#elektra x you

[chvoswxtch]

all i need is you

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: following the morning after matt's run in with elektra, you have a lot of decisions to make about your future together.

warnings: swearing, angst, explicit sexual content (minors pls dni), mentions of pregnancy

word count: 8.2k

a/n: y'all have been requesting a sequel to please don't be mad for almost 6 months now, & I apologize it's coming so late. there were a lot of things y'all wanted to see happen in the sequel, & I took all of that feedback to heart & incorporated as much as I could in a way that made sense to me. i've been working on this for months, & it was really important to me to create something you guys would really love & be happy with. thank you to everyone that even wanted a sequel, & for being so patient. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[part one]

It was almost crazy to think that just over a year ago, you thought your relationship with Matt Murdock was over for good. 

When you had awoken that following morning by his side, head clear of the rage and lust induced haze you had been captured in, all that was lingering was a heart heavy with hurt and stinging with betrayal. You had silently collected all of your belongings, pressed one last kiss to Matt’s lips, and granted his peaceful sleeping form one final glance before leaving your spare key on his entry table and disappearing into the twilight. 

All of his words still echoed in the back of your mind, but so did his actions. The promise of marriage was eclipsed by the cherry lip stain on his collar. The prospect of a family was diluted by the scent of an expensive perfume that didn’t belong to you. The vow of faith and love was broken by yet another lie. 

You loved Matt, more than you had ever loved anyone, and more than you ever thought you could love another person. You knew deep down that he was a good man. You tried to believe that he would never intentionally hurt you. But it had gotten to the point where you couldn’t ignore the ache he left in your chest. 

You needed time to try to forgive him. You weren’t even sure if you could forgive him at all. The cut he’d made ran deep, and you couldn’t decide if it was because he’d made it with her blade, or if it was simply his own that had been slicing away at the same spot over and over and over. Regardless, you needed time. Time away from him; to heal, to think, to decide. 

But Matt Murdock had never been a man of patience.

For two endless weeks your phone constantly lit up with his name, filling up with messages containing apologies and desperate pleas. You started arriving early to work and left later than usual to throw him off your schedule. You had the receptionist bypass all his calls and made security aware that he was not welcome in your office. You ignored all the usual spots that he knew you frequented, and especially the ones you went to together. For the first time in over a year, you locked all your windows to ensure he couldn’t slip through in the middle of the night. You blasted music through your headphones so you didn’t have to hear the pain in his voice as he called out your name, fist banging away at your front door so hard you were certain he was going to actually break it down. 

It was torture. Even though he had been the one to wrong you, a piece of you felt guilty. You could hear the terror and remorse in his voice when he stood outside your door, begging for forgiveness, chanting your name over and over as if you were the deity he worshiped and needed absolution from. It left a bitter taste in your mouth to be yet another person to turn your back on him, but through the wave of your sadness came the tide of anger, reminding you that he had done this. He had forced your hand. He made a choice, and you had to make yours. 

The guilt from also having to ignore Karen and Foggy weighed heavily on your chest. They knew what had happened. You had just as many sympathetic voicemails and unanswered texts from them asking if you were okay, and if you wanted to talk. You hated not being able to lean on them when you were at your most vulnerable. They were your family just as much as Matt was, but you couldn’t talk to them or be around them. They just reminded you of him. A huge part of you resented him for that, for making you feel like you couldn’t go to the two other people you loved most in this world for comfort because of what he did. You had spent the past few years building your entire life around Matt, and he had selfishly sent it crashing to the ground, leaving you completely isolated beneath the debris.

For two long weeks, you felt trapped beneath a heavy blanket of depression you couldn’t seem to find your way out from. 

And then she happened. 

How Elektra had managed to break into your apartment when Matt couldn’t, you weren’t sure, but the day you came home to find her in your living room with a bag of your things packed by her feet, you were stunned silent.

“I need you to come with me.”

“What? Why?”

“Because Matthew is an idiot and he’s put you in danger. We need to go. Now.”

She didn’t even give you a chance to hesitate, gripping your overnight bag into one hand, and forcing you out your door with the other. The ding of the elevator dropping you to the lobby seemed to wake you out of whatever trance she had put you in, and you stared at her in confusion as you stood firmly outside the metal doors.

“I don’t understand. What are you doing here? Where are we going?”

“I’ll explain when we get there. We need to move.”

“I don’t-“

“Listen. You don’t know me. You’ve got no reason to trust me. But right now, I am trying to save your life. So if you’ll please-“

“Why?”

Elektra paused for a moment as she looked at you. The annoyance on her perfect features vanished slowly, taking in the pain and confusion that were clearly plastered on yours. 

“Because you’re important to Matthew, which means you’re important to me.”

Elektra filled you in on everything the moment she had secured you away in a penthouse uptown that was registered under an alias. What she and Matt thought were the Yakuza had ended up being a much older and sinister organization called The Hand. They were into some freaky cult shit that you didn’t quite understand, but you got the gist that they were powerful, and extremely dangerous. They were also everywhere. They had tracked her and Matt, and a man named Stick that had trained the two of them, back to Matt’s apartment the night after the gala. They had been tracking him ever since, and because he had continuously been going to your office and apartment, they knew all about you. 

She even told you the truth about how she had met Matt, and how it had all been a set up by Stick to bring him back to their side; to fight the war that he had been warning them both about. 

“I don’t know what Matthew has told you about me. Probably nothing good. But I need you to know…I did love him. That’s why I left. I realized…he wasn’t like us. He would never be like us. He was too…good. He didn’t belong with Stick and I. I didn’t want to be the one to put that light out inside of him. I didn’t want anyone to. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble between the two of you the night of the gala. I wasn’t aware that he hadn’t told you that I was in town, or what we were doing. I swear I was only trying to protect him.”

There was a glimmer of regret dancing along Elektra’s waterline, and you could see her own pain shadowing the faint smile on her lips. 

“You weren’t the one that lied to me.”

Elektra blew out a breath as she took a seat in front of you, dragging her teeth along her bottom lip as she nodded.

“Matthew always has pure intentions. I know that. But for someone who is incredibly intelligent, he’s also a complete dumbass. He tries so hard to do the right thing…but he doesn’t stop to think about if he’s doing it the right way. Look I don’t…I don’t know anything about the two of you, and I’m not telling you what to do, but I can tell you that he is absolutely in love with you.”

“So…you didn’t come back to New York for him?”

“For his help, yes. To rekindle whatever we had, no. But for the record, even if I had, I wouldn’t have stood a chance in Heaven or Hell against you.”

There was something oddly comforting about Elektra’s words and the timid smile on her lips. It eased some of the tension pent up in your body, and you felt a little lighter as you let a deep exhale out through your parted lips. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you glanced over at her as you anxiously twisted a ring around your index finger.

“I…thank you. You…you didn’t have to…do all of this. I hate to even ask anything of you when you’re already doing so much for me but…can you just…not tell Matt I’m here? I’m not ready to talk to him yet.”

Elektra flashed you a pitiful smile as she gave a slight nod of her head.

“Of course. It’ll be our little secret.”

It only took Matt three days to figure out that Elektra had been hiding you, and as he burst through the front door of her penthouse, he was absolutely incandescent. 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me. You’ll have a sleepover with her, but you won’t talk to me?”

“Watch your tone, Matthew.”

Elektra glared over at Matt, tightening her grip on the knife in her hand that was hovering over a cutting board filled with various ingredients. 

Matt furiously tore off his glasses as he angrily pointed his finger in her direction, the top of his lip curling up into a menacing snarl.

“I don’t want to hear shit from you after you-“

“I protected her because you led the Hand right to her. You’re fucking welcome by the way.”

Elektra let out a deep angry exhale as she turned to face you with a sour pout on her lips. She gestured her head in Matt’s direction with a quirk of her brow.

“I can get rid of him if you’d like.”

“Excuse me?”

“I wasn’t speaking to you, Matthew.”

Sighing heavily as you let go of the whisk in your hand, you pushed the large bowl of batter forward on the kitchen island and wiped your hands off on a small towel. Rubbing your hands over your tired eyes, you waved your hand dismissively towards Elektra.

“It’s…it’s fine, Ellie. I’ll deal with him.”

Elektra eyed you for a moment before shooting another glare in Matt’s direction. She dropped the knife onto the cutting board, wiping her hands off on the same towel before clasping them together loudly.

“Right, well, I’ll leave the knife out just in case. Remember the three main areas I taught you to stab. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

After you watched Elektra disappear upstairs into her bedroom, you turned around to face Matt. His eyes were absolutely wild with rage and his face was morphed into complete disbelief as he blanched at you.

“Ellie? Since when the hell is she Ellie?”

“Since she’s the only one around here that tells me the truth about what the fuck is going on.”

Matt clenched his fists at his sides as he stared blankly over at you, and you watched as a muscle feathered in his jaw. 

“What did she tell you?”

“Everything you didn’t.”

You could practically feel the anger radiating off of him in waves, but you had more of a right to be pissed off than he did. Matt shoved his hand into his pocket, producing a shiny silver object that he held out in front of him between his thumb and index finger.

“What is this?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you arched one of your brows as you looked at him.

“A key.”

Your key. 

Matt’s nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw, quickly crossing the distance between you to stand directly in front of you.

“Don’t get smart with me. Do you have any idea how it felt to wake up that next morning and you were gone? All of you, your things, everything gone? And to find this on the table? Not even-“

“I’d imagine it was as shitty as you coming home covered in red lipstick and smelling like your ex lover's perfume. Or as shitty as finding out you lied about where you were and who you were with, and that you kissed her and lied about that too.”

Matt ran his hand through his hair quickly in annoyance before dragging it roughly down his jaw, shaking his head as he flung his arms up in the air with frustration.

“Goddamnit Y/N, we talked about that! We worked through it. Then you just…disappeared and ignored me for weeks. You won’t return any of my calls, you won’t open the door, I can’t even-“

“We didn’t talk about anything, Matt! You kept trying to justify your actions and completely ignored how I was feeling. We didn’t work through anything. You manipulated me and we fucked. That is not working through it.”

Matt sighed with exasperation as he stared at you incredulously. 

“I did not manipulate you. Fuck, I told you that I wanted to marry you and have a family witn you-“

“In the middle of sex, Matthew! I don’t know if you even meant that, or if it was a heat of the moment thing. And don’t you dare say you didn’t manipulate me. You took advantage of the fact that I was frustrated and that you hadn’t touched me in weeks. You knew I would give into you. How do you think that makes me feel? That you completely ignored my feelings, manipulated me into sex for forgiveness, and filled my head with all those promises knowing that our relationship was in a bad spot. I can’t trust a word that you say because you can’t seem to stop lying to me.”

Matt’s anger evaporated the second he tasted the salt of your tears in the air. He hung his head between his shoulders in shame, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as the severity of your words nestled in the silence. Letting out a soft sigh, Matt’s tongue darted out to quickly wet his lips.

“You’re right.”

His hazel eyes were more clear without the cloud of vexation, and you could see the way they glistened with regret. Matt’s plump lips fell into a frown, and guilt seemed to tug the rest of his features down like gravity.

“I’m sorry. I swore to you that I wouldn’t lie after I told you the truth about me. I broke my promise to you, I betrayed your trust, and I disrespected our relationship. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never, ever meant to hurt you. I didn’t want you to get mad that I was working with Elektra. I didn’t think…I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t considering your feelings. I shouldn’t have kissed her. I could’ve come up with another diversion. All of this could’ve been avoided if…if I had just told you the truth.”

Matt let out a shaky breath as his blank eyes glanced upwards, closing for a moment as he clenched his fists by his sides. A stray tear slipped past his lashes when he opened his eyes again, slowly lowering himself onto his knees before you as he reached for one of your hands to hold.

“I have been…absolutely fucking miserable these past few weeks, and that’s my own fault. I know that. I have hated not getting to feel your touch, or hear your voice, or be able to tell you how much I love you. I am so fucking sorry if I ever made you question how I feel about you, but Y/N I meant every word that night. You are the love of my life. You do belong with me. I do want to marry you and start a family. I swear to God, I will do whatever it takes to earn your trust back and your forgiveness. Just tell me what I have to do sweetheart, and I’ll do it.”

It broke your heart to see Matt look so distraught. It stung even more than he was on his knees begging for forgiveness instead of asking you to spend the rest of your lives together, but there was an undeniable conviction in his voice. It soothed the pang in your chest slightly to finally hear him acknowledge his fuck up, and apologize for it instead of getting defensive. Elektra had melted away the insecurity you had felt with her confession, and the frightened look that shattered Matt’s face showed you just how scared he was to lose you.

There was still a lot of work to be done on your relationship. It wasn’t going to be fixed overnight, and Matt was going to have to put in a lot of effort to earn your trust back, and prove to you just how much your relationship mattered to him. But you were in love with him, and you knew there was no one else for you but him.

“You can start by taking care of this…”Hand” shit. I’m not loving the fact that I’m being hunted by zombie ninjas because of my idiot boyfriend.”

Matt’s ears instantly perked up, and a lopsided hopeful grin stretched across his lips.

“I’m still your boyfriend?”

“For now. You’re dangerously close to being replaced by Elektra, though. She’s always bluntly honest, and her bed is way nicer.”

You never in a million years thought that your boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend would fight just as hard as he would to keep you safe, but Elektra had. She protected you from The Hand just as fiercely as Matt did, nearly giving her life for you both, and now she was securing the last button on the back of your wedding dress and staring at you in the mirror with a knowing smirk. 

The morning you slipped out of Matt’s apartment heartbroken and desolate seemed like a lifetime ago as you prepared yourself to meet him at the altar in just under an hour. 

“What’s on your mind, little dove? Got cold feet?”

Elektra quirked one of her dark brows as she stared at your reflection with her signature smirk. Karen had left the two of you alone to go check on Matt and Foggy, and she was helping you with your finishing touches. 

After helping save New York, Elektra had stuck around, and to both of your surprises, and certainly to Matt’s, you two had become very close. The more you got to know the more vulnerable side of her, the more you felt for her. She wasn’t the villain that everyone had painted her out to be. She had been a scared little girl, manipulated with a promise of something resembling a family, only to be broken down and molded into something to orchestrate death and destruction instead. It wasn’t unlike what Stick had done to Matt. As a matter of fact, it was worse. 

“If I said yes?”

Elektra hummed quietly as she moved your hair off your shoulder, leaning in to rest her chin on it as she wrapped you up in a hug from behind with a grin on her lips. 

“Ever been to Paris this time of year? It’s beautiful. We could be at a private air strip before anyone even knew what happened. Matthew is fast, but he can’t outrun a Maserati.”

A grin broke out across your lips as you giggled, squeezing onto Elektra’s arms when she winked. You had never been more sure of anything in your life than you were sure that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Matt Murdock. Both of you knew that. But you also both knew he was eavesdropping just on the other side of the church, and it was incredibly easy to rile him up.

As if on cue, Foggy suddenly burst through the door and pointed a finger at Elektra with an expression of pure irritation on his face. 

“Whatever you’re telling her, knock it off. You’re scaring the shit out of him, and he’s already convinced enough as it is that she's not gonna walk down that aisle.”

“Oh relax, Franklin. Girls got to have their fun, yeah? Besides, I thought they called him the man without fear.” 

Foggy rolled his eyes as he shut the door behind him, walking over to shoo Elektra away as he stood behind you and adjusted your veil down your back.

“Yeah, until it comes to her. Go head to head with the Punisher who's notorious for using automatic weapons with sticks? Sure. Take on a weird cult of ninjas that can’t die and like to use really sharp swords also only with sticks? Why not. Fuck it, let’s use every goddamn tall building in Hell’s Kitchen for parkour practice. But ask the woman I’m ridiculously in love with to marry me and put up with my shit for the rest of our lives? That’s where the devil seems to tuck his tail between his legs.”

Matt had been an absolute nervous wreck the night he proposed to you. He had brought you to the same restaurant that he had taken you to for dinner on your first date, and was fidgety the whole time. Every time you asked if he was okay, he swore up and down that he was, and you figured there was just something overwhelming one or several of his senses. But then you noticed that despite it being mid November, he was sweating as you walked hand in hand through Central Park, and his hand kept nearly slipping from yours. Finally, you stopped and turned to face him, placing your hand on his chest to steady him.

“Okay, what’s going on with you?”

“N-Nothing, I’m fine. Let’s keep-”

“No, you aren’t. You’ve been acting strange all night. You’ve been anxious and fidgety, and now you’re sweating.”

“It’s hot-”

“It’s November, Matthew.”

Matt’s lips parted slightly as he went to protest, but nothing came out. He was usually good at coming up with excuses on the spot, but whatever was going on with him had seemed to completely take over his mind. A soft sigh slipped past your lips as he averted his gaze to the ground, watching as he clenched his fist by his side. You took a step forward to place your hands gently on his cheeks to cradle his face.

“Matty, please talk to me. Is something wrong?”

“No, no nothing…nothing is wrong.”

“Then what is going on? What’s got you so worked up?”

“I’m not worked up-”

“Matthew.”

Matt let out a sigh of defeat hearing the tone in your voice, his tongue darting out to quickly wet his lips as he attempted to flash you a reassuring smile.

“Can we just keep walking please? There’s something I wanna show you.”

There was evident excitement in Matt’s voice, but it didn’t resonate with you. The way he kept dodging your questions was beginning to put you in a sour mood, conjuring up a bitter taste of realization that he was on the cusp of breaking an oath he had sworn to keep. Dropping your hands quickly from his face, you shook your head in frustration as you turned around swiftly to walk ahead without him.

“You promised me you wouldn’t do this anymore.”

You only made it two steps forward before Matt blurted out a confession laced with full blown panic.

“I’m in love with you.”

Immediately pausing, you turned around to look at him in complete confusion.

“I know that, Matt.”

Matt let out a heavy exhale as he rushed forward and took your hand into his, scrunching up his nose as he shook his head quickly.

“No, I…I mean…that I’m…fuck, this isn’t going right.”

Matt pinched the bridge of his nose as his lips pursed into a frown, and you eyed him curiously as you gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“What isn’t going right? What are you talking about?”

“Will you just…come with me? Please? I really need to show you something.”

Matt’s face was twisted in what looked like agony, and the desperation in his voice made you nervous. You didn’t think you had ever seen him look so…terrified, not even that night at Elektra’s when he thought you were going to leave him for good. You allowed Matt to guide you further through the park, venturing off down a path only he seemed to know, and stopping once you reached a gate that was covered in ivy. He pulled a key from his pocket to unlock it, and pushed it open with a slight creak, gesturing for you to enter first with a timid smile.

A shocked gasp flew past your lips as you stepped inside. It was an isolated garden, completely closed in by ivy covered walls, lit up only with various strings of white twinkle lights and the glow of the moon. To your delight, there were several plants and flowers in full bloom, and the whole scene looked like a vibrant painting you would hang on your wall. 

“I hear this place is beautiful.”

Turning around to face Matt, you noticed that he had taken off his glasses, and was apprehensively turning them over in his hands over and over. The timid smile was still plastered on his lips, but his eyes were nearly blown open with distress.

“I…it’s…I don’t even know how to describe it. How…how did you find this?”

“Karen did. It’s technically private property owned by the city, but Brett owed me a favor.”

The puzzlement on your face only grew as you stared at Matt, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you gestured around.

“Is this why you’ve been acting so weird? You didn’t think I’d like the surprise?”

Matt’s eyes darted back and forth blankly as he dragged his teeth along his bottom lip, swallowing thickly as he placed his glasses into his jacket pocket and took a few cautious steps forward.

“I…I hoped that you’d like it.”

“Matty, I love it. It’s so beautiful. But you didn’t have to be so nervous to show me this. You could’ve taken me to a random alley and I still would’ve loved it.”

Matt let out a breathless laugh as he shook his head, clicking his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he smiled softly.

“Then it wouldn’t have been special.”

A furrow formed between your brows as you looked at him, trying to decipher all the cryptic pieces he was laying in front of you.

“What wouldn’t have?”

Matt was silent for a moment as he fixed his gaze on your face, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly as he studied you. Finally letting out a deep breath, he reached out to take one of your hands, brushing his thumb delicately over your knuckles as a slow smile spread over his lips.

“I told you, I’m in love with you.”

“And I’m in love with you, Matty.”

Matt took a step closer as he brought his other hand up to cradle your face, a tender smile on his lips as he rubbed his thumb soothingly over your cheek. You couldn’t tell if it was the reflection of the lights in his eyes, but they looked glossy, almost as if he was about to cry, and it made you squeeze onto his hand tighter.

“You…are the first person that has ever truly understood me. The first that’s ever accepted and loved both sides of me. You’ve never shied away from one, or favored the other, or asked me to choose. You haven’t given up on me, even when I’ve given you plenty of reasons to. You are the best part of my day. I can’t tell you how…how happy it makes me to know that when I come home at night, you’re there waiting for me. And no matter what kind of day I’ve had, or how rough of a night it was, it…it doesn’t matter, because you’re there. You give me a reason to make it home. I can’t tell you how much I love that I get to fall asleep holding you and listening to your heartbeat, and start every day hearing your voice and kissing your lips. I have never felt as…happy…and light as I do with you. I want to spend the rest of my life feeling this way. I want to spend the rest of my life ending every night with you and starting every morning with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So-”

Matt let out a shaky breath as he slowly dropped his hand from your face and tightly held onto your hand. You were already in tears from Matt’s words before, but the moment he dropped down onto one knee before you, the floodgates opened and a choked sob caught in your throat as your other hand flew up to cover your mouth.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

“Oh my God, Matty…yes…yes!”

Matt blew out a shaky breath of relief as he closed his eyes for a moment, the tension in his shoulders evaporating right in front of your eyes as he let his head drop. You couldn’t help but laugh as you stared down at him in perplexity.

“Did you think I was going to say no?”

Matt rubbed his hand down his face to wipe away his own tears, letting out another breathless laugh and sniffling as he looked up at you with a goofy grin on his lips.

“Figured I had a fifty-fifty shot.”

Lips splitting into the biggest smile you had ever seen, Matt quickly rose to his feet and grabbed your face, capturing your mouth in a deep kiss as you gripped onto his jacket to hold him close. All of a sudden he quickly pulled away and shoved his hand down into his pocket.

“Oh shit, uh…sorry…I…here.”

