#Augustus x Reader

[floatyflowers]

Dark Platonic Mother! Cleopatra x Reincarnated Reader

Getting Reincarnated as the daughter of Cleopatra was the last thing you expected to happen to you.

The woman had you with a lover and decided to pass you off as the daughter of her first husband, Ptolemy XIII.

Let us get one thing straight, you were proud to be Cleopatra's daughter, as you saw her intelligence and chrismatic nature.

Being her first child, her overprotective attitude showed as you grew up.

She seduced Julius Caesar and Mark Antony to secure your safety.

There's no denying that you are her favourite child.

You tried to convince your mother to take different paths to avoid her demise.

But in the end, the paths still led to her demise.

However, the last female Pharaoh of Egypt decided to take you with her, refusing to leave you in the mercy of Augustus Caesar like the rest of her children.

Cleopatra’s gaze burned with a frenzied intensity as she clutched the your trembling hands, her voice trembling with emotion.

"My dearest daughter," she whispered, her tone a mix of desperation and conviction.

"Rome’s chains will not touch us. If Augustus dares to take us, we will not give him the satisfaction of parading us as spoils of war. You and I are above such humiliation, we are divine!"

Her grip tightened, her nails pressing into your skin, and she gestured toward a small, ornate chest on the table.

Within it lay the deadly asp, coiled and waiting.

Cleopatra’s eyes shone with determination as she drew the you closer, her words laced with a terrifying calmness.

"Together, we shall ascend to the gods. You belong with me, forever."

You stumbled backward, your heart pounding in terror as Cleopatra’s words sank in.

"No! I don’t want to die! Please, Mother, we can escape! There has to be another way!" You pleaded, tears streaming down your face.

The idea of experiencing death once again, a foreign, unimaginable concept for someone pulled from a different world sent you into panic.

Cleopatra, however, dismissed your protests with a soft, almost pitying smile, as though the your fear was a child’s naivety.

"Hush now," she murmured, stroking your cheek with a tenderness that only deepened the dread in her heart.

"You don’t understand yet, but you will. This is the only freedom left to us. The gods will welcome us as one."

Desperation clawed at you as Cleopatra reached for the asp, her movements slow.

You fell to your knees, clutching Cleopatra’s skirts, your voice breaking as you begged,

"Please, don’t do this! I’m not ready, I don’t want to leave, I need to be here for my siblings"

For the first time, Cleopatra hesitated, her hand trembling as she looked down at the your tear-streaked face.

For a fleeting moment, something human flickered in Cleopatra’s gaze, doubt, perhaps, or sorrow.

But it was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by the unyielding determination of a queen who believed she was saving her beloved daughter from a fate worse than death.

"You don’t need to be afraid," Cleopatra whispered, pulling the reader into a suffocating embrace.

"We are leaving this world together. You’ll thank me when we are free."

However, when the asp bites you then Cleopatra...you miraculously and barely manage to survive.

𓅁 𓅂

When you woke, the oppressive weight of Cleopatra’s arms was gone, replaced by the cool silk of Roman linens.

The air felt heavy, and the low murmur of distant voices sent a shiver down your spine.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, your body weak but alive, and saw a figure seated beside your bed, his presence radiating authority. Augustus.

His smile was unnervingly calm, his piercing eyes watching her as if you were a prey ensnared in his trap.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Augustus said softly, his voice like honey laced with venom.

He leaned closer, his hands clasped as though he were greeting an honored guest, not a survivor of a tragedy he orchestrated.

"You’re even more exquisite than I imagined. Cleopatra spoke of you so often, a divine child, she called you, her most precious treasure."

His gaze darkened slightly, a possessive edge creeping into his tone.

"And now, you’re mine." Your heart raced as you struggled to sit up, your body shaking under the weight of exhaustion.

Augustus reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a mockery of Cleopatra’s tender touch.

"You don’t need to fear me, I will protect you, as she couldn’t. No harm will come to you… so long as you remember who owns you now.”

[aphroditelovesu]

Hello! I was thinking, would you ever write for yandere emperor Augustus? If yes, could you write a love letter from yandere emperor Augustus to his wife as she waits for him back in Rome? Thx so much! I hope you're okay and remember to drink water!

My dear wife,

As I place my pen on the papyrus, I feel the distance between us like a shadow, a burden that only the warmth of your touch can dispel. But even separated from you, my heart is intertwined with yours as if I had never left your side. Every moment away from Rome is torture, but thinking of you softens even the most arduous of my duties.

