open-mouhted, sloppy, and passionate kisses down her features and onto her neck, nipping at the skin and sucking a bruise to her collarbone.

a mistake that would haunt him for the next half a decade. 

suddenly, el’s eyes snapped open. “matt, stop. i can’t.” 

without hesitating, he pulled away. his stomach dropped, his sightless eyes blown wide and beautiful despite the panic rushing over him. had he done something wrong? had he upset her?

he waited in agonizing silence, listening as she straightened her clothes and fixed her hair. there was a sadness in her movements, a slowness and hesitation that he began ignoring as soon as she picked up her bag and stopped his world from spinning. 

“matt, you’re amazing,” she said softly. he recognized the edge of tears in her voice. he had no clue how to fix that. 

“you’re kind, and you’re smart, and you’re so handsome.” matt felt his heart sinking. he didn’t care for the compliments, he didn’t care for the praise- he wanted her. he wanted her in his life, in his house, in his bed. he couldn’t move as he heard her swallow.

“and i really hope you find a girl even have as spectacular as you.”

with those words, el stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind her. at first, matt thought to follow her. chase her down, get on his knees if he had to, tell her he would take her to the courthouse tomorrow and make her a murdock if it would get her out of this. 

he didn’t, though. he listened as her steps synced up with the cracks in his breaking heart, waiting for her to leave the building, to get to her dorm. he never moved the entire time, just sat and listened and thought. 

he pushed the thoughts out of his head- of her, miserable and afraid, living on the whims of an idiot lawyer and his pastor paychecks. he thought of how she said sam had never hugged her like that, never held her or listened to her thoughts, and how she had just walked right back into that fate. how she had stared freedom in the eyes and been too scared to step forward. 

matt couldn’t sleep that night. he tossed and turned, replaying el’s whimpers in his head, touching his lips and wishing it was her. he knew he couldn’t do it. he couldn’t just let her accept such a loveless destiny, leave her to a shadow of loneliness and way too many kids on an upstate farmhouse.

he got out of bed at 6am, the morning sun fresh in the sky as he ran to her dorm. he’d never been before, only been told the address, and after much trial and error he arrived at #96. he cleared his throat and made the sign of the cross before reaching forward, his fist balled to knock, when he heard someone clear his throat.

“don’t bother.” it was a neighbor down the street, just returned from grocery shopping. “they moved out last night. not sticking around for winter, so they headed out early.” 

matt tilted his head, his heart dropping. “...they?

the neighbor nodded. “yeah, the pastor’s kid and his fiance. gone like magic this morning. didn’t give us much warning, either.”

matt just nodded. “thank you.” he stared at the door for minutes as the neighbor walked away, desperate, listening for any signs of life from the other side- nothing but buzzing electricity and the occasional mouse. 

matt spent the next five years thinking about her. she came to mind every time he dated someone new, each time he went to church and smelled vanilla perfume. he tried to find a facebook, an instagram, a linkedin- anything that might tip him off to where she went, how she was doing. it didn’t work. she may as well have vanished from the earth…or so he thought. everything changed one rainy day in hell’s kitchen, when éliette joseph stepped off the c-train. she walked fifteen minutes in the pouring rain, the scent of the city and the petrichor so strong that matt couldn’t even pick out her familiar vanilla perfume. he couldn’t pick up anything about her- the flushed cheeks or the beating heart or the humming of a broadway showtune. he had nothing to tip him off, nothing to prepare him for the moment the door to Nelson & Murdock swung open and his angel walked right back into his life.

[kisses4tom]

ᡣ𐭩 UNCLE TOMMY

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okay so basically Bill had a child with either you or another girl, (we're going to pretend the baby is a girl named Kimberly 😉), but nevertheless Tom is an uncle and uhm yeah i think it's adorable

───────────────

He would be the cool uncle that teaches fun things

He would get her anything she wants from the toy store

Always holding her

Playing with her a lot

He would teach her bad words to piss off Bill 😭

Since him and Bill are very close, he would always be at Bill's house to help him

Would let her eat loads of candy

When Bill told him he was going to be an uncle he couldn't believe it and even if he tried to keep his cool as much as possible, it was impossible for him to hold back tears of joy for his brother

He's very careful and gentle with her

He would pick her up in weird ways and make her laugh (like upside down etc lmfao 💀)

He would tickle her a lot to hear her little laugh

His heart is always full whenever she's around

Personal babysitter

"Come to uncle Tommy, come!"