Matt laughed nervously as he pulled a small velvet black box out of his pocket, opening it to reveal the ring inside. Your mouth fell open as a gasp escaped, and you gripped onto Matt’s forearm as fresh tears welled in your eyes.

“Matty…”

“Do…do you like it?”

“I…I love it. It’s…it’s perfect. How did you-”

“I had some help.”

Glancing up at Matt through your teary eyes, you watched as a bashful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Pulling the ring from the box, Matt gently grabbed onto your wrist with a shaky hand, and carefully slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit absolutely perfectly, and you stared down at it in awe as it dazzled beneath the lights. You were overwhelmed with so many emotions, and you didn’t know what to do other than grab Matt’s face and pull him down for a searing kiss. 

The two of you gripped onto each other as if you were afraid the other might disappear if you loosened your grasp even the slightest. You were a flurry of lips and teeth, trying to devour the other’s desire, consuming the taste of happiness together. Matt laid you down in the soft grass of the garden floor and made love to you right there, intertwining his hand with yours that wore the symbol of his love and promise to you.

A burst of laughter ripped through your chest at that memory of Matt’s nervousness as you covered your mouth, staring at Foggy knowingly in the reflection of the mirror. Elektra’s mouth split into a huge grin as she rolled her eyes, pressing a quick kiss to your temple and giving Foggy’s shoulder a squeeze on her way to the door.

“Alright, alright. Let me go do damage control. I’ll see you both out there. Oh, and Y/N, darling?”

You turned your head to look over at her as she paused in the doorway.

“Yeah?”

A warm smile tugged at the corners of Elektra’s mouth as she stared over at you, leaning her head briefly against the door. 

“You are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

You pursed your lips slightly as your face twisted up faintly into an expression of gratitude, returning her smile with one of your own.

“Thank you, Ellie.”

Elektra flashed you a quick wink, closing the door behind her to leave you alone with Foggy.

“She’s right, you know. You do look beautiful.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth as you looked at Foggy in the mirror, arching one of your brows quizzically.

“Did you just agree with her?”

“That stays between us. This is a one time thing.”

Laughing softly, you turned around to pull Foggy into a tight hug, sighing in relaxation as his arms came around you to hold you securely to his chest. There didn’t seem to be anything that a hug from Foggy Nelson couldn’t fix. All of the pent up nerves seemed to dissipate from the warmth of his embrace, and you suddenly felt a million times lighter.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have anything to thank me for.”

“I have everything to thank you for.”

“Well in that case, I think Foggy would be a great name for your future kid.”

A deep laugh rumbled in his chest as you giggled, pulling back slightly to peer up at him with a grin.

“I’ll put in a good word.”

After Foggy left you alone to go rejoin Matt and the others, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, smoothing your hands over your dress for the millionth time. A part of you was still in disbelief that today was the day you were marrying your best friend. Matt had sworn to not take the second chance you had given him for granted, and had been treating it as if it were sacred. He opened up to you about everything now, even the rough nights that plagued his thoughts, and the horrors he desperately wanted to protect you from. There wasn’t a single thought or emotion he hid anymore, and he’d even gotten better about finding balance between each of his lives. That wasn’t to say that you both didn’t struggle from time to time still, but your relationship was the healthiest it had ever been.

A knock against the door tore you from your thoughts, and a smile quickly spread across your lips at the sight of the figure leaning against the doorway.

“Hey big guy.”

Frank’s mouth split into a grin as he looked at you, giving a slight nod of his head in your direction.

“Hey darlin’.”

Turning away from the mirror to face him fully, you swallowed thickly as you smoothed your trembling hands down the sides of your dress and gestured to it.

“I look okay?”

Frank cocked his head to the side as he smirked, taking you in with his eyes as he took a few steps forward to stand in front of you.

“You kiddin’? You’re gonna knock Red on his ass.”

You didn’t hardly have any family outside of the chosen one you had made with Matt, Foggy, Karen, Elektra, and Frank. When you’d let it slip to him that you would be walking down the aisle alone, Frank instantly offered to be the one to walk you. He confessed that it would probably be the closest he would ever get to walking his own daughter down the aisle, and you graciously accepted without hesitation. 

A smirk curled at the corner of your mouth as you let your eyes wander over his large figure, finally meeting his deep brown curious eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so…”

“Dressed up, yeah yeah. Don’t get used to it.”

“I was gonna say not covered in blood.”

Frank let out a deep chuckle as he shook his head slowly, looking down at you with a dazzling grin on his lips.

“Figured I could behave for a few days so I didn’t mess up your pretty dress, yeah?”

“How generous of you.”

As the processional music started to play, the nerves you felt earlier returned full force, and you gripped onto Frank’s arm tightly as the reality of the situation started to sink in. This was actually happening. Matt was waiting for you on the other side of these doors, and in just a few moments, he would finally be your husband. Tears started to form in the corners of your eyes as your emotions started to catch up with you, thinking about everything the two of you had gone through together, and how it had all led up to this moment. Frank’s lips brushed against your cheek as he bent down to whisper into your ear.

“You say the word, and I’ll get you outta here. No questions asked, yeah?”

Gripping a little tighter onto his arm, you leaned into Frank’s embrace as a shaky breath left your lips.

“Where would we go?”

“Wherever you want, darlin’. I could hide you places even he couldn’t find.”

You swore you heard Matt groan loudly on the other side of the door, and you couldn’t help but giggle as you dipped your head back to look up at Frank. Taking a deep breath in, you exhaled slowly through your parted lips and nodded with a soft smile.

“I’m ready.”

Frank gave a slight nod as he leaned in to kiss your forehead, dropping his left eye in a wink as he smiled.

“Attagirl.”

“Frankie?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Don’t let me fall, please.”

Frank wrapped his right arm tightly around your waist, holding onto your hand with his left one as he squeezed it gently.

“Never.”

»»———　　———««

“As absolutely beautiful as you are in this dress, it’s time for it to come off.”

“You don’t wanna leave it on?”

“I’d love to, sweetheart, but it’s kind of in my way. Besides, it’s so pretty, I’d hate to ruin it with all the things I wanna do to you, Mrs. Murdock.”

A soft gasp left your lips as Matt gently sucked on that sensitive spot on your neck below your ear, and you could feel him grin against your skin when your heart skipped. He had taken every opportunity throughout the evening to call you that, or refer to you as his wife. Every time it hit your ears, a buzz of serotonin flooded your bloodstream and left you hazy.

“And what, exactly, is it that you wanna do to me, Mr. Murdock?”

Matt’s fingertips brushed lightly along the exposed skin of your bare back, causing a shudder to course through you while his nimble fingers delicately tugged the zipper of your dress agonizingly slow down your back. His stubble tickled against your cheek as he nuzzled your jaw, inhaling your scent deeply while leaving open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck.

“Fuck a baby into you.”

Gripping tightly onto his suit jacket, you were suddenly taken back to that night over a year ago when he’d first made that promise, and his words from that night flowed through your ears. 

I’m gonna marry you someday, Y/N.

I will put a ring on your finger tomorrow. 

I will put a baby in you tonight.

A fresh wave of mixed emotions glossed over your eyes, and Matt slowly pulled back to stare blankly down at your face with an expression of concern as he cradled your face in his hand.

“What is it, angel?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Matt tilted his head to the side slightly as his honey hazel eyes gazed down at you, tongue darting out to quickly wet his lips before they pulled into a timid smile.

“Was it the wedding you always wanted?”

Bringing your own hand up to cup Matt’s jaw, you pulled him in closer to touch your foreheads together as you whispered softly.

“Of course it was, Matty. You were the groom.”

Matt had been continuously asking you the same question all night, wanting to make sure you were absolutely happy with the biggest day of your lives. Honestly, it had been perfect. Karen had taken over as your unofficial wedding planner, and between her, Marci, and Elektra, you’d hardly had to lift a finger. Getting married in a church wasn’t a huge deal for you since you weren’t religious, but you knew how much it meant to Matt, and you offered to marry him in his church where his parents would’ve married. It was small and intimate, exactly what you both wanted.

The second you stepped through the open doors with Frank, Matt immediately started to cry. You were only a second behind him as soon as you saw him, the two of you gripping onto each other’s hands as Father Lantom led the ceremony, bringing everyone in attendance to tears as you exchanged your heartfelt vows. Matt had captured your lips in a deep kiss as soon as Father Lantom uttered his name, and he lightly smacked him over the back of the head with his bible to remind him that he was in church when the kiss started getting a little too heated for the house of God. Maggie had simply laughed, reminding Father Lantom that Matthew was indeed Jack Murdock’s son.

The reception was held at Josie’s where you had first met Matt over two years ago, courtesy of Karen. Foggy had drunkenly climbed onto the bar to deliver his best man speech which only drew further tears out of everyone from laughter by telling the most embarrassing story he could conjure about Matt from college, and also from the passionate gratitude he showered you in for making his best friend the happiest he had ever seen him.

Matt told me once he thought you were an angel created by God himself, and sent down from Heaven just for him, exactly when he needed you. I believe that’s true. There’s no other explanation for how perfect you are for him. Thank you for bringing my brother the happiness he’s always deserved. I love you both.

Karen could hardly contain her own tears as she spoke fondly about you and Matt, bringing even Frank and Jessica to tears with her sweet words.

I knew the night you met Matt that you loved him. I could see it in your eyes. Thank you for loving him the way that you do. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me as your best friend for you to end up with someone like Matt. Because I know he will take care of you, and protect you, and love you with everything he’s got, and I know you’ll do the same for him. I’m just so happy my two favorite people found each other.

“Today was the happiest day of my life. A day I never honestly thought would come, but I’m so happy it did, and I’m so happy it was with you. I wouldn’t change anything about it. I mean…apart from everyone offering to help you runaway, but.”

A loud laugh slipped past your ears at the annoyed look on Matt’s face, countered by the smirk that was threatening to spill across his lips. You gently squeezed his cheeks to purse his lips into a pout, leaning in to kiss them softly.

“You know they were joking.”

“No, Frank and Elektra were serious. They were actually gonna smuggle you out.”

Giggling softly, you shook your head as you leaned in to press your lips against Matt’s softly once more.

“Well I didn’t run, did I?”

Matt let out a deep exhale through his nose, shaking his head slowly as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“No. Still not sure why you didn’t.”

“There was cake.”

Matt rolled his eyes as he pushed himself up above you, and you giggled uncontrollably as you grabbed onto his tie to pull him back down towards you.

“I’m kidding! You know someone has to keep the Devil in line.”

Matt clicked his tongue against his cheek, narrowing his eyes slightly as he cocked his head to the side and stared down at you with a light smirk.

“That the only reason, then? Because you’re the only one that can?”

“I can think of a few more. Now, I thought you were helping me out of this dress?”

“I was.”

“Then be a good husband, Matthew, and help your wife.”

Matt’s eyes darkened considerably at the sultry tone of your voice, and a devilish grin took over his mouth as your beloved dimples settled in his inner cheeks. He was careful as he slipped the silk gown down your body, laying it carefully over the dresser before attacking your body with kisses once again. You frantically clawed at his jacket and dress shirt, blindly making quick work of his belt, already panting just from the idea of having your husband inside of you. There seemed to be a silent understanding between the two of you that neither of you had the patience for foreplay tonight, and all you both wanted in that moment was to be absolutely consumed by one another. 

As Matt settled between your spread thighs, a wash of nerves made you shiver, and you found yourself placing your shaky palm on his chest over his heart to get his attention.

“Matty…did you…are we…you really want a baby with me? Right now?”

Matt tilted his head in confusion as he let his eyes blankly wander over you, placing his palm flat on the pillow by your head as he leaned in closer towards you. You and Matt had been talking more seriously about starting a family after you got engaged, and you stopped taking birth control a few months before the wedding to make sure it was fully out of your system for when you two were ready to actually start trying.

“Of course I do. Why? Did you change your mind?”

“No! No no, it’s not that. I just…you aren’t going to miss it? I mean…the city means so much to you, Matty, and-”

“Hey, you mean the most to me. You’re the love of my life, sweetheart.”

You wrapped your fingers around Matt’s wrist as he held your face, nibbling at your bottom lip as you let out a shaky breath.

“I know, baby. I just…I know how much you need that part of yourself-”

“Not anymore. All I need is you. I’m still protecting the city, and the people in it, everyday. I’m still helping people. But New York doesn’t really need Daredevil anymore. It has people to protect it, like Luke and Jessica. And Colleen, Danny, even Frank and Elektra. You need me. And the one thing I care more about protecting and keeping safe is you, and our family.”

“I just don’t want you to wake up one day and regret hanging up the suit, or feel any kind of resentment-”

“Sweetheart, listen to me. I could never regret anything with you. How could I feel even an ounce of resentment when you’re offering to give me the greatest gift in the world that I’ll never be able to repay you for, hm?”

Matt carefully wiped a stray tear away from your eye as you reached up to gently grab onto the back of his neck, pulling him down so that his chest was flush to yours as you whispered softly.

“I just want to make you happy, Matty.”

“You do, angel. Everyday. You are my happiness. Now, can I please make love to my wife?”

Matt took his time as he entered you, peppering kisses on every inch of your body he could find, moving his hips lazily as he fucked into you slowly to ensure you both felt everything. Interlacing your fingers together, he held your hands above your head and squeezed them tightly, repeatedly whispering into your ear how much he loved you, how beautiful and perfect you were for him, and how badly he wanted you to give him a baby. Matt pulled your legs tightly around his waist, angling your hips to reach the most delicious depths within you, spilling his seed into the deepest layer of your garden to plant the foundation for the family you both so desperately wanted together. 

Neither of you could get enough, and Matt fucked you sweetly and slowly several more times into the early hours of the night until your bodies simply couldn’t take anymore. He refused to withdraw himself from you, keeping his soft cock nestled within you, preventing any ounce of your future he had emptied into you from slipping out as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. Matt placed his palm over your lower belly, absentmindedly stroking his thumb in slow circles over the first home your child would have.

“I love you so much, angel.”

“I love you so much, Matty.”

Matt was here. Matt loved you. Matt was yours.

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @thychuvaluswife

[milesworld96]

⚠️SPOILERS 4 Deadpool & Wolverine bc I just watched it today and I’m going insane over it, the movie was great⚠️

[sad-endings-suck]

“ew no, 😫 i hate that ship!”

okay?? so go cry about it. tf you want from me?

[thirtysomethingloser92]

1. Same Old Tired, Lonely Place.

Summary:

Trapped in The Void with Wade Wilson and Logan, you meet Remy LeBeau—the man fate has bound to you as your soulmate. From the moment you lock eyes, the connection is undeniable, but you hate the idea of a soulmate. You’ve spent your life keeping people at arm’s length, fiercely protecting your independence.

Remy’s charm and your growing bond make it hard to maintain those walls, even as chaos unfolds around you.

But when you finally escape The Void, Remy doesn’t come with you. Now you’re back home, haunted by the bond you didn’t ask for. What happens when your soulmate is still out there, and you’re left alone to face the inevitable pull of fate? Warnings: Angst, Hurt, Swearing, Violence, Smut.

The idea of soulmates had always been something you hated.  In fact, you thought it was complete and utter bullshit. A fantasy spun by people who romanticized love to the point of obsession—desperate souls clinging to the belief that somewhere out there was a perfect match, just waiting to complete them. You never bought into it. The whole concept felt like a cheap fairytale, something designed to make people feel better about their lonely, mundane lives. The idea that two people were bound by some invisible force, destined to meet and fall into this profound, all-encompassing connection?

Ridiculous.

You’d seen the way people talked about it, the way their eyes lit up when the subject came up, the way they whispered about it like it was some kind of holy grail. As though finding your “other half” was the key to happiness, as though it would suddenly fix everything wrong with your life. And worse, the way people waited for it—wasting their lives in pursuit of some mythical bond, convinced that nothing else could compare. It was maddening.

Love wasn’t some magical force. It wasn’t preordained or written in the stars. Love, real love, was messy. It was hard work. It was built on choices—on compromise, on trust, on effort. Not some cosmic string pulling two people together like puppets on a stage. That was just lazy. A way for people to avoid taking responsibility for their own hearts, their own lives.

And the way people talked about it, like soulmates were the answer to everything wrong with the world. As if finding that one person would suddenly make you whole, as if you weren’t already enough on your own. It was toxic, this obsession with soulmates. It turned love into a crutch, a dependency, a desperate need rather than something you chose to give freely. You’d seen people break themselves over it, waiting for something that might never come, forsaking real connections in favor of some fairytale ending they’d been spoon-fed their entire lives.

You’d vowed a long time ago that you wouldn’t be one of them. You wouldn’t waste your life chasing after something so intangible, so unreliable. The whole idea of it made your skin crawl.

So yeah, the concept of soulmates? Total bullshit.

Or at least, that’s what you thought.

Then you met him.

And everything you thought you knew, everything you thought you believed, shattered in the space of a single breath. “The name's Remy LeBeau. De Diable Blanc. But you can call me The Gambit.” The resistance hideout was a far cry from any notion of comfort or sophistication—barely scraping the edge of what you could call livable. It was carved directly into the rugged stone of The Void, the walls rough and jagged, almost as if the place had been hastily gouged out of the earth itself. The dim, flickering light from an old, industrial lamp hanging from the ceiling cast long, moody shadows across the room, bathing everything in a sickly yellow glow that made the space feel even more claustrophobic.

The air was thick and stale, carrying the scent of dust, old leather, and alcohol. Clearly, Logan had made his mark here, judging by the half-empty bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand and the assortment of liquor bottles haphazardly strewn around a makeshift shelf that looked like it was barely holding itself together. The shelves, if they could even be called that, were cluttered with random supplies—canned goods, rusted tools, and whatever scavenged items the resistance had managed to scrape together from the remnants of pruned timelines.

Everything felt worn. The furniture looked like it had been pulled from a dozen different realities and pieced together with duct tape and desperation. The place had the vibe of a bunker, the kind of space where people only stayed because they had no other choice. It was survival, plain and simple. The walls, carved from rough stone, were dark, cold, and unforgiving. You could see faint cracks running along the surface, like the place was on the verge of collapsing in on itself.

The only window—a narrow, jagged slit in the rock—allowed a sliver of pale light to leak in from the outside, but it was barely enough to cut through the gloom. Dust particles floated lazily in the beam of light, the only real movement in the otherwise still room.

This was the heart of the resistance. A hideout that was more cave than command center, more tomb than refuge. It reeked of desperation, of people clinging to existence on the fringes of time.

You let out a sharp, bitter laugh that echoed off the jagged stone walls around you.

Maybe this was where you belonged. A graveyard for misfits and mistakes. People like you—people who never quite fit in anywhere else.

The whole situation felt like some kind of cosmic joke, and you were the punchline. The universe had played its cards, and they were stacked against you.

Seriously, The Void? The one time you stepped out of your comfort zone—left behind the familiar chaos of Hell’s Kitchen and the vigilante lifestyle you’d clung to—and this is where you ended up. Not just in some time-warped hellhole, but standing here, in the middle of all this chaos, staring at him.

Your soulmate.

The irony was so thick, you could choke on it. You’d spent your entire life spitting in the face of fate, scoffing at the idea of soulmates, of destiny—of any kind of higher power having a say in your future. You didn’t need anyone. You didn’t need to be completed. But now? Now you were standing in front of the man who was supposed to be your other half, and everything you believed about yourself was unraveling.

Remy LeBeau leaned casually against the wall, as if none of this chaos even fazed him. Like he was the king of his own personal wasteland. His red-on-black eyes were locked on you, that damn playing card twirling lazily between his fingers. He looked dangerous, like something out of a nightmare, and yet there was something magnetic about him—something you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried.

The moment you’d realized who he was—what he was to you—a cold dread had settled in your chest, but it was laced with something else. Something darker. Something that made your skin prickle and your heart pound. The bond between you had snapped into place the second your eyes met, and now it felt like the very air between you was charged, humming with a raw, electric energy.

And of course, Wade Wilson couldn’t resist commenting on it.

“Are you serious?” Wade said, throwing up his hands dramatically, like he was personally offended by the entire situation. “Of all the people in the multiverse, you—you—end up with that guy?” He jabbed a finger in Remy’s direction, his voice dripping with exaggerated disbelief. “I mean, come on. You’re all, ‘I don’t need anyone, I’m too cool for feelings,’ and now the universe sticks you with Mister Smooth Criminal over there? This is like some soap opera-level shit.”

You shot Wade a glare that could melt iron. “Wade, I swear to God, if you don’t shut your mouth, I will—”

“Oh, I know, I know. You’ll rip my arms off, jam them somewhere unpleasant, and then probably throw me off a cliff. Heard it all before, sweetheart,” Wade interrupted, waving you off like your threats meant nothing. “But seriously, this is hilarious. You’ve spent years acting like emotions are a waste of time, and now? Now you’re standing there, all ‘oh no, my soulmate’, and it’s just—” Wade let out a laugh that was way too loud, slapping his knee for effect. “It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion, but I can’t look away.”

Logan, leaning against the crumbling wall nearby, grunted. He was holding his bottle of whiskey like it was the only thing keeping him sane. “This is a goddamn mess,” he muttered, taking a long swig. “First we get pruned. Now we’re stuck in The Void. And on top of that, I gotta deal with this soulmate bullshit? Give me a break.”

Beside him, Laura crossed her arms, her eyes darting between you and Remy with a mixture of curiosity and disgust, like she couldn’t decide if this whole thing was fascinating or just plain gross. “Soulmates are stupid,” she muttered, her voice flat. “It’s all just chemicals in the brain.”

“Smart kid,” Logan grunted, nodding in agreement. “Soulmates are a load of crap.”

“Hey, let’s not pretend this isn’t entertaining,” Wade chimed in again, as if he was narrating some kind of reality TV show. “I mean, look at her! She’s practically vibrating with feelings.” He leaned in toward you, dropping his voice to a mock whisper. “You’re dying inside, aren’t you? I can see it. You hate this. You hate him.” Wade wiggled his eyebrows, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “But you’re also kinda into it. Aren’t you?”

You clenched your fists at your sides, trying—failing—to ignore the way your pulse quickened under Remy’s steady, unwavering gaze. “Wade, I swear, I’m going to kill you.”

Wade, of course, was unfazed. He was leaning against a pile of crates, grinning like a kid at a carnival, clearly enjoying the chaos. “Oh, please,” he drawled, waving a hand dismissively. “You’re not gonna kill me. You’re too busy having your little soulmate moment with Tall, Dark, and Cajun over there.”