(Y/N), you are the light that guides my steps, the reason why I long for each new day. With every sigh of the wind, I imagine that it is your whisper calling my name. I feel your presence in everything around me: in the rays of the sun that reflect the brightness of your eyes, in the fragrance of the flowers that remind me of the softness of your skin.

You know, my love, that everything I do is for you and for our beloved home. Every achievement, every sacrifice, has as its only reward the promise of meeting you again, of feeling your tight embrace and your soft lips that bring peace to my tired heart.

I am here, guiding the destiny of Rome, but my soul is tied to you. I dream of the moment when my eyes will meet yours again, when I will be able to rest my head on your lap and forget, for a brief moment, the weight of the responsibility I carry. My love, you are my refuge, my safe harbor amidst the storms of power.

I ask you to await my return with the patience that only you, my beloved, possess. That you take care of yourself as if you were taking care of the very heart of this emperor who is only a man when he is in your arms. That you know that my longing is as immense as my love, and that there is nothing in this vast empire that I desire more than to be with you again.

With all my love and longing,

Augustus.

[badteavee]

Willy Wonka x Fem ! Reader headcanons

- He leaves you for a man

[jacevelaryonswife]

Kneel to the Empire or die with the Republic

A woman cannot be left alone to her own fate. After the fall of what you used to know, your only option was to kneel to him.

pairing: Young!Gaius Julius (Augustus Imperator) x Fem!reader

warnings and a note: angst, grief. This story is based on Domina (tv show), I don't have so much knowledge about the historical facts that involve Augustus, so, for those who have more baggage I'm sorry if something sounds wrong from what happened, please be kind, or just don’t read. English is not my first language. 3,8k

In addition to grief, other factors tightened your chest after your father's death. A good man, a faithful supporter of the Roman Republic and power of the Senate, a patrician descended from an important aristocratic lineage, and the most aggravating: one of those responsible for orchestrating the assassination of Gaius Iulius Caesar.

When the military forces of Gaius Julius, born Gaius Octavius, great-nephew of Julius Caesar, began to act in Rome, you knew you had few certainties and much to fear. Perhaps you were executed with your family, dying in an honorable way and with your head held high against a dictator (in the words of your older brother), or just having your traitorous blood eliminated by the defended cause of the heir of the most important man in Rome. They said he was different, a restorer of the Republic, a supporter of power in the hands of the people and the Senate, a middle ground between Caesar and the most avid Republicans. In those days, nothing was clearer to you than your death, however, Gaius Julius' stroke of mercy in sparing women and children from those considered enemies was at the same time a breath of relief and a punch in the lung.

Relief to the fact that you would have a chance to live, since the fear occurred when your brothers did not have the same luck when they were sentenced to death.

"What are we going to do?" You asked scared.

The two looked at each other for a considerable time, with Nero lowering his head before answering: "you will stay here and we are going to fight.”

“What? I can't stay here! There must be somewhere where his men don't find us."

"And how would you live? Running away forever? It's not the fate our father wanted for you." Claudius said.

"That's exactly what he would do instead of kneeling to a dictator, what do you expect me to do?"

“We are trying to protect you! There is no gentle future beyond these walls and I’m sure that Julius' men will still be less kind if they capture you," Nero said, exalting himself before holding your hands: "we cannot risk your life beyond ours, our father is not here, our allies are almost all dead, there is no hope for the three of us, but there may be for you."

The fall of tears marked your face until they flowed into the union of your hands. “I don't want to be alone,” you whined.

"You won’t”

It wasn't known at the time, but that was the last time you were with your brothers. The soldiers of Gaius Julius broke into your house the same night, looking closely for any fresh trail of male presence. The soldiers responsible for your safety were murdered without any chance of defense, with the exception of those who submitted quickly, fearful for their lives. You didn't judge them, how could you, after all?

When a man pressed you incisively on the whereabouts of your blood, shaking your shoulders rudely, an authoritarian voice interrupted him with a short message:

"Not her."

With wide eyes and irregular breathing, you were released immediately. The violence on the inside was mirrored on the outside, being the clearest reminder of those destined to die with the Republic. Your inert body remained in the sights of the man who guaranteed your release, the same facing you a few seconds after his order.

“My men will do your protection tonight,” he said.

The confusion in your frightened face was clear on the tip of your tongue when you asked a simple question:

"Why?" That didn't happen to other women.

"You'll know at the right time."

That's all the man said.