He would genuinely treat her as his own baby (kind of yk)

Role-playing all the time because she makes him 😭 (lmfao imagine him in a fairy costume that's waaay too small for him 😭 GIRL BYE I WOULD MARRY HIM)

I feel like he would call her "bro" or "dude" at times whenever she does something unexpected or unhinged 😭 (lmfao she's a babyyy)

Always pushing her stroller or carrying her on his shoulders

He would organize Carnival nights with the whole family and take her to as many rides as she wants

He would win prizes to give her

if you're dating Tom, he would ask her if she wants you as her auntie and if she accepts you as his wife 🥹

He would kneel down to talk to her (😩 have my babies)

He would get into play fights with her at the dinner table 😭

Whenever Bill is dropping her off at his house, he would run to the car and get her out of the car seat himself. "come here! uncle Tommy missed youuu!"

He would play guitar for her and when she was younger he would play little lullabies

He could go crazy over that baby's cuteness

He would take her baths every once in a while and put fun toys in the tub

He would take her to the park a lot to get her tired for nap time

The first time he met her it was like love at first sight for him even if he didn't quite know how to act out of shock and confusion (his mind was like foggy idrk how to explain it)

When she's older he would start being more himself (so talk about things freely and make dirty jokes all the time)

I feel like he would try his best to let the baby's first word be "uncle Tom" 😭

He's the overprotective uncle

He loves having her around

Having her around makes him wish he had a child (NO WORRIES BABE COME HERE)

He would be so sweet and cuteeee 😭 I can't guys I'm ovulating sorry 😭

I feel like he would love to play with the toy kitchen for some reason 💀

He would let her do his hair but not his make-up

Kiss attacks when he gets the chance

He's always at Bill's house just to hang with her

"Bill I swear she looks more like me than you"

They have a great bond

When she's older it won't stop him from taking her to places or spoil her

He loves when she's at their concerts

He claims to be the best uncle in the world, and that she's lucky to have him as one

At lunch/dinner he would always sit next to her

At the table he would teach her funny slangs or words

He would make her try to eat a lemon

He'd go down the slide with her 😭

You get the vision right? 🥹🫶🏻

[dearanakin]

Break Free - Bucky Barnes x f!Reader / Part 2

Summary: You were an infiltrated nurse working for HYDRA and takes care of Bucky Barnes, who's still triggered and being used as The Winter Soldier.

Part One

Warnings: blood and some kind of violence, fluff

Word count: 2.2k

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You definitely shouldn't have taken Barnes to your apartment, and you shouldn't have definitely lied to HYDRA when you told Pierce you had a family emergency. But that was the first thing that came to your mind when you saw the Winter Soldier looking miserably lost when he woke up in the alley, after you knocked him out accidentally.

As you closed your door, you made sure it was locked. It's not like being digital would decrease your chances to be assassinated by anyone.

You looked over your shoulder as James was still confused, trying to keep cool and not freak out, when inside his brain all he wanted to do was ask what the fuck was wrong with him.

He sat on the couch, and you grabbed a glass of water, trying to provide him some comfort. You were as confused as he was, but obviously, it was just like he wasn't triggered anymore.

You both just didn't know it could ever happen so soon. And then it hit you. He was trying to kill you, or at least that's what you thought.

"James, why were you after me?", you asked, giving him some space on your couch as you weren't sure how to approach the man. After drinking the water with just one sip, he didn't look at you. He stared into the window and sighed heavily. He knew why.

He was working on his mind to clarify himself what he was doing. It felt like an eternity when he didn't respond. Some string of hair were falling over his face, hiding his expression, but it was still there.

"They made you my-", he stuttered, he couldn't say that out loud now. His brain was malfunctioning, he was horribly trying to avoid that part in his mind that made him a killer. You saw him make a fist with his metal hand, backing up a few inches from him.

"You were my mission. They know something about you", the last part made you numb for the second time that day.

Of course they would, you were only doing it for a private journalism company, and it's not like they wouldn't know about that. HYDRA just makes everyone's lives miserable, an actual hell. And there you were, standing next to a killing machine who was triggered to kill you.

Maybe you just were too lucky you knocked his head and he was himself again. But for how long? Your eyes became foggy, and you were short of breath, trying to focus on what your next step would be. You just had made yourself a living death.

"I'm sorry, I- They just have to say the damn words. I can't control it", he looked at you with pleading eyes, he was trapped inside his brain, killing every person without his own consent. "I need to stay away from you".

Barnes got up from his seat and stumbled on his feet while you helped him up. He literally had his brain wiped, and then you hit his head on a wall, the man would be lucky if he didn't have a concussion by now.

