#patching up wounds

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Trust In Battle Scars

Summary: Joel Miller x Fe!Reader -> Even if you haven't always liked Joel, you've trusted him. And he's trusted you.

Disclaimer: Heavy smut, mentions of battle scars, blood, being buried alive, torture and murder (Joel hurts bad guys), swearing throughout. This is an 18+ so MDNI. Angst and fluff spread throughout. Joel takes care of Reader, maybe unlikely friends-to-lovers. Long fic. Not Proof Read.

Joel kicked the door open once more with his foot as he helped you inside, Tommy already inside throwing things away from the sofa to let you sit down. 

“Joel, I’m fine. Honestly.”

“You’re hurt and bleeding. You’re fine, my ass.”

He helped you onto the sofa before he stood back, propped his gun up by the wall and started to take off his jacket. “Ellie, go and get the-”

She appeared by his side, the first aid kit already in hand. “Here.”

“Hot water from the kettle.”

“On it!”

You held onto your side, feeling the blood slowly soaked your clothes. “I’m fine. You don’t need to make a fuss. I’ve survived through worse.”

But Joel was already on his knees, rolling up his sleeves and opening up the kit beside him on the floor. 

“If I let you out of my sight, you’d just let this fester until you collapsed.”

You shook your head. “No I wouldn’t. I’d clean it myself.”

Through the front door, Tommy, Maria and a couple of others who had been there to see you get hurt came through the door just as Ellie came back inside with a large bowl of hot water before running upstairs to go and get fresh towels. 

Joel reached out for the hem of your top but you recoiled back. “No…I’m okay.”

Looking around, Maria was asking her husband a thousand questions and the others were staring at where the blood was soaking your shirt and hands. 

He looked between you and everyone else before yelling; “Everyone out!”

“Towels.” Ellie placed them by his side. 

“Ellie, get everyone out.”

She took what Joel asked seriously. Turning on her heel, she started ushering people outside. 

“Ellie?”

She looked back from the door. 

“Keep ‘em out.”

She gave Joel a mock salute before closing the front door behind her and Joel sat back on his heels, his hands on his hips. His voice sounded less hurried when he spoke again. 

“They’re gone. They can’t see from here.”

You were weary but slowly started to remove your jacket, Joel helping pull it from your arms before reaching for the hem of your top. 

“Think I’m gonna need your help.” Joel just nodded and helped you anyway. Lifting the t-shirt over your head, he took in your body. Under any other context the thoughts at the back of his head would be at the front. But he was too concerned with the hole in your abdomen to think about much else. 

Across your body there were different sized scars. A couple bullet wounds that had healed over the last couple of months, if not years. Gashes – some were deeper than others but they’d healed over. There were a couple of fresh grazes on your stomach from where you’d fallen afterwards, but they’d heal on their own. 

“This is gonna hurt.” He couldn’t lie to you. 

You nodded in understanding. “I know. But I trust you.”

But I trust you.

That was something you’d been telling him since you met him. Even if you hadn’t gotten along the best, you’d always trusted him. When you first got shot, you hadn’t told anyone. You’d kept it to yourself all day, but Joel had noticed you twitching and hissing each time you hiked your pack higher on your back. So, by the time night fell and the others said you’d gone to bed, he’d gone looking for you. 

He found you by the river bed, biting on your lip to keep yourself from crying out in pain. The bullet was still there. 

You’d flinched when you heard his boots on the rocks of the riverbank, but he held his hands up. “Relax, it’s just me.” 

He didn’t say anything else for a while, just walked closer to you before sitting on a rock beside you and holding up a light. 

“Hold this.” He told you before taking a look for himself. You and Joel, at that point, had probably shared two sentences at most since first meeting. 

“Yeah, it’s still there. You able to stay still?” 

You nodded nervously. 

Joel just nodded. “Okay. This is gonna hurt so…take a breath.”

You did so and the next two minutes were the most painful you’d ever experienced outside of being sung the Happy Birthday song. 

Joel pulled it out and pressed a bound cloth to your shoulder before reaching down into the small pack he’d brought with him. Holding up a small needle and thread, he went to stitch you up but then faltered. 

You just nodded. “I trust you.”

He took that as enough confirmation to continue. By the time he finished, he leaned forward and snapped away the rest of the thread with his teeth before washing the cloth in the river and cleaning away the blood from his hands and your shoulder. From there, he moved the strap of your top back up to help hold the gauze and tape in place. 

After that day, watching Joel walk back up the stones and towards the smaller camp, you and him talked a little more. Until eventually you became friends. And out of everyone, you trusted him the most. 

And you figured he felt the same about you considering you were the only one he’d let touch him after he got cut. He’d assured Tommy he was okay, he’d yelled at Tess telling her he was fine, and everyone else had been warned away with a look. 

But that didn’t work with you. He wished it did, but it didn’t. 

You’d opened his apartment door, finding Tess and Tommy stood outside. Tess was growing more and more annoyed and Tommy was looking like he’d been punched in the gut. 

You didn’t have to ask them what happened, you just walked inside and for as much as they wanted to follow you inside, they didn’t. The door closed behind you and you found Joel standing inside the bathroom in front of the mirror trying to clean up his wound. 

“What the hell happened?” 

Joel found you looking at him through the mirror. “Nothin’.”

“Sure as hell doesn’t look like nothin’.” You marched into the bathroom to get a better look as he tried to swat you away. “You need stitches.”

“I can do it myself.”

“Go and sit down. I’ll do ‘em.”

You watched as Joel went to open his mouth to say something, so you took the cloth out of his hands and stood back. “Joel Miller, so help me god, you go and sit your ass on that sofa before I kick you into next week.”

It took him a moment, but he sighed. Anyone else would have backed down when he maintained their eye contact, but not you. 

“You know, I’m meant to be the patient here. Aren’t nurses meant to have a nice bedside manner?” He asked you as he walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa. 

You laughed as you ran the tap to clear the blood from the cloth before marching across the apartment and into the kitchen towards the kettle to boil some water. 

“Luckily for you, I’m not your nurse.”

You kept looking over your shoulder to Joel on the sofa who lay back and closed his eyes, trying his best to breath through the pain. Once the kettle finally finished, you poured the water into a bowl before carrying it over to the coffee table. 

“Lie down.”

Opening one of his eyes, Joel looked at you as you sat on the coffee table. You weren’t gonna budge. 

“Lie down,” you repeated. And with a heavy sigh, he did as he was told. 

From there, you lifted his top as far as you could get it before ringing out the cloth and shaking your hand to stop the burning. 

You hesitated. “This might hurt so…take a deep breath.”

He did so as you pressed the cloth to his wound. A deep grunt came from his chest as his hand shot out and gripped onto your wrist. “Take it easy.”

Looking from his face, to his wound, you gave a small smirk. “The man everyone fears in Boston and yet he can’t take a little hot water.”

“Are you always this heavy handed?” 

“You’re just sensitive to pain.”

“Why don’t we swap positions and see if it’s just me being sensitive to pain.” 

You chuckled. “Alright, alright. I’ll be lighter.”

You dabbed at his wound once more and he finally lay his head back and closed his eyes. “Happy?”

Joel just let out a noise from the back of his throat so you continued the way you were. “What the hell even happened?”

“Some bastard came out of nowhere and took a swing at Tess.” Joel grunted through his explanation as you continued to clean his wound before sterilising the needle. “I shot at him but he seemed to get there before me.”

“You’re gonna have to apologise to her, by the way. She’s probably still pacing outside that door.”

“I know,” Joel admitted. “I’ve heard her since she slammed the door.”

“She’s your girlfriend, Joel.” He looked at you. “Or whatever the hell you want to call it. Look, just apologise. She’ll forgive you.” Then you gave him a small smile. “You got stabbed for her. She can’t stay mad at you.”

Joel let out a small scoff in a laugh. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

“I’d say look away, but you’re gonna feel this anyway. So, countdown from ten?”

Joel nearly shot up. “From ten?”

But then you stuck the needle into him and he grabbed your wrist again, throwing his head back. “What happened to ten?”

“Surprise, I guess.”

“Surprise, she says. As if she’s not sticking a fucking needle into my skin.”

You rolled your eyes. “Quit whining. I didn’t complain this much when you did it.”

Joel grunted again and squeezed your wrist. “Just…take it easy.”

You did so and eventually you finished, wrapping the thread around your finger and pulling until it snapped. You cleaned the wound once more before shocking him and pouring a little alcohol over the top. 

He shot up when you did that and found a smile on your face as you screwed the cap back onto the bottle. “Now apologise to Tess.”

You stood and made your way towards the door. 

“Y/n.”

You looked back before opening the door. “Thank you,”

You nodded with a small smile. “Anytime, Miller.”

Opening the door, you told Tess he’d live before heading back to work. 

There were more moments like that over the years, but the more scars you gathered, the more questions that would get asked by those closest to you. But out of everyone, you trusted Joel. He never asked questions. Frankly, he already knew the stories to each of your scars having been the one to patch them up in the first place. 

So when you said you trusted Joel, you meant it. 

Kneeling up, he warned you before he pressed the cloth to your side where you groaned and gripped onto his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“I know, I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I trust you.”

Joel just nodded and continued what he was doing. Every now and again he’d feel your nails dig into his shirt as he cleaned your wound before he had to stitch it up. 

“Just a little longer.” 

You forced a hum to let him know you heard him. 

“Wanna lie down?”

You shook your head. “No. I don’t wanna move.”

“Can you lean back for me?”

It took you a moment, but you nodded. 

“Okay.” Joel guided you back carefully, his eyes on you as yours remained shut tight. “Take it easy. That’s it. This is gonna hurt.”

You shook your head. “Just do it. I trust you.”

Joel nodded even though you couldn’t see him. So, guiding your hand back to his arm, he held it down firmly. “When it hurts, just squeeze.”

“Joel, it’s a needle. It’s gonna hurt.”

“You trust me?” You listened to his question before nodding. “Then just squeeze. This is a deep one. It’s gonna take me a while.”

“Okay.”

As Joel inserted the needle, your body reacted, pushing up and gripping onto his shoulder. You tried your best to take deep breaths, listening to Joel’s voice as he told you where he was at, how close he was to finishing. 

“Just one more, okay?”

“Okay.”

Leaning over, Joel cut the threat with this teeth once more before leaning back, keeping his eyes on you to make sure yours were still closed before he poured out a little alcohol onto a dry cloth. 

“Take a deep breath.”

“Why?”

Joel pressed it to your wound and you sat up, your eyes going wide before shutting. Leaning forward into him, your hand gripped his shoulder tightly. He was sure to have bruises on his arm later on but if it meant you got through your pain, he’d live with them happily. 