But you barely heard Wade. The second you realized who Remy LeBeau truly was to you, it was like the entire world around you shifted. No—it wasn’t just the world. It was the very fabric of reality itself. It started small, like the faintest tremor beneath your feet, something you could almost brush off as nothing. But then it grew, swelling into something so massive, so all-consuming, that it felt as if the ground you stood on had been ripped out from under you.

The Void—a wasteland that had always been cold, indifferent, devoid of life or warmth—suddenly felt alive.

You felt it in your chest first—a tremor, subtle but undeniable, like the distant rumble of a coming storm. And that tremor… it spread. It unraveled across your skin, sinking into your bones, weaving itself into the very core of you.

And yet, no matter how much your mind screamed at you to run, to put as much distance between you and him as possible, your body refused to obey. You were rooted to the spot, standing in the center of the hideout, surrounded by the others, but it was as if none of them existed. It was as if there was only him. Remy LeBeau.

Because somehow, deep down, in the marrow of your bones, you already knew the truth.

He was yours.

The realization hit you like a tidal wave, sudden and brutal, knocking the air from your lungs and leaving you breathless. You had heard the stories your whole life—about soulmates, about that unbreakable bond that tied one person to another. But they had always seemed like just that: stories. Something that happened to other people. Not you. Never you. And it wasn’t some gentle tug on your heartstrings. No soft, romantic whisper in your mind. No, this was something primal. Something fierce. It gripped you with the force of a storm, pulling you toward him with an intensity that terrified you. It was as if the universe itself had woven an invisible thread between the two of you—one so strong, so unyielding, that nothing, not even the vast, infinite wasteland of The Void, could sever it.

And that terrified you. Because Remy LeBeau was dangerous. Not just because of his reputation, though that alone should have been enough to send you running. No, it was something more than that. It was the way he looked at you, with those smoldering eyes that seemed to burn with a fire only you could see. It was the way his presence seemed to fill the space between you, making it hard to breathe, hard to think.  It was the way he smiled—crooked, sly, and all too knowing—like he already knew exactly what was happening inside of you, like he could feel the same pull, the same bond.

You hated it. You hated him for making you feel like this, for making you vulnerable in a way you had never been before. You had built walls around yourself, high and impenetrable—walls that had kept you safe, that had kept you from ever getting too close to anyone. But Remy… he didn’t just tear those walls down. He shattered them with a single look, a single sentence. And now, there was nowhere to hide.

Your chest tightened with the weight of it all, with the overwhelming realization that your life had just irrevocably changed. You hadn’t asked for this. You hadn’t asked for him. But fate, it seemed, had other plans. And as much as you wanted to fight it, as much as you wanted to push him away and run as far from him as you could, you knew it would be futile.

Because Remy LeBeau wasn’t just some man. He was your soulmate. He was the one person in the universe who was meant for you, the one person who could see you, truly see you, in a way no one else ever could.

But for now, standing just behind Wade, facing down the man who looked like sin and danger incarnate, all you could do was stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest, your breath catching in your throat. You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process the whirlwind of emotions crashing through you. Remy’s red-on-black eyes held yours for what felt like an eternity—burning, intense, and all-knowing. There was an unspoken energy between you, something deep and raw that neither of you could deny. It clung to the air, thick and palpable, like the charge before a lightning strike. You could feel the bond settling into place, and for a moment, it was as if the entire world had narrowed to just the two of you.

But then, something shifted in his gaze. His attention flickered, his eyes moving from yours to something—or rather, someone—just behind you. The soft clinking of glass reached your ears, the sound breaking the spell that had wrapped around you like a vice. You blinked, pulling yourself out of the trance just as Remy’s expression shifted from intense to something more amused, more dangerous.

“You know,” Remy began, pausing his casual shuffling of a deck of cards as he tilted his head slightly to the side, his Cajun accent thick and dripping with charm, “we never had a Wolverine up in here.” He let the words hang in the air, a playful grin tugging at the corner of his lips, but there was an edge to it, something sharp beneath the surface. His fingers stilled on the cards, and his gaze narrowed just a fraction. “But I can tell you now, mon ami, it’s just a common courtesy t’ask before y’drink up all of my liquor.”

His voice dropped lower, the playful lilt giving way to something more dangerous—a warning.

You turned on instinct, curiosity pulling you to glance over your shoulder. Sure enough, there stood Logan, the unmistakable figure of Wolverine, holding up a half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand and wearing that same familiar, dry, unimpressed look on his face. He didn’t seem to care about Remy’s thinly veiled threat, didn’t even flinch at the tension in the air between them.

Logan raised the bottle slightly, his eyes locking with Remy’s, before he took a long, deliberate swig. When he pulled the bottle away from his lips, he gave a small, half-shrug, completely unfazed. “That’s a good thing I don’t give a fuck,” he said gruffly, his voice low and gravelly, as he took another long drink, clearly not in the mood for a pissing contest.

You could almost hear the smirk forming on Remy’s lips behind you.

Remy let out a short chuckle, but there was no humor in it. It was the kind of laugh that sent a shiver down your spine, one that promised trouble. His fingers moved in a blur, and before you could even process what was happening, one of his cards glowed with that unmistakable pinkish energy. Charged with kinetic power, the card was flicked so fast it was a blur of light and motion. The next thing you knew, the bottle in Logan’s hand exploded with a sharp, cracking sound, shards of glass spraying outward.

You jumped back, your heart racing, instinctively throwing up your arms to shield yourself from the debris. The air was thick with the scent of whiskey and ozone from the charged card as you quickly glanced at Logan, who looked more irritated than anything else. Shards of glass littered the floor, and Logan stood there, bottle neck in hand, whiskey dripping from his knuckles, his expression somewhere between annoyed and unimpressed.

“Asshole,” Logan grumbled under his breath, barely sparing Remy a glance as he tossed the broken remnants of the bottle aside. Glass shattered at his feet, but he didn’t care. He was already reaching for another bottle from the bar, twisting the cap off with the kind of casual ease that said this kind of shit happened all the time in his world. And knowing Logan? It probably did. He took a long, slow swig, completely unfazed by the mess of glass and whiskey at his feet.

You stood there, arms crossed, watching this little pissing contest between Remy and Logan with a mixture of irritation and exhaustion. The Void had already drained most of your patience, and this macho shit wasn’t helping. Your head throbbed, and your throat was dry, but the last thing you needed was to get tangled up in whatever testosterone-laced nonsense these two were brewing, “Close up abilities. Now I get it,” You said simply.

Remy didn’t miss a beat, though. He turned to you, his smirk still firmly in place, eyes gleaming with that damnable charm that seemed to ooze from him. “I charge up the cards, make 'em go boom,” he explained as if you hadn’t already figured that out. His voice was smooth, that Cajun drawl curling around the words like smoke.

You rolled your eyes, feeling a headache coming on. You didn’t need this right now. Hell, you didn’t need any of this. The Void, Remy LeBeau, the whole “soulmate” business—it was all one long, exhausting cosmic joke, and you were the punchline. You’d spent your whole life avoiding entanglements, keeping people at arm’s length, and now? Now you were supposedly bound to him?

Yeah, fuck that.

“Great,” you said flatly, your voice dripping with disinterest. “You’re a walking fire hazard. Good for you.”

Remy’s grin didn’t falter, though. If anything, it seemed to widen. “Y’got a sharp tongue, cher,” he mused, his eyes never leaving yours. “But I like that. Keeps things interestin’.”

“You must be a riot at parties,” you shot back, feeling your temper flare. You didn’t like the way he was looking at you, like he could see something in you that you didn’t want anyone seeing. And you definitely didn’t like the way your heart had skipped a beat when he called you cher.

You weren’t some starry-eyed romantic. You weren’t the kind of person who believed in fate or soulmates or any of that bullshit. You were practical. Hard. Worn down by the world in more ways than you could count. And now? Now you were supposed to believe that this cocky, card-throwing, smooth-talking asshole was your other half?

Fuck. That.

Before you could say anything else, Elektra stepped in, her voice sharp and cutting through the tension like a blade. “Enough,” she said, her gaze flicking between you and Remy. “We’re wasting time. You can all lay low here while we figure out how to get out of this…place.”

You took a deep breath, grateful for the distraction. The Void was starting to mess with your head, and the last thing you needed was to be stuck here, in this weird limbo, dealing with Remy and his infuriating charm. Blade and Elektra might not be the warmest hosts, but at least they were practical. You could work with practical.

“Fine,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair. “Let’s just get the hell out of here.”

Blade, who had been silent up until now, gave you a brief nod. He didn’t say much, but then again, he never did. He was a man of action, not words, and right now, that was exactly what you needed.

As the group started to make plans about what was needed to get you all out, Remy sidled up next to you, his presence unmistakable. He moved like a cat—silent, fluid, and way too close for comfort.

“Y’know, cher,” he began, his voice low and smooth, “we ain’t gotta pretend like this soulmate thing don’t mean nothin’.”

You stiffened, your jaw clenching as you kept your eyes firmly ahead, refusing to look at him. “I don’t believe in soulmates,” you said, your voice clipped and cold. “And even if I did, you wouldn’t be it.”

He chuckled softly, the sound like warm honey slipping through the cracks in your armor. “That so?” he asked, his tone teasing, but there was something deeper underneath it, something that made your pulse quicken against your will. “Seems like the universe disagrees wit’ y’, cher.”

“The universe can go fuck itself,” you snapped. “I don’t care what some cosmic bullshit says. I don’t want a soulmate. I don’t need a soulmate.”

Remy’s grin softened, but his eyes—those damn red-on-black eyes—stayed locked on yours, unflinching. “Maybe y’jus’ scared, non?” he suggested, his voice gentle in a way that made your throat tighten. “Maybe y’jus’ don’t wanna admit that someone out there might actually care ‘bout y’.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you hated him for it. Hated him for seeing past the walls you’d built, for seeing the cracks underneath. You’d spent years keeping people at bay, pushing them away before they could get too close. You weren’t about to let some smooth-talking thief break down the walls you’d spent a lifetime building.

As Remy stood there, watching you struggle to form the words, he could feel the weight of it all pressing down on him. He wasn’t used to this—this feeling. This raw, undeniable connection that hummed between the two of you like a live wire. It was unsettling, even for him. And that was saying something. He was Gambit, after all—the man who could slip in and out of any situation, any heart, without leaving too much behind. He was the one who played with danger, danced on the edge of chaos, and never got too close.

But this… this was different.

From the moment he locked eyes with you, something shifted inside him. It wasn’t just the pull he felt, that deep, bone-deep knowing that came with the soulmate bond. It was you—the fire in your eyes, the way you carried yourself like you didn’t need anyone, like you were ready to take on the world by yourself. He could see it, clear as day. The walls you’d built around yourself, the way you guarded your heart like a fortress. And he knew—he knew—that you weren’t the type to let anyone in easily.

But still… there was something about you. Something that made him want to try.

He watched as you opened your mouth, clearly ready to tell him off, to push him away just like you’d done from the moment you realized who he was to you. It was almost predictable at this point. But the words didn’t come. And in that silence, in that tiny moment where you faltered, he saw it—the fear. The fear you were trying so hard to hide, the fear that ran deeper than any anger or frustration you threw his way.

You were scared. Not of him. No, this wasn’t about him at all. You were scared of what he represented. Of the bond that tied you together, a bond neither of you had asked for but couldn’t deny. You were scared of letting someone in—scared of what it would mean if you did.

And Remy understood that. Hell, he understood it better than most. He’d spent most of his life running from the same thing. But now, standing here, so close to you that he could feel the heat rolling off your skin, he realized something.

He didn’t want to run anymore.

He sighed, his usual cocky bravado slipping away as he lowered his voice, speaking softly so that no one else could hear. “Look, cher,” he began, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “I ain’t sayin’ we gotta make this more than it is right now.” He paused, glancing down for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “But if y’want to talk ‘bout it… I’m here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

He could see the conflict in your eyes, the way your heart was warring with your head. You were staring at him like he was offering you something dangerous, something you didn’t want to touch. And maybe he was. Maybe everything about him was dangerous. But this? This was as honest as he’d ever been. He wasn’t trying to charm you, wasn’t trying to push you into anything. He just wanted you to know that he was there—really there, in a way he rarely was for anyone else.

Because for the first time in a long time, he wanted to be.

You stood there, your eyes locked on his, and for a brief second, he thought you might take him up on it. That maybe, just maybe, you’d let him in. But then you blinked, the walls sliding back into place, and you shook your head just slightly, as if shaking off the moment entirely.

“Thanks,” you muttered, the word stiff and awkward on your tongue, like it physically hurt to say it. “But I’m good.”

Remy chuckled softly, though this time, there was no teasing in it. No smugness. Just understanding. He knew what it felt like to keep people at arm’s length, to convince yourself that you didn’t need anyone. And he wasn’t going to push you. Not now. Maybe not ever. But he wanted you to know that the door was open.

“Alright, cher,” he said, his voice low, carrying just the faintest hint of warmth. “But the offer’s always open.”

With that, he gave you a small nod and turned away, his boots scuffing softly against the stone floor as he walked back toward the others. Each step he took felt heavier than the last, like he was leaving something behind. But he didn’t look back. He wanted to—hell, he wanted to stay there with you, to push past the walls you’d put up. But he knew better. You weren’t ready. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

And that was okay. He could wait.

He didn’t hate you for it. How could he? He understood your fear because he felt it too. Every part of him wanted to reach out, to close the distance between you, but he knew that wasn’t how this worked. You couldn’t force something like this. It had to be mutual.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the way his heart raced when he thought about you—the way his pulse quickened every time he caught your scent in the air or heard your voice. It scared the hell out of him, but it also thrilled him in a way nothing ever had before. There was something electric between you, something raw and untamed, and no matter how much you both tried to fight it, it was there.

He could only hope that one day, you’d stop fighting it too.

For now, though, he’d give you space. He’d wait. Because no matter how much you hated this—hated him—he knew the truth. He was yours. And deep down, no matter how hard you tried to deny it, you were his too.

It was just a matter of time. <><><<><><><><><><>

Night had fallen—or at least, the closest approximation of night that The Void allowed. The dim, eternal twilight of this place never truly changed, but the group had settled into a rhythm regardless. People took turns keeping watch, sleeping in shifts, always on edge, never fully relaxed. This was a place where vigilance was as crucial as breathing.

You were sitting on the edge of a half-collapsed structure that passed for shelter, absently cleaning your weapons. The air here was thick with tension, the weight of too many lives twisted together by circumstance. You could feel the others moving around you—Logan muttering quietly with Laura, Wade humming some off-key pop song while sharpening his katanas. The scrape of metal on stone was oddly comforting in the silence.

And then there was Remy.

He’d been unusually quiet since the decision was made to stay, his usual smirk replaced by something more thoughtful, more restrained. You’d caught him watching you a few times, his red-on-black eyes lingering on you in that maddening, unreadable way of his. It wasn’t the cocky, playful look he usually gave people—it was something else. Something that made your heart clench uncomfortably in your chest.

He approached you now, his footsteps soft and deliberate. You didn’t look up as he stopped in front of you, but you could feel his presence like a storm on the horizon—electric, dangerous, impossible to ignore.

“Y’alright, cher?” he asked, his voice low, almost gentle.

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure the answer was true. “Fine.”

Remy didn’t press, just stood there for a moment, his hands casually tucked into his coat pockets. You could feel his eyes on you again, like he was searching for something in your expression that you weren’t ready to give. You hated how easily he could read you, how he seemed to see past all the walls you’d spent years building.

“Look,” he said after a moment, his voice dropping even lower, more personal. “I’m takin’ first watch tonight.” He gestured toward the makeshift sleeping area behind him. “Y’can take my cot.”

You finally looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “You’re giving me your bed?”

He shrugged, like it was no big deal. “Gotta sleep somewhere, non? ‘Sides, I’ll be up all night anyway. Might as well put it to good use.”

You stared at him for a long moment, trying to figure out his angle. Remy LeBeau was always playing a game, always working some angle, but this felt… different. There wasn’t that usual glint of mischief in his eyes, no smirk tugging at his lips. He seemed sincere, and that made you more uncomfortable than anything else.

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice coming out a little harsher than you intended. “I don’t need your bed.”

Remy’s lips twitched, a faint shadow of his usual grin. “‘Course you don’t. But it’s there if y’want it.”

There was something disarming about the way he said it, like he wasn’t offering out of pity or obligation, but simply because he wanted to. And that unsettled you more than anything. You were used to people wanting things from you—information, strength, loyalty. But this? This felt like something else.

You glanced past him, toward the others. Logan was already stretched out on the floor, eyes closed but not fully asleep. Laura was perched nearby, her gaze sharp as ever. Wade was still humming to himself, completely absorbed in whatever bizarre internal monologue was playing out in his head. No one was watching you and Remy, but you felt exposed all the same.

“Thanks,” you muttered, the word awkward and stiff in your mouth.

Remy nodded, the movement slow and easy, like he hadn’t expected anything more. “No problem, cher.”

He turned to leave, but paused for just a moment before walking away. His eyes flicked back to yours, and for a second, there was something unspoken, something heavy hanging between you. It wasn’t the usual flirtation, the playful banter you’d come to expect from him. It was something deeper. More vulnerable. Like he was offering you more than just a place to sleep.

Later, long after the others had settled into some semblance of sleep, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the cot. The cot smelled faintly of him—of smoke and leather and something else, something warm and familiar. You hated how comforting it was, how it made your chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with fear or anger.

You glanced toward the entrance of the shelter where Remy was keeping watch, his silhouette barely visible in the half-light. He was leaning against the crumbling wall, his posture relaxed but alert, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of danger.

He hadn’t asked for anything in return. He hadn’t pushed or pried or tried to make you talk about the bond that hung between you like a noose. He had simply offered what he could—his cot, his quiet presence—and it was more than you’d expected.

And that scared you more than anything.

Because for the first time in a long time, you weren’t sure if you wanted to push him away. <><><><><><><> The Void was a place that gnawed at you, a wasteland of perpetual twilight where time seemed to stretch and twist. The longer you stayed, the more it got under your skin—like an itch you couldn’t scratch, or a weight that pressed down on your chest, leaving you breathless. The others felt it too, you could tell. Even Logan, with all his gruff resilience, had been more irritable than usual, his temper flaring at the smallest things. Wade, for all his jokes and endless chatter, had moments where his eyes flickered with something darker, something he tried to bury under layers of sarcasm.

But it hit you differently.

At first, you didn’t want to acknowledge it. You were used to keeping your distance, to handling your own problems, pushing everything deep down where it couldn’t hurt you—or anyone else. You had your walls, and they’d served you well. The Void, though, had a way of slipping through the cracks, of amplifying every doubt, every fear you’d buried. The anxiety started creeping in, subtle at first—a knot in your stomach, an edge of paranoia that made the shadows seem too deep, the silence too loud.

And then there was Remy.

It started with something simple: sparring.

You hadn’t wanted to at first—didn’t want to get too close, didn’t want to let him in. But the Void was unpredictable, and everyone needed to stay sharp. Besides, you told yourself, it wasn’t really about him. It was about you staying strong, keeping your skills honed for when the time came to face Cassandra Nova.

That’s what you told yourself, anyway.

Remy had suggested it with his usual casual charm, leaning against the crumbling wall with that cocky grin of his. “C’mon, cher,” he’d said, spinning one of his bo staffs between his fingers as if it weighed nothing. “A little practice never hurt nobody. Better to be ready than rusty, non?”

You’d hesitated, arms crossed over your chest, giving him a look that said don’t push me. But he didn’t push—not really. He just stood there, watching you with those damn red-on-black eyes, waiting. He had a way of making it seem like it was no big deal, like it was your decision all along. And eventually, reluctantly, you agreed.

The first session was tense. You kept your distance, both physically and emotionally, moving through the motions with precision but no real connection. Remy, to his credit, didn’t try to crowd you. He was quick, graceful, his movements smooth and effortless, but he never pressed too hard. He let you come to him on your terms, even when you were holding back.

By the third or fourth sparring session, though, something shifted.

You still tried to keep him at arm’s length, but Remy had a way of sneaking past defenses you didn’t even realize you’d built. At first, it was just in the way he moved—fluid, controlled, almost playful. He made it look easy, and you found yourself grudgingly respecting that. There was something fascinating about the way he fought, like he was dancing more than sparring, always a step ahead, always with some trick up his sleeve. It was infuriating, but also… captivating.

It started out simple enough—just sparring. Something to keep your skills sharp, to stay ready for whatever Cassandra or the Void itself might throw at you. At first, it was strictly business. You needed to stay focused, to keep your edge. Remy was just another set of hands, someone to help you maintain that discipline. Nothing more.

But Remy wasn’t the kind of person you could keep at a distance for long. He had a way of weaving his charm into every moment, slipping through the cracks of your defenses before you even realized it. And then there were the words. The banter.

Remy had a silver tongue, and he used it often, throwing out quips and teases mid-spar, his voice smooth and rich, like honeyed whiskey. That Cajun accent curled around every syllable, wrapping even the most mundane phrases in a kind of warmth you hadn’t expected. At first, you resisted it—tried to stay focused, tried to keep the interaction strictly professional. You needed to stay in control. You needed—wanted—to keep him at arm’s length.

But damn, did he make it hard.

"You’re slippin’, cher,” he’d said one day, dodging a punch with infuriating ease. He moved like smoke—fluid, untouchable, always just out of reach. His grin was lazy, teasing, like he wasn’t even breaking a sweat. “Might have to start callin’ you slowpoke instead of powerhouse.”

You’d glared at him, narrowing your eyes as you pulled back your fist and readied yourself for another strike. But the heat behind the glare wasn’t real, and you both knew it. “Shut up, LeBeau.”

He chuckled, low and soft, his eyes flashing with amusement. “Don’t worry,” he purred, sidestepping your next move with maddening ease. “I’ll go easy on ya.”

At first, you told yourself it didn’t matter. That it was just part of the sparring, part of the game. A way to keep things light, to take the edge off the endless tension that hung over all of you like a dark cloud. The constant threat of the Void weighed heavy on everyone’s shoulders, and if Remy wanted to joke around to keep things from getting too bleak, then fine. You could deal with that.

But then he made you laugh.