"I think it's best if you stay in. If we both stayed in", you said. Your breath hit his right ear, and it felt like a lullaby somehow. Something he's never experienced before becoming the Winter Soldier.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

James was looking over your window behind the curtain, not too certain HYDRA was figuring out something might have happened since both of you were MIA. He asked Steve Rogers for help, and he told his long-lost friend to stay low.

Of course you would, but how about the man standing next to you? He would probably be the first one to storm out of there and find HYDRA to blow them all. The more you looked at him, the more you could see how broken he was, how emotionally unstable he was after all he's been trough and done.

You were in the kitchen making something for dinner, you've spent a long stressful and uneventful day. As you were preparing the table, Barnes kept staring at you from across the room, realizing you got yourself and himself out of a tragedy.

Even in such a traumatizing event, he couldn't shake the feeling in his guts that he needed to protect you, and how grateful he was of you for taking care of him even when trapped in his own mind.

"James, I'm sorry if that sounds very nosy. But how did you end up like this?", you were both sitting on the table trying to enjoy the meal you made. You were in complete silence, but it's not like it was uncomfortable. You just didn't want to bother him, but you felt like you needed to know about his past.

"I was a soldier. Last thing I remember about that time was I was in a train with Steve. He tried to save me from falling, and I lost my grip", the was some bitterness in his voice, you felt. But you also learned they knew about each other's existence, specially because Barnes also tried to kill him once.

"And you can call me Bucky, that's how I go for".

You saw a slight grim on his face before facing down your plate. You, somehow, have always been fond of his sweet side. Obviously, he was always impersonating an assassin, but even in his most sensitive moments, like from last night, you would notice it.

"HYDRA took me with them before that, and I was a prisoner in 1943 when they used me and other soldiers as test subjects in Zola's quest to recreate the serum. Two years later, Rogers and I led an attack on the HYDRA train that was transporting Zola to another base. That was when I fell. I only survived because of it, losing my left arm", he explained.

You watched as he looked to his shiny arm, letting a sigh escape. If he could, he would've chosen to die. Bucky would never be that type of man, he would never wish to be in that position, even if it meant he would live decades.

You only knew the smallest part of him, besides the brainwashing, you knew he was capable of doing things any normal person wouldn't.

Right after dinner, he helped you clean the dishes, and you could feel the warmth surrounding you because he was too close. You were just enjoying each other's company there, the TV was on and had a low volume. Bucky exhaled almost loudly a few times and you looked from the corner of your eye, checking on him.

You didn't notice he was having an anxiety attack until you saw his hands trembling after grabbing a fork.

You tried to keep your distance and let him deal with that himself, but the object fell on the floor, and you realized he was having trouble breathing.

"Hey, Bucky. Hey, look at me", you gripped his face as you placed one hand on his chin while the other held one of his hands. Barnes was panting, sweat streaming down his cheeks, and his hair was glued on his forehead.

You looked at him, making him follow you with some breathing exercises. You weren't sure it would help, but you're a nurse, and you learned a lot from health care. He tried to block a panic attack he felt coming, but his hands started to shake even more, and you were losing his grip as his palms were also sweaty.

"Bucky, look at me. Just try to breathe in and out, okay?", you were starting to feel stressed seeing him like that. But the soldier had trouble trying to find pace and started gasping for air.

Things were getting out of hand, Bucky was leaning on the sink and pulling all the air he could inside his lungs, but his brain was working against him. As you tried to help him, you heard him groan aloud.

"Fuck", he complained. "I can't do it". He looked at you, his eyes were watery, and you noticed he was having a hard time with himself. He was still trying to breathe, his chest pounding fast and he was all sweaty.

He still had those same pleading eyes from earlier. The eyes of someone who couldn't understand the things that were happening to him all at once. You had compassion for him again.

You weren't sure if that was clinically effective, but you got closer to him. You were almost also having a panic attack yourself, but you decided to give it a shot when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

Barnes looked sort of confused when he looked at you while you were too close, and he didn't have time to realize you were doing it to help stop the attack.

You brushed your lips against his, feeling his breath shaky. Steady, you held him tighter and kept your mouth shut, still glued to his. Bucky used his metal arm to wrap your wrist, as he used his flesh one to cup your chin.

It took you minutes to finally breathe after you were both in the same position, and he wasn't panicking anymore. His breathing was regular, his chest stopped pounding, and he wasn't sweating anymore.

Somehow, he didn't want to let go of you, finding himself in a warm environment, which made him forget, just for that moment, about everything else.

"I thought this would help stop your panic attack", you said under your breath, your mouth still brushing his. You both let out a small laugh, before he rested his forehead against yours.