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Please tell me it’s done.”

Joel nodded. “All done. But you’re gonna need a shower. Think you’ve dragged half of the forest back with you.” There was a lightness in Joel's tone, you only wished you could feel it in yourself more. 

Standing up, Joel threw everything into a pile before holding his hands out. “Come on, let’s go.”

It took ten minutes but eventually Joel got you to the bathroom and started the shower for you. 

“Think you’ll be okay?”

You nodded. “Should be. Thank you.”

Joel made his way out of the door, leaving it open a crack. “I’ll be outside the door if you need me, so just…call out.”

You nodded, thanking him once more before getting undressed and stepping into the shower. You watched as the water went from clear to filled with old blood, new blood, mud, dirt, a few leaves from inside your hair and eventually back to clear after you got completely clean. 

Once you’d towel dried your hair, you wrapped another around your body, you stepped out of the bathroom after standing in the middle of it for a moment, so many thoughts running around your head, none of them were clear enough to remember. 

Then you found Joel. He’d been sitting on the top step outside the bathroom door. He stood quickly and took a breath. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t have to. But when you took a step closer to him, you were mere seconds away from him stepping towards you and wrapping you in his arms. 

A hand in your wet hair, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head whilst his other hand held you against his body. “Thank you for helping me.”

“I’ll always help you.”

After a moment, you stepped back and nodded, wiping your eyes before he could see. But he’d already caught them. Extending his hand out to you, he brushed his thumb under your eye. 

“Come on, I left you some clothes in the spare room.”

You followed Joel towards the spare bedroom where he left you to get dressed. And once you were, you walked downstairs where you found Joel heating up some soup in the kitchen. 

“Ellie’s gonna stay at Tommy’s tonight.” Joel told you. “And you’re gonna stay here.”

“There’s enough room for Ellie to be here, too, Joel.”

He nodded as he placed a bowl of soup in front of you. “I know. But she’s an eavesdropper and I want the truth. This way, it stays between me and you.”

You knew it was a shit lie when you told him as much when you’d all met back up at the bottom of the hill. If it had been just the others, you could have hidden it well enough so they wouldn’t have noticed. But not with Joel. 

He was right through you. And he saw right through the lie. 

“It’s nothing, Joel.”

“Bullshit.”

“Can we at least eat before you start the interrogation?”

Joel eventually agreed. And so you ate in silence. Until you couldn’t take it anymore and hoped to distract him for a while. So, you asked about Ellie. About her school and her homework. You asked about his jobs working down by the gardens digging up new space for some more allotments. 

Before you knew it, the sun had long been set and you and Joel were sitting on the sofa just talking. Until finally a silence settled over you both and Joel’s hand came to your leg. 

“You’re gonna have to tell me sooner or later. Unless you really want to know how loud Ellie snores?”

“I really do.”

“Y/n.”

You took in a breath and sighed before sitting up straight. “Okay. But, you have to make a deal with me.”

Joel smiled a little. “I have to make a deal with you?”

You were being serious. “Yes. You can’t fly off the handle and it can’t leave this room between me and you. Promise me you won’t do anything.”

Joel got worried and then silent. 

“Promise me,” you pressed. 

“I promise.”

With a sigh, you started to explain. “It’s stupid really. It was before I met you and the others. I was travelling with this group towards Cincinnati. I’d met one of the guys one night and we…got close.”

“Got close?”

You rolled your eyes. “We were fucking, Joel. It wasn’t anything serious. Just a way to let off some steam. In fact it had been his idea to keep things casual. Anyway, one night a few of his friends wanted to raid this place. I had a bad feeling about it but…I went anyway. Turns out the place was FEDRA owned. So, I told them what I thought and walked away. I didn’t want to be another casualty for them. Pretty sure the only reason I’d lived so long is because I was someone’s girl.”

“What was his name? The guy you were…”

“Fucking?” 

Joel nodded his head. “Trevor, or Travis. Something like that. We didn’t exactly do much talking and this was over ten years ago. Anyway, that night I walked. Packed up what I had to my name, and left. A couple months later, I found an old farmhouse. It was in the middle of nowhere. No infected. For a while, I thought I’d been followed but when no windows busted in the middle of the night, I finally relaxed.”

 “Except, when I woke up in the morning, I heard footsteps. I had been followed, just not by infected. His friends, they’d spotted me by pure fucking chance outside another town and followed me. Guess it got too dark to continue following so they pitched out in the woods for the night.”

Joel sat up. “What did they want?”

“Apparently after I left them, Trevor, or Travis – he’d followed after me. Said he’d make me see sense. Only, he got chased by an infected somewhere outside the city. They blamed me for his death. Wanted revenge.”

“Did they…”

You shook your head but stood up and lifted the hem of your t-shirt which just so happened to Joel’s, before pushing down the band of your shorts. Carefully, Joel reached out and kept your shorts out of the way so you didn’t hurt yourself any more than you already had. 

His fingers were warm against your skin. 

“No, but they did get two slugs into me before I sent them limping away with their own bullets in their legs.”

Joel looked up at you before he dropped his hand, and you sat back down. 

“What does this have to do with today?”

“Remember your promise to me?”

Joel nodded. 

“Two of his friends are here in town.”

Joel went to stand but you kept your hand on his arm. “Joel. Don’t. It wasn’t them. They’ve got nothing to do with this. At least, nothing I can prove, anyway.”

“What’s that supposed-”

“Someone’s set up trip wires around my grid. I usually go further than we’re meant to on patrol. No-one else covers my grid, so someone has been watching me. At the very least, they’ve been asking questions. Must have tripped a wire and it threw out a knife.”

Joel took a breath. “Does anyone else know? About before Boston?”

You shook your head. “It was a long time ago. And to be honest, when I saw them, they didn’t seem to recognise me.”

“You can’t just go off that.”

“I know, but I have to take my chances.”

“What if they-”

You shook your head. “They won’t. I made sure of that. Once I hit the ground, I found all of their wires. Easier to see, I guess when you’re laid faced to the ground.”

You chuckled a little at that, remembering army crawling through the forest to pull all the wires and watching the blades fall flat to the floor. But that was a bad idea. 

“Take it easy. You probably need new bandages.”

Joel stood and walked towards the desk drawer before pulling out some fresh ones. 

“I’ll stand.”

Joel sat down on the sofa as you stood between his legs, lifting your t-shirt so he could unravel the old one. 

You hissed and he apologised. He was meticulous in unwrapping your bandages, being careful to not aggravate your wounds anymore than they already had been. And for a moment, his hand ghosted over your belly, his thumb tracing back and forth before he gripped onto your hip securely. 

“Joel…”

Looking up at you, Joel watched as you leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. He continued watching you as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your stomach, before pressing a few more to each wound, graze and finally the healing one on your side. 

You let out a shaking breath, your hand coming to the nape of his neck, your fingers running through the strands of his hair. 

Leaning back, his thumb brushed back and forth on your hip where he could feel the goosebumps popping up across your skin. 

Leaning down, leaving his hand on the back of your thigh to hold you still, he reached for the fresh bandage. 

“Lift your top.”

You did as he instructed and felt his fingers dance across your skin as he slowly wrapped the new bandage around your middle, being sure to keep it crossed over each other until finally he tucked it securely into place. 

His fingers wrapping around your hands, he let you lower your top as he stood, his body mere inches from you. You could see his chest getting tighter as he tried to control his breathing. Then you felt one of his hands trail up your body, your arm and finally settle at your neck, his fingers digging into the nape of your neck, whilst his other hand pulled you closer by your waist. 

Any control you had over your breathing was long gone out of the window. 

“We shouldn’t do this.”

Your voice felt too loud for how close you both stood, even if it did come out as a whisper. But you could still feel Joel’s hands fixed on your body, his palms moulding to each of your curves. 

“No, we shouldn’t.”

You could feel your breathing getting heavier. You forced yourself to catch it before you swallowed, starting to lean up on your toes as you held onto Joel for dear life. 

“One of us needs to walk away.” Joel told you. But you shook your head. 

“Don’t walk away. Don’t walk away.” Then you kissed him. 

Pulling him down, you landed back on your feet, Joel’s mouth hot on yours. Then his palms were under your ass, lifting you before your legs wrapped around his hips. With one hand firm under your ass, his other pushed your hair back from your face before he walked across to the cabinet behind you before he sat you down on it and had both of his hands in your hair, both of you becoming deaf to the back of the dresser that hit the wall.

Once again, Joel’s hands were on your hips pulling you closer until your legs wrapped around him once more. Then his mouth moved. It moved from your own, across your jaw and down your neck. Leaning away, your breathing became ragged as he found your pulse under his tongue. You were pretty sure by morning you’d have a large hickey as a blaring reminder of what pleasure Joel could just give with his mouth on your neck. 

Once Joel seemed satisfied with his work along your neck and jaw, he returned his mouth to yours where he only got a taste for more of you. From there, his hands ran through your hair until they finally got to the end of your shirt. Pulling it from under your ass, he pushed his hands underneath and carefully lifted it up your body before he broke the kiss and moved back to help you take it off. 

His mouth was back on yours in a second and the t-shirt you’d been wearing was thrown somewhere else in the room before you started tearing at the buttons on his shirt. Taking a little too long, Joel moved back and started undoing the bottom ones himself as you worked on the top ones. 

Once they were undone, he pulled the shirt off with your help before joining the t-shirt. His hand was back in your hair, pulling your mouth back to his. Nipping, licking and kissing your skin, he trailed his mouth back down your neck and across your collarbone whilst his hands unhooked your bra from the back. 

“So fucking beautiful,” his deep voice groaned before he pressed a kiss to the bow of your breast and lifted you from the dresser and carried you back to the sofa. 

Joel was careful when he lay you down on the sofa before he climbed above you, his knee slipping in between your legs. With one of your boobs in his palm, his fingers lightly pinched at your nipple as he kissed the corner of your mouth. A gasp left you and Joel smirked before watching you as he lowered himself down your body and wrapped his mouth around it, licking and sucking gently, hearing small moans escape your mouth. 

At the curve of your breast, he nipped at the skin a little before dampening the sting with his tongue and sucking just like he did at your neck. 

“Joel,” you moaned. 

Looking up at you from the bow of your breast, he pressed feather-like kisses. “Like that, baby?”

You swallowed thickly and nodded, feeling his tongue slip over your other nipple whilst his other hand travelled down the length of your body before hiking your thigh up so your leg wrapped around him. 

“Y-yes.”

You moaned again when you felt the hardness of him on your thigh. 

With his tongue trailing back up your chest before his hand cupped your cheek, finally allowing you to kiss him again, his tongue slipping inside of your mouth, tasting everything he could, his knee shifted. 