It started small—a half-smirk here, a quiet huff of amusement there. But before long, you found yourself smiling more, even when you didn’t want to. Even when you were trying to stay serious, trying to keep your distance. His words had a way of slipping under your skin, taking the edge off your frustration, easing the weight of the Void pressing down on you.

One day, after narrowly dodging one of your kicks, he had the audacity to wink at you. “Gotta do better than that, cher,” he said, his voice dripping with playful arrogance. “You’re makin’ this too easy.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile as you lunged at him again, faster this time. “You talk too much.”

“Maybe,” he replied, easily dodging your punch and spinning behind you in one fluid motion. His voice was low and close to your ear. “But you like it, non?”

You froze for a split second, caught off guard—not by his proximity, but by how right he was. You did like it. More than you wanted to admit. More than you were supposed to.

Remy took advantage of your hesitation, sweeping your legs out from under you in one swift move. You landed on the mat with a soft thud, and before you could even catch your breath, he was crouched next to you, his grin wide and unapologetic.

“Gotta keep focused, cher,” he said, not bothering to hide his amusement. “Can’t let me distract you like that.”

You glared up at him, your pride stinging more than the fall. “I wasn’t distracted.”

“Sure you weren’t.” He winked again, offering you a hand to help you up. You hesitated for a heartbeat before taking it, letting him pull you to your feet with ease.

It was in that moment, standing there with his hand still wrapped around yours, that you realized something had shifted. The banter, the teasing—it wasn’t just a game anymore. Not for him. Not for you.

The days passed in a blur of sparring sessions, supply runs, and restless nights in the Void. And somehow, Remy was always there—always close, always watching with that infuriatingly knowing gaze, like he could see right through you. He never pushed too hard, never pried into the things he knew you weren’t ready to share. But he was there. Always there.

And the more time you spent with him, the harder it became to keep your walls intact.

It wasn’t just the banter anymore. It was the way he looked at you—the way his eyes softened when you let your guard down, even for a moment. The way he seemed to know when you needed space and when you needed him to be close. The way he could make you forget, just for a little while, about the weight of the Void pressing down on your chest.

And then there were the moments in between the sparring, the quiet moments when it was just the two of you, sitting in silence after a long day of searching for supplies. You’d sit there, side by side, watching the strange, shifting horizon of the Void, neither of you saying anything. And somehow, those were the moments that felt the most intimate. The most real.

The anxiety came in waves, subtle at first. You’d be walking through the endless twilight, your eyes scanning the horizon for supplies or landmarks, when the air would feel too thick, too heavy. Your heart would start to race for no reason, your chest tightening like there was something you couldn’t quite reach. It wasn’t long before the paranoia followed—shadows that seemed too long, sounds that didn’t belong, the feeling that someone—something—was watching you.

You tried to push it down, to ignore it. You told yourself it was just stress, just the pressure of the mission, of being stuck in this godforsaken place for too long. But it wasn’t just stress. The Void was getting to you, worming its way into your mind, twisting your thoughts, making everything feel wrong.

You hadn’t noticed how much you’d been slipping until one day, after a particularly long supply run, you found yourself standing still in the middle of a clearing, unable to move, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts. The shadows had started to feel like they were closing in, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if they were real or just in your head. Everything felt too close, too heavy.

Remy had noticed immediately.

He’d been walking a few paces ahead but turned when he realized you’d stopped. His eyes flicked over you, taking in your stiff posture, the way your hands were clenched into fists at your sides, the tremor you couldn’t quite hide.

"Hey,” he said, his voice soft but urgent as he stepped toward you. “Cher, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, trying to force the panic down, trying to act like you were fine. “It’s nothing,” you muttered, your voice tight. “Let’s just keep moving.”

But Remy didn’t buy it. He stepped closer, his gaze steady, his voice calm. “It’s The Void,” he said quietly. “It does this. Gets in your head. Makes you feel like everything’s closin’ in.”

You looked at him, your heart still racing, your chest still tight. “It’s not me?” The question slipped out before you could stop it, and you hated how vulnerable it sounded, how raw.

Remy shook his head, his eyes soft with understanding. “Non, cher. It ain’t you. This place… it messes with everyone. I’ve seen it before. Makes the strongest people doubt themselves. Makes ‘em feel like they’re losin’ control.”

His words sank into you, slowly easing some of the tension in your chest. You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “How do you deal with it?”

Remy’s lips twitched into a small, wry smile. “You don’t, really. You just remind yourself it’s not real. Not you. And you stick close to the people who ground you. The ones who keep you from slippin’ too far.”

He was close now, closer than he usually got, but his presence wasn’t overwhelming. It was steady, solid. You could feel the warmth of him, the calm certainty in his voice, and for the first time in days, the anxiety that had been gnawing at you started to ease.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Thanks.”

Remy’s smile softened, his eyes never leaving yours. “Anytime, cher.”

And in that moment, something shifted. The walls you’d built around yourself—the ones you’d spent so long reinforcing—didn’t feel quite so necessary anymore. Maybe, just maybe, there was someone here worth letting in.

Maybe Remy wasn’t just breaking down your walls.

Maybe you were letting him. It wasn’t long before the two of you were paired off for other tasks. The group had to split up often—The Void was a vast, ever-changing landscape, and supplies were scarce. Remy had started volunteering to go with you on these supply runs, offering to help navigate the twisted terrain. You’d been reluctant at first, not wanting to spend more time with him than necessary, but you couldn’t exactly refuse without drawing questions.

So you went.

The first few trips were quiet. You kept your eyes on the horizon, on the strange, shifting landscape that seemed to pulse and breathe around you, always changing, always disorienting. Remy was more subdued during these runs, his usual cocky banter replaced by a quiet focus. He didn’t push for conversation, didn’t try to pry into your thoughts. He just walked beside you, his presence steady, his eyes always scanning for danger.

But eventually, the silence between you started to feel less like a barrier and more like a space where something else could grow.

You’d catch him watching you sometimes, his gaze soft but thoughtful, like he was trying to figure you out without pushing too hard. And slowly, you found yourself opening up, if only a little. It wasn’t anything dramatic—just small moments, little cracks in the wall. A comment here, a shared look there. You still kept your distance, still tried to hold him at bay, but it was harder and harder to deny that something was shifting between you. <><><><><><><<><> The fire crackled softly between you, casting flickering shadows across the rough terrain. The heat from the flames was comforting, a rare warmth in a world that had been so unforgiving. You and Remy sat side by side, the air around you thick with unspoken tension, the weight of what was to come hanging heavy between you. Tomorrow, you would face Cassandra, and if you succeeded, you would finally have a chance to return home.

But tonight, it was just the two of you, the fire, and the quiet of the night.

Remy leaned back, propping himself on his elbows, his eyes reflecting the orange glow of the fire. He had that familiar, easy smile playing on his lips, but you knew him well enough now to see through it. There was something deeper in his expression tonight. Something he wasn’t saying.

“We really gonna do this, huh?” he asked, his voice low and casual, as if you were talking about some small, inconsequential thing rather than the life-or-death mission you were about to undertake.

You gave a small nod, your gaze fixed on the flames. “Looks like it.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I gotta admit, cher, you got more guts than I gave you credit for when we first met.”

You smirked, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “Took you long enough to figure that out, Cajun.”

His laugh was a little louder this time, full of warmth, and for a moment, it felt normal. Like you weren’t sitting in the middle of a war-torn world, like you weren’t about to walk into a battle that could very well be your last. Like it was just you and Remy, sharing a quiet night by the fire.

“What are y’gonn do when ya get back?” He asked, shifting the conversation to lighter ground, even though there was nothing light about the question. “Y’know, assuming we don’t die tomorrow.” He leaned back, looking up at the sky.

You leaned back, mirroring his pose, staring up at the stars. “Honestly? I haven’t thought that far ahead. Probably sleep for a week. Maybe get a drink that doesn’t taste like dirt.”

He grinned. “Now that’s a plan.”

The banter was light, easy, but it was just a way to fill the silence, “What about you? What’s your grand plan?” You both knew there were bigger things left unsaid. As that thought sank in, the conversation started to lull, and the familiar quiet settled between you.

And then, after a long pause, Remy’s voice cut through the stillness, quieter this time.

“I ain’t goin’ back.”

You blinked, the weight of his words sinking in as you turned to look at him. His gaze was now on the fire, his expression unreadable, but there was something resigned in the way he said it.

“What do you mean?” you asked, though you already had a feeling what he was going to say.

“There’s nothin’ for me out there,” he replied, his voice soft, almost matter-of-fact. “The world you come from? That ain’t my world no more. Ain’t been for a long time.”

You stared at him, the crackling of the fire the only sound between you for a long moment. His words hit harder than you expected, the finality of them settling in your chest like a stone. And for a second, you couldn’t speak. You just let the silence stretch, trying to process what he was saying.

After a moment, you swallowed and looked back at the fire, your voice quieter than before. “You have me.”

Remy’s smile was small, sad, as if he appreciated the sentiment but knew better. He shook his head, his eyes softening as they met yours. “Cher… you got a life waitin’ for you. A real life. People who care ‘bout you. Friends. Family. I don’t got none of that.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him that wasn’t true, that you cared about him, that he wasn’t alone—but he cut you off before you could speak.

“I’ve accepted that I ain’t ever leavin’ here,” he said, his voice steady, resigned. “My job is to get you home.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. The fire flickered, casting shadows across his face, but you could see the truth written in his eyes. He had already made his peace with it. He didn’t see a future for himself beyond this world, beyond this fight.

And the worst part? He wasn’t saying it to be noble. He wasn’t trying to be a martyr. He genuinely believed it. He had spent so long surviving, so long fighting, that he had forgotten what it meant to live. To hope for something better.

“Remy…” Your voice was soft, barely a whisper, but he heard it. His eyes flicked to yours, and you saw a flicker of something there—something vulnerable, something that told you he wasn’t as sure as he pretended to be.

“I’m serious, cher,” he said, his voice gentler now. “You’re gonna get through that portal tomorrow. And when you do, you’re gonna go home. That’s all that matters.”

You shook your head, your chest tight. “And what about you? What happens to you?”

He smiled again, that sad, resigned smile that made your heart ache. “I’ll be right where I belong.”

The silence stretched between you once more, heavy and painful. You wanted to argue, to tell him that he belonged with you, that this damn world didn’t have to be the end for him. But the words wouldn’t come. Maybe because deep down, you knew he had already made up his mind.

But that didn’t stop the knot in your chest from tightening, didn’t stop the pain from settling deep in your bones. You didn’t want to leave him behind. You didn’t want to lose him. Because somewhere along the way, in the middle of all the chaos and the fighting, he had become more than just a teammate. More than just a partner in this war.

He had become a part of you.

You stared at the fire, your heart heavy, and for a moment, you just sat in that silence, letting it wash over you. There were no easy answers. No promises that could be made. But there was one thing you knew for certain.

“I don’t want to go home without you,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible. It wasn’t a plea. It wasn’t even a question. It was just the simple, painful truth.

Remy didn’t say anything for a long time. His gaze softened, and when he finally spoke, his voice was gentle, as if he was trying to ease the ache in your chest. “You’ll be alright, cher. You stronger than you know.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. But you nodded, because what else could you do? You couldn’t change his mind. Not now. Not after everything.

The fire crackled softly between you, and for the rest of the night, you sat together in silence, knowing that tomorrow would change everything. <><><><><><><> The car rattled over the uneven road, the worn leather beneath you creaking with every bump. You shifted in your seat, trying to find some semblance of comfort between Remy and Blade, but there was none to be found. The desert stretched endlessly outside the window, the heat of the sun beating down on the roof of the car, casting sharp shadows that flickered across the flat, barren landscape. You could feel the tension in the air like a living thing, thick and oppressive, weighing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.

The silence wasn’t peaceful. It wasn’t the kind of quiet you could sink into and find some relief. No, this was the kind of silence that felt like a coiled spring, ready to snap at any moment. Everyone was on edge. Laura’s knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel, eyes laser-focused on the road ahead, while Blade sat rigid beside you, his hand twitching toward the hilt of his sword every few minutes as if he was expecting an attack. Logan, crammed into the trunk, hadn’t said a word since you’d started driving, though you could practically feel his irritation simmering from behind you.

And then there was Remy.

Ever the charmer, he’d tried to break the tension earlier. That Cajun drawl of his had slipped through the thick air, lazy and teasing as he cracked some half-assed joke about how, if the car got any more crowded, you might as well sit on his lap. He’d said it like it was nothing, like it was just another one of his flirty quips, but you weren’t in the mood. Not today. One sharp glare from you had shut him up for the rest of the ride.

Good. You didn’t have the patience for his bullshit right now.

You closed your eyes, trying to block out the world, trying to shut down the endless churn of thoughts swirling in your head. You couldn’t stop thinking about what was coming. The portal. Cassandra’s lair. The end of this whole disaster, one way or another. You weren’t naive—you knew the odds. Chances were, none of you would make it out of this alive. Maybe Logan and Wade would, with their damn healing factors, but the rest of you? You weren’t optimistic. And honestly? You didn’t care. Whether you walked through that portal or died trying, it didn’t matter. Either way, you wouldn’t be dealing with this soulmate bullshit for much longer.

Wade had dragged you into this mess, and you’d never forgive him for it. You’d liked your life before all this—a life that made sense, a life that was simple. You’d spent your time knocking heads together, punching bad guys, getting a drink afterward. That was your zone. That was where you were comfortable. But this? Traveling through time and universes, being tossed around by multiverse drama like some kind of cosmic joke? This was so far out of your pay grade it was laughable.

And yet, somehow, over these long days in the Void, you hadn’t been able to keep your distance. Not from him.

It had started small, as these things always do. Late nights when the others were asleep or pretending to be. You weren’t sure how it happened, but you and Remy had fallen into a routine—quiet conversations under the endless twilight sky, his voice low and easy, drawing you in even when you tried to keep him at arm’s length.

He was always like that. Persistent. Charming in a way that made it impossible to shut him out completely, no matter how hard you tried. At first, you’d kept your guard up, throwing barbed words his way every time he tried to get close, but Remy had this way of slipping through cracks you didn’t even know were there. He never pushed too hard, never asked for more than you were willing to give. He was just… there. And slowly, without you realizing it, he’d started to slip past your defenses.

The first few nights, you hadn’t said much—just sat in silence, the two of you side by side, staring out at the endless horizon of the Void. But Remy had a way of filling the silence, not with words, but with his presence. He made you feel like you didn’t have to talk, like it was okay to just exist for a while, even in this hellish place. And then, after a few nights of that, the words started to come.

He talked about New Orleans, about the life he’d left behind. You learned about the Thieves’ Guild, about the complicated ties that still pulled at him even though he’d been trying to let go for years. He told you about Rogue, about how she’d been the one thing he thought he could never have, and how, in the end, that was exactly what happened. He lost her, and it wasn’t just her he’d lost—it was everything. His home, his purpose.

And now, sitting in the backseat of this cramped car, the weight of what was coming pressing down on your shoulders, you couldn’t stop thinking about that night. About the way Remy had looked at you, like he’d finally seen through all the layers of armor you used to keep everyone at a distance.

You stole a glance at him now, sitting beside you, his gaze fixed on the horizon. His profile was calm, collected, but you knew him well enough by now to see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers fidgeted with the cards he always seemed to have on hand. He hadn’t said a word since you’d shut him down earlier, but you could feel him there, the steady presence you hadn’t realized you’d come to rely on.

It wasn’t much, what you’d offered him that night. Just a few words. But for someone like you, it was everything. You didn’t let people in easily. Hell, you didn’t let people in *at all.* But somehow, over the course of these long days in the Void, Remy had managed to break through. He’d wormed his way past your defenses with his charm, his banter, and his quiet understanding, until you’d found yourself trusting him in a way you hadn’t trusted anyone in a long time.

“You alright, cher?”

His voice broke through your thoughts, soft but steady, and you realized he’d been watching you. You blinked, pushing down the knot of anxiety that had been building in your chest.

“Yeah,” you lied, your voice rougher than you’d intended.

Remy didn’t push. He just nodded, lifting an eyebrow like he could see right through you, but he didn’t call you out. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, his arm brushing against yours in the cramped space.

“You got me, too,” he said quietly, so low you almost didn’t catch it over the hum of the engine.

And just like that, the tension in your chest eased, if only slightly. The Void was still there, still pressing in on all sides, but in that moment, with Remy beside you, it didn’t feel quite so overwhelming.

No matter what happened when you reached Cassandra’s lair, no matter what the Void threw at you next, you weren’t alone. You had him.

And maybe—just maybe—that was enough.

The car came to a violent, screeching halt, Laura slamming down hard on the brakes as the tires kicked up a cloud of dust around the familiar, crumbling building that housed Cassandra’s lair. The sudden stop jolted you forward, and you nearly collided with the seat in front of you if not for the quick reflexes of Blade, whose arm shot out to stop your momentum. You grumbled a quick thanks, brushing it off, and reached for the large gun that had been resting in your lap. One of the few perks of this whole shitshow—you didn’t often get to play with the big guns, and if nothing else, it felt like a small consolation.

As everyone climbed out of the car, you handed the weapon off to Blade, who took it without a word, slinging it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing. The man was a walking tank, and right now, you were glad for it. He gave you a quick nod before positioning himself in front of the building’s reinforced doors, aiming the launcher with ease.

The explosion rocked the world around you, the blast of heat and debris tearing through the air as the doors caved inward. Smoke and dust billowed out from the entrance, and you took a deep breath, letting the acrid scent fill your lungs. This was it. Showtime.

As the rest of the group began to prep for the inevitable fight ahead, you checked your own weapons, making sure everything was in place. Your heart was pounding, but it wasn’t fear. It was focus. You weren’t afraid of the fight; you were afraid of what came after. Of what this would mean for all of you—if any of you survived.

Just as you were about to rejoin the others, a hand grabbed your arm, firm and unyielding. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The grip, the warmth, the silent insistence—it was Remy, and the moment you felt his touch, your chest tightened with a mix of irritation and something else you didn’t want to name.

“Now’s really not the time, LeBeau,” you snapped, trying to pull your arm free, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you in place. His usual playful demeanor was gone, replaced with a seriousness you weren’t used to seeing from him.

“We gotta talk,” he said, his voice low but calm, though there was an edge to it. Something urgent.

You glared at him, shooting him a look you hoped would make him back off. “About what? How you’re a pain in my ass?”

He didn’t rise to the bait. He didn’t even crack a smile. Instead, he stepped closer, his other hand reaching into his coat pocket. “Non, cher. ‘Bout what’s happenin’ between us.” His eyes flicked around, making sure none of the others were paying attention. “Whether y’want it or not, somethin’s goin’ on here. You feel it. I feel it.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to dismiss him, to tell him to shove his soulmate nonsense where the sun didn’t shine, but the words wouldn’t come. Because the truth was, he was right. You did feel it. You’d been feeling it from the moment you locked eyes with him in the Void. Some undeniable tug, some irritating pull that made your skin crawl and your heart race all at the same time.

Soulmates. The very idea made you want to scream. You were a loner by nature. You didn’t need anyone, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be tied to someone—especially someone like Remy LeBeau. Smooth-talking, arrogant, dangerous. Everything about him screamed trouble, and you’d spent your whole life avoiding that kind of attachment.

“Look,” Remy said, pulling something from his pocket and pressing it into your hand. “I ain’t makin’ it outta here, cher. You know it. I know it.”

You looked down at the object in your hand—a small, intricately carved token, old and worn by time. It was warm to the touch, like it had been held close for longer than you could imagine. You frowned, confused. “What’s this?”

“Somethin’ t’remember me by,” he said softly, his voice lacking its usual cocky edge. His gaze was intense, serious, like he was laying everything out on the line. “When this is all over.”

You wanted to laugh, to shove the token back at him and tell him to stop with the dramatic bullshit. But the weight of his words hit you harder than you expected. He wasn’t joking. He really thought he wasn’t going to make it out of this alive. And for some reason, that thought twisted something deep inside you.

You clenched your fist around the token, your throat tightening with something you didn’t want to name. “Don’t be so dramatic,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “You’ll be fine.”

Remy just smiled, but it wasn’t his usual cocky grin. There was something softer behind it, something sad. “Maybe,” he murmured, his fingers brushing against your arm before he pulled away. “But just in case… y’keep that.”

You stared at him, your mind racing, unsure of what the hell to say. Part of you wanted to shove the token back at him, to tell him to stop acting like this was some kind of final goodbye. But another part of you, the part you tried to keep buried deep, wanted to hold onto it. Just in case.

Remy sighed, his eyes meeting yours again, all traces of humor gone. “Look, cher,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady, “I’ll watch your back if y’watch mine. That’s all I’m askin’.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. As much as you hated to admit it, you needed him. You needed someone in this hellhole. And he needed you. Whatever this thing was between you, it wasn’t something you could ignore anymore. Not now. Not ever.

“Fine,” you muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. “But don’t expect me to get all sentimental if you die.”

Remy chuckled softly, the sound low and rough, but there was warmth in it. A familiar warmth that you’d come to rely on, even if you didn’t want to admit it. “Wouldn’t dream of it, cher,” he said, his smirk returning, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time.

You rolled your eyes, shoving past him as you headed back toward the others, ready for the fight ahead. But as you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of that token in your hand, the smooth surface of it pressing into your palm. It was a constant reminder that, for better or worse, Remy LeBeau had gotten under your skin.

And no matter how much you hated it—no matter how hard you tried to keep him at arm’s length—you couldn’t escape the fact that you didn’t want him to die. You didn’t want to lose him. Not here. Not like this.

The fight was coming, and you weren’t sure who would make it out alive. But one thing was certain: whatever happened, Remy had become more than just a distraction. He had become something you couldn’t shake, something you couldn’t ignore.

And the worst part? You weren’t sure you wanted to. The battlefield stretched out before you, a wasteland of cracked earth and swirling dust, the wind kicking up debris that stung your skin and lodged in your lungs. Across from you, Cassandra’s army of mutants stood like a wall of bodies, their faces twisted with grim determination. Behind them, shimmering like an impossible dream, was the portal—the gateway home. The one thing standing between you and whatever life you had left outside of this nightmare.

You clenched your fists, feeling the tension coil in your shoulders, the weight of the impending fight pressing down on you. You’d been in battles before—plenty of them—but this was different. This wasn’t just a fight for survival. This was the final battle. The endgame. One way or another, everything would be decided today.