You remained static for long minutes after the departure of those who vandalized your home, with your father's servants — ordered by them — to remove the corpses from the house and sanitize the rooms to their original. Impossible. Doesn’t matter if the blood is removed, the death will be marked forever in each piece of furniture and corridor. One of the soldiers responsible for "your protection" approached with fear and touched your arm with delicacy, hitherto unknown to you, to get you out of the trance.

“We will assume from here, go back to rest,” he said.

"What's going to happen?" Your question was weak, almost like a meow.

"The house will be cleaned and the perimeter protected."

"From who? Why do you want to protect me?"

He remained silent for a few minutes before answering: "I'm not allowed to say."

Permission? What was going on? What was being planned for you? And by whom? Gaius Julius himself or one of his trusted men? Would you be held hostage? Would you marry any of them? Would it be sold as a slave or prostitute?

The rest of the night was spent in torment, with you pushing the internal lock of your door hard and putting on a clot to try to hide some jewels and coins with you in case you needed it and managed to escape. Sleeping was not an option, but a part of you wished that sleep would erase the horrors experienced and the departure of his brothers, so nervousness and fear partially succumbed to sleep. You allowed yourself to stay in the room a little longer that morning, ashamed of facing your servants and guards (no longer yours, but of the men of Gaius), only to receive a knock on the door of the same man you spoke to for the last time.

“I would like to sleep a little more,” you said through the door, afraid enough to open it.

His breathing was perfectly audible, followed by a moment of silence. "You will have some time, but you will need to leave soon to feed yourself and receive the lady Octavia's visit."

Octavia? Octavia Minor? Brother of Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus? What the fuck was going on?

If there was any pretension of tiredness in you it was in a distant past, your mind had just been set on fire with what was going to happen, with what that woman might want with you. She was no stranger, visually speaking, since the glimpse of her red hair and elegant posture were seen by you at the wedding of Livia Drusila and Tiberius Claudius Nero. She, Scribonia, Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa and him, the reason for everything that is happening, with his hair and eyes dark as the night, with cheap charm and indecent actions.

You didn’t forget how you caught him having inadequate relations with Cicero's wife during the celebration, how he didn’t seem intimidated or embarrassed by his wide eyes, or how he went to you discreetly after your escape, so calm and carefree that it seemed unreal.

It's too unreal to have him by your side. Too unreal that he approached the daughter of one of the men responsible for the death of his great-uncle.

“I'm sorry you saw that, I should have chosen a place with a door,” he said when he settled comfortably standing next to him.

Your breath froze when you heard such a lack of respect, was he making fun of you?

"Don't worry, the time will come when you will do that for your husband," he provoked again, not receiving silence in response.

"Have you finished yet?" Your question was irritated, although low, without looking him in the eye.

"Yes, I did."

You didn't notice his pertinent choice of words, keeping yourself in the same place while waiting for him to leave.

“A beautiful thing like you deserve a better husband than Livia's,”

And so, he left your side.

Everything that preceded your departure from the room to the bath and to the food resulted in a constant tension in every room of your house. You felt eyes accompanied by you at all times, both from the soldiers of Gaius and from your father's slaves. It seemed that another series of murders would happen and was only prevented, for the time being, by the visit of the dictator's sister, which happened in the early afternoon.

A comforting smile directed to you was present before and after the hug given. "I'm sorry for what happened yesterday, the war usually gets the best of us."

That couldn't be said to her, you thought.

“Thank you.”

One of the guards guided the way to his father's conversation room, where there was some fruit and wine waiting. Quick flashes of happy memories made you walk slower before sitting next to her, it seemed like an eternity from full happiness, and maybe you would never fully recover it.

“Your house is quite beautiful,” Octavia began, looking around, “I always imagined it was, but it's different when being inside.”

“Has had better days,” you said apathetic, looking down.

Holding your hands, she held your chin to face her. “Again, I'm sorry for what happened. It has been a difficult period for all of us, on both sides, and I imagine that being alone in a world of men is more aggravating. That's why I'm here." Your silence made her continue, although she did not mention of stopping. "I believe you follow your father's ideas, perhaps not because you understand what a republic means, but because you accept what your blood believed-"

"I know what the republic means, just as I know what your brother is doing, but I don't think he came here to ask for my opinion," you interrupted her.

“Not an opinion, but a decision,” she rectified.

“And what decision is that?"

She looked down, displaying a strange smile as she took a deep breath. Her response took a while, as Octavia calmly took a bunch of grape in her hands and picked up a berry before resuming the subject.