So grinding down, you took what you could. You could feel Joel smirk against your mouth. That fucker. 

“You want me already, Darlin’?”

Your breath became heavy in your chest and for a moment, Joel took in the sight of you. Plump lips from his kiss, growing hickies along your neck…

“You better plan on fucking me, Miller.”

Joel chuckled. “I plan on more than that, Darlin’.”

The way he looked at you in that moment, his eyes trailing your body, he looked like a man starved. And someone had finally put a meal in front of him. 

Slowly moving down your body, Joel’s hands eventually found your shorts and unfastened them before pulling them down your legs as you lifted your ass. 

Then he sat back, his hands stroking your thighs. “Fuck, baby.”

“Joel, please.”

Even just the thought of what he was about to do was turning you on. If he planned on doing anything like what he already had been doing with his tongue…

You moaned. 

Joel chuckled. “Since you asked so nicely.”

You let out a small squeal as he pulled you a little further down the sofa and pushed your thighs a little wider and further up. Then he took his time. His mouth kissing the inside of your thigh, taking extra time for the gash that rounded your thigh. 

Usually, anyone else who had gotten this far with you took one look at the scar and..stopped. 

But not Joel. 

“Fucking beautiful.”

Then he looked at you and for a moment his eyes softened before he pressed a softer kiss to the scar. It was only for a moment, but for you it felt like the whole world, because after that, he only continued. 

Kissing, sucking, licking, worshipping, loving your body in a way no other man had ever done. The scars didn’t turn him off or make him stop. The grazes didn’t make him falter in his want for you. In fact, he only added to them. But they were a lot more pleasurable to gain than your others. 

Finally, his thumb dipped under your panties, stroking through your slickness. “Fuck, your wet.”

Rushing back towards you, Joel’s mouth was on yours as his thumb parted the lips of your pussy before began circling your clit with a light pressure. 

Your moan was swallowed by his kiss. 

As you began to grind against his hand, Joel chased his own pleasure, too. 

“Fuck, baby.” Joel moaned into your ear. 

“Fuck, Joel.” You chased the feeling of his fingers, your body flexing under his. “Fuck.” You gasped, your hand gripping onto his bicep. 

“You’re so wet.”

Looking down from your shoulder, Joel removed his hand for a moment hearing you whimper but his own joined yours as he buried his face into your hair after seeing your wetness coat his fingers. 

Again, he was moving down your body, slowly pulling each side of your panties down your hips, his tongue tracing where they were. 

“Is this okay?”

“Fuck, yes.”

Then he tasted you. 

The moan he gave as he did so had you chasing the vibrations of his voice. You needed more of him. Bucking your hips, Joel’s tongue traced around your clit. 

“Open wider for me, baby.”

With his help, you opened your thighs wider for him before he sucked at your clit. With a gasp of pleasure, you sat up and your hand fisted at the back of Joel’s hair. His hands were rough under your ass, pulling you closer to him. 

Then his tongue entered you. His nose rubbing against your clit, Joel got a taste for all of you and if he wasn’t hooked before, he was now. 

You moaned his name over and over as you chased the pressure of him against your clit. “Joel. Joel, please. Ah, fuck. Joel. I’m gonna- Joel!”

Feeling the sensation take over your body, Joel drank up every last bit of you. When he finally came back up for air, he licked the last of you from his fingers before he kissed you. You could taste yourself on his tongue. 

“Hope you’re not tired, Darlin’, ‘cause I ain’t done with you yet.”

Pulling him closer to you, you kissed him again before you let him guide you into his lap. With your hands memorising every curve and muscle of him, your fingers started to undo his belt buckle before you finally got his jeans down his legs, as well as his underwear leaving him fully exposed to you. 

Joel just admired you as you straddled his lap once more, his fingers digging into your flesh as you rocked forward against him. 

With one hand already dancing across your skin, his other made its way back down to your core. Your arms over his shoulders, holding onto the back of the sofa, you leaned forward. 

“How many do you want, baby?”

Joel already entered one and you gasped before sighing, rocking against him as his digit curled inside of you. 

“One?”

He added another. “Or two?”

“Two.” A moan escaped you as he slowly pumped them inside of you and curled up. “Def…definitely two.”

As you rode Joel’s fingers, you could feel his cock in the side of your thigh, trying to leave it’s own bruise. 

“Fuck, baby.” 

Leaning down, you whispered into his ear. “Joel, I need more of you. I need you.”

There wasn’t much left for Joel to do other than guide himself into your entrance, his hands resting on your hips as he led you down the length of him inch by inch. 

Joel pushed the hair from your face. “Slow and steady, baby. Otherwise we’re gonna have finished before we’ve started.”

You laughed a little, and so did Joel. “Don’t you mean ‘you’?”

“As far as I’m aware, I’m the only one with self control here, Darlin’.”

You cocked a brow. “Oh really?”

Joel nodded and hummed. So, taking his face in your hand you leaned closer to his lips. 

“Maybe we’ve gotta do something about that.”

Taking a breath as you kissed him, Joel’s arms that had been resting on the back of the sofa started to tangle with your hair before moving to stimulate you in other places. 

“Hold on to the back of the sofa.” Joel told you before one hand slipped between you both and started rounding your clit and the other held the side of your neck before fisting the bottom of your hair. 

Then his mouth was everywhere. Licking, nipping, sucking – all whilst you rode his cock. 

“Shit, you feel so good.” Joel told you as he started to push up and into you more, the sounds of sex filling the room. 

Joel could feel you taking him in, your walls pulling him up as your slickness surrounded you both. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you swore. “Joel. I’m gonna come. Ahh, baby. Please. Fuck.”

Between his cock, his fingers and his mouth, you felt your orgasm building before your walls finally clenched around Joel as he let out his own orgasmic moan. Both of your movements became sloppy as the wave of your orgasm hit and you emptied around Joel as he emptied himself into you. 

You and Joel tried your best to catch your breath as you both remained still, his hand leaving your clit to hold you on him, at your hip. 

“Fuck.”

Leaning down you kissed him once more as his hands snaked around you, holding you against him. You felt his hand travel up your back before rounded down and flicking across your nipples once more. 

Finally he slowed and rested his head against your chest. And you both remained like that for a while until the feeling finally returned back into your legs, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. 

After cleaning up downstairs, Joel met you in the shower where his hands tangled between the wet strands of your hair and your back took on temporary imprints of the shower tile. And by the time you both woke up in the morning, your legs were still tangled with Joel’s from when you’d climbed back into bed after peeing. 

Once Joel finally woke up, you both lay in silence for a while, your nails trailing up and down his chest as his own fingers did the same on your arm. 

“How’s your side?” 

“I think the aching in my legs is distracting me.”

Joel smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. “Good.”

You kissed him back. “But I think my bandage needs changing.”

Joel nodded. “Grab a shower and I’ll go and grab you some fresh ones. The ones from last night should be dry by now.”

“Okay.” You kissed him. “But feel free to join me.”

Joel smiled and kissed your lips twice. “I plan on it.”

So, after an extra long shower, the feeling of Joel’s cock entering you from behind as he kept your hands pinned against the tile still fresh inside of you, Joel changed your bandage and you both finally got dressed. 

By the time Ellie and Maria came knocking on the back door and entering the kitchen, it was like nothing had changed. Ellie might not have noticed it, but Maria certainly did. 

“I brought you some antiseptic cream. Should help with the healing.”

“Thanks.”

Joel looked towards Ellie. “You had breakfast?”

Maria shook her head. “Tried to, but she wanted to see you as soon as she could.”

Joel nodded before sucking the bacon grease off his thumb. “Grab a plate. Maria, you staying?”

“No, best not. I’ve got a council meeting in twenty minutes.”

“Coffee to go?” You offered. 

Maria nodded, a little confused as she watched the picture play out in front of her. “Uh, yeah. That’d be lovely. Thanks.”

In front of her she saw Joel…happy. His eyes practically followed every movement you made before the eggs spat in the pan and he turned his attention back to his cooking. His hand at your hip as he rounded you to get into another drawer, your hand on his back as you passed him to grab a to-go lid from under the sink. 

The way you both looked at each other…it was the same as before but just…more. 

“Here you go.”

Maria smiled for a few reasons other than the coffee you handed her. “Thanks. See you guys later?”

You and Joel looked at each other, a little confused. “For what?”

Maria’s brows furrowed. Had you literally fucked the brains out of each other?

“It’s movie night.” Ellie told everyone. Joel looked at his daughter, his brain finally kicking into gear. 

“Right. Yeah, yeah. We’ll be there.”

Maria smiled. “Great. Well, I better run. Enjoy breakfast.”

Leaving, you turned back to Joel. “I completely forgot.”

“Same here.” He wiped his hands on a dish towel before transferring breakfast across to three plates. 

The rest of the day ran smoothly. Maria made sure to keep you and Joel at a distance from each other when helping set up. If the morning was anything to go by, both of your functioning brains disappeared when you were together. 

But she didn’t miss the constant eye-fucking across the room you gave to each other. Especially when the other wasn’t looking. 

And it was only when you and Joel passed each other in the supply closet you got a few moments together which each time got interrupted by someone calling for either one of you or someone making their way down the empty hallway towards the supply closet. 

That would be when you and Joel would jump apart and put an entire row of shelved between you both, you making small conversation as Joel turned his back, straightened out his mustache, grabbed the box he’d gone in for, slip past you, his hand patting or pinching your ass despite his eyes being fixed on the floor before he got an easy escape in order to cool down. 

And once you’d gotten back home, he did everything he’d wanted to do to you in the supply closet, at home. At least until Ellie walked through the front door, calling out for him telling him she was home. 

The routine you and Joel had set that night continued for almost a month. In between then, Ellie had worked out something had finally happened between you and Joel, as had Maria and Tommy. 

A few others around town had worked it out, too, though they never had full confirmation. 

Until the day came where you went missing. 

You had meant to pass by the school and walk home with Ellie since it was Joel’s turn to cook dinner. Only, when Ellie walked inside half an hour late and without you, Joel grew a little concerned as well as a little annoyed. 

You were never one to bail a plan, or even be late. So why weren’t you with Ellie?

“She didn’t show.”

“What do you mean she didn’t show?”

Ellie shrugged and dropped her bag by the door. “She didn’t show.”

Joel still fixed you a plate anyway. Maybe your work had run over. Only, the worry in the pit of his stomach seemed to grow more when he saw his brother. 

“Tommy, have you seen Y/n?”

Tommy nodded his head as he wiped down the bar. “Yeah, earlier. She covered Charlotte’s shift on patrol during dinner time.”

Even with taking the extra shift, you still would have finished in time to walk with Ellie. 

“Have you seen her since?”