The wind howled around you, carrying with it the scent of blood and dust. To your left, Wade stood unnaturally still, his usual frenetic energy dialed back to something cold and sharp. Even Deadpool knew when shit was about to get real. To your right was Remy, and of course, he wasn’t silent.  He was never silent.

“You know how long I been waitin’ for this?” Remy’s voice was a low rumble beside you, thick with that familiar Cajun accent that always seemed to carry a hint of mischief, even in the worst situations. You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t look at him. Not yet. You weren’t sure if you could, not without wanting to slug that damn smirk off his face.

He was rolling one of his cards between his fingers, the soft glow of kinetic energy pulsing through it in rhythm with your own heartbeat. “Whoo, I’m ‘boutta make a name for myself here,” he added, his voice practically vibrating with excitement.

You hated how calm he was. You hated how you weren’t. This wasn’t a bar fight or some turf war with a few low-level thugs. This was war. The stakes couldn’t be higher, and the way home—if there even was one—stood just beyond a wall of enemies you weren’t sure you could break through.

The truth was, you weren’t sure if any of you would survive this.

You finally glanced at him, casting a sidelong look at the man who somehow always seemed unfazed, even when the world was on fire around him. His smirk was still there, infuriatingly casual, his red-on-black eyes gleaming with a mix of confidence and thrill for the fight ahead.

“You’re about to make a name for yourself?” you muttered, trying to keep the bitterness out of your voice, but failing. “Pretty sure ‘Gambit dies in a blaze of glory’ isn’t the legacy you’re looking for.”

Remy chuckled, low and smooth, flicking the card in his hand, watching it glow brighter before letting the energy fizzle out. “Oh, non, cher,” he said softly, not looking at you. “Gambit don’t go down that easy. Not today.”

There was something in the way he said it that made your chest tighten. On the surface, he was still the same cocky, infuriating man you’d been dealing with since this whole nightmare started. But underneath that confidence was something darker, something colder. He wasn’t telling you the whole truth. You knew it, and he knew you knew it.

You wanted to snap at him, to tell him to stop acting like this was just another job, another day. But before you could say anything, Logan’s gravelly voice cut through the tension, as blunt and unflinching as ever.

“I don’t think you guys walk away from this,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact, like he was talking about the weather. There was no sugarcoating in his words. There never was with Logan. You all knew what this was. Either you fought and won, or you died trying. There was no in-between.

And then there was Remy, standing beside you, so damn calm, so damn sure of himself. His confidence should have been reassuring, but instead, it just pissed you off. Because deep down, you knew. He wasn’t planning on walking out of this.

You stole another glance at him, trying to read the expression on his face. He was still smirking, still playing the part of the charming rogue, but there was something behind his eyes—something resigned. He knew he wasn’t making it out of here. He had accepted it. And that realization hit you like a punch to the gut.

All this time, you’d been so focused on surviving, on getting home, that you hadn’t stopped to think about what it meant for him. Remy didn’t have a life waiting for him outside of this. He didn’t have friends or family wondering where he was. He didn’t have anyone. Not anymore. The Void had taken everything from him—his home, his purpose, his future. And now, he was willing to give up the only thing he had left: his life.

But you? You still had something worth fighting for. You still had people waiting for you, a life waiting for you. And Remy… Remy was going to make sure you got back to it. Even if it meant he wouldn’t.

“You just make sure people remember what happened here today,” Remy said, his voice quieter now, more serious. “When you get out of here, you have a drink for me, yeah?”

When.  Not if. You swallowed hard, your throat tight. “You’re not dying here, Remy,” you said, your voice more forceful than you meant it to be. “You’re not pulling some heroic bullshit.”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he turned to you, and for the first time in as long as you could remember, there was no smirk, no bravado. Just Remy. His eyes were dark, serious, and there was something in his gaze that made your heart twist painfully.

“Y’got a whole life waitin’ for you on the other side of that portal,” he said softly, his voice steady but filled with a kind of finality that made your blood run cold. “Friends. Family. People who need you.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off before you could get a word out.

“Me? I got nothin’, cher,” he continued, his eyes never leaving yours. “Ain’t nothin’ left for me out there. But you… you got everythin’. And I’m gonna make sure you get back to it.”

The sincerity in his voice, the quiet determination—it shattered something inside you. You wanted to tell him he was wrong, that he did have something left, that he had you, but the words caught in your throat. Because you knew, deep down, that he had already made up his mind.

Remy had accepted that this was the end for him. But his goal, his only goal, was to make sure you made it home. To make sure you survived. Because he believed in you. He believed in your future, even if he didn’t believe in his own.

You clenched your fists, trying to keep the emotion from spilling over, trying to keep your voice steady. “You don’t get to make that decision for me,” you said, your tone sharp, though it was more to keep yourself from breaking than anything else.

Remy smiled then, but it was a sad smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Ain’t no decision to make, cher. I’m just doin’ what I have to.”

The weight of his words settled over you, heavier than the air, heavier than the battlefield stretched out before you. He wasn’t trying to be a hero. He wasn’t asking for praise or recognition. He was just doing what he thought was right. And that scared the hell out of you.

“Remy—” you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off again.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Just promise me you’ll get home. That’s all I want.”

You stared at him, feeling a knot tighten in your chest. You wanted to scream at him, to tell him to stop talking like this was the end, to tell him that you wouldn’t leave him behind. But you couldn’t. Because the truth was, you weren’t sure you had a choice.

The wind howled around you, and the sounds of battle began to rise in the distance, but for a moment, it was like everything had fallen away. Just you and Remy, standing on the edge of the fight, staring down the impossible.

You nodded, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Fine. But you better not make me drink alone.”

Remy chuckled softly, and for a brief moment, the old smirk returned. “Wouldn’t dream of it, cher.”

And then, without another word, he turned toward the battlefield, his cards flickering to life in his hands, the kinetic energy crackling through the air. The fight was coming, and you both knew what had to be done.

But as you stared at his back, that small, carved token still clenched in your hand, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were losing something far more important than a battle.

You were losing him.

And you weren’t sure you could live with that.

You felt Remy’s hand brush against yours, his fingers lingering for just a moment before he pulled away. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but in that brief contact, something shifted inside you. It grounded you, anchored you to the present, reminding you that despite everything—despite the chaos, the fear, the uncertainty—you weren’t alone in this. Not entirely.

You didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. Something was happening between you. Something that terrified you as much as it pulled you in. It was that unspoken connection, the kind that lingered just beneath the surface, simmering between stolen glances and moments like this.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. You couldn’t afford to think about whatever this was, not with a battlefield stretched out before you and an army of enemies charging forward. Now was the time to fight. To survive.

“I’ll watch your back,” you muttered, your voice low, almost lost to the rumble of the earth beneath your feet. You cast him a quick glance out of the corner of your eye, the words feeling like a promise you weren’t sure you could keep. “But don’t expect me to hold your hand.”

Remy chuckled softly, but this time there was a warmth to it, something softer, something almost grateful. That smirk was still there, but it was tempered by something more genuine.

Your grip tightened around your weapon, knuckles white as adrenaline surged through your veins. The fear was there too, of course. It always was, lurking in the back of your mind. But this time, it felt different. It wasn’t paralyzing. It was… clarifying. You were scared, but there was a strange sense of focus that came with it, a razor-sharp awareness of what you had to do. You were going to fight like hell. You were going to give every last piece of yourself to this battle, because that was the only way any of you were getting out alive.

And maybe—just maybe—you’d make it out after all.

But if you didn’t?

At least you wouldn’t be going down alone.

You stole a glance at Remy again, this time allowing yourself to really look at him. His eyes were fixed ahead, scanning the battlefield, but there was a calmness to him that you envied. He seemed perfectly at ease, even with the odds stacked against you. That cocky grin, the one that usually grated on your nerves, was still there, but now it felt like a lifeline. As if his confidence could somehow carry you both through this.

You didn’t know how he did it—how he managed to stay so calm when everything was on the line. Maybe it was just who he was, or maybe it was because he had already accepted something you were still struggling to grasp.

He didn’t expect to make it out of here.

You could see it in the way he moved, in the way he spoke. He wasn’t fighting to survive. He was fighting for you. To make sure you got out. He had nothing left outside of this, no life to return to once the Void spat you all back into whatever reality waited on the other side. But you? You had a whole world waiting for you. Friends. Family. People who would miss you if you didn’t make it back.

And Remy—damn him—he was preparing to make sure you did, even if it cost him his life.

The thought twisted something inside you, a knot forming in your chest that tightened with every passing second. You didn’t want him to sacrifice himself. You didn’t want to lose him, not after everything you’d been through together. But you could see it in his eyes, in the way his fingers flexed around the cards he held, the way the energy crackled faintly at his fingertips. He had already made his peace with it. He was ready to die here, if that’s what it took.

And you hated him for it.

But you also couldn’t help but feel something else—something raw, something deep that you didn’t have the time or the courage to name. It was fear, yes, but not for yourself. It was the thought of losing him that terrified you more than the thought of your own death. Because for all the walls you’d tried to build around yourself, for all the distance you’d tried to keep, Remy had found a way in. He had gotten under your skin, and now the idea of a world without him in it was suddenly unbearable.

You clenched your jaw, steeling yourself against the emotions threatening to bubble to the surface. Now wasn’t the time for this. Now was the time to fight.

The roar of Cassandra’s forces grew louder, and you could see them now—mutants of all shapes and sizes, some familiar, others grotesque and twisted by whatever dark experiments she had been running in her lair. They moved like a single entity, a wave of destruction hurtling toward you, and the ground shook with the force of their charge.

“Here they come,” Logan growled, his claws extending with a metallic snikt as he moved into a crouch, ready to tear into whatever came his way.

Wade, his usual chatter silenced for once, cracked his neck and flexed his fingers, twin katanas gleaming in the dim light. Even Deadpool, the king of chaos, seemed focused, his usual madness replaced with a deadly precision.

You took a deep breath, your weapon steady in your hands. This was it. The final stand. You weren’t sure if you were ready, but it didn’t matter. The fight was here, and there was no turning back.

Remy shifted beside you, his voice low as he spoke, barely audible over the approaching onslaught. “Whatever happens, cher, y’keep movin’. Don’t stop. Don’t look back.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him that you weren’t leaving him behind. But the words caught in your throat, because deep down, you knew what he meant. You knew what he was asking you to do.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” you muttered, your voice rough with emotion you couldn’t suppress. “I’m not dragging your ass out of here if you get yourself killed.”

He smiled, that damn smile that you had come to rely on more than you wanted to admit. “Wouldn’t ask you to do no such thing.”

The mutants were close now, their snarls and battle cries filling the air as they surged forward. You tightened your grip on your weapon, every muscle in your body tensing in preparation for the fight of your life.

<><><><><><> The battle raged around you, wild and chaotic, but somehow, in the eye of the storm, you and Remy moved like you’d been doing this for years. It didn’t make sense. You’d only met him days ago, thrown into this insane mission with no time to adjust, no time to learn each other’s rhythms. And yet, here you were—fighting side by side like you’d been doing it your whole lives.

There was no hesitation. No second-guessing. Every move you made seemed to align perfectly with his. When he swung his bo staff in a wide arc, you were already ducking beneath it, taking out the legs of a mutant charging toward him. When you threw a punch, he was right there, using the momentum of your attack to spin and deliver a charged card toward another group of enemies. It was an unspoken understanding, an instinct, like your bodies just knew how to work together.

You didn’t need to talk. There was no time for words anyway. But you didn’t need them. Every glance, every shift in stance, communicated everything you needed to know. When Remy saw an opening, you were already moving to cover it. When you took down an enemy, he was already preparing for the next. It was like your instincts were perfectly tuned to complement each other, like two sides of the same coin.

A massive mutant lunged at you, and before you could react, Remy was there. With a quick flick of his wrist, he sent a charged card flying straight at the attacker’s chest. The explosion knocked the mutant back, and without missing a beat, you stepped forward, grabbing another by the throat and slamming him into the ground with your enhanced strength. The impact shook the ground beneath you, and Remy flashed you a quick grin.

The battle wore on, the two of you cutting through Cassandra’s forces as if you were made for this. But then, you started to feel it—fatigue. It was creeping in, despite your strength, despite the adrenaline. And you could see it in Remy too, the way his movements were just a fraction slower, the way his breathing had started to quicken.

Remy noticed it too. He glanced at you, his sharp eyes scanning the battlefield, then darted toward you, grabbing your arm. “It’s time to go,” he said, his voice urgent but steady. He nodded toward the steps leading up to Cassandra’s lair, where Logan and Wade were waiting, keeping the path clear. “You get up those damn steps, cher. Now.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. “What about you?”

“I’ll hold ‘em off,” he said, already turning back toward the approaching mutants. His fingers twitched, and a handful of charged cards appeared between them, glowing with purple energy. “Just get home.”

You wanted to protest, to tell him that you weren’t leaving but you couldn’t. Hey,” he said, his voice low but urgent. “I got you covered, cher. You just get yourself home.” He gave you a small, reassuring smile, but there was something heavy behind it—something that made your chest tighten. “Don’t worry ‘bout me. I’ll take care of this.” Your heart clenched in your chest, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. He was telling you to leave—telling you to go without him. But every instinct in your body was screaming at you to stay. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to walk away and leave him to fight alone. The thought of it made your stomach twist, a cold dread settling in your bones.

No.

Not after everything. Not after the way things had shifted between you over the last few days, the way this connection had formed—slowly at first, almost imperceptibly, but now so strong that it was impossible to ignore. You couldn’t leave him. Not like this.

“No,” you started, shaking your head, your voice barely audible over the sounds of battle. “I’m not leaving you behind, Remy. We can—”

“Non,” he cut you off, his hand tightening slightly on your arm, grounding you. His voice was gentle, but firm. “You have to go. The portal’s waitin’. You stay here, and none of us make it out, cher. I’ll hold ‘em off. You just make sure you get through dat portal. Get yourself home.”

His words were like a knife twisting in your gut. Every fiber of your being wanted to stay with him, to fight beside him until the end. But you knew, deep down, that he was right. If you didn’t go now, you wouldn’t get another chance. And this whole mission—everything you’d fought for—would be for nothing. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier.

Your body was screaming at you to stay, to be with him. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind racing with every possible reason to fight by his side just a little longer. But your feet felt like they were stuck in place, frozen in that horrible moment of indecision. You didn’t want to leave him. You couldn’t leave him.

It hadn’t started like this. It hadn’t started with this painful, gut-wrenching pull to stay by his side at all costs. When you first met him, all you’d seen was the cocky grin, the casual swagger of someone who didn’t take anything seriously. He had been infuriating, reckless, too damn sure of himself for someone thrown into a life-or-death situation. You had tried to keep your distance, tried to focus on the mission, on survival. But Remy had a way of getting under your skin, of making it hard to ignore him, no matter how hard you tried.

You couldn’t pinpoint when the feelings had started to change, when the walls you’d built between the two of you had started to crumble. Maybe it was the night you’d both nearly been taken down by Cassandra’s forces, huddled behind the wreckage of a vehicle, breathing hard and bleeding, but laughing anyway because for a moment, against all odds, you were still alive. Maybe it was the way he’d reached out to steady you, his hand warm and solid against your skin, his eyes holding yours just a second longer than necessary.

Or maybe it was something deeper, something that had been building all along. A connection that went beyond words, beyond glances, beyond the battlefield. Something neither of you had asked for, but that had grown between you anyway, slow and steady, until you couldn’t deny it any longer.

But now, in this moment, that connection felt like it was being torn apart.

Before you could say anything else, Logan’s gruff voice cut through the chaos, sharp and urgent. “It’s now or never!” he shouted from the steps leading up to Cassandra’s lair. “We gotta go, now!” His eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the urgency in them. He wasn’t asking. He was telling you—if you didn’t leave now, you’d never make it home.

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, torn between the need to survive and the desperate pull to stay with Remy. You hesitated, watching him for a moment longer, your eyes searching his face for something—anything—that would make this easier. But there was no easy answer. There never was.

Remy met your gaze, his eyes softening for just a second, and in that moment, something passed between you. An understanding. He gave you a small nod, a silent acknowledgment that this was it—this was the last time the two of you would see each other. And even if neither of you said it out loud, you both knew what it meant.

It felt like your heart was being torn in two, but there was no time left. You had to go. You had to make it through that portal. And he? He was making sure you had the chance to do it.

“I’ll be right behind you,” Remy said, his voice calm, but there was something in his tone that told you he didn’t believe it. He was saying it for your sake, to make the choice easier. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, cher. Just get home.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tight, every part of you wanting to argue, to stay, to fight beside him. But you nodded, knowing you didn’t have a choice. Logan was right. It was now or never.

Reluctantly, you turned and started toward the steps, where Wade and Logan were waiting. The sounds of battle faded behind you, but your mind was still with Remy, your heart aching with every step you took away from him.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you couldn’t help yourself. You turned back, just for a second, just to see him one last time.

There he was, standing in the middle of the battlefield, his bo staff spinning, his charged cards lighting up the sky with their brilliant purple glow. He fought with the same reckless confidence, the same fluid grace that had drawn you to him in the first place. But now, there was something more—something final in the way he moved. He wasn’t fighting to survive anymore. He was fighting to give you the chance to make it out.

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest as you watched him, your body screaming at you to run back to him, to stay with him. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t.

And then, just before you turned away, he looked up, meeting your eyes across the battlefield. For a moment, everything else faded—the sounds of battle, the weight of the mission, the urgency of your escape. It was just you and him. One last look. One last connection.

He gave you that damn cocky grin, the one that always seemed to say he had everything under control, even when you knew he didn’t. And then he nodded, a silent promise, a final goodbye.

Wade grabbed your arm, pulling you toward the portal, his voice distant in your ears. “Come on. It’s time.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and turned away from Remy, your heart heavy. You reached the top of the stairs, prepared to face Cassandra. The last battle to fight before you got to go home.

And that was the last time you saw him.

At least… until now.

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

moon song - m. murdock

a/n: oh boy. uh. thanks for all the love on my last fic, so i decided to give you an incredibly angsty fic. this one is for all my male readers but honestly i want everyone to read it so. as always, reblogs, feedback and comments are always appreciated! warnings: internalized homophobia, cursing, infidelity, angst, hurt/no comfort, casual homophobia (teasing not anything insane) catholic guilt and symbolism, bisexual karen page, i'm not an elektra anti, making out, alcohol to cope, reader has a lot of coming out moments word count: 3.4k summary: you hate that elektra and matt are getting married. will you convince him not to go through with it? can you? pairing: matt murdock x male!reader now playing: moon song - phoebe bridgers "and if i could give you the moon/i would give you the moon/you are sick/ and you're married/and you might be dying/but you're holding me like water in your hands"

You’re in Josie’s when they realize. It’s like any other night, Foggy to your left, Karen to your right, as you watch Matt and Elektra play pool together. You take another swig of your whiskey, and tap your fingers on the glass, desperately attempting to try and listen to what Karen and Foggy were laughing about.

Two more weeks. That’s all you have to do.

In two weeks, Matt and Elektra will be married, and that’ll be that. They’ll live forever in their New York penthouse, fighting criminals and having beautiful children. That is their fate, and you’ll give your best man speech at their wedding.

All will be well, and you can bury your feelings deep down under alcohol and other women. No one will ever know what you really think of the happy couple.

You’re happy when Matt beats her at pool and they head back over to your table, where they absolutely hang over each other.

“We’re gonna head out.” Elektra says, a slightly drunken smile on her face. Matt hums and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Meeting with the florist tomorrow.” Matt tells you all.

“I’m going to grab another drink,” You announce, and look at them. “One for the road?” Matt smiles at you, and for a moment, you think he must know.

“I’ll come grab one with you.” He turns to Elektra to ask if she wants one, but she shakes her head.

“I have to finish this one.”

So, you and Matt head over to the bar, his hand on your arm. You wonder if he knows.

“You seem distracted,” he tells you, and you figure you’re caught.

“Just working on my best man speech. It’s all up here.” You tap your forehead. You order two shots for the pair of you and take them quickly with your best friend. “Getting excited?”

“Yeah, it’s just kind of crazy. I’m nervous, is all.. And she seems to be totally fine with the whole thing.”

You bite back a bitter comment about both of their commitment issues.

“I think she’s just as nervous as you are.”

“I can hear heartbeats. Trust me, she’s not.”

“But you’re in love with her, right?”

If you weren’t so drunk, maybe you would catch his moment of hesitation.

“Yeah.”

“Then what more do you need?”

“You’d marry someone just because you’re in love with her? That’s all you need?”

Not just someone. You know who you’d marry.

“That’s all I need, Matty. You think too much. Have another shot.” He laughs at this and pats your shoulder.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

“Says you, I’m a bachelor, still.”

“So am I—For the next two weeks.”

“And yet,” a voice says behind you, “You’re still accounted for.” Elektra says, approaching the pair of you at the bar.

You both turn to her. You’re drunk enough so you don’t tense.

She hands Matt his jacket, and they link arms. Jealousy fills your mouth, and it tastes like venom.

“Elektra.” You smile and nod to her.

She says your name before adding, “Have a goodnight.”

“Goodnight.. Get home safe, Matt.” You say, smiling at them as they leave.

You turn back to the bar, where your smile falters. You take a seat, resting your head in your hands. You’re not drunk. That’s not what this is. When you look up, Josie is there and hands you another whiskey on ice and sends you this knowing wink.

Your face burns, and you nurse your drink. What did she know about your life? You only spent every Friday and sometimes Saturdays here. You sit there in your pity for a while, thinking about it all. You’ll plan a vacation for when they get home from their honeymoon. You’ll fuck someone you’ll never see again and by the time you get back home, you’ll be over it.

You’ll be the godfather to their first child; Matt will be the best man at your own wedding. You’ll live the rest of your life with this deep dark secret that no one, not even your best friend, will ever know.

Except, you forget that Karen and Foggy are in the bar too. They slide into the seats next to you and just look at you for a while.

“I might be tipsy, and I might not have super senses, but I can tell you’re looking at me. What is it?” You finally pick your head up and look at them.

“I figured it out.” Karen says.

You’re too drunk for this.

“Figured what out, Miss Page?” You ask.

“Me too,” Foggy adds. “And to think, you almost had us.”