"Your father's decision to delay choosing a suitor for you was quite risky for your reputation, rumors could have been made about your purity instead. I like to think he was kind, to the same extent as a fool. But maybe, all this time serves a greater purpose,” she took another break, waiting for you to guess, but everything seemed too absurd to unravel.

"What purpose?"

"A woman cannot be alone in the world, especially one with your birth. When the news that your brothers are gone is spread, men of all regions and ages have prowled your carcass and will force a marriage to get your dowry. Maybe some of your uncles or cousins, or any of them. I come here today to offer a better proposal than any of them: Gaius."

The self-control over your expressions was not well executed, since your eyes frowned and your mouth opened. No, it couldn't be. It was a fucking joke. How... how dare she?

"What?" You asked out loud. “Gaius? Your brother Gaius?"

"Yes, he in person." Octavia answered.

“Why? Why do you want me to marry him? Why me?"

“Although many claim that Gaius intends to end the Senate and Republic, this has already proved to be a fallacy. In his trajectory, he showed that he did not conquer power alone. In fact, the Senate is on its way to deliver this power to him, because it recognizes his virtues. He is a merciful man, who wishes to restore the Republics to their glory days.”

“Merciful?” You asked. “Where is the pity in sentencing my brothers to death? How nice would it be to marry the heir of the man my father helped kill? How good would it be to marry the man who is the reason why all this is happening?” Your voice came out exalted again.

Octavia, in turn, restricted herself to looking down. “All the men who remain in Rome will be supporters of Gaius, maybe yes, some dissatisfied rebel can remain, but in the end, their opinion will be worth nothing, so any husband they arrange for you will be loyal to my brother, it’s no less worse.”

“Gaius decreed the death of my brothers, that’s bad enough,” you answered.

“But what will be worse for you: to be unhappy with a bad stranger or to be the wife of a young sovereign leader? My brother was not very favorable to your family, but he would not do the atrocities that could happen to you being alone and vulnerable at this time.”

No answer was formulated by you, maybe a punch in the stomach would be preferable when facing your reality.

“Gaius himself suggested this idea,” she added.

Before or after declaring your brothers as enemies? How could he think of something like that? The memory of your family and your dignity was insulting! You would become what you wouldn’t like to say and that your father would vehemently deny.

“It’s a lot to assimilate, I know, so you have until the rest of the day to think about, tomorrow one of the soldiers will take your answer in writing,” Octavia said.

“No,” you said. “I’ll come to you. Papers can be tampered with, not my word. But I ask you to order your brother’s men not to touch any woman in this house during my absence.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

It was a deal. A marriage proposal by Gaius Julius Caesar. Not a request, an agreement, that’s what it was, an arrangement to improve his image. That was your function, to improve the lives of men, and unfortunately, even if you don’t choose it, there is no way to get out of this situation unscathed, because Octavia didn’t lie when she referred to the fate that awaited you. But that was worse, he was to blame for the chaos and violence that Rome witnessed, the reason why your home was destroyed. You were truly scared between choosing such options. They were all bad in many ways, but Gaius’s was disrespectful and humiliating. And yet you were still considering it. Was surviving so important?

Or was it that you were too cowardly to face your destiny. Between running away and getting married, you preferred death, but you were too cowardly to cut your throat. Maybe one of Gaius’ men could do this after you rejected the proposal, or Octavia herself could meet someone who messed with poisons. By the Gods, you were desperate.

“I don’t know what to do,” you told a personal servant while bathing.

You still didn’t know what to do when you went to sleep, when you woke up the next day, when you ate nothing more than a few grape berries, when you were taken to where Octavia was and when you faced her. You believed that years could pass and you would not yet have a concrete answer to that situation, but even so, the known evil (Gaius) seemed less worse than what could happen if you rejected it.

Even though it is a simple word, it has never been so difficult to make a statement before.

“Yes.”

You accepted him as yours.

Gaius’ sister’s smile was warm, wrapping your body in a hug while saying that from now on you would be sisters. Your dresses and goods would be sent to your new home, and a few maids could be taken too — at your insistence.

“We have our trusted servants, no need to worry,” Octavia said.

And then it became clear that the evaluation of his company was not only for capacity, but for loyalty and security.

“Gaius will be back soon, I’m sure he will be pleased with your presence here,” she said next. “You couldn’t have chosen better.”

Choices. No, you didn’t want to keep torturing yourself by thinking about the other options.