Tommy shook his head but then called out for someone. A guy dressed in a dark coat walked over. “What can I do for you, Tommy boy?”

“You seen Y/n?”

The guy looked from Tommy, to Joel and Ellie. “Not since the start of patrol. But she should be back by now.”

“Why? What happened?”

The guy shrugged. “One of the fellas said she’d headed back early for something. She wouldn’t say what. They’d finished most of their grid so he finished up on his own and met us back at the bottom of the hill.”

“And you haven’t seen her since?”

The man shook his head. “I’m sorry, Joel. I haven’t.”

“Thanks anyway.”

He nodded. “If I see her, I’ll let her know you’re looking for her.”

“Thanks, Bryan.”

Tipping his hat, he walked away and back to his table. Then Joel grabbed his jacket. “Ellie, stay with Tommy.”

“Where are you going?”

“Check her house. Stay with Tommy,” Joel repeated as he saw Ellie go to stand. She reluctantly sat back down. 

He was outside your home in fifteen minutes. He called out your name but no reply came. Finding the spare key, he let himself in before looking around the place. Nobody. Then he checked his own home. Then the gardens, school, movie theatre and finally the bar again. 

“Find her?”

Joel shook his head. “No.”

But then he heard a laugh, and something dropped in his stomach. Turning around, his eyes made contact with another pair. 

You’d pointed out to Joel the men who you knew from before Boston. And there they sat, with a satisfied look in their eyes. 

“You looking for your woman, Miller? Or is she just fucking you like she fucked Travis?”

Joel was across the floor in five seconds flat, his hands at the collar of one of them. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

But he just laughed. Joel looked back at Tommy who just nodded to a side door. Everyone in the bar had gone silent, but he wasn’t worried about them. Ellie didn’t need to see what he was about to do. 

So dragging the guy with him, he pulled him through the swinging door, meanwhile Tommy and a few others surrounded the other friend before he could make a move to attack Joel. 

“The bitch should still be alive if you can find her in time.”

Mostly the guy just laughed in Joel’s face until Joel had him slumped on the floor and had him screaming with a knife in his knee. 

“You psycho fucker!”

Joel remained calm. “Where is she?”

“Like I’d tell you,” Joel stabbed him once more. “I’m gonna ask you one more time and if you don’t tell me, I’ll pop your fucking knee cap off.”

“Fuck you.”

Joel twisted the knife. “Okay, okay! She’s in the upper grid! She’s in the upper grid!”

Joel searched his eyes, turning the guy’s head from side to side. “If you’re lying-”

“I’m not!” He cried. “I’m not. I swear.”

“Okay.”

The guy calmed down a little. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

“So you’ll let me-” He screamed in pain as Joel shattered his knee. “Ah! Fucker! You promised.”

“I didn’t promise you a fucking thing.”

Joel stood and wiped the knife clean. “You and your friend better be gone before I get back.”

“How?! You’ve just broke my fucking leg!”

“Then crawl. Whilst you can still do that.”

The guy cried in pain. “You crazy fucker! You’ll pay for this! I swear, you’ll pay for this!”

Joel didn’t look back as he walked back through the door. “Call a fucking lawyer.”

The guy's screams of pain died away with the swinging of the door and by the look on the other guy’s face, he was shitting himself. 

Joel grabbed him by the collar. “You know where she is?”

He nodded. “Take me.”

“But-”

Joel shot him in the leg. 

“Alright! Alright!” 

Dragging him by the collar, Joel carried him outside and through the town. Meanwhile, Ellie sat and watched from the cover of the bar before turning to Tommy who came to her side. 

“He’ll find her.”

Tommy nodded. “Hopefully.”

But Ellie was adamant. “He found me. He’ll find her.”

Tommy didn’t know the full story about what happened after his brother and Ellie left Jackson the first time, but going off how he’d reacted to finding you gone and in danger and how he’d been on Outbreak Day with Sarah…Tommy had a feeling someone wasn’t coming back. 

After forty minutes, the guy lifted his hand, “She’s in there.”

The only thing there was a mound of dirt. The guy was already crying. 

“We buried her. She should still be alive-” He didn’t finish his sentence because the blow of the bullet at the base of his skull shut him up. 

And Joel got to work, shovelling piles of dirt as quickly as he could. 

“Joel!”

From the hill, a few others appeared with guns. “We heard a shot-” Then they realised. 

“Grab a shovel! Help me!”

And they did. 

Eventually, they hit a wooden box. 

“Joel, she’s here.” Bryan told him before wiping the thin layer of dirt from the edges where both himself and Joel stabbed at the edges with their shovels, using them as a crowbar until finally the top popped off. 

Seeing more light than before, your lungs seemed to rush with air quicker than you could breathe it in. Sitting up quickly, you felt a pair of hands on you. 

“Get off me! Get off me!”

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s me. Y/n, it’s me. Hey, hey, look at me.”

Holding your face in his hands, your vision cleared to find Joel standing in front of you. “J-Joel?”

“Hey.”

Joel helped you up quickly, pulling you into his arms as his back rested against the side of the grave, your sobs falling against his chest. 

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Bryan laid a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Take her home. We’ll take care of the rest.”

Joel nodded, his hand at the back of your head. “Come on. I’ll help you out.”

And he did. You were still shaking like a leaf. 

With his jacket over your shoulders, Joel held you into his side as you both walked back to town and towards home. 

“I’m so sorry, Joel.” 

Those were the first words you’d spoken to him since the morning when you’d kissed him goodbye. 

Joel shook his head as he was crouched in front of you, washing your face for you. Despite the shower, there still seemed to be dirt in your eyes. 

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

You nodded but he still had to tell you the same a day later when you woke up in his bed for the second time since he’d woken you up to tell you he’d be back in one hour. When you finally did pull yourself out of bed, you opened up the bedroom door to find Ellie standing to attention. 

Neither of you said anything but in a few moments, she ran towards you and hugged you. It wasn’t long before you both sunk to the floor. 

“I’m so sorry I was late.”

Ellie shook her head. “Are you going to be okay?”

You nodded. “Thanks to Joel.” You tried your best to dry your tears. “Where is he?”

“Still with Tommy. They’re still dealing with the guys that…” Ellie skipped over that part. “Everyone is on your side, and Joel’s side, too.”

You just nodded again. “Good.”

Then Ellie leaned forward and hugged you again before you both heard a familiar pair of boots walk up the stairs. “You’re awake.”

“I think so, at least.”

“I’ve got breakfast.”

The morning was mostly spent in silence until Ellie fell asleep tucked into your side of the sofa. Joel went to pick her up to carry her to bed but you stopped him. “Leave her.”

He did so and sat on your otherside, his arm resting around your shoulders whilst his hand brushed the back of Ellie’s sleeping head. 

“I’m so sorry, Joel.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. It wasn’t your fault. None of it.”

You shook your head. “No matter where I go, I seem to collect scars. And they never let me go.”

Joel pressed a kiss to your head before gently placing his other hand on your thigh. “You should be proud of them. They’re a sign you survived. They’re a sign you’re still alive and here. With us.”

Looking at Joel, all you saw on his face was sincerity. He truly meant it, and truly believed it, too. Leaning up, you let him kiss you gently before you settled your head against his chest. 

Maybe he was right. You knew he was right. You trusted he was right.

Especially when you’d come to learn of all the ways Joel could appreciate your survival, proving to you how you could appreciate it, too. 

[wrenwinchester]

Millie learned how to sew young. It was “easier” because she had smaller hands than her brothers.

She just liked the normalcy of it.

She would fix holes in their clothes, and even in the sheets on their beds if they were in a run down motel for too long.

Her love of fixing things only deepened when her father started having her stitch up his cuts, even as she watched him down the entire bottle of alcohol. She yearned to heal the pain the loss of her mother had inflicted. In another life, maybe she would have been a nurse.

When she was 10, she saw a magazine about embroidery, and learned everything she could about it. Dean got her some supplies. She started patching holes in her brother’s clothes with embroidery, sometimes they were flowers, and trees.

Other times, especially as she got older, they were protection sigils.

At 16, she stopped mending clothes, she was hunting with J*hn every other month, and it became more of a chore. She’d be sewing up her own wounds, or her brothers’ wounds. She didn’t need to be doing anymore. (Besides, between her and Dean’s odd jobs and the credit card scams, they could handle buying new stuff when they needed to.) She hasn’t touched a needle except to sew up a wound in years, but she yearns for a creative outlet, something, anything to ease her pain, but she’s burnt out and has no energy for it.

[saltpepperbeard]

I hope you find that. I think I have.

[pastafossa]

"Love Leaves A Mark" (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic, Pure Fluff)

I've been working on this for a bit to celebrate the release of our older Born Again!Era Matt, and happily I can say this one's now done, which means I can finish up another little oneshot I have and then get back around to The Red Thread's next chapter. This is written with TRT!Reader in mind, but I also tried to write it vaguely so it's easy enough to enjoy even if you haven't read that massive saga. Also if you'd like notifications when I post a new story, drabble, or chapter, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications!

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Wordcount: 3.8k

Warnings for this fic: None that I know of, they're just being cute and in love as they grow old together. There ARE some vague physical changes described that are standard in aging but that feels pretty normal.

Fic Summary: You and Matt are growing older together, and you're both loving every second of it, including the physical changes that come with it.

“Did you get more toothpaste today?” you called sleepily, lifting one leg to idly scratch at your calf with your foot. You worked your toothbrush over to the other side of your mouth, wrinkling your nose at the taste. Nine years you’d been using your husband’s toothpaste and you’d never gotten used to the flavor, or lack thereof. You’d be damned if you didn’t use it regardless, though. “And Mini’s food?”

“Picked up both.” The low rumble of his voice was sleepy and distracted as it drifted out of the bedroom. Outside the little brownstone you both now called home, the snow continued to fall in thick, heavy flakes, muffling the roar of the wind and the few cars still out on the street despite the late hour and travel ban. You were grateful for that storm. In all the time you’d been with him you’d never had a problem with the Devil’s nightly rounds. Loving Matt meant loving Daredevil, too. But you still treasured evenings like these when he was able to stay in with you, your purring, cuddly husband happily playing the role of your favorite blanket. “I may have also stopped at the bookstore and gotten you something on the way home.”

You paused, shifting your gaze meaningfully toward the open bathroom doorway. You probed curiously at the psychic connection between you, a subtle attempt to discern what it was he’d picked up for you. All you got was a playful nudge back. He didn’t even have to try all that hard anymore, smoothly deflecting you with all the ease of swatting away a pillow.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart.” His voice was an amused whisper in your mind. “You’ll have to figure it out the old-fashioned way.” 

You scrubbed faster at your teeth, grinning at his laugh in the other room. 