“What?”

“The bachelor life. The one-night stands. The constant rotating door of girlfriends because you can’t have the one you actually want.” She continues.

You feel sick. How did they know?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You say, as neutrally as possible but it comes out defensive.

Then Foggy says it.

“You’re in love with Elektra.”

And you stop. They think they have you. Then, you start laughing. Like a crazy person, like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. God, it’s so dumb. You’re just that good at hiding it.

“Nice try, guys.”

“We saw the way you were looking at her while they were playing pool! That’s why you’ve been acting so weird since they got engaged.” Foggy reasons. You know what it looks like.

You took another sip.

“That’s because I’m not in love with her,” Elektra is intelligent, beautiful, and funny. Anyone would be lucky to have her, you’re sure. But you hate that she’s happy for another reason. “It’s because I’m in love with Matt.”

• • •

You’re nineteen years old. You work at a pizza place between semesters, with Matt often coming to visit you. You’re best friends, and he likes to come in, grab a slice and a diet coke, have you take your break with him, and then leave.

One day, he’s late to do this routine and an older coworker says to you, “Where’s your boyfriend?”

Your face burns.

“He’s not my boyfriend, asshole! I’m not gay, I wouldn’t ever dream of it!” You had said, a story you’ve told others and yourself so many times that it doesn’t feel like a lie anymore.

Matt walks in a few minutes later.

The truth is, if you’re honest with yourself, you’ve had feelings for Matt for a long time. Ever since you met him at church one Sunday, you’ve felt this need to be closer to him, to be with him all the time.

You knew what it was then, just like you know now. And just like now, you hated yourself for it.

But it got worse over the years, in a way that you just couldn’t push down like you had done for so many other people.

You became a nurse and when Matt became Daredevil, he used this fact to his advantage. And for a long time before this, you were able to keep how you felt about him at bay. You were able to just be his best friend, and nothing more.

But he crawled into your window one night, drunk on pain and whimpered as he asked you to stitch him up. By the time you were done, he laid there half naked on your couch, and your hands were covered in his blood.

You felt guilty for wanting him while he lay there, wounded. But in another way, you felt baptized, relieved that you were allowing yourself to accept a truth that you had denied for so many years.

And it got worse from there.

After admitting to yourself that you had feelings for him, it became prevalent that there was no going back.

You stopped by the office for lunch this one time and you walked into his office to see him lounging casually at his desk, tie half undone, sleeves rolled up, and hair slightly disheveled. You scolded yourself for being so into him.

And then he got back together with Elektra.

For a while, you figured this was a good thing. A great thing, even. Matt would date Elektra and you could move on, maybe admit to yourself that you liked guys and start dating more of them.

And it worked, for a little bit. It was easier to not love him when he was around Elektra because of how obviously happy he was with her.

Then they got engaged.

You were so angry at yourself for letting it happen, so angry at yourself for not saying anything, angry at him for not noticing, angry at him for not wanting you.

So, you started to date other girls.

And this is how you lived for so long, dating women you didn’t like in favor of burying the immense love you felt for your best friend. Until last week, when you broke up with your girlfriend because you just couldn’t take it anymore.

There would be no telling Matt, sure, but there would be no telling anyone how in love with him you were, there would just be you, coming out and dating men that eased the longing for him.

Until that night at the bar, when Foggy and Karen catch you in this vulnerable state.

They walk you home from the bar that night, as you slip into a drunker and drunker mind. You won’t remember anything after that confession in the morning.

Karen hands you your pajamas and a glass of water. She helps you into bed and holds you as you cry.

“Will he ever know how much I love him?” You ask, drunk and in a different pain Matt was in that night you stitched him up.

Karen shushes you gently and tells you she’ll call you in the morning.

You don’t remember saying that in the morning. All you know is that you’ve made an immeasurably stupid mistake by telling them.

• • •

On Monday, you have off because you worked a 12-hour shift the night before.

Foggy sends you a text asking you to bring them dinner while they work on some cases.

You oblige, ready to push down your feelings until the next time you’re drunk.

But when you get there, you don’t see Matt. You assume he’s in another room, grabbing coffee. You hold up their dinner.

“Hey guys, I brought Chinese.” You tell them, sitting at the table after handing them the bag. You lean back in your seat, keeping your cool.

“Why didn’t you tell us you’re in love with Matt?”

You snap back up.

“I’m sorry, can you be a little more discrete, considering the man has super hearing?!”

Karen rolls her eyes.

“He’s not here. He left a little while ago to go pick up his tux.”

Your jaw clenches, jealousy sewing the hinges shut.

“I didn’t even realize you were into guys.”  Foggy says.

“That was intentional. I never really.. developed feelings for any other guys. Matt is just..” You look down at the chopsticks you’ve been twirling in your fingers. “I just see him and there’s nothing I want more than to just have him, nothing more than to just beg him to want me.”

Karen and Foggy both know the feeling.

Because it’s no secret that Matt is this alluring force of nature especially when it comes to his charisma and determination. Everyone either wants him or wants to be him, and its why Elektra is so perfect for him. They’re similar people.

And who are you? Some nurse who can’t even admit when he’s got it bad for his friend.

“You should tell him before the wedding.”

You scoff at the idea.

“And ruin our friendship? Ruin his wedding day? I’d rather see him happy and oblivious than lose him completely.”

But Karen and Foggy know you well and can see how this is starting to wear on you. You’re losing yourself grieving something that could never have been.  

“You owe it to him and to yourself.”

“I don’t. I know you guys’ care, and I appreciate it. But there isn’t anything to do. Matt and Elektra are going to get married because they love each other and that’ll be that.” You tell them. “Matt won’t ever know how I feel, and I’ve made peace with that. He wouldn’t want me and I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“But how do you know—” Karen starts, but you cut her off.

“Matt’s never expressed any interest in men, and to my knowledge he’s never been with any.”

Then, Foggy says something that haunts you.

“That’s what we thought about you before Friday.”

And it rattles within you, all throughout your body and your brain.

It stays with you throughout the night, and into the next day.

You can’t get it out of your head.

Maybe you could tell him. Just tell him and add on if he doesn’t feel the same, to forget you ever said anything.

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself hope.

You lay in bed that night and fall asleep thinking about it. About if he’ll say yes, if he’ll kiss you like you wanted him to.

You spend days with this thought, with it rattling around. One day you wake up and are greeted by your calendar and see that the wedding is the next day.

You’re sick with nausea at the thought and realize how horrible of an idea it would be to tell him.

You pretty much spend all day, sick, staring at your suit and thinking about how horrible it would be to watch Matt get married to someone who isn’t you. In the church where you met. Not even knowing how much you want him.

You contemplate your options.

You could go to Elektra, beg her to call off the wedding and let you have him.

You could fake being sick, leave the country and block his number.

You could tell Matt the truth.

You opt to call Karen.

“I don’t know what to do.” You say, this vulnerability in your voice that you wouldn’t show normally.

“Oh..” She says your name softly. “Do you love him?” She asks.

“Karen..”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. You know I do.”

“Then tell him that.”

“What if he wants nothing to do with that?”

“Then at least you know.”

And then you ask her the real question that terrifies you.

“What if he does?”

“What?”

“What if he wants me like I want him? What do I do then?”

She wants to ask you, who cares? If Matt wants you just as desperately as you want him, what matters after that? But she felt this way towards Matt Murdock once, so she knows how horrible it is. And she’s fallen in love with women she can’t have before, so she understands.

“Then let yourself be happy.” Is her answer.

• • •

The day of the wedding comes.

You think you might be more nervous than either of them.

You sit with Foggy and Matt in the basement of the church, sipping a whiskey. Matt has his scotch, and Foggy has his rum. The lot of you have rather distinguished tastes.

Matt looks so fucking good. Your heart races. Foggy sees your nervous look and finishes his drink, clearing his throat.

“I’m gonna go check in with Marci and see how everything’s going so far. We have to be up there in ten.” He reminds you. He turns and leaves.

You’re with Matt, alone in your feelings. He’s fixing his cuffs and tilts his head towards you.

“Why is your heart racing?” He grins. “I’m the one getting married.” You say nothing. You take another sip of your drink.

“You’re reading it all wrong.” You tell him. And that isn’t a lie. You’re on the verge of saying it.

“Whatever,” He chuckles. “Help me with my bowtie, please?” He hands you the untied bowtie and you take it. You take it and step towards him.

Your hands are shaking as you wrap the bowtie around his neck and tie it, with this gentleness reserved for only those who truly know you. You can feel his breath against your skin. It’s enough to make you lose your mind. Your fingers fumble with his bowtie, and when you’re done, you straighten it out a bit. He looks really good. He’s yet to close his suit jacket and put on his glasses, but he will soon.

“Matt..” You say softly. “You know I feel about you, right?”

He pauses.

“You’re my best friend.” He hums. “Of course, I do.”

Your hands rest on his shoulders. Your fingers twitch.

“No, It’s more than that.” You tell him. “I love yo—” You’re unable to finish your confession.

Because Matt is kissing you, his hands on your sides, and pushing you against the church basement wall. You melt into the kiss, your hands going up to cup his chin. You feel this swell inside of you, like your prayers have been answered.

Kissing this man you love; you’ve never felt closer to God.

He deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue between your lips and pressing his body against yours, ruining your perfectly unwrinkled suit.

He kisses you for a few moments more.

Then, he pulls away, but you bring him back for another one by his collar, and he happily obliges. Your hand goes up to the nape of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair. Then, he pulls away again.

“That was…”

He stands breathless before you.

“I know.” He finishes.

“What happens now?”

He has this confused look on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what do we do next?” To you, it’s so obvious. He should go find Elektra, call everything off, figure out what it would look like to be in a relationship with you. He should say I love you back.

“I’m going to go upstairs and get married.” He says, like it should be the obvious answer.

“What? But you just—”

“I know what I did, but… I can’t…”

“You can’t? You just did.” You defend.

He grabs his glasses where he set them on the coffee table earlier.

“I’m sorry, but we just.. We can’t.”

“No! Not we, there is no we, right now, You can’t! I have been waiting for that for years and you kiss me like that, and you decide you can’t?” You spit out.

He nods.

“You’re right.” For a moment, you live in a world where you’ve convinced him. “There is no we.” He says and turns to the door to leave. You follow him, and before he can open the door, you’re grabbing him, turning him around. Your lips are against his as if to beg him to change his mind. He lets you think you’ve convinced him.

When he pulls away from the kiss, you whisper it out.

“I love you.” You say. “Please, don’t…”

He wants you to ask him not to get married. You won’t. He’d say no anyways.

He steps away from you, buttons up his suit jacket, fixes his bowtie and puts on his glasses.

“Come on, we have to go.” He tells you. He turns and steps out, grabbing his cane on the way.

He leaves you longing for more.

He might not ever give it to you, you realize.

The ceremony is beautiful, and these two will be happy together. It kills you. You watch your best friend get married after kissing him, and something in you is breaking all the while. You were wrong.  You should have told him earlier, you should have gotten over your fears, you should have kissed him so long ago.

You book a flight to the Bahamas for two weeks and take off work or as much time as you can. You just can’t watch the happy newlyweds. It’ll break you even more than it already is.

But at least you and Matt are still friends, right? That’s what this was all about? Keeping him in your life, even if it meant not having him in the way you wanted? You’re willing to give up your happiness if it means he’ll stay in your life.

You’re frustrated, too, especially because the kiss did nothing to deter your attraction, it just makes you want him in such a way that makes you sick.

You’re in love with Matt Murdock and he knows it.

It’s a shame his wife doesn’t.

[juliaswickcrs]

oops another oc :: elektra in "nowhere fast" ( gotg - gotg vol 3 )

Elektra bears a past lost to history.  Her entire life she's dreamt of the stars, wishing to fly among them like the comets and meteors she saw from the barren fields of South Dakota. But like most of the galaxy, she has found herself among thieves and criminals and those too cruel to deserve either title. Forced to work off a debt to the Kree Empire, Elektra bides her time, looking for any and all possible solutions. When Ronan the Accuser demands she accompany a Kree taskforce to Morag in search of a valuable artifact simply known as "The Orb," Elektra seizes her opportunity and runs, stealing away on a ravager ship with the man who'd stolen the artifact. But her newfound freedom throws her into something much more dangerous. Surrounded by a rag-tag group of misfits, Elektra finds herself in the middle of Titans, wars, and something much bigger than herself.

AO3 // WP

taglist: @bisexualterror @foxesandmagic @iron-parkr @camiemendess @a-song-of-quill-and-feather

@arrthurpendragon @starcrossedjedis @drbobbimorse @kingsmakers @noratilney

@stanshollaand @astarionbae @darth-caillic @mystic-scripture @aliverse

@misshiraethsworld @asirensrage @eddiemunscns

@princessmadelines @impales @waterloou @thatmagickjuju

MARVEL TAGLIST: @notxjustxstories @themaradwrites

[courtforshort15]

Not the Same

Pairing: Matt Murdock x GNReader

Word Count: 2900ish

Summary: You don't like her, this woman who enters his life just as suddenly, just as savagely as she leaves it. You know Matt is deserving of so much more than she gives him, and it breaks your heart.

Warnings: none really. Slight angst with a happy ending.

Masterlist

You don't like her.

In fact, you hate her.

You know hate is a strong word; one reserved for the most vile of people, the ones who hurt and maim and destroy innocent, unsuspecting lives. Ones who take take take, without giving anything in return.

But honestly, hate is exactly what you feel for her, and it takes years for the feeling to go away.

It takes years for the curse she leaves behind to slowly begin healing. She is a glacier; cold and stubborn and incapable of sustaining life in the cracks and crevices between sheets of ice. Years go by before things unfreeze, though the process is slow even then.

It's not the fact that she makes Matt happy, or the fact that Matt is so clearly in love with her, as much as it pains you to admit, loathing the way it's her and not you tucked into his side and under his arm. It's the fact that she hones in on every one of his vulnerabilities, every one of his insecurities, and exploits them. You struggle watching the two of them together, aching with the thought that Matt deserves love and happiness and good things.

Because Elektra, despite her designer clothes and polished accent and sharp, all-knowing smile, isn't a good thing.

You don't hate her in the beginning. You certainly aren't a fan, but given that you've never seen Matt smile so much, you force yourself to at least give her a half-hearted chance. You give her several chances, if you're being honest. Several chances to prove she's not as awful as she seems to be at first sight, several chances to prove how much she loves him, several chances to be a positive thing in his life.

But she's doesn't take those chances, doesn't even acknowledge them, and you hate her for it.

You find yourself wishing, praying for her to be better than she is. You need her to be better than she is. At least then Matt would be with someone who almost deserves him, someone who is almost as good as him. Loving this man from afar rips your heart to shreds, nothing but blood and scraps of muscle held loosely in your hand, but at least you would be able to rest easier if you knew that someone was taking care of and loving him the way that he needs.

Instead, you are left with the knowledge that she is not worthy of him, and you hate her for taking this man's heart, knowing he could have the world if he asked for it. You don't know Elektra well, but you've observed her enough that you know she would never be willing to give it to him.

But you would. 

You’d give him every damn corner of the universe, every strategically arranged atom that could make up anything he could ever want, and you’d kneel at his feet while placing it into his gentle hands.

She is selfish, and she yanks him along for this ride of hers, uncaring of any sort of trouble she could lead him into as she amuses herself. He follows her so willingly, to your ever-present misery, ready to do her bidding for whatever she needs. He hardly lets her lift a finger, carrying all the weight of the relationship on his shoulders, even while he refuses to acknowledge how she so clearly dances ahead of him, as if she’s already aware that she’s going to leave him behind.

You watch in confusion as Matt changes almost immediately, almost overnight, and he doesn't change for the better. The man sitting next to you in class is someone you don’t recognize, someone who is distant and so wrapped up in this woman that he becomes unaware of everyone else who considers him one of their own. He’s a far cry from the man who holds your hand through panic attacks or shares his french fries with you after you swear you aren’t hungry.

Matt has always been effortlessly charming, wide smile beautiful and enticing, dark eyes lit up in humor when you make a stipid comment or when you trip over your own two feet. But now he has shifted into something aloof and disinterested, and the flicker of annoyance that crosses over his face when you ask if he wants to grab coffee between classes absolutely cuts you to the bone.

The people in his life are so suddenly forced to go on without him, absolutely reeling with the realization that Matt could just drop them so easily, so unconcernedly.

(“Don’t push us out. That’s not fair.”

“But she loves me.”

“We love you, too, Matt.”

“It’s not the same.”)

It…kills you. It’s like you’re a used toy placed in a box and shoved away, something meant to provide vague memories years down the line.

You've been in relationships before, so you understand the giddiness of new love. You understand how exciting and how breathtaking and how wonderful it is to find someone who might fit into your life so perfectly. You understand how focus shifts to this new person as you devote yourself to learning as much about them as possible, focusing in awe and wonder as you soak up every single cell that makes up this person you’ve fallen in love with.

But this isn't that.

Years of friendship has given you insight to the inner workings of one Matthew Murdock, so you can see that he is completely, all caution to the wind, in love with her. And you can grudgingly admit that you see slivers of affection on Elektra's face when she looks at him. But it's more than that.

It's obsession.

Matt spends all of his time with her now, every spare moment, and she acts if she is the sole gate-keeper of his time. She is vicious, territorial, and uneasy to work with, demanding that every little second he has to be spent in her presence. He starts missing classes, starts skipping your weekly study dates, stops showing up at his part-time job at the disabilities resource center.

If it was just those things that had changed, you'd probably just call him out on his shit, knowing how much school has always meant to him and not wanting to see him quit. But ultimately you know it's his choice, and if he wants to ruin his grades and chances of success, that's on him.

And if it was just his friendship with you that was affected, you might have let it go. He’s still your friend, even if it doesn’t feel like right now, and you’re acutely aware of the fact that you'd forgive this man for anything and everything. It might break your heart in the process, but you know that you'll spend the rest of your life trying to make him happy, even if it's from the sidelines as he loves and promises himself to someone else.

You somehow manage to scramble your broken pieces into your clumsy hands from where they currently sit at his doorstep, desparate to get to a place where your hatred for this woman does not batter against all the corners in your mind. And even as you mourn for the man that had once been so kind and soft with you, your heart breaks further, sadly aware that he's hurting Foggy, too, and that it's not something you can easily push aside.

Foggy is the kindest person you've ever met. Made of glee and dad jokes and sunshine in a bottle, and he definitely doesn't deserve the way he's being treated. Your fingers twitch at your sides, wanting nothing more than to hit him with one of his heavy textbooks and tell him to snap out of it, and you're absolutely positive that Foggy would be second in line.

You hate Elektra. Not because Matt loves her, but because she's pushed aside everyone else Matt loves...and he's let her.

When she abruptly leaves, cutting herself so completely out of Matt's life with rusty shears meant to hurt and maim and destroy, it's you and Foggy who help put him back together. Even with as much pain as he's caused, as many tears you’ve shed, you fight tooth and nail for him in his depression, even while he fails to fight for himself.

(“She left me.”

“We’re still here, Matt.”

“It’s not the same.”)

It's years before you learn how Elektra had managed to get her claws into him so deeply, cutting down to the bone and staying there, regardless of any pain it may have caused him on their way down underneath his skin. She had loved him in her own way, not because of all the good she was able to see in him, but because she had seen and welcomed and matched the darkness in him.

Matt is the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, he reveals to you one day. And even while you seethe and scream and cry at him, you get it now. He is a man that you know has so much light in him, the kind of light that is white and blinding and warm, yet he sees himself as a man doomed to only live in a world as black as the nothingness that is his lack of sight.

He doesn't need to tell you in order for you to understand the appeal of Elektra and the way she had captivated him, though now he admits that he hadn’t been drawn to her like a moth to a flame, but rather like a stray cat to a wealthy home. He doesn't need to tell you how desperate he'd been for someone to see the darker side of him, how desperate he'd been for someone to see that side of him and love him for it.

At some point he begins to understand how toxic she was for him, how manipulative, and you’re there by his side as the realization finally sets in, the trauma of it burning him so harshly it causes blisters and leaves behind missing patches of skin and muscle. You do your best to hold him together through it, because as awful as the scar she's left behind is, a piece of him mourns her when she's laid to rest for the first time, and then the second.

The true horror of the situation comes from the fact that you know there’s a tiny part of him that wishes he had been laid to rest, too. You know there’s a tiny part of him that will always be buried with the dust and rock and ash that lays underneath the new building on 44th and 11th.

It takes time for him to heal. Years and years of abandonment trauma is difficult to break down, difficult to break through, and you make sure you prove day in and day out that you're not going anywhere, despite how much he may throw at you, despite how much he tries to test you and shove you away with hands bloodied by the gashes gaping open in his heart. But all of his efforts to keep you away are futile, because staying by his side is still the easiest thing you've ever done.

(“Aren’t you tired of having to pick me up off the ground, over and over and over?”

“That’s what friends are for, Matt. To help when needed.”

“Yeah, when someone is having a rough time at their job, or fighting with a partner. Not cleaning up after a vigilante who can’t get their shit together. It’s not the same.”)

You help guide him into a new chapter in his life, though sometimes he remains frozen in the one behind him, feet glued to the ground even while he tries to force them forward. Gradually, though, he begins to spend less and less time focused on the past, more on the present, and eventually, more on the future. He finally reaches a point where he achieves balance, in a way you've never seen him existing and thriving in before.

Nelson, Murdock and Page flourishes, he begins to trust in the way law enforcement has been flushed of any crooked officers, and at last he allows himself to rest here and there, at last he gives himself permission to slow down, if only for a moment. Peace is all you have ever wanted for him, this beautiful man who has always struggled to find harmony within himself.

Peace changes him.

And in changing him, it changes you, and changes the way you fall into each other. It alters the way he begins to orbit around you, finally, finally, echoing the way you've always orbited him. He becomes the force holding you up after you’ve spent years doing the same for him.

It takes a good long while for him to understand the love you've always felt for him, initially puzzled that someone could accept him so completely and ardently, without question and without asking for anything in return. And it takes even longer for him to realize that this love is for both sides of him, not just the side that exists between sun-up and sun-down.

Once the full weight of your love for him is at his feet, once he feels it settle in his chest, it's as if a dam bursts, and he suddenly finds himself willing and able and hungry to grasp it and return it in its entirety, and then some.