However, a curious fact was noticed by you in the days that followed in Gaius’ house, under the company of Octavia and other ladies: they would die to be in your position. Or rather, they would kill to be the wife of the next leader of Rome. It was one of the certainties you came to believe, Gaius Julius would not lose the war and those women would do anything to be in youe place. The feeling of danger that filled you on the other days was terrifying, restless and too tense to remain surrounded by other people. Turning to Octavia about the possibility of being poisoned, she eased your fears by saying that everything that arrived on your plate was tasted by others noticed. It wasn’t so comforting when you realized that people could die for you. No, that was insanity. Everything related to what you were living was insanity.

Long days and long nights were bathed in fear in your new home, but nothing compared when the news of his return echoed through the walls. Next to your faithful friends, men, family and servants, there you were, in the center, next to your new sister. The smile that stamped his front was raised when he saw your serious and nervous figure waiting for him. The son of a bitch looked like he had won the biggest of the prizes. And in fact, he did it, after all, his image was built for that.

For the reconstruction of the Republic.

No word of his speech was heard by you, just waiting for such torment to end. But the celebrations were just beginning. At first, he did not go directly to meet you, but in the middle of the night, when you were away for too long in a distant room, he approached surreptitiously with gentle steps.

“Even though it was a generous proposal, a large part of me thought you would refuse it,” he said, calm with a breeze.

A sigh was your first reaction.

“A large part of me thought about refusing.”

He stood next to you, or in front of you (depending on the perspective) in the hallway.

“And what made you change your mind?”

“I don’t know,” you replied.

“Don’t you know?”

“No, I don’t know.”

“So why are you here?”

“I was afraid of being alone, not that I’m not at the moment. Not that the other option was less worse, in fact, both were bad enough.”

“And what was the other option?” He asked with a mixture of humor, surprise and curiosity with his sincere answer.

“Your sister can answer that.”

He didn’t hold his smile this time, even if weak and nasal. After that, he was silent for a while, posture changing up before speaking even lower:

“I’m sorry for your brothers.” Perhaps it would have been better to have been silent since your only reaction was to walk in the same direction that he came, leaving him behind, or trying. “Wait, wait! I’m sorry, it was something stupid to say.” He held your arm firmly, but without being rude, as he got even closer.

“Yes, it was,” you agreed and showed the frown you fought so hard to disguise.

“There was nothing to do about them,” he confessed.

“No? Did your supporters say that or was it your idea to declare them as enemies?” You asked (accused) him.

“Would they accept to be loyal to me?”

Of course not.

“I thought you was doing this for the people and the Senate, to restore the Republic,”

“And I am, but would they accept this if it was done by me?”

You smiled with mockery, looking the other way and leaving him unanswered.

“I know you have enough reasons not to trust me, or hate me, but I don’t intend to fail as a husband, and I don’t intend to disrespect you,” he said, trying to soften.

“Just like you disrespected Cicero?” You remembered the incident at Livia’s wedding.

It was his turn to sigh, releasing your arm to hold your hand.

“Cívero married her because her family is rich. That’s why everyone gets married: money, power and family. That the only thing that’s matter.”

“That’s why we’re getting married. Money, power and family,” you said bitterly.

“Yes, it’s. But I know it wasn’t an easy decision fot you to make.”

If your conscience wasn’t trying to push him away, you could have noticed a certain compassion in his beautiful eyes.

“No, you don’t know. You don’t.” That was too much, no, it was an excess of what you could handle. “You have no idea what it’s been like to live with this burden. The people I loved are dead and I feel that at any moment I will be next, and I will still marry you. No, you don’t know how I feel. My father would bitterly deny me if I were alive, my brothers too, because I’m going to marry you, because I’m a fucking traitor!” Tears collapsed violently from your eyes. “Because I have nothing else, there’s nothing left.”

Oh no. He advanced on you with a tight hug, holding your head against his chest. “It’s ok, it’s ok, you’ll be fine, I promise, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for all this. I promise I won’t betray you, I promise, I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know how many tears you had saved for that moment, for him. Because of him. You couldn’t imagine leaning over to seek comfort in him, squeezing him so hard to prevent him from running away. But he wouldn’t go anywhere, no, he wouldn’t. He wrapped you in a cocoon while holding the back of your head. The inconvenient thought that incriminated him for your situation was unpleasant to deal with, for him, and unconsciously, for you, a small relief was present in the back of your mind because no one was around.

“I promise you, nothing less than respect. I can’t get back what was lost, but I can guarantee new things,” he said when you calmed down.

“I don’t need jewelry, Gaius, or dresses, or maids. I already have that, I’ve always had it,” you countered it.