“I don’t know how you have any gums left considering how often you do that,” he mused as you leaned down to rinse your mouth out. You quickly shoved your toothbrush back into the penguin-shaped toothbrush holder before flipping off the light and padding out of the bathroom. 

“The benefits of genetic tampering,” you said dryly, joining him in the bedroom. He was already settled into bed, sitting up with his back against the headboard, a well-worn book beneath his hand. Down atop his blanket-covered feet, a large, round black void of fur had arranged itself into a perfect circle, no head or tail to be seen. Matt tipped his head as he tracked your eager circling of the room, the barest little smirk quirking his lips. You scanned around for anything new, hunting along the walls and the bookshelves that had managed to migrate their way into the bedroom once your shared office slash library had gotten too full. Books had a tendency to breed like rabbits between you and Matt. “Where?” “Your nightstand. I figured you’d probably want to dive in.”

You darted over towards your nightstand.

“No way,” you breathed, sitting down on your side of the bed and snatching up the first of the three new hardbacks he’d placed on your nightstand. “This one—I thought it was going to take another week at least before they released it. How did you…?” “I kept checking with Hanna every time I passed by her bookstore.” He cleared his throat as you flipped open your new copy of Dante’s Divine Comedy to a random page, the much-loved scent of new paper and ink filling your nose. “Eventually she took pity on me and finally let me buy this one early with cash. Although she wasn’t sure why you wanted this one when you have so many other translations already.” 

“It’s Palma’s new translation,” you murmured distractedly, dragging your finger down the flowing lines of poetry, your eyes skimming rapidly over the page. You could already spot some of the changes. “I have the first translation he did of the Inferno, but this is the first time he’s done the entirety of the Divine Comedy, and he’s tweaked his previous translation. It’s supposed to mimic the rhyming scheme Dante created more closely. Not easy when you’re shifting it from Italian to English. Dad’s going to have kittens when he hears the Devil got me my copy before he got his.”

Even without looking at him, you could feel Matt’s smug satisfaction. “You should call him so I can hear him swear.” “Call him yourself if you want to rub it in.” You snorted in amusement at Matt’s neverending desire to goad your adoptive father Ciro, who admittedly had a habit of goading back. At the very least their jabs had become less hostile over the years, the two of them now closer to sparring partners than actual enemies. You leaned over to look at the other two books Matt had gotten you, your brows shooting up. “And you got me Emily Wilson’s translations of the Illiad and the Odyssey? You’re spoiling me, husband dearest.” “You said last month you were thinking about picking them both up. I figured I’d check if they were there.” There was a rustle of blankets behind you, and a slightly irritated, ‘mrrp?’, presumably as Matt adjusted his feet beneath the fuzzy black hole curled up atop them. “Consider it an early anniversary gift.” “Not that I’m not grateful, but you and I both know it’s January, dear.” You set Dante back down atop the stack of books before swiveling on the bed to face Matt. You started crawling across the mountain of blankets and silk sheets toward his grinning form. “Our anniversary is months away.” “The anniversary of our first kiss, then.” His smile only grew wider when you reached him and threw your leg over him to sit astride his waist. It was something he welcomed as he always did, his hands setting aside his book immediately in favor of you. He slid his palms warmly up and down the fleece covering your thighs, pausing here and there to knead at the muscle just because he could. It never seemed to matter that he’d touched you a thousand times before. He treated every moment like this as if it were the first. “A few hardbacks are the least you deserve.” “Lines like that make me want to marry you.” You sighed, draping your arms comfortably over his broad shoulders, lifting one hand to idly card your fingers through his dark hair. He hummed beneath your touch, tilting his head openly into the fond drag of your fingers like a big cat. “Buying a woman hardbacks? In this economy? Put a ring on me, Mr. Murdock.”

“Now Mrs. Murdock, how would your husband feel about you saying things like that?” His voice was a playful purr, words thick and glutted thanks to the drag of your nails. You were pretty sure his eyes had rolled back behind his closed eyes. “He’d, mmm, hunt me down until his dying breath if I laid so much as a finger on you. As for me, my wife is… not inclined to let me go gently.” 

“You’re goddamn right I’m not.” You sprawled out against his chest, dipping your head. He met you halfway, touching his lips to yours. You gave him a warm, lazy kiss, faint traces of copper and cinnamon passed from his smiling mouth to yours. The familiar taste of him, the softness of his skin, the sweet warmth of his breath in your mouth soothed you in a way little else could, and you drew him deep into you on a slow inhale, humming against his lips. His chest rumbled contentedly beneath you in response, his hands sliding up from your thighs to squeeze and rub affectionately your hips. “And don’t you ever forget it.”

“Never,” he murmured against your mouth, chasing after you to steal another kiss when you tried to lift your head. You ran your fingers through his hair again, sighing at the soft, playful brush of his tongue against your lips, giving it a mischievous nip of your own that made him rumble another pleased noise beneath you. His voice dropped further, all lazy warmth and possessive hunger, shades of the Devil coloring the edges like a painter’s brush. “Mm, my wife, all mine.”                                     “Your wife,” you agreed fondly. “One who’s cut people before and will happily do it again if it keeps you safe.”

“Your services are very much appreciated.”

“They should be since I fully intend to sit in a pair of rocking chairs with you one day in our old age.” You brought your hand around to scratch your fingers lightly through the coarseness of his beard, making him groan breathlessly in delight, his back arching just a little beneath you. He’d been letting his beard grow in for the past week or so. You were unsure if it was by choice or if it was simply that he’d felt too busy to take the time to shave. It had been a while since you’d last seen him with a full beard, though, a few years at least. And to your pleasant surprise, there were a few changes. Your fingers petted curiously over the small patches of silver scattered around. “I’ve even kept you alive long enough that you’ve got grey here in your beard now. That’s new.” His brows rose in surprise, his eyes fluttering open where they’d fallen closed. “Really?”

“Yup. It’s very handsome.” You stroked at the prickly grey strands before your hands slid back and up to his temples, tracing the few strands of grey there just as affectionately. His cheeks had even turned the tiniest bit pink at your praise. “Some here, too. Just a little at your temples. You gonna be my silver fox, Matt?” “I guess so. That’s what I get for letting you pet all the color out over nine years.” He heaved a great sigh beneath you as if his care sheet instructions didn’t specify he get at least ten minutes of petting each day, without which he would wilt away. “You made me look old.” “Oh please. You don’t look old. You look human.” Your fingers left his hair so you could poke him pointedly in the chest. He threw you a wounded look, all furrowed brow and big sad eyes that you weren’t falling for even a little. “Also, you gave yourself those grey hairs, thank you very much. You’re the most stressed man I’ve ever met. Half of what you put yourself through would have turned anyone else’s hair white by now.”

“Fine. I’ll admit that I may have done… a few things that were somewhat stress—” “Got a building dropped on you. Fought Nobu in tissue paper. Got shot in the head. Used a neti pot to snort some fucking rusty tap water full of amoebas and tiny shrimp—”

“That last one still really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

“You have no idea. One day I’m going to kiss you and taste brain shrimp, I just know it.”

He snorted. “You say that like I don’t have my own list of all the things you’ve done that have almost given me a heart attack.”

“Alright, so my list is also… a bit long.” You tilted your head, watching his eyes shift absently around. After so many years with you, he was no longer self-conscious about letting you watch his eyes this closely, much to your delight. In the low light of the bedroom, his eyes were a soft, dark brown rather than the green or grey they could shift to during the day. Beautiful as always, especially with the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes, lines that now seemed permanent even when he wasn’t smiling. You brushed your thumb over a few of those lines, your playful tone falling away into something more serious. “What if I like it, though? These parts of you that are getting older? Like these laugh lines.”

He furrowed his brow pitifully. “Now you’re telling me I’m wrinkly, too?”

“Oh, fuck you!” you huffed, his body shaking beneath you as he laughed. “You know that’s not what I meant. Stop deflecting, I’m serious.”

“I’m know you are, even if you’re telling me I’m a grey, grizzled, wrinkled husk.” He groaned theatrically, rolling his head back. “You should just bury me if I’m that old.”

“Not a chance. Not when I love everything I’m seeing. Like these…” 

You leaned in and planted a kiss on the laugh lines in question, feeling them grow deeper under your lips as he smiled.

“And these…”

Another kiss, this time against one of the grey patches in his beard, making him sigh. 

“...and goddamn do I love all this, too,” you murmured, sitting back so you could drag your hands hungrily down the front of him. There was no part of him you didn’t love, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t just a little obsessed with the dark hair now edging up past his shirt collar—so much of it now that he’d finally given up on shaving his chest and let it all grow back—and the slightly thicker lines of his abdomen and hips, both of them a touch softer than they had been almost a decade ago when you’d first met him. You’d know; you’d been laying on him almost every night for most of that decade, barring a few rough patches and business trips.

“Mrs. Murdock,” he breathed in feigned shock, as if he wasn’t aware of exactly how much you enjoyed both his chest hair and the whole of his body from top to bottom, “are you insinuating something about me?” “You mean like insinuating I’m the reason you now eat regularly and aren’t so dehydrated that I can practically draw a map of your veins by sight?” You squeezed at the meat of his abdomen and hips greedily, your voice growing smug as you kneaded at him. Your touch made him chuckle and squirm beneath you, only drawing more protests from the cat trying to sleep on top of his feet. “Yes. Yes, I am. You’re welcome for the health, by the way. You’re aging like a fine wine, husband dearest. And it makes me happy.” 

His face softened at that, one hand leaving your hips to lay against your sternum. “If your heart wasn’t beating so steadily, I’d say you were just trying to flatter me,” he mused. “But… me getting older really is making you happy, isn’t it?”

“It is. I…” 

You paused for a moment, struggling to put into words what you were feeling. His hand at your hip edged up under your shirt until he could rub his thumb soothingly at your skin, content to wait while you figured out how to say what you wanted to say.

“I think it’s that… there was a time when I wasn’t sure if you’d live long enough for me to see you grow old with me.” You cupped his face in your hands, treasuring the way his eyes fell slowly closed and he leaned into your touch so openly, so easily. It had taken so much work to get him here, where he felt comfortable accepting your love and your affection, but it had been worth every ounce of effort. You traced over his laugh lines again with your thumbs before skipping down to the faint smile lines at the corners of his mouth, a mouth that pursed to kiss your thumb when you swept one over his lips. “But you did. I’m getting to see it. That’s special to me. I want to see that… that you’re still alive, that you’re living long enough for these things to happen. I want to see all these little grey hairs, and wrinkles, and the way your body has gotten a bit softer, because every little piece of you that gets older represents a moment I didn’t know if I’d get with you.”