"It was certainly useful", James affirmed. You were still holding each other when the door was smashed, and you saw Alexander Pierce across the room, looking quite amused by the scene. You felt the metal hand squeeze your skin before the soldier threw your table against the enemies with the same hand.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Bucky made you jump out your window with him. You were so glad he used his metal hand to slip through the wall. It felt like he was spider-man, but when you stood on your feet, you knew it would he much harder to run away from Pierce.

The soldier looked for an attempt to escape, knocking down a man from his bicycle, hoping on it, waiting for you. Shit, this was going to be a wild ride with him. There were cars everywhere, you even saw some helicopters flying around following you two.

You were tensing while holding his abs as he was speeding, passing through dozens of vehicles in a matter of seconds.

You didn't have Steve's number. Hell, you didn't have anybody's phone number and you couldn't call anyone else. While you were figuring a way out of this, you tried to tell him to go underground. A motorcycle would fit into, but not the cars and certainly not even the helicopters.

HYDRA was always one step ahead of their sights, so when Bucky drove past the stairs into the subway station, you nearly hit your head on the floor when he lost his grip from the bike's handlebars.

The last thing you saw was Rumlow snapping his hand across your face before blacking out. You woke up to the sound of footsteps and tried to clear your eyes, before realizing you were trapped in a room inside HYDRA's building.

Your stomach flinched at the thought of Barnes, you knew they were probably going to kill him. Either that or they're going to trigger him again. And you couldn't help but think this time you wouldn't be able to hit his head against a wall only to see Bucky and not the Winter Soldier.

You heard loud screams next to your room and you realized it was him. You didn't know what they were doing, but it was obviously painful.

"I give you a mission and you disappear. When I go after you, you're all lovey-dovey with her?", you heard Alexander ask. And then he laughed. "Are you out of your fucking mind?".

He was yelling and torturing Barnes at the same time. How were you going to help him now you were trapped there? You were probably dying soon anyway.

"That bitch is your fucking mission. Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you, either. You're a lousy soldier", Pierce snapped. Bucky screamed again.

It was when you heard the first words coming out of Pierce's mouth, you knew you were about to become a mission again. “Longing, rusted, seventeen".

"Stop!", he yelled. You could sense he was forcing himself to not get triggered again. But he was trapped inside the room with the others.

"Daybreak, furnace, nine". You heard yourself telling them to stop. One of the guards showed up in front of your cell, holding a gun at you and told you to shut up.

"No!", Barnes said. He was trying to fight it, he was too strong and still couldn't get himself out. "I'm not your pet anymore".

"You keep telling yourself that. Benign, homecoming, one, freight car", each word he pronounced, you could hear Barnes trying to rip free from his restraints.

A deathly silence surrounded the space around you. You could hear your heart pumping in your ears.

"Soldier?", Alexander asked. Bucky had a dark frown on his face.

"Ready to comply". He was there again. Only this time he was just triggered which made him stronger, more powerful and carrying a death stare in his eyes. Which meant you were not going to be able to save him from himself right away.

When you saw his footsteps approaching your cell, you flinched by his gaze and tried to not look afraid of him.

"Bucky, it's me". You said. You couldn't almost be heard, you were just hoping he could recognize you in the back of his mind.

[cherryblossom-chopper]

【Rising Fog】

Sequel to Made of Mist

Benn Beckman x Reader

Content: Afab Reader. She/Her. Lovers to Strangers to ??? Single motherhood.

————— ୨୧ —————

Benn sang a soft lullaby, one that matched the sea. The tune swelled at the crescendo of the waves beneath the ship and sank with the sea. His pudgy little boy had finally settled after seeming to have fussed for ages. Benn couldn't help but feel a pinch of guilt that the mother of his son did this for months on her own. The nights must've been long, lonely, and utterly exhausting.

    "Never thought I'd see the day," Shank mused, his voice low as he stepped through the door. The captain settled on a bench in the galley, his eyes glistening with playful affection.

    Benn met Shank's smile with a yawn. "I've been a good dad; I can be one again," the first mate said, watching his son for a long moment.

    Shanks sighed, full of nostalgia. "Uta isn't a normal kid," He replied, resting his chin on his hand. Little Charlie over there seems to be perfectly average."

    Benn's dark gaze shifted over to Shanks. "Meaning?" His voice held a hint of a warning.

    The captain passed his friend with a chuckle. "Meaning, it shouldn't be anything you can't handle," the redhead stretched his arms over his head. Keep that Papa Bear reigned in. There's no need to lash out amongst friends."

    Benn puffed out his cheeks and blew out a long breath. "Right. Sorry. The kid's not adjusting as well as (Name) and I would've liked, so we haven't slept as much."