“I’m not talking about material goods. Some things need interference to be solved, others can be remedied by time, or mitigated. I don’t intend to put pressure or do little of you, I know it wouldn’t work, and that’s not how I want to solve things between us. I hope one day you can forgive me, I’ll be waiting for that.”

Taking a risk by kissing your forehead with affection was dangerous, but touching your lips was off limits. He has waited so long for you, since he saw your wide eyes and beautiful face at Livia Drusilla’s wedding. A beautiful girl from an important family, the same family involved in the size of her great-uncle, yet a beautiful girl to have by his side. He knows it was cruel to have made such a proposal, but it would be even more cruel to leave you for your luck. He could not allow this, not when your fragility was exposed to him in a more frighteningly palpable way, not when even in suffering you confronted him. Call him a fool or hopeful, but he believed that eventually, taking time or not, you would be totally his.

The confusion was evident in your eyes when he felt for the first time the slight landing of soft and gentle lips against your own. His lips... kissing you. Your eyes closed in the final seconds, before a whispered statement was sworn to you in a serious and masculine tone:

“Everything will be fine.”

————————

I didn’t like this as much as I imagined.

general taglist: @chompchompluke

tag for this fic: @lovelykhaleesiii @arcielee

[slixqrta]

yandere! rich husband x reader

synopsis: after a long time inside the house, your dear husband decides to take you to a date in one of the clubs he attends.

TW: 18+ writing, gn! reader, male! yandere, violence, mentioned references of past noncon towards reader, panic attack, reader isn’t have the best time around, mentioned of past kidnapping, reader is nicknamed darling but continue to be gender neutral, yandere elements.

a/n: this took way too long to me to finish. sorry for the wait, but I promise this is a good one, I swear! also to make things clear, the character in this story is not the rich boyfriend from my previous work (despite them having some connections) just to make things clear if anyone gets confused, okay? also, ive open a taglist, so send me a message if you want to be part of it!

you know it’s wrong.

yet it’s the only way to gain enough money to afford paying the bills, even though it is dangerously to enter a world like this one.

the flashing lights, clinks of expensives drinks, the continuing pulsating beat of the music, and the sea of bodies moving under strobe lights—this is a scene you never imagined yourself witnessing.

yet here you are, standing amidst their heirs and children of the world`s wealthiest families, pretending to be one of them as you continues to clinging to the arm of your client, who wears the effortless charm of someone born into this world.

his laugh cuts through your thoughts, bringing you back to reality as augustus learn down, just close enough for his breath to brush agsist your earlobe. "relax, honey." he murmurred, his tone light but laced with a quiet threat. "you just need to be my darling for tonight, remeber? act as i told you and you will receive a bonus."

you nodded, forcing a small smile to your lips, though the weight of gazes around you is making you slightly uncomfortable. the people here—heirs and heiresses—act like predators, sharp eyes staring at you. they silently judge the expensive outfit brought by augustus, how you act around him and even the way you cling to him as if it's a second nature of them.

to everyone present, you're the small and shy significant other of august sinclair, the heir of the biggest bank agency of europe. the media calls you darling, a mysterious person who just happen to be a perfect match to the former playboy. to you, it's a high-stake contract—one that you were too to fully understand back then, ony realizing the harsh reality when it was already too late to leave.

a small group of his friends call for him, sprawled on plush velvet couches with those crystalline cocktails in hands. they're picture-perfect, laughing and glittering out like a melody designed to show how perfectly they are.

augustus forces guides you towards them with effortless confidence, slipping seamlessly into their world full of dangerous possibilities.

"who's ths, augustus?" one of them asked, tilting their head, showing the man's perfectly sculpted features framed by a curious smik. "another of your playthings? i bet they won't stick around long. not compared to my dove."

"don't speak nonsense about my darling, lucian. " augustus replied without missing a beat, his tone laced with a subtle pride and possessiveness to make the answer seem unquestionable. his arm tightens around waist, bringing you closer to him despite being fully aware of your discomfort under a calm expression.

"they won't be leaving me anytime soon," he continued, his words smooth as silk, but everyone on the plush velvet couches can sense the authority that came with, one that sent a chill down your spine and to the others present. "my [name] will be my side for a long time—unlike your dove." he paused, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "speaking of the dove, where is your wife? it's been a while since anyone's seen her."

lucian's smirk faltered for a split second, but it was more than enough to make tensions higher. the air seemed to thicken as lucian straightened, his gaze flickering betwen you and augustus before letting out a short laugh, a hollow one.