He drew in a shaky breath before his eyes fluttered slowly open again. And in the dark of his eyes there was such a reverent joy, such a bone-deep love filling their depths that it almost took your breath away. You’d never tire of seeing it, even if you both lived for another fifty, another hundred, another thousand years, joined in this lifetime and in whatever came next. Religion had nothing on being loved fully, wholly by Matt. 

“I could say the same thing about you,” he breathed, his hand at your sternum sliding up to cradle your neck, thumb sweeping gently over the thin skin above your pulse. He pressed just a little, just enough to tug your skin back and forth. A moment later, he tugged you in until he could feather a kiss against your pulse where his thumb had been, lingering there as you nuzzled into his dark hair. “And spots like right here.”

“What’s changed there?” 

“The texture of your skin. How much it moves when I touch it. I like to think,” he whispered against your throat, “that your skin’s a little looser here now, more worn in, because I’ve stroked at it so much that I’ve changed you permanently. It’s a sign of just how much I’ve touched you, how many times you’ve trusted me and let me put my hands here. It’s never mattered to you how scarred those hands were, how covered in blood. You let my love leave a mark.”

He tightened his other hand against your hip next, taking hold of the curves that had changed as you’d journeyed through the years with him. “And you’re softer now, too, just like me.” From there he smoothed his hand affectionately upwards over your ribs and up past your breasts, mapping over all of the places your body had begun to show your age like his: stretchmarks and small wrinkles where once skin had been smooth and tight, scars from old battles now faded and ragged with time. The journey his hand took was made with reverence, tender and heavy with intent, his smile so very soft and almost… wondrous. “I may not be able to see you, but I can feel you growing old with me, too, sweetheart. More curves, a few wrinkles. It’s like I can feel your body sinking deeper and deeper into a life with me.”

“That’s what happens when love winds up being your gravity.” You leaned in to kiss his forehead lines. “A decade of being drawn in by you.”

“Mhm. And up here.” He shifted his hand at your throat to cup your face like you had his, his thumb tracing the corners of your eyes. “Laugh lines. Because our life’s made you laugh so much that it changed you. They weren’t there the first time I put my hands here. But they are now. Signs of how happy you are with me. And there are more every year, because you… love me enough to stay.”

“Hey, my Devil-Man,” you whispered, tilting his head up until your forehead could meet yours. He didn’t bother to hide the vulnerability in his eyes, this old wound of his. It was mostly mended now, when it came to you, but sometimes that furrowed scar inside his heart still made him ache. “Do you need me to remind you again? I’m not going anywhere, husband of mine. There’s nowhere you’ll go that I won’t follow.”

“I know.” His eyes fluttered as you stroked at his skin. His arms left your face until he could wind them tighter around you, pulling you in tight against him until his every breath became yours. That seemed to settle him some, the weight of you against his chest, especially when you dropped your head to his shoulder, nuzzling in against his neck. “That’s… that’s just it. With me, you see… moments you didn’t think you’d have because you didn’t think I’d make it. And I didn’t think I’d have this with you, either. A home, wrinkles, greying hair. Not because I didn’t think you’d live long enough, but… but because I never thought I’d find someone who could love me enough to stay this long. To love me this long. Long enough that I could feel you grow old with me.”

“Loving you has never been a chore, Matt.” You breathed in the scent of his skin, soap and the faint copper of blood, traces of cinnamon and just him. It was a scent you knew better than your own. You  lifted your hand to run your knuckles down his cheek, tracking your way through his greying beard, hoping that your touch would help your words sink in. He slid his hands up under the back of your shirt to drag his palms smoothly down your back, comforting himself with the feel of your skin as he tilted his head, listening to your heartbeat. It wasn’t because he thought you were lying, that much you knew. But he’d told you once he found the truth soothing when hearing something that might make him feel otherwise vulnerable. Something like this, this old wound of his, absolutely qualified. “And it never will be, no matter what comes at us. If you need me to remind you of that every day, I will. I’ll tell you that over and over again, until the day we die and get buried in matching coffins.”

“The same coffin,” he said quietly, tipping his head to nuzzle at your temple. “There’s a reason we took ‘Till death do we part’ out of our vows. No parting, even in death.” 

“Do they even sell double coffins? If so, I’m down.” “Even if they don’t, I’ll tell Foggy to make sure I end up in yours with you.” “I think I should end up in yours.” “Why?” “Because everyone will just assume your coffin’s extra heavy due to your goddamn audacity.” He burst out laughing beneath you, his body shaking and almost throwing you off him entirely. “I’m just saying,” you continued, trying not to grin as he choked out more laughter, “you live your life in a very particular way, man without fear. ‘Christ, why is his coffin so heavy?’ And our friends can just say, ‘well, you know, it’s Matt Murdock’ and it’ll explain everything. No one will notice me shoved in underneath you so you can lay on top of me forever.” 

“It’s a date,” he said, still huffing in amusement. A pointed paw tapped at your back before starting a walk up your spine. “Speaking of which, looks like someone’s eager to get in on the cuddling.” “Behold, offer to cuddle and both Matts will appear,” you snorted as roughly twenty pounds of scarred black cat trod his way stubbornly up and onto your shoulder, rasping out an indignant meow that sounded like he’d been smoking a pack a day for the past seven years, because how dare the two of you do this without inviting him. “I’m about to be sandwiched, I think. Hello, Mini-Matt.”

Sure enough, Matt’s smaller clone enthusiastically rammed his head against your temple, making you grunt, before doing the same to Matt’s chin. He was already purring like an old motorcycle engine in a request to get in on what seemed like a nice, cozy cuddle pile, as if Matt would ever turn the cat down. Sure enough, Matt leaned in, planting a kiss to Mini’s big fuzzy forehead before turning and laying a much gentler kiss on yours as Mini draped himself over your shoulder, stretching one paw out to pat Matt's face. “Something tells me you don’t mind, though.”

“Not even a little.” 

[remitro]

for like. the past two years i've had two ctubbo designs there's the ACTUAL one i use and then. WHATEVER IS GOING ON WITH THE OTHER ONE??????? i never really post the other one but i wanted to release it into the wild just like. once LUL

[marvelwitchergilmore]

New Normal

Summary: River Cartwright x Fe!Reader -> You have kept your reason for being at Slough House a secret from everyone, including River. But what happens when you finally decide to tell him the truth?

Disclaimer: Oblivious idiots in love + best friends to lovers. Mostly fluff, Spider being a creep, mentions of protective River, Lamb telling him to get his act together, Lamb and Standish being River's mum and dad (kinda), swearing, mentions of blood, broken glass and River patching up Reader. Not Proof Read.

“Where’ve you been?”

You didn’t look at River as you entered, walking over to your desk to dump the rest of your things beside the extra large pile of files. “Shops.” From one of the shopping bags, you searched until you reached the bottom and pulled out a packet of period pads before rushing off towards the bathroom. 

By the time you came back, you found the extra large pile of files down to just a large. “Did you-”

River shook his head. “I was almost finished.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” River had to do a double take as he looked at you. “What happened to your hand?”

You looked at it, not that you needed to. It was still throbbing. “Oh.” You shook your head. “Nothing.”

River stopped whatever he was writing. “It doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Well, it is.”

Sighing, he pushed himself back from his desk before he walked towards you, taking your hand in his so he could look at it. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Does it hurt?”

“I’ll be fine,” you told him, trying to pull your hand away but he wasn’t going to let it go. 

River just simply looked at you. “That’s not what I asked.”

You didn’t say anything much after that considering River mumbled something under his breath before dragging you towards the kitchen. 

“River, I told you I’m okay.”

“Your hand is bleeding.” He pointed out before pulling out an ice pack before wrapping it in a tea towel and pressing it to the back of your hand. You hissed. 

“And it’s swollen. So, either you’ve punched a wall, or you’ve punched someone.” River watched you for a moment. “So, who did you punch?”

You looked directly at him, but he saw right through you. “Nobody.”

“Ah, so it was someone.”

With a small grumble, you pulled your hand away, taking the ice pack with you. “It was no-one. I just…look, nothing happened, alright? Can you just drop it?”

You didn’t give River a chance to reply since you were already making your way back to your desk to get on with the large pile of paperwork. River himself returned to his desk twenty minutes later to grab his jacket. 

“Where are you going?”

“Lamb wants me to drop a file off at The Park.” River didn’t seem too happy about the idea, but he was going anyway. “Apparently I’m to drop it off with Spider.”

You just rolled your eyes and looked back at your desktop screen. “That dick.”

“Want me to tell him you say hi?” 

“Fuck no.”

Your reply allowed River a small smile. River hated Spider a lot. Nobody could have hated him more. Except for maybe you. And River was just about to see how much more because by the time he’d dealt with another arsehole of a waiting time, he was met with Spider. 

Who’d gained a black eye and a swollen nose since the last time River had seen him. And his wounds looked fresh. 

It was safe to say River came back to the office laughing. But he waited until the end of the day before asking you what he’d been dying to all day. 

“So, what did he do?”

“What did who do?”

River couldn’t help but smile. “Spider. He’s got a black eye and probably a broken nose. Did you do that in just one punch or did you take a couple of swings at him? Maybe I can get Roddy to find the footage.”

“River.”

“Did it feel good?”

You couldn’t hide your smile at his question. “Yes. If you must know, it did. I’ve been waiting years to do that.”

“Can’t you get fired for punching a fellow colleague?”

You shrugged. “Maybe, but I’m already at Slough House. And it’s not like I’ve done any-” 

You stopped yourself before you could talk anymore. 

“Not like you’ve done what?” River pressed. “Wait, what did you do?”

You shook your head. “Nothing, forget I said anything.”

“No, no. You were just about to tell me why you’re in Slough House, weren’t you?”

You shook your head. Ever since you and River were sent to Slough House, you’d not said a word about why you were sent there. Of course, River’s was due to a mistake that nobody higher up the chain wanted to recognise was exactly that; a mistake. Going off the intel he was given, River did a good job. 

But you never explained why. 

Not to anybody. Not even to River. Of course, Lamb knew. He had to know. But you’d, indirectly, sworn him to secrecy surrounding your departure from The Park. 

“Y/n, what did you do?” River seemed more concerned than earlier. “What was so bad that you punching Spider, despite how thankful we both are that you did it, isn’t going to get you fired?”

Finally your bus pulled up and you got on, leaving River standing where he was. “Goodnight, River. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And you did see him the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that. And at no point did he seem willing to let go of your secrecy surrounding why you were at Slough House. 

Until the day came where you finally told him. 

It was almost a year later and things within Slough House had been, to say the least, hectic. One raid, three broken windows, a spray of glass and a whole lot of pain later, you found yourself laying on the concrete floor of an abandoned warehouse after being sprayed with shards of glass. 