Your first kiss is as turbulent as he is, reflecting both his desire to be gentle and savor the moment, and his need to take what he wants, consequences be damned.

This unconditional love is something he never thought he'd have, he says. Something that he had known, deep down, was missing with Elektra. It's an idea that has unexpectedly moved from nonexistent to abstract to tangible, and he tells you he's in awe of it, in awe of you.

He’s had your heart in his hands for over a decade, and you cry when he finally hands you his.

He has always loved you, he mumbles into your ear one night, legs tangled together on his soft silk sheets. But he doesn't lie to you and tell you that his love for you has always been there in the same capacity as yours has been for him. You both know that he had only ever seen you as a friend until recently, and even though you tell him not to, he regrets all the time he spent looking for something that was right in front of him the whole time.

Elektra had come along and understood him in a way he'd never dreamed of, and she had been willing, and selfishly eager, to accept the pieces of him that he'd always felt he had to hide. Though he sees now how his love for her had almost damaged him to a point of no return, he is grateful, he says, believing she had freed him from a life that wanted to chain him into inaction.

Day after day, night after night, he tells you that he loves every piece of you; he loves you for your laughter, he loves you for your willingness to help others with no thought of yourself, and he loves you for your ability to think first and act later. It's something he has never quite managed, he admits with a quiet laugh.

He loves you for the pieces of you that never give up on him, the pieces that never let him push you away, the pieces that love him, even while he can't always love himself.

But your favorite part is when he tells you that he loves the way you accept every piece of him without thought, without fear, without judgment, and that he vows to love and accept every piece of you the same way.

(“I love you.”

“You loved her once upon a time, too, Matt.”

“But not like this, sweetheart. Never like this. It’s not the same.”)

And it's enough. It's more than enough.

You find yourself struggling to move past the hatred you feel for her, the hatred for what she did to him. But eventually, you accept the truth that she freed a part of this wonderful man; this man who is so good that it breaks your heart to know he doesn't see it in himself. She freed the part of Matt who, without it, might have been shackled to a world in which he would never have felt complete. She was the one who gave him the encouragement he needed to embrace this side of him, embrace the Devil, embrace the part of him that could do more.

He doesn't use that freedom and darkness in a way Elektra would have anticipated, or in a way that she would have felt matched her own dark desires and intensity. Instead, he chooses to channel his anger and skill into a way that helps people just as much as his hard-earned law degree does. He fights with both his fists and his words, and you love him all the more for it.

You remind yourself, every day, that Elektra once upon a time had been the one to give him what he needed, though she had ripped it away brutally when she realized she wasn't going to get out of it what she wanted. But you are what both Matt and the Devil need now, what he will always need, as the pair of you move forward together. You both know it, both revel in it, and are now unable to pick apart the pieces that are you, and the pieces that are him.

You've taken years to get here. It may have been bittersweet and painful and full of truths that went unspoken, but he is the love of your life, and you believe him when he swears to you that you are his.

Hell's Kitchen doesn't deserve him. The neighborhood doesn't deserve the blood, sweat, and tears he willingly sacrifices for it, but you know he will never give up on it and the people who call it home. You aren't quite sure if you will ever deserve him, either, but you know you will spend the rest of your life trying.

[dovelywind]

you have such amazing art! I love the way you draw Jennifer and Matt. Wanted to tell you that you should defiantly keep up the good work!

ꕥ| My attorney’s at law

Aw shucks — thank you! I’m flattered.

[akariamai]

Why

Pairing: College Student!Matt Murdock x College Student!reader

Word Count: 1128

Part 2, Part 3

You’d often laid awake cuddling with Matt, wondering if he was a figment of your imagination. It’s been three months since you’ve been together and it’s been nothing but perfect. You both fit together impeccably. There was something in the way he spoke, so thought-provoking and humorous, you melted whenever the thought arose. Maybe you both were still in the honeymoon phase, looking at your relationship through a tinted frame. Or maybe it was puppy love. Either way you hoped it would last forever.

As you both were living on a tight budget, you had to get creative with your dates. Nothing too expensive and it had to conform to both of your busy schedules. Dates were infrequent but you’d cherish the time you managed to spend together. Matt was slowly making his way into your heart. You tried to ingrain each moment with him into your mind, not wanting to forget even a second.

The tear jerking storm arrived and ruined everything you had built with him. This storm came in the form of a woman. A beautiful woman. And you didn’t want to be the type of girlfriend to prohibit your boyfriend from having friendly relations with other women. Had placed so much trust in Matt that you knew he would never do anything to belittle your trust. However, there was something about Elektra that screamed trouble and it terrified you. At first, you chalked it up to jealousy. Elektra was gorgeous and alluring and confident. She knew what she wanted and how to get it. Who wouldn’t be jealous of her? 

It was beautifully tragic finding the man you imagined to be the one falling for another. The magic that once sparked now dwindled and flickered into nothing. You ignored the signs as he slipped away from you, bit by bit. She was just a friend, you foolishly convinced yourself as he kept mingling with her without you. Nights that could’ve been just the two of you were now lost in the haze. He spent them with her and the thought was just painful. Burying your head into the sand of willful ignorance, you inadvertently invited heartbreak.

As his birthday approached rather quickly, you planned a small date for just the two of you. Dinner at the small diner you both loved so much. It was the place where you both went on your first date. After dinner, you both would hang out with Foggy and Elektra (as Matt had grown close to her) at a cheap comedy show. It was a straightforward plan and yet, everything went wrong.

You waited for him at the diner, almost physically shaking from excitement, awaiting to give him the present you so desperately saved up for. The waitress knew you quite well as they’d seen you and Matt there quite a lot. They knew you were waiting for him and it became heartbreaking to watch as you realized he wasn’t showing. You called him multiple times without a single answer or text. You called Foggy but he had not seen him either. 

Panic wracked your body as you feared if he’d gotten into an accident and it threw you into a fit of terror. The waitress was kind enough to guide you to regain your composure and asked if there was anything she could do to help. You declined before making your way to the nearest hospital. If he was in an accident, he would’ve been admitted into it. You prayed it wasn’t the case and he had simply forgotten. Keeping to himself with his phone off.

There was no record of him being admitted into the hospital and for a moment, you felt like you could breathe. You let Foggy know of your discovery so he wouldn’t spin himself into a frenzy like she had. As soon as you ended your call with Foggy, a new message surfaced on your phone screen. It was from Matt and relief swept over you in a calming wave. He was alright. He was alive.

Opening it up, your relief soon vanished and only heartache remained.

It’s not working out. Sorry.

Tears surfaced as you shied away from the bright white lights of the hospital. A text message. Matt broke up with you via text message on his birthday after you had planned a date. It shouldn’t have hurt so much but you truly thought he was the one. The one meant to stay. And suddenly the dreams you once had shattered with the words sprawled out on your illuminated screen. 

Why? You wanted to text back but whenever you managed to have a semblance of control, your unsteady hands refused to send it. Your pointing finger would hover over the button but never touch. The wound was too fresh to bear the answer to the question that will undoubtedly keep you up at night. Maybe haunt you late into the night. 

Were you not significant enough to say goodbye to in person? Were you so beneath him that facing you, listening to you weep over the ruins of a relationship, was simply not worth his time. Were you both on different pages of the same book and he tore it all up. The masterpiece that could’ve been the two of you.

A few days later, when you were returning the box full of his stuff you caught them, him and Elektra, making out in his dorm room. It hadn’t even been a week and yet he already found someone new. They stopped when they’d noticed you and didn’t even appear to be apologetic.

“What are you doing here?” He asked without a hint of guilt burrowing into his voice. It lacked any of the emotions tethered to a breakup. “How do you have a key?”

You grilled forcibly, as the love you once shared withered and died, “What are you doing here? Don’t you have class?” You, initially, chose to drop off his stuff when he was gone because you didn’t have the strength to face him.

“Didn’t feel like going.” He shrugged as if he was waiting for something. Maybe an outburst of rage or despair or both. You wanted to scream. You want to shout at him for causing you so much pain and question him if they were together at any point in your relationship but you were tired. It had only been a few days since the breakup and yet here he was resembling the tarnish memories of the two of you. It hurt so much. You felt there was a giant hole in the place where he carved a place for himself. He ruined you. 

“Here’s your stuff.” You dropped the box on the floor and left Foggy’s keys on the table before silently leaving.

Masterlist

[amethystmpress]

the black bastard & the stormborn (daredevil and elektra au) ✩

you desperately want to belong somewhere, with someone, which is the real reason why you sneak into fancy parties... you know what your problem is? you're pretty, you even work the blind thing, but you're dumb.

is it good? this uh... life as a queen. it's fantastic. but i would trade it all in for a lifetime of smelling your skin.

there is always this glorious darkness inside of you, the blood of the dragon and the wolf. that's why i took you to petyr baelish, and yes it's why i loved you, that's why you loved me too. don't deny what we have.

i want to know how you found me. i know who you are because lord bloodraven trains me in his visions. i saw you beat down the bolton bastard. i wear a mask. well, you can't mask that ass. i'd know it anywhere.

so, what if... from now on... if we make it... wherever you run, i run with you? you're not serious. i've never been more serious. this... dany, this is a part of me that i need. and you're the only one who gets it. without this, i'm not alive. i'm not. not really. i don't know what we are together, and if we have any chance in the future... but i do know that i'm free with you. like with no one else.

HAPPY NEW YEARS (BIRTHDAY) SOFI ♥

[d2071art]

I need more Spike x Electra art or I'mma go insane. It's soo hard to find this pairing but I'm soo glad I finally found someone who draws them T_T

It sure gets lonely out here in the rare pairings ghetto T__T

[chvoswxtch]

please don't be mad

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: matt’s run in with his ex has you questioning everything about your relationship, and he’s determined to prove himself to you.

warnings: cursing, lots of angst, fluffy ending, matty being a typical dumbass, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 7.2k

a/n: psa, I am not an elektra anti. I would happily fuck her too. this is once again purely selfish matty content I couldn’t get out of my head. a huge thank you to my darling @yourbucky084 for beta reading, helping edit & providing such helpful feedback.  also a big thank you to @pleasurebuttonwrites for helping me figure out what the fuck is behind matty’s bed for this fic lmao. I appreciate you both so much! as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[part two]

It felt like I had been staring at the wall in the darkness for hours. My body was aching, begging me to move from my current position lying on my side that I had been stubbornly stuck in for the past forty five minutes, but under absolutely no circumstances would I turn over. I would deal with my body’s stiffness tomorrow. I had tried, and failed, several times to get my brain to just shut off. I silently pleaded for the sweet blanket of unconsciousness to wash over me so that I could get a break from all the noise in my head. Tonight was the worst night to be an insomniac.

“Angel?”

I squeezed my eyes shut when I heard his low voice cut through the silence. Asshole. He knew the effect that his voice had on me, especially at that volume. I tried my hardest to get my aggravated breathing under control to a slow, steady pace. My heart was the one that wouldn’t cooperate. It was still thudding angrily against my chest. I heard a deep sigh cut through the darkness and a rustling of sheets behind me.

“Sweetheart, I know you’re not asleep.”

I felt the bed dip beside me as he turned onto his side to face my back. Despite the coldness of the bedroom, I could feel the heat radiating off his body. Normally, we’d be tangled up together. I always slept best with my head on his chest, leg slung lazily over his hips, completely wrapped up in his arms and warmth. But tonight, I wanted to be as far away from him as possible. 

“Honey, please.”

I grit my teeth and flung the covers off my body, shivering slightly as the awaiting cold nipped at my exposed skin and caused goosebumps to appear everywhere. I gripped onto my pillow and ripped it off the bed, hastily rounding the corner towards the refuge of the living room.

“Goodnight, Matthew.”

Before I had a chance to slide the door open, Matt was on his feet and in front of me in a flash. He gently wrapped his arm around my wrist to halt my movements and firmly grabbed onto my hip to hold me in place.

“Y/N…you’re not sleeping on the couch, come on.”

“Fine. You are.”

I shoved the pillow roughly against Matt’s bare chest, grabbing the handle on the door and sliding it back so hard into the track it nearly made the entire apartment shake. Matt winced at the sound, squinting his eyes and turning his head away from the door. Normally I would have felt bad about the noise considering his sensitive hearing, but tonight I didn’t really give a fuck about his comfort. He sighed deeply as he tossed the pillow onto the bed and took a step towards me.

“Sweetheart, I really don’t want to go to bed angry. Please.”

“Well maybe you should’ve thought of that earlier Matthew, before you hooked up with your ex at a fucking party and tried to lie about it.”

“Y/N that’s...that’s not what happened. I told you, we just kissed…and I explained why.”

“Right, and I’m supposed to just take your word for it? After you’ve told me how many lies tonight Matthew?”

“I didn’t-”

“You blew me and Foggy off because you said you had an ‘important meeting’ with your special ‘client’. And then you come through that door, wearing a disheveled tux, with the collar covered in red lipstick I might add, and I find out you actually went to a gala with her.”

“Because she had a lead about information that could help take down the Yakuza!”

I had been seeing violent shades of red ever since Matt walked through the front door. I was pissed when I saw that he was wearing a tux, which was not what he had left Foggy and I’s company in, but the second I spotted the lipstick on his collar, I was fucking livid. Matt must have sensed the shift in my emotions because he immediately pulled off his glasses and raised his hands up slowly in surrender, quickly spitting out an “I can explain”.

My blood only began to boil at the mention of her name. Elektra. Matt had reluctantly, and very briefly, told me about her one night when we had first started dating. The gaps that he left, Foggy unenthusiastically filled in later on. He very clearly had not been a fan of hers, and I grew to understand why.

The more I learned about her, the more my disdain grew for the way she treated Matt. The way she left him..and what she had tried to do to him..what she had tried to make him do before she disappeared. I couldn’t believe he would actually want to be around her again after everything she had put him through. She had almost ruined his life, and after that night, he said he never wanted to speak about her again. I didn’t press it. I didn’t want to upset him, and honestly I didn’t care if I ever heard her name again. All I wanted to do was make up for her faults, and show Matt how much he deserved to be loved. I promised him that I would always accept him for exactly who he was. I never once tried to change him. Not like her.

I was beyond incandescent when her name so easily rolled off his tongue. I had been seething all night since his earlier confession. I was pissed she’d had the audacity to show up after all these years just to torment him all over again. But mainly, I was outraged at Matt for letting her, and for lying to me about it. When he finally came clean about being Daredevil, he swore he would never lie again, no matter what. While anger coursed through my veins, there were hints of hurt and betrayal that made every rush sting even more.

“And that makes it all okay?”

“No, of course it doesn’t. I just..I need you to understand that’s all it was, okay? A mission. That’s it. The last thing I ever wanted was to see her again, but she had something I needed. Something that could help me actually get rid of them, for good this time. I couldn’t pass that up. They’re too dangerous.”

“Then why did you lie about it? If that’s all it was, why couldn’t you tell me the truth? Why couldn’t you tell Foggy the truth?”

Matt averted his head downwards, placing both of his hands on his hips as he stood there silently. His lips parted slightly, taking in a deep breath as if the words he was searching for would be laced within the oxygen hitting his lungs.

“I don’t know. I just..I didn’t want to start a fight. I’m sorry. Please…don’t be mad.”

That rage that had been brewing inside me ever since he walked through that door was suddenly bubbling like molten lava, and I was about to fucking erupt. I grabbed the closest thing on the nightstand and flung it directly at Matt’s head. I knew it wouldn’t actually hit him, not that I really wanted to, but I couldn’t think straight through all my fury. He dodged the vase just in time as the ceramic shattered in cataclysmic pieces against the wall, shock written evidently all over his features by my uncharacteristic outburst.

“Mad? You think I’m mad? I’m fucking furious, Matthew! There aren’t words strong enough for how I feel right now. You lied. Again. And I’m supposed to, what, just be okay with it? Just be okay with the fact that you’re dressing up and running around New York with your ex to lavish galas because it’s for the greater fucking good?”

“Sweetheart, it was just for information, okay? I swear. Look by the time we found the ledger, they already knew we were there. We snuck a floor down and pretended to be a lost drunk couple so that we didn’t get shot. It was strictly a distraction. If they had found us and figured out what we were actually doing, they would’ve killed us.”

“Well if she’s so fucking impressive, why didn’t she go by herself? She didn’t need you there, she wanted you there. And you willingly went. You could have said no.”

Matt ran a hand through his messy brown hair, clearly annoyed that I wasn’t seeing things his way, and rubbed his palm across the stubble on his right cheek. He dropped his hands to place them on his hips once again and shook his head slowly, pointing his chin in my direction.

“You’re right. I should’ve said no. I should’ve let her go alone, and I should’ve told you the truth from the beginning. I just…I really didn’t want to start a fight.”

“I’m done fighting with you, Matthew.”

I felt completely drained, like all the life had been sucked out of me steadily ever since he walked through that door. Our fight earlier was explosive, definitely the worst one we’ve ever had. One of the only ones we’ve ever had. I thought it had depleted all of my energy, but the way he kept trying to justify his actions kept fueling the fire. I was tired of being lied to. I was tired of him disregarding my feelings about this whole situation, and not even trying to understand why I felt the way I did. I was tired of feeling like I had to fight to keep my place in his life. I don’t even remember why I agreed to stay over at his place tonight. I should’ve just gone home.

“Don’t...don’t say that. Please. Your voice makes it sound like you’re giving up.”

“Maybe I am Matthew. This was a mistake. I’m going home.”

“No…no no no. Don’t say things like that, please. Look don’t…don’t go. Please, Y/N. It’s late and you’re upset and I...I don’t want you out walking the streets alone right now-”

“I don’t really care what you want right now.”

Matt quickly snatched my overnight bag out of my hands as soon as I reached for it and tossed it across the room with annoying accuracy. I futilely shoved at his chest when he grabbed onto my arms and pulled me in close, but it was no use. He was a lot stronger than I was, and on top of that I was exhausted. I didn’t have any fight left in me for tonight, and there was no escaping the cage of his embrace.

“Please let go.”

“I can’t. I can’t, sweetheart. I need you, please. Look I fucked up, okay? I know that. I fucked up and I’m so sorry. I know you’re probably sick of hearing me say that, but I am. Just...please don’t leave. I love you, Y/N. Let me..let me make it up to you. Let me show you how much I love you.”

My eyes widened as the words dripping with suggestion left his mouth. I tilted my head back and stared up at him dumbfounded, a humorless laugh leaving my lips as I managed to find a surge of strength to push as hard as I could at Matt’s chest and finally shove him backwards.

“Are you fucking joking? You have some goddamn balls, Matthew Murdock. Are you seriously asking me for sex right now? You think that’s gonna fix this?”

“I’m not asking, I’m offering. I know you need it.”

“You don’t know anything. What the hell makes you think I want anything to do with you right now? Why would I even want to kiss you, knowing all I’m going to be able to taste is her.”

Matthew Murdock was one cocky son of a bitch, and his audacity never ceased to amaze me. He clenched his jaw slightly as spite flowed from my lips, hands balling up into tight fists at his sides as he let out a controlled deep breath. His features morphed into an expression of distress as he took slow calculated steps closer towards me and inhaled, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. His eyes were a shade darker when they opened and his tongue quickly darted out to swipe across his bottom lip as he squared his shoulders. I knew that look, and it caused a shiver to cascade down my spine. 

“Then why don’t you let me have a taste, hm? I don’t want you to taste anything else on my tongue except yourself. I don’t want to taste anything else but you.”

Matt tilted his head to the side slightly, his blank honey eyes fixated right in my direction, trying to sense anything that would give me away. He waited silently to taste the effect of his words in the air as they began to seep from my core, and feel the rise of heat that flushed across my chest and the tops of my cheeks. He waited for the anger to dissipate into desire. Matt Murdock was not a very patient man, but the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was when it came to outsmarting his prey. He set the trap, and waited for me to fall into it. He knew I would. It had been too long, and he knew me too damn well. Matt always knew how to melt the icy barrier I hid beneath, rendering me a needy puddle in his capable hands. The twitch of his jaw and fleeting uptick of his lips let me know he had gotten exactly what he was waiting for.

“I can smell you, sweetheart. Your need...your want. It’s palpable. I can feel it in my own veins. I can practically taste you from here. It’s been what…two weeks? Two weeks since I’ve touched you. I haven’t been paying attention to you like I should have been. I haven’t been very good to you lately. I’ve been neglecting you, and I’m so sorry for that. Please...let me make up for it. Use me.”

Use me.

My mouth suddenly felt dry as it clicked in my brain exactly what he meant. Matt knew what he was doing. I was a sucker for his voice, especially when he used his “devil” voice on me, and he never hesitated to use it to his advantage. He knew it would make me crumble. It always did. He knew exactly how to get what he wanted, how to win. He masked every single one of his sinful words behind that velvet voice, and I loved it. Matt took my silence as an invitation to move even closer, his voice becoming dangerously low as he spoke.

“You don’t have to touch me. You can have my fingers, my mouth, whatever you want. I can feel how frustrated you are. I know how badly you need this. So let me help. Take it all out on me. Use me, sweetheart.”

I felt like I was being pulled in a million different directions in my head. A tiny, logical piece of my brain wanted me to smack him. It was yelling at me to not give in. To instead tell him to fuck off, get my things, and just go. The other part of my brain wanted me to just call it a night. Just let go of all the anger, try to get some sleep, and discuss the future of our relationship in the morning when we were both level headed. But both of those thoughts were completely drowned out by the ache beginning to throb uncomfortably between my thighs.

I was just as sexually frustrated as I was...well...regularly frustrated. I couldn’t remember the last time Matt had kissed me, or touched me, or even told me he loved me. He had been so busy lately, I felt like we only saw each other in passing like forgotten ships in the night. My body yearned for him. He knew it better than anyone, sometimes even better than I did. He always knew what I needed. 

My renegade eyes traveled over Matt’s exposed muscular chest as I got lost in my inner turmoil, paying extra attention to how his sweatpants and briefs hung treacherously low on his hips. I had spent so many moments mapping out every inch of his skin and every visible scar with my fingers and tongue. If I focused really hard, I could feel the tautness of his abs on my fingertips from whenever he got close to releasing in my mouth. I could hear the gravel in his voice as he whispered vivid dirty details of his plans for me into my ear. I could taste the tanginess of my own release on his lips as he kissed me after bringing me to climax with his skilled tongue.