"she is away from now," he replied, lifting his glass to his lips and taking a slow sip. "not that it's any of your concern, august..." his bright eyes stares at you, this time more intense. "but i will admit, i'm curious. it's been only a gew months since you ended your thing with ophelia and yet, you already managed to find another. i'm not surprised that you got another person into your charm. let's see how long they’ll last under it."

augustus didn't flinch. instead. his hold on you tightened severely, making you aware ths whole situation is irritating him. and so, you decided to act before things can get worse.

"augustus," you said, your voice just a little bit light to sound like the dumb and naive person think you are. "do you think we could grab a drink? something sweet." you forced a smile, tilting your head in a way that you hope to appear casual, submisse if you dare to say. "please? i think we should explore a little around here—after all. this place is so fascinating!"

his gaze flicked to you, his expression not changing, not even slightly.

oh.

you probably fucked up a bit too much this time.

"of course, darling." he mumured, his tone quieter now, but as gentle you wished for. he learned in close, his lips brushing your earlobe—a gesture that will make the audience think he is a gentle lover. "we should explore the venue before it’s get too late."

lucien raised a brow as augustus grabbed your hands, already walking off, his smirk return to his lips. "don't disappear, darling! stick around for a while and i will introduce you to my dove." he yelled from across the club as augustus drags you to the most distance empty bathroom as lucien swirl his amber liquid before taking a long sip.

not a word came from augustus' lips as he locked the door behind him, taking the key to his pocket as he sighes off before you began pushing yourself to the farhest wall. there is no chance of you from escaping from his incoming rage.

the walls of the bathroom—despite being larger than your entire aparment you once called home—seemed to close in, becoming tighter with every breath you took. air grew heavier, your chest tightening as the possible agression threatened to overwhelm you.

your fingers trembles as the pressure in your chest rose, a small wave of panic is slowly surging through you, feeling impossible tight.

too trapped inside of your mind. you failed to notice augustus standing in front of you until his voice broke through the strom inside your head.

"look at me, darling." his tone calm, but you still can sense the slightly angry at his voice.

shooking your head, squeezing eyes shut, you try to ignore the pouding of your heart in your mind. but then, his hand touched your cheek.

careful and gentle. two words that can't be used to describe augustus, yet he is the one in front of you holding you like you are porcelain as he is afraid of breaking you again.

the warmth of their palm against your skin pulled you back, grounding you to reality. "breathe," he whispered, the other hand of his cradling your face now. his thumb brushing away the few tears that escaped from your eyes moments ago. "you're not in trouble. i promise, darling. i'm not angry at you."

your eyes met his. there is no hint of malice in his eyes, it make you breath hitch—in a quiet and softer way. augustus didn't speak another word as you slowly drew in a shaky breath, his fingers gently traced along your cheekbone.

and for the first time in what you pressume to be in forever, you aren't afraid of his touch.

perhaps it's because augustus wouldn't like seeing other people staring and judging him if he step out of the club with his signficant other crying, it would create a bad reputation for him. but, you can't deny that you are melting under his touch.

you should be feeling guilty to enjoy it. after everything that augustus did in the name of his love for to you in the past years of your kidnapping.

the things he forced upon you. the punishments that you experiements and the fact that you can barely see by your left eye should you make desprize him. those things shouldn't be easily forget, yet you find yourself ignoring all the pain he made you suffer in exchange of being treat as his darling.

since you left the basement weeks ago, he's taken to calling you darling. abandoning the cruel nicknames that used to spill from his lips when punished you back then.

and you don't want to things to return as there were before, don't you?

"that's it," he murmured as your breath slowly returned to normal. "slow and steady. we are not going anywhere before you feel safe."

the pressure in your chest began to ease, the walls no longer to threatening to close in as augustus wraps his coat over your shoulders. the smell of his cologne makes you feel dizy, but you keep that to yourself as he presses a kiss at the corner of your lips.

"how are you feeling now?" he asked, his voice softer than ever before.

you hesitated for a moment, tryint to hide underneath the heavy coat as your fingers gripped the sleeves. and then you nodded, a small smile surging from your lips before you gain courage to speak. "i'm sorry if i embarassed you..."

augustus shook their head, a faint smile tug at the corner of his lips. "you didn't really do anything," he said, reaching out for one of your hands to then pull you into a hug.

it's feel safe to be in his arms.

his embrance is everything you needed. augustus' arms wrapped around you, like they are built to keep the dangerous world at bay or to prevent you to escape from him. you let a soft breath out of your motuh, tension melting as you sank into his touch.