And one larger piece had lodged itself into the top of your thigh. 

Trying to keep your breathing steady, you tried to stand but your body wasn’t willing to take anymore pain. 

A whimper left your body as you moved to push yourself to sit up a bit further. Then you heard footsteps. 

“Y/n!”

“Down here!” 

River could already hear the hurt in your voice and as he ran down the stairs and finally made his way to you, he stopped himself for a moment. “Oh, shit.”

“I-I need your help. I can’t move my leg without cutting it…it deeper.”

Swallowing his fear, River nodded and got closer to you. “It’s okay. Just grab onto me. I’m gonna pull you up. Countdown from three?”

You nodded quickly and before you knew it, you were on your feet. 

“Think you can stand?”

You took a moment before nodding and went to take a step. “I think-”

Throwing your arms out to reach for the metal bars beside you, you tried to steady yourself as your legs buckled from underneath you. Only, you were too far from them and you found yourself in River’s arms. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Take it easy.” River looked around him. There was no way of getting you out with you walking. He turned back to you. “I’m gonna lift you.”

“River, no-”

“Shut up and just put your arm around me. Now, it’s going to hurt but the quicker we get out of here, the quicker we can get you home, okay?” Placing your arm around the back of his neck, River counted down once more for you to be able to brace yourself for the pain you were about to feel. 

“One.” With his hand at the crook of your legs, he lifted you and you bit back your cry of pain. You were just thankful the glass hadn’t cut any arteries. 

“Just breathe, just breathe.” River told you over and over as he carried you out of the building. And by the time you both got out, he carried you over and opened up the car door before setting you inside before finally he got into the driver’s seat. 

“Do you want me to take you to the hospital-”

You shook your head. “No. I can fix this myself at home. Don’t take me to the hospital.”

River didn’t need to be told twice and you were home in half the time it took to get to the warehouse. He helped you out of the car and into your house before making his way towards your bathroom where you told him to grab the stool and set it under the shower. 

“What?”

“Just do it.”

He did so in time to turn back and help you step into the tub and sit down before you turned the shower on and grabbed the head of it to clean your leg, watching the blood of the day wash away down the drain, along with smaller shards of glass. 

Once it seemed clean enough, you turned the water off and opened up the draw beneath the sink and grabbed a pair of tweezers. You took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm yourself but River could see your hand still shaking. 

“Here.” Wrapping his hand around yours, he took the tweezers from you before taking off his shoes and socks, stepping into the bath with you and kneeling in front of you. “Let me do it.”

“River.”

“It’s okay. Just keep looking at me.”

You weren’t looking at him, but rather at the glass sticking out of your thigh. “I’m really scared.”

River lifted your head until you looked at him. “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.Look at me, you’re gonna be okay. Just keep your eyes on me. That’s it. Just look at me. Don’t look anywhere else but at me, okay?”

“Okay.”

River took one of your hands and laid it on his shoulder. “Just squeeze my shoulder when it hurts.”

“Okay.”

It took him a minute to make sure he could pull it out safely in one go, but once it was out, he felt your fingertips dig into his shoulder as your other leg came up. “Ahh.”

“It’s okay. It’s out. Can I clean it?”

You nodded, your eyes shut tight. “In the-in the drawer, there should be some, uh, some wipes and things for first aid.”

River nodded even though you couldn’t see him and he reached over to open the drawer up. 

“This is gonna sting, but I’ll try and make it quick.”

You nodded, not hearing anything after the word ‘sting’. “Try and make it quick.”

“I will.”

Your fingertips in his shoulder and arm became a constant that River forgot about until you let him go. 

“Lean forward,” River instructed you as he stood up, his jeans wet from the newly cold shower water. “You’ve got glass in your hair.”

From your back, River lightly pulled the bobble from your hair before pushing your head forward and rushing his fingers through your stands to help shake out any glass that was left. 

“Thanks.”

“Come on, I’ll make us some tea.” River offered you his hand as he stepped out of the bathtub. You took it and landed on the bathmat beside him. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Sore.”

River just nodded, brushing a hand over your head before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Come on. Let’s go downstairs.”

He led the way but you told him to go ahead since you were slower than usual getting down the stairs and by the time you reached the kitchen, the kettle had nearly finished boiling and River had already started making some food. 

“Your chicken runs out tomorrow.”

“Didn’t know it was planning an escape.” You pulled out a chair before sitting down, and when River brought your cup of tea over, you thanked him. 

“Careful, it’s hot.”

“Thanks.”

And for a while, the kitchen was mostly silent, save for the sound of the oven and pan, as well as the sound of River softly swearing as the oil spat onto the back of his hand. And despite the immense pain you were already in, you laughed a little. 

“What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

“Really? About what?”

“That despite all this pain, watching you cook in my kitchen and burn yourself with a piece of chicken isn’t something I’d ever want to change.”

River opened up your kitchen window. “Can we change me from getting burnt by chicken?”

“Steak then.” 

River gave you a short look. “That’s not what I meant.”

You smiled as you took another drink of your tea. “I know.”

But River just smiled over his shoulder. If he was being honest, he wouldn’t change anything either. He might change you nearly getting killed, but other than that, he wouldn’t change much. But he still found himself asking a question that he was expecting the same answer from, but this time you shocked him. 

“Would you change working at Slough House?”

“No. Especially considering I chose it.”

River slowed down as he walked over to the dinner table with two made up plates of food. “What?”

The information had slipped from your tongue before you could do anything about it. “What?”

“You chose Slough House? Why?”

You couldn’t break River’s gaze as he sat down and you shifted in your seat. You had said it. There was no backing away from it. Maybe it was time you told him anyway. 

So, taking a breath, you figured you start from the beginning. Sort of. 

You hadn’t been there on River’s training exercise, but you’d heard enough about it and knew enough about the people involved to figure out who was telling the truth. 

“When I got word about your departure to Slough House, they told me who I’d be working under. They took me into Webb’s office and told me what I’d be doing, where I could go with it, what my pension and pay would be like and I couldn’t help but hate every single one of them. I couldn’t spend the next fifty years of my life dealing with those sanctimonious pricks. There was only one person who I wanted to work with and he was transferred out. So, I asked to be transferred with him.”

River was silent for a few minutes. “You transferred because of me?”

“No. Well, yes, I suppose so. But, also no. I transferred because I didn’t want the years I’ve put into this job to be for nothing.”

“And you think they’re something at Slough House?”

You shrugged. “Say what you will about that place, in comparison to Spider and his fucking trap, Slough House seems to be one of the few places on this earth where I’m not being wasted. River, I’d rather work with you and do today a thousand times over than work under Spider for eight hours.”

Cutting up your food, you began to eat, and so did River. 

“So what happened when you punched him? Is that why you weren’t worried? Because you’d chosen to come here?”

You nodded. “Good memory.”

“I think I’ll still be thinking of that moment on my deathbed.”

You chuckled a little. “Yeah. Considering I hadn’t actually done anything to get me sent to Slough House, punching Spider would be the first thing to get me sent out of The Park.”

“So why did you?”

“Why did I what?”

“Punch him.” River clarified. “Come on, it can’t be for nothing. Well, it could be and I highly doubt people would blame you but…there’s got to be a reason.”

You looked at River, debating on whether you should tell him the truth or not. 

“He stepped over the line, so I decked him. Offered me a job, not only back at the park but with him. He got too close and too creepy, even for Spider.”

River felt himself tense at your explanation. “Good, I’m glad.” You looked at him. “Not at him being creepy. At you decking him.”

You nodded and stabbed your fork through a piece of chicken. Of course, what you left out of the story was everything else Spider had said to you when he spotted you in the store. 

You’d run in for some packets of pads, a box of snacks, and a few other bits. No part of you wished to stay in the city longer than you had to. All you wanted to do after work was go home and sleep until your body decided to stop punishing you for not being pregnant that month. 

Only, as you rounded one of the shelves, you were met with James Webb, aka Spider. 

“In a rush to get back to the Slough House? Or just in a rush to get back to your boyfriend?”

“Excuse me?”

Turning around, you found Spider smiling at you. “I know how much you care for him. For River. But, does he really care for you? I mean, does he even know what you did for him? Transferring to that shithole, just to stay with him. Does he know what you gave up?”

“Did you just follow me and prepare a speech to give to me? And they say it’s boring at Slough House.”

He just barked a laugh. “Just to think, you could have been working with me.” He stepped closer. “In more ways than one.” He made your skin crawl. “That could still happen, you know.”

“Fuck you, Spider.”

He stepped closer again. “Just say the word-”

“I’ll be doing a lot more, nevermind saying it, if you come any closer.”

“And I can get you back to The Park. You know, we’ve got a few openings you could take. Good money, good people, good office. Nice and quiet. Just think, you’d have me instead of Cartwright.”

“I know,” you answered. “The thought knocks me sick.”

Something stirred in Spider, but your next comment sent his thoughts straight to the gallows. 

“Getting up to go to work and see your face everyday? Fuck, no. I’d rather have no job at MI5 than simply work for you.”

Then his hand landed on your hip. “You don’t mean that. Think about what I can give you, what I’m offering. A life away from Slough House. A life away from someone who doesn’t see what you’ve given up for him.”

“You have three seconds to remove your hand before I do something you’ll regret. Three.”

“Like I said, good money.”

“Two,”

“Good people.”

“One.”

“And a good office.”

Instantly, your fist made direct contact with his face and he was sent stumbling back into one of the shelves, a few tubes of hand cream and bottles of face wash falling onto the floor. 

“I warned you and you didn’t listen.”

Turning around, you placed your stuff into one of the bags before leaving the itemised list you’d brought in with you on the counter and left a twenty pound note. “Keep the change, it should pay for anything that broke.”

The cashier just nodded and you left, but not before hearing Spider’s voice. 

“You’ll regret it one day! You’ll regret choosing them!”

“Fuck you, Spider.”

The doorbell jingled behind you as you left and made your way back to Slough House. 

Once you and River had finished tea, he’d helped you into the sitting room where he sat beside you and you leaned on him, keeping your leg still so the bandage he’d helped wrap around your leg wouldn’t become flooded with blood. 

“Anything good on Telly?”

You chucked him the remote. “Have a look.”

By the time River did find something to put on, you were quickly falling asleep at his side and when he eventually adjusted himself, sinking into your sofa a little more, your weight against him became a little heavier. 

Looking down, he found you fast asleep on his chest and considering the day you’d both had, he didn’t want to wake you. So, turning the telly down and pulling a blanket off the back of the sofa, he covered you up and rested his arm around you. 

Eventually, he fell asleep himself, his breathing evening out to match yours. However, at some point in the night, he must have laid down, twisting until you were pressed between himself and the back of the sofa. 