I felt a warm rush of arousal pool between my thighs. The soft groan that exuded from Matt’s lips let me know he had noticed it. He always knew when I was wet for him. I could never hide from him. His tongue swiped along his bottom lip as he stared just above me, his fists tightening at his sides so hard his bruised knuckles were stark white. I know he wanted nothing more than to rush forward and take me, fuck it all out, and beg for forgiveness when he finally sent me over the edge...but he stayed still. Matt had always been the dominant one in our relationship, and I liked it that way. I never knew I could find so much freedom in completely giving myself over to someone. I trusted Matt. I loved when he took control. I craved being submissive to him, so much so that it would have been embarrassing if it weren’t so fucking satisfying. I didn’t know if I had it in me to be the one in control, especially not with the headspace I was in. I was desperately grasping at the frayed edges of my anger, but the way he was staring at me with those ravenous wild eyes had me letting go without a second thought.

“I..I don’t..I’m not sure if I..”

Matt reached out to gently take my hand into his, brushing his thumb over the back of my knuckles and giving it a soft squeeze. Somehow he always understood me, even when I couldn’t get the words out. He just knew. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you. I got you, sweetheart.”

Matt slowly sunk down onto his knees in front of me, head tilted back to keep his gaze up towards my face. I felt my breath hitch in my throat as he hooked his index fingers under the seam of my panties, pulling them down my legs carefully as he brushed his fingers tenderly along the back of my knee and the side of my calf. He turned his head slightly to place a chaste kiss to my inner thigh and I felt him smile against my skin when I let out an involuntary whine. He tapped my ankle lightly to signal for me to step out of my panties, balling them up into his hand and shoving them into the pocket of his sweatpants. 

Matt placed several more scorching kisses up the expanse of my legs and over my thighs as he slowly rose up from his knees, towering over me once he stood to his full height. He gestured his head towards the bed and began to walk backwards.

“Come here.”

I watched him in confusion as he took his place on the bed, glancing down at the spot on the floor in front of me where he had just been.

“What…what um...”

“You’re gonna ride my face.”

I nearly choked on my own spit, my eyes widening in shock as I watched Matt move to lay flat on his back on the mattress. Matt Murdock was no stranger to eating me out. Sometimes I think he enjoyed it almost as much as I did. There were times I had to practically pry him away, nearly in tears from overstimulation because he just kept going and going and going. He’d had his face buried between my thighs countless times, but never like that.

“W-What?”

“You’re gonna sit on my face, you’re gonna ride my tongue until you come, and you’re gonna keep going until you feel satisfied. If you wanna go all fucking night, we will. You don’t stop until you get what you need.”

Even though he was offering to let me take control, there was still a dominant edge to his voice that made my knees weak. Matt reached his hand out for me to take, his eyes blankly moving back and forth as he waited to sense my presence come near. I was frozen with apprehension. I wanted it, God did I want it, but I was nervous. I had seen a picture of Elektra once. We looked nothing alike, figure wise. I had a very curvy figure. I had wider hips and thick thighs, and while I knew Matt was very strong, I also knew I would die of embarrassment if I had to explain how I nearly suffocated my boyfriend from trying to ride his face for the first time.

“Don’t.”

“What?”

I blinked a few times as I stared over at Matt, taking a few cautious steps forward until I stood next to the bed. I reached out slowly to grab onto his hand and swallowed thickly when he tugged me closer, pressing a reassuring kiss to each of my knuckles.

“Don’t think so hard. Just come here and let me make you feel better, please.”

I tried to let go of all my trepidation with a deep exhale, capturing my bottom lip between my teeth as I climbed up onto the bed. I let go of Matt’s hand momentarily to pull my oversized sleep shirt over my head so that it wouldn’t get in the way. I swung my leg over Matt’s waist and straddled his chest. He quickly grabbed onto my hips and pulled me up further with impressive speed, causing me to gasp and brace my hands against the wall.

“Jesus, Matt. Slow down.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I just...fuck...can you get up here? Please, baby?”

I wasn’t used to Matt sounding so needy. That was usually my role. I was always the one begging for him…begging for more. Hearing how desperately he wanted to taste me sent a tidal wave of lust dripping down my thighs, and Matt growled lowly in his throat at that. His fingertips dug roughly into the soft flesh of my thighs and his hips bucked upwards slightly. I stared down at him in awe, feeling an overwhelming sense of pride and confidence from the way he was reacting. 

“Sweetheart...please...I’m begging you. Let me make you come until you can’t walk. Come on angel...be a good girl for me and come ride my face, yeah? Let me show you how much I want you. Only want you.”

Between his strained begging and the way he moved his head to get closer to where I was soaked, I couldn’t take it anymore. My pussy seemed to have a mind of its own because before I could stop myself, I was settling my knees on either side of Matt’s head and bracing my hands onto the wall to steady myself, preparing to lower myself languidly. Matt however had other plans. In an instant, Matt had a bruising iron grip on my thighs and had roughly pulled my soaking cunt down on his face. One of my hands immediately flew down to grip at his hair as I moaned loudly when I felt his tongue slip inside me. Matthew Murdock was extremely talented with his mouth, which made him an exceptional lawyer, but an even more sensational lover. 

His mouth was so warm as he ravaged me, and I felt myself already having a difficult time staying upright. Matt’s large hand came down hard against my ass and I cried out as it surged me forward, the action causing his nose to bump divinely against my clit as his tongue explored my pussy like it was the first time all over again. It took one more slap for me to get the hint and I slowly started to move my hips against his face. The muffled moan of approval that sounded beneath me only spurred me on to roll my hips back and forth delicately like an easy tide. I gripped tightly onto Matt’s hair and tugged hard which caused a groan to reverberate enticingly against my clit. 

I could feel him moving slightly around on the bed behind me and glanced over my shoulder to see him rolling his hips upwards into the air in time with my own pace. I could see the perfect outline of his impressive cock as it strained against the barrier of his sweatpants. There was already a wet patch forming which drove me even more crazy. He was really fucking enjoying this. It never failed to turn me on even further seeing how much Matt got off to getting me off.

My breaths became more jagged and struggled to be released from my chest the closer I got to the edge. I should’ve felt pathetic about being so close to coming undone so quickly, but it had been weeks. I whined loudly as I began to grind my hips down back and forth on his tongue, welcoming the burn of his facial hair rubbing roughly against my inner thighs. I had gotten so used to his touch that I felt like I was completely starving after two weeks without it. I hadn’t even bothered trying to get myself off because I knew it would be no use. I couldn’t come without Matt, not since the first night I let him touch me and make himself at home between my thighs. Nothing compared to him.

“M-Matty...oh god...please...”

Matt clamped both of his large hands down on my thighs to hold me in place, wrapping his plump lips around my swollen clit to suck on it feverishly. I could feel him moaning against my core and it only brought me closer and closer to where I wanted to be. It was so close...so fucking close. My entire body felt tense with anticipation as I waited impatiently to be tossed over the edge into pure ecstasy. It felt like a rubber band within me was being stretched impossibly thin, and I just needed it to fucking snap already. 

“Maaaatty…please please please..”

I don’t even know what I was asking for, but he knew. He always knew. Matt granted me mercy as he quickened the pace of his tongue, flickering over my clit like a flame trying to withstand the wind. He gently bit down on my sensitive nub, causing me to explode with pure bliss. I rocked my hips against his face messily as I kept my tight grip on his hair. A high pitched whine left my lips when I felt a growl rip through his chest as I finally came into his mouth. I glanced down just in time to see his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head from my taste hitting his tongue, a satisfied primal groan resonating against my core. Matt wouldn’t let me budge until he greedily lapped up every drop of nectar my body had to offer. My thighs shook aggressively as I tried to ride out one of the most powerful orgasms I’d ever had. My body felt entirely too heavy, and the only reason I hadn’t collapsed was because Matt was still holding me up. He detached his lips just for a split second, baring his teeth in menacing snarl.

“Go for another one, sweetheart. I told you…we can stay here all fucking night.”

I glanced down to see the lower half of Matt’s face completely coated in my glimmering wetness. His lips were swollen and red, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, panting as he tried desperately to catch his own breath. His hair was sticking up in odd directions from my hazardous gripping and his eyes were blown open so wide, I could see the devil in them, waiting for me to unlock his chains. I whimpered as I felt his tongue teasing at my folds, trying my hardest to pull away from his eager mouth.

“I..I c-can’t..ah fuck Matty…please…let me down...please...”

Matt grabbed onto my hips and lifted me up gently, helping me onto my back on the spot right beside him. My body was still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure when I felt the warm weight of his body on top of mine. His lips left a burning trail of kisses down the column of my neck, between the valley of my breasts, and along my lower stomach. I whined when I felt his warm breath wavering against my clit.

“Shh...let me take care of you, sweetheart. I’ll do all the work. Just lay back and let me make it better.”

“Matty...please. I just want you, please.”

I hadn’t forgiven him. I was still hurt and angry, and there was so much we needed to talk about. But right now, I just needed him. I needed to feel him. I needed to feel our bodies connected together, like they belonged to one another. I needed him to tell me everything would be okay as he held my hand and made love to me. I needed to know he was still mine. 

I could feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as he hovered over me and I grabbed onto his face to pull him down in a searing kiss. I could feel him sigh in content and relief against my mouth, sliding his hand under my back to pull me up closer so that could press our chests together. I could feel his heartbeat thundering against my own in a perfect symphony. As I pushed at the waistband of his sweatpants, he gently grabbed onto my wrist and broke the kiss to lean his forehead against mine.

“Sweetheart, I told you…you don’t have to touch me.”

“I need to, Matty. I need it, please. I need you.”

Matt stilled at my sobbing plea and brought one of his large hands up to brush the scattered tears away with his thumb, cupping my cheek in his hand as he gazed down at me in pure concern.

“Angel, what’s wrong? Talk to me. Was it too much? Do I need to stop?”

“No...no please don’t. I just...I need you, Matty. I need you here.”

“I am here, sweetheart.”

“I need you to stay here. You can’t...you can’t just ignore me for two weeks and then run off with someone else, Matt. You can’t do that to me...especially not with her. So...if this is it, then I want-”

“Hey, no. This is not it. Don’t talk like that. Listen to me...I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I’ll never do that again, I swear. You mean everything to me, alright? I’m not going anywhere, sweet girl. I’m right here. And I don’t want you to worry about her. She’s on the first flight out of New York in the morning, okay? She’s not coming back. It’s just you and me, my love. I’m right here. I love you.”

“Then show me.”

I didn’t wait for him as I braced my palms against his broad chest and pushed with all the strength I had left, rising up onto my knees as I pushed him down onto his back. I ignored his faint protests, grabbing at the waistband of his briefs and sweatpants to tug them down in one swift motion as quickly as possible. I pressed my palm hard against his chest to keep him down when he tried to sit up, climbing onto his lap and positioning myself over his impatient cock. The tip was swollen with lust and weeping with need, standing proudly at attention above his stomach, waiting for me. I didn’t take my time to slowly lower myself down like I normally did. No matter how many times Matt had been inside me, ruined me, I always had to adjust to his size. 

We both cried out in unison when I sank down completely, and his hands flew up to seize my hips. Being on top always required the most accommodation, but I loved having him like this. I could feel him everywhere. All I wanted was to be completely filled to the brim and consumed entirely by him. I winced as the sting of my walls being stretched to their limits pierced through my lower half. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. Easy easy…don’t hurt yourself. We can take it slow-fuck!”

I ignored every single one of Matt’s words as I sat up straight and began to swivel my hips in purposeful circles. It burned, God did it burn, but I wanted it. I wanted it all. I didn’t know if I believed Matt’s words. I didn’t know if the love he had for me would ever compare to what he had felt for her, what he might still feel for her. I didn’t know that I believed tonight wasn’t it for us. But all that I wanted was a reminder, that this had been real. That Matt had been real, and he had been mine. I would take the pain willingly if it meant I’d be able to feel him for the next few days. I’d happily be haunted by the ache he left between my thighs to remind myself that this was real.

Every drawn out moan of my name that rang in my ears, every breathless pant, every plea of oh my god and every praise of fuck sweetheart kept me moving even though I felt like my legs were seconds away from giving up. I threw my head back towards the heavens, hoping God would understand my prayers and what I needed through the form of Matt’s name. On my knees above him, I prayed. And I prayed and I prayed and I prayed. 

I didn’t know if the tears falling freely down my cheeks were from being pushed to my limit physically, or mentally, but I cried out when Matt sat up fully to wipe them away from my cheeks, reaching farther inside me than I ever thought possible. I whined when I felt his hand wrap delicately around my throat, his thumb and index finger holding my chin in a firm grasp as he captured my lips. 

“Shh…it’s alright sweetheart. I’m here. I’m right here. Doing so well for me, angel. Always so good to me. Let me take care of you.”

Matt brought my arms up to wrap around his neck, grabbing my hips gently to flip our bodies over and lay me down into the sanctuary of silk covered pillows. He pulled my legs tightly around his waist, locking his own hips in place against mine. One hand came up to intertwine our fingers together, squeezing my hand in reassurance as he placed his other forearm directly beside my head. Pressing our foreheads together, brushing his nose and lips against mine, Matt began to oscillate his hips at a tender speed, allowing me to feel every detailed stroke of him against my tight walls.

“My perfect girl. Can’t you feel how perfect we fit together, Y/N? Can’t you feel how perfect you are for me?”

I couldn’t handle the vulnerability in his featherlight whispers. It tugged so hard on the strings of my heart, I thought they might snap. I tried to whisper his name, respond with something coherent, but all I could manage was a needy whimper. Matt let go of my hand for just a second, slipping his own between our bodies to press down on the bulge in my lower stomach.

“You can feel me here, can’t you sweetheart?”

I grabbed onto the back of his neck urgently, digging my nails into the muscle of his upper back to anchor him in place. I tried to nod, tried to hide my face into the refuge of his neck to escape his inexorable gaze, but he wasn’t having any of that. Matt’s hand was quickly covering my throat again, his hold on my chin a little tighter this time, forcing my eyes to meet his.

“I am not going anywhere. Nothing could ever take me away from you. Not her, not Fisk, no one. Not even God himself could keep me from you.”

His caramel coated eyes were staring so hard down into mine, it knocked the breath out of me. For a second, I felt like Matt could actually see me. His stare only grew in intensity as his thrusts became more precise. 

“Listen to me, sweetheart. You are mine. And I am yours. We belong to no one else, but each other. I’m gonna marry you someday, Y/N. Someday soon. I want nothing more than for you to be my wife, my perfect girl. My angel. There’s no one else I want by my side for the rest of my life. No one else who understands me better than you do. No one else that accepts me like you do. No one else that’s as good to me as you are. I will do whatever it takes to prove that to you. I will put a ring on your finger tomorrow. I will put a baby in you tonight.”

A sharp gasp mixed with a breathless moan echoed from my lips at Matt’s words. I knew Matt wanted to get married someday, and I always hoped it would be to me. We had very briefly had a conversation about kids once. He knew that I wanted them, and said that he did too. Someday. While marriage I knew we could make work, I wasn’t sure about the kids part. I didn’t know if I could handle having a child with him when he still needed the other side of him, and I didn’t know if he would ever know when he wouldn’t need that side of him anymore. It was a tricky conversation I wasn’t ready to try and navigate. I didn’t want to risk losing Matt, and I would never ask him to give up something that was so important to him. But the conviction in his voice, the certainty of his words, made me lightheaded. Matt tilted his head to the side slightly, a sense of recognition softening his gaze as a light smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“That what you want, sweetheart? Hm? That what you need? Taking my last name and growing our baby inside you to remind you every day that I’m yours?”

“Matty…”

“You want all of me, don’t you angel? C’mon, tell me. Tell me you want all of me.”

“I…God, Matty…want all of you, please.”

“I love you, Y/N. You love me, don’t you? C’mon baby, tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Matty. I, oh God, love you so much…”

“Say you’ll marry me. Gonna ask properly, I promise, but I need to hear you say it. Tell me, sweetheart.”

“Yes Matty…yes I’ll marry you.”

I knew Matt was listening intently to my heartbeat with every answer that spilled from me, searching for any falter in rhythm that would tell him I wasn’t telling the truth. That I was just obeying his orders. But I wasn’t lying. I meant every word. I knew that Matt knew that from the mouth splitting grin that took over his entire face.

“That’s my girl. My perfect girl. Now, tell me I can come inside. We can start our family tonight, sweetheart. C’mon, tell me you want it, and you’ll be pregnant before the sun comes up. Let me hear it, angel.”

“Please Matty, please. Please come inside me. I want our family. I want it all. Please Matty, make me yours.”

Matt tightened his grip slightly on my throat, silencing my cries of pleasure with his lips. His pace remained gentle and loving, but his thrusts were powerful and meticulous, relentlessly hitting that spot inside me that had me swimming in constellations that appeared behind my eyelids every single time. It didn’t take much longer for me to plunge from the peak of exhilaration, free falling into uninhibited gratification below that was completely and irrevocably Matt.

I felt tingles sparking throughout my extremities as my body spasmed in rolling blackouts of delectation, causing my walls to clench unforgivably around Matt’s cock. I could feel the rhythm of his hips stuttering into short, staccato bursts as he finally reached his own crescendo. The pure satisfaction entangled in the legato moans of his climax wrapped around me like a warm blanket, lulling me into a state of ease. For the first time all night, joy buzzed in my bloodstream, and I was able to silence the roaring of my insecurity.

Matt was here. Matt loved me. Matt was mine.

I hugged him as close and tightly to my chest as I could, refusing to unlock my legs from around his waist when I felt him start to pull back.

“Don’t, please. Just stay. Just wanna stay like this.”

Matt pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and allowed his lips to linger there for a moment before marking my nose, cheeks, and lips in his adoration. He nuzzled his head into my neck and I felt him inhale my scent deeply before sighing in content.

“Alright, sweetheart. We can stay like this.”

I basked in the comfortable silence for a moment, allowing my brain to process every single one of Matt’s words. I felt a childlike sense of giddiness, like when you were a kid and you knew you were getting the exact gift you wanted for Christmas. You had peeked, and spoiled it for yourself, but still felt unfiltered excitement anyway. The gift itself didn’t matter as much as the feeling of knowing that it was what you wanted and it was yours. 

Matt Murdock was my gift. The one thing I always wanted, the only thing that mattered, that was all mine.

I threaded my fingers lightly through his hair, occasionally massaging at his scalp and smiling at the hums of gratitude that vibrated against my neck. 

“Matty?”

“Hm?”

“You know I’m still on birth control, right?”

“I know, sweetheart. It doesn’t hurt to start practicing though, does it?”

I could feel his smile against my skin. If I closed my eyes, I could see it. I knew exactly which one it was. I couldn’t help but giggle at his response, tightening my arms around his back.

“Well, if that’s the case, then we’ve been practicing for over a year Matty. Sometimes several times a day.”

Matt pulled his head back just enough so that he could face me, bumping his nose against my own as a devilish grin stretched across his soft lips.

“I like to be prepared.”

[petertingle-yipyip]

devil on my shoulder - matt murdock (masterlist)

Pairing: Daredevil x Vigilante!Reader (Matt x reader)

Summary: With the Fisk situation behind her, Exodus tries to move forward without Daredevil. But as fate would have it, that shift changes Y/N’s relationship with Matt. The two start to wonder if maybe those lives are more interconnected than they first believed.

SUMMARY VIDEO // SEASON ONE // DEFENDERS // SEASON THREE

(1) Criminal: With Wilson Fisk in the past, Exodus tries to move forward without Daredevil. But a strange meeting leads to potentially another threat… Or maybe an ally. (MINI-PREVIEW)

(2) Glimpse of Us: Earning trust in Hell’s Kitchen is surprisingly easy when it comes to your newest ally. But one long night reveals more about all of you than you had expected (MINI-PREVIEW)

(3) Thank Me Later: Working with the Punisher was supposed to be simple. But Daredevil finds a way into the mix yet again and one long night brings some unexpected yet very welcome advice and insight into a new friend, along with an implosion of what was left standing. (MINI-PREVIEW)

(4) New Girl in Town: Helping an old friend leads to more trouble than it’s worth, especially when it interferes with the fate of a new friend. Dots are finally connected but is the outcome really worth it? (MINI-PREVIEW)

(5) Why Am I Like This?: The case of a lifetime. Frank Castle V The People. Benefits of working with the Punisher meant you knew who he really was and you were ready to go to war to prove it. (MINI-PREVIEW)

(6) Not My Job Anymore: The People v. Frank Castle hits the pinnacle and it seems to take down everything else in her life, too. (MINI-PREVIEW)

(7) Only Love Can Hurt Like This: Nelson and Murdock finally falls, leaving a cracked friendship in its wake. With a new development from Frank Castle, Y/N and Matt go to visit an old… adversary. (MINI-PREVIEW)

(8) I’ve Had Enough: The magnetism that is Matt Murdock is hard to ignore, especially in tender moments that seemed to be few and even further between. But maybe - just maybe - there’s enough spark to rekindle a flame. (MINI-PREVIEW)

(9) Devil Doesn’t Bargain: Comfort comes with the familiar as Y/N and Matt find a way to something softer than bickering. But even then, a new revelation shakes their relationship with an old mutual friend. (MINI-PREVIEW)

(10) Devil On My Shoulder: Daredevil, Exodus, and Elektra v. The Hand. Three go in, two go out and nothing is quite the same between the ones who remain. (MINI-PREVIEW) (Bonus Matt POV)

[roses-for-julia]

Julia didn’t caused Spike’s suicidal ideation.

She’s the only one to ever make it go away.

[tuckersdeslauriers]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BECCA!! @timlucys, i hope this year is your best one yet! ♡  

[juliaswickcrs]

NOWHERE FAST :: CHAPTER UPDATE ( hit me with your best shot )

AO3

mood board by @come-along-pond

Elektra slammed into Quill’s shoulder as the man came to an abrupt stop. “Jesus, dude, warn a girl next time.” “Sorry didn’t exactly have time with this big blue asshole in front of me,” Quill whispered sharply, never taking his eyes off the giant of an inmate before him.  The alien eyed the Terrans with a hunger in his gaze. He kept looking more at Quill than Elektra, however. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or not.  “Next time, we come across another blue alien who wants to eat me, you’ll be the first person I tell.” His sarcasm sunk into her skin and Elektra sighed. 

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