    "Maybe we can have Uta sing to him for a couple of nights," Shanks offered. Since she's a big sister now, she should start helping out."

    Benn glanced down at Charlie, nuzzling in his chest. He was so tired, (Name) was even more so. What they would give for one night's sleep. They want to let their nearly eleven-month-old child have a devil fruit-induced sleep was heavy. He knew they desperately needed sleep, but suggesting such an option to the boy's protective mother made Benn shudder. Their relationship wasn't exactly in the place to be making that ask.

    Shanks knew Benn well enough to get his answer. He smiled again before getting to his feet. "Well, your little tike has settled down a bit. You should try to get some shut-eye. I won't expect you to get up at sunrise, given that it'll be here in an hour."

    Benn snorted. "How generous of a captain do I have?" He mocked playfully.

Shanks gave his friend an obnoxious curtsy, a mischievous grin on his face, before sauntering out of the galley. Leaving Benn in the silence of the early morning.

The father waited a long moment, enjoying the quiet, before daring to leave. Each step felt far too loud; every floorboard squeaking made him cringe. He'd hate to bring Charlie back to his mother only to have him start fussing again.

Using his elbow and hip to open the door to his cabin, holding his breath when it clicked behind him. He settled Charlie in a crib built for seafaring before settling his hammock.

Benn had given up his bed for (Name) when she first joined the Red-Haired Pirates, which was just one of the many things he'd done in an attempt to apologize. He'd been hoping she'd invite him to bed, but (Name) didn't stir from her desperately needed slumber.

~~~

The morning came far too early for Benn. He cracked his eyes open, feeling like the rest he'd gotten was just a taste of the needed sleep. Rubbing his eyes, he noted the impossible silence of his commandeered cabin. It became apparent that (Name) had taken Charlie for the day, and he was once again alone. Despite his desire to wake up with her, learn the baby's morning routine, and learn (Name) 's routine, Benn never seemed to catch her. He knew it was intentional, and he couldn't blame her for steering clear of him. Sighing, Benn got to his feet to begin his own morning. He hoped it was still morning.

The sun hadn't quite peaked when Benn emerged, foggy-headed and starving. He scrounged for breakfast leftovers, scarfing his meager findings down like a street mutt. In his fogginess, Benn nearly toppled his ex-partner on his way to the main deck.

(Name) gripped his shirt sleeve to steady herself. Her eyes gazing up at Benn were wide with surprise as she saw the look on his face. The reaction, from exhaustion to surprise, was far too slow for the man she knew. The Benn she knew would've heard (Name) before seeing her.

"Oh! Sorry, (Name). I… I just wasn't paying attention," he said, brows knit together with confusion.

"Are you feeling alright?" She asked after righting herself, her hands still gripping his sleeve.

Benn nodded. "Charlie was up late. The sea doesn't seem to agree with the boy yet," he explained. I haven't had many night shifts since my cabin boy days." Benn rested his hand over hers for a moment. His fingersitched to wrap them around hers, to feel the way (Name) used to hold his hand before Benn left. But he didn't. Benn tenderly removed (Name) 's hand from his sleeve.

She pursed her lips at the reaction but smoothly masked the disappointment beneath her skin.

The longer she was on this ship, the longer Benn spent being a good father, the more her son looked like his father, the more (Name) felt her old affection for Benn flare up… It was stupid, and he abandoned her. (Name) couldn't allow such softness for someone who hurt her so deeply to infect her thinking now. She'd been so strong at first, but seeing him, day after day… it was hard. Hard to keep her walls so high, not after him doing everything for her now. Gods above and below, it was hard.

"Speaking of, where is Charlie?" Benn asked, noting the lack of baby wear gear on (Name).

(Name) shrugged a little before saying, "Shanks offered to give me a break to eat. Knowing him, though, Charlie's with Limejuice or Hongo."

Benn quirked a brow. "You're okay with that?" He asked, incredulous. Before today, his ex-partner had busied herself while hovering around her son, rarely letting him out of her sight.

"Not really," (Name) sighed, "But I've been trying to… I don't know, trust you. Trust the crew and Shanks." She crossed her arms, looking away.

Benn stiffened, and the fog of exhaustion dashed from his mind. His focus zeroed in on (Name). Something in her had changed. She was still firm with him, yet she admitted all of this. The woman Benn thought he had lost a long time ago showed him a bit of herself.

"I think Shanks still has some expensive tea from that trading port we stopped at a few weeks ago," Benn murmured, daring to reach out and rest a hand on her shoulder. Let me make you a pot."

————— ୨୧ —————

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