It wasn’t until the intro of the news rang out through the room that either you or River stirred awake, however when River found someone standing above himself and you, he shot awake. 

But it was just Lamb. 

He turned the TV volume back down. 

“Don’t you two look cozy.” Lamb said before throwing the remote onto the other sofa. “God, waking you two is like trying to wake the dead.”

You moved to open your eyes but then closed them again and rested your head back on River’s chest. You felt like shit, and your entire body was riddled with pain. Lamb could yell at you all you liked, you weren’t ready to deal with the morning. 

“How did you even get in?”

“Well, her passkey isn’t exactly that hard to crack.” Lamb explained. 

“I change it every week,” you gumbled from where you were laying down. 

“10-5-9.” Lamb called out. “Considering it's closest to your birthday and she can’t put in the same code as the last two, I took a guess.”

“Why are you here?”

Lamb stood back a little, hearing your tone. “Aren’t you the perfect morning person! If you must know, I came to make sure you two weren’t dead. I’ve already been around all the hospitals asking about you, then Standish just so happened to tell me that you don’t like the fucking things.”

“Why did you just track our phones?”

“I would do that, except Ho can’t track you when your phones are dead. Just your last known location and since you weren’t at a hospital, or a public library, I figured I’d come here. Glad to see you’re not actually dead.”

Lamb sighed. “Well, since I’m here, I’m making a drink.”

“Tea is in the pot.”

“Got anything stronger?” Lamb asked as he made his way to the kitchen. 

Carefully, River slipped away from you and off the sofa but you just groaned. “Careful.”

“Sorry. I’ll get you some paracetamol.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s not even nine!” River called out after Lamb as he met him in the kitchen. 

“Does she have coffee here?”

River gestured up to the cupboard before deciding to make it himself. “Up here.”

“Ooh, you seem to know your way around.”

River rolled his eyes. “She’s lived here for years.”

“And it’s not your first time staying over?”

River didn’t get a chance to say anything. “Relax, the others already know.”

“Know what?”

Lamb for the second time was taken aback. “I know I’m old but I’m not fucking blind. Well, not that blind.”

“Blind to what?”

River filled the kettle with cold water before setting it to boil. 

“I have two agents that came into Slough House go missing together, and then I find them all cozy and snuggled up together, giving off all the signs it’s not their first time to be in such a position. What do you think I’m not blind to?”

River shook his head. “We’re just friends.”

Lamb just laughed and shook his head. “Neither of you have been just friends for a long time. Even if you haven’t done anything about it yet. And I would, if I were you. It’s not every day your best friend turns out to be the one decent human being you’d prefer to spend the rest of your life with.”

Pulling out his packet of cigarettes, he started making his way out of the kitchen. “I thought you wanted coffee!”

“Like you said, it’s only nine. Maybe the pub on the corner is finally open. Y/L/N, if I see you or Cartwright before Monday morning, you’re both fired!” River met him by the door, your spare set of keys being thrown at him. “In the meantime, maybe do something about that before someone else does.”

As Lamb walked back down the street and towards his car, he slipped into the driver's seat and watched the door to your home close. 

“So, were they together?”

Lamb looked at Standish. “Don’t you have anything better to do with your time than trying to set those two up?”

“What’s so wrong with wanting them to finally admit the truth to each other?”

“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it.” Lamb defended himself. “Jesus, Standish, do you really think I’m that heartless?”

Starting his engine, he pulled away down the street and back towards Slough House. Meanwhile, inside your home, you’d finally taken some painkillers and found River back by your side. 

“What did he want?”

“What?”

“Lamb. What did he talk about in the kitchen?”

“Oh, nothing. Just work.”

“Just work?”

River nodded, his mind still turning over his last conversation. It wasn’t the first time someone had told him about his affection towards you, after all he had the same conversation with his grandfather anytime he saw you with his grandson. But it was the first time he had thought about what would happen if he opened himself up to admitting the truth. 

“What would you say if I asked you on a date?”

You were silent for a moment before you lifted yourself up from his chest to look at him. “What?”

River shook his head. “Nothing. Forget I said anything, I shouldn’t have said it. Where’s the remote? There’s gotta be something other than the news. Shit, it’s over- I’ll get it-”

River went to get up but you pressed a firm hand on his chest. “Repeat it.”

“What?”

“Repeat what you just said.”

River leaned back, a little defeated. “Please don’t make me.”

“Just..do it.” 

River sighed and found just enough courage to look you in your eyes. “What would you say if I asked you on a date?”

You couldn’t help but smile a little. “Are you nervous?”

“No. Maybe. A little. Why?”

“Because you’ve gone red,” you smiled, pressing a light hand to his cheek. Under your hand you could feel River’s own smile, despite him turning his head. 

“Ugh, forget I said anything.”

“Ask me properly.”

River looked at you. “What?”

“If you want my actual answer, ask me properly.”

“Really?”

“Really.” 

You could see River assessing you as he sat up a little before he finally decided to ask you properly. 

“Would you want to go on a date with me?”

River’s heart had never beat so fast or hard in his chest. Part of him felt like his lungs were about to collapse as you looked at him, slight wonder in your eyes and your smile soft on your lips. 

“Yes. I would.”

Your answer nearly blew River out of the water, especially since in the two seconds of silence he’d convinced himself you were just doing this to reject him or let him down easy. 

“W-What? Really?”

You nodded. “If you’re actually asking, I’d love to.”

“I, uh, I-Yea. Yeah. Sorry, yes. Yes. I’m-I’m asking. Really, you would?”

You nodded, laughing a little at his reaction. “Yeah. I would.”

“Okay, then.”

You smiled. “Okay.”

“I don’t know where to go from here.” River soon admitted. “I didn’t think this far ahead.”

“You can kiss me if you want to.”

Reaching out, River pushed your hair behind your ear. “I think I’d like that.”

It took a moment, but finally, with your head in his hands, River kissed you. And once you stopped, you both couldn’t help but laugh a little. “This feels weird.”

“Good weird or bad weird?”

You nodded. “Good, weird. Definitely.”

River smiled. “Good. It feels the same for me, too.”

With your hand against his cheek, you pulled him in to kiss you again. It would be another day before either of you would leave your house since the cut on your leg meant immense pain if you walked more than up and down the stairs once every couple of hours. 

But in the meantime, you’d both come to find what felt like a ‘good weird’ was no longer weird but just simply good. Like it was always meant to be the norm between you both. 

And it was safe to say everyone else was glad you’d done something about it since Cathrine, who couldn’t wipe the smile off her face, knew the minute you both walked into work on Monday morning. Roddy found out the hard way when he decided to flirt with you a little too hard in front of River, which resulted in River kicking Roddy’s chair before standing in between both yourself and him. Of course, Lamb swore a thanks to God the minute he walked out of the room, letting the others in on what was going on. 

But either way, it became a new normal and eventually you’d tell River the full truth about why you’d punched Spider. Or, maybe not considering his reaction at your kitchen table when you told him only half of the story. Either way, both you and River were thankful for your new normal, and nothing would ever change that. In fact, everything that Slough House threw at you both only brought you closer together. 

[violent138]

I like the idea of Alfred teaching Dick how to patch up bullet wounds.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 17

"Jaskier, no! Keep your eyes open!" "I'm- I'm getting so tired, Geralt..." "You can rest soon. Now, talk to me." "G'rlt..." "Talk, damn it!" "..." "Jaskier, please, PLEASE. Stay awake! Fuck- Sing for me. I need you to sing for me, Jask." "...You want to hear me sing?" "Yes, yes, I've never wanted to hear you perform more than now."

If Geralt wasn't currently stitching up Jaskier's profusely bleeding wound, he'd find the time to sob in relief at the sound of fucking Fishmonger's Daughter.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ ~!PROMPT FILLS!~ @the-mightier-pen https://archiveofourown.org/works/56575861

[qhideduo]

If you trusted me so much you would've given me the knife, not him 🙄😒

(Based on this clip)

[madaqueue]

guys im sorry but bleeding lips are so hot

[halfbaked00q]

im not super big on android or cyborg AUs but I also feel a burning NEED for situations and or scenarios where Q has Bond cracked open and is rummaging around in his insides. could be repairs, could be upgrades, could be routine maintenance. metaphoric situations like this work for me, too, but just. I Need something

[dadsonisms]

Hmm. Vigilante uncle who lets me clean up his wounds after a fight. Grinning around a busted lip when I fuss over him and chastise, “you should be more careful!” and letting me dab rubbing alcohol on all his cuts. Vigilante uncle who notices me wincing and worrying about him and telling me he got all the bad guys, he’s so damn strong, nothing will ever get through him. Vigilante uncle who slings his strong arms around my waist and pulls me close, murmuring a “I’m a lucky man, yeah? I’ve got the best nephew. My boy takes care of me so good,” while I rub ointment into his skin. Vigilante uncle who turns his bruised face to kiss my palm and thanks me for taking care of him. Vigilante uncle who holds me so tight when he finally falls asleep because he wants to keep me safe forever.

[nana2009]

im soooo curious about karkats eye, please give us details!!

thanks for the curiosity! i've meant to post the backstory of it with a comic, but since the questions are popping up i'm giving you guys some relief of mind by resuming some of it.

first of all, it was a very intense brawl. like, one of the worst ones. It likely started with dave catching karkat trying to flee again as the door was still unlocked, and that made him so upset he threatened karkat with a dagger(but it was just that, an empty threat out of desperation.) but karkat thrashed so much, he managed to escape and fled since the door was still open.

needless to say dave was faster, so karkat had the brilliant idea of running.....straight to the woods. he was panicked and scared! he needed to throw dave off to search for help!! but it failed, and dave had him pinned once again. lots more of fighting and thrashing and wiggling around and them SLASH! right at his eye! >:O

dave obviously began apologizing when realizing what he had just done while karkat screamed bloody murder because his right eye was stabbed and there's blood dribbling on his face and it's such a blinding pain he can feel his brain try to shut down while dave's voice annoys him and AAARGGHHH!!!!!!

of course they can't go to a hospital, silly! because karkat is a missing person, and that would not be good for them. so dave does the best he can to patch it up enough so that karkat doesnt die of blood loss or an infection and the rest is history :D

(didnt have another doodle to accompany, oh well.)

[wolfwoodscigarettes]

vox machina spoilers s 3 ep 11

vax really looked at percy who fell with one bullet to the chest and said skill issue

[filtheopathic]

everyone watch tlou so we can get collective zombie apocalypse au brain worms. i want to play zombie apocalypse dolls on the dash pls pls pls pls pls pls

[the-kipsabian]

ooooooh i wanna write post full gear hurt/comfort sooooo baaaaaaaad