"you are safe here," he said quietly, soothing against the top of your head.

you believed him.

a terrible mistake.

you felt the faintest shift in his arms. it happened too quickly to react.

before you could react or say something, his hands dug into your neck—rough but going as futher to choke you. a yelp escaped you, your body trying to jerk away from him as his eyes stares at you, without any remorse.

"s-stop," you cried, squirming in their hold. tryint to reach to reach him. but falling as augustus lift your body from the ground, forcing you to tiptoe. "you—you are scaring me..."

he smiled. this time, you can see the malice in his expression. "i know." there is the true version of him.

gasps come out from you as you try to twist away, but his grip remained firm. his hands merciless as he slightly add force to your neck, forcing you to hold back the tears. you swated at his arms, though you are in way too much pain to put up any real fight to escape him.

"i'm sorry," you pleaded breathlessly, though you aren't even sure for what you are apologing for. it didn't exactly matter—nothing did except for the fact you are seconds away from losing consciousness if he don't stop. "p-please, you are hurting me."

and just like that, augustus relented. his hands removing themselves away from your neck as you slumped against the wall, breathless as you try to main conscious. your face feels warm, cheeks red from the violence he'd so effortlessly did to you.

he enjoyed. the smile and chuckling says all. augustus enjoyed seeing you like this, so hopeless and betrayed after he pulled that act of his moments ago. you are still full of hopes that things will get better, that he will change for better, silly you.

you don't flinch when he steps closer, nor do you speak as his arm snakes around your waist, forcing himself to your personal space. his toch are harsh and unyielidng, before you can give a proper reaction, augustus learn in. he presses a kiss that leaves no room for conversation.

"we are going home, darling. and once there, you aren't going to be leaving for time." he smiles.

there is no regret at his face. augustus enjoys seeing like this

while in yours, there is fear. you needs to learn that he will never change, not even for you.

taglist:

-> @kiiyoooo

[christianbalesblueadidas]

christian bale masterlist

| / — drabble | // — oneshot | /// — series |

| 🍓 — fluff | 🥀 — angst | 🍒 — smut |

characters in alphabetical order

AUGUSTUS LANDOR (the pale blue eye)

coming soon

BRUCE WAYNE / BATMAN (the dark knight trilogy)

I'm Sorry, Sweetheart // 🥀🍒

Routine Surveillance // 🍒

DAN EVANS (3:10 to yuma)

coming soon

JOHN MILLER (the flowers of war)

Let's Go Home I /// 🥀

JOHN PRESTON (equilibrium)

Discovering His Favorite Feeling / 🍒

MELVIN PURVIS (public enemies)

coming soon

THEODORE "LAURIE" LAURENCE (little women)

coming soon

MANDRAS (captain corelli's mandolin)

coming soon

PATRICK BATEMAN (american psycho)

coming soon

[moriartyluver]

Throwback to when ruskin PISSED on Sherlocks violin

This was probably so awkwardly silent. They should’ve animated this for comedic relief but whatever

[love-beyond-space-war]

If your requests are still open could it be damon vaird x read where there's jealousy involved it could be either damn or reader being jealous which eventually ends up with one of them confessing (blurting out) their feelings

I'm always one for jealous characters, especially Baird! Hope you like this short story of Baird being jealous about Cole :) Takes place in no specific Gear game. Sorry that I missed the blurting out feelings part, it didn't fit Baird in the fic :(

On My Nerves

Jealous! Damon Baird x Reader

Synopsis: Baird is tired of hearing you talk about Cole for about the thousandth time. Sometimes he wishes you'd show him that same adoration.

Content Warnings: Romantic Pairing, Gender-Neutral Reader/Male Character, Jealousy, Implications of Reader/Cole in a more platonic sense, Kissing.

"Man, I used to watch Cole Train play all the time. I'm surprised I even got to meet him, in the military no less!"

Baird grit his teeth but said nothing. He never really wanted to admit it but hearing you talk about Cole in such a way made his blood boil. Sure, Cole is cool and all, almost everyone knows him for his Thrashball career.

Baird just wishes you'd praise him in the same way since you're so close.

Baird gets it, Cole is a friendly and lovable person that draws others in. While Baird is the opposite and drives people away. It's expected that you'd take to Cole more than him.

Maybe he's just being insecure.

"Yeah, cool... I've been friends with him for years." Baird answers in a dismissive tone. You then continue on to talk about how big of a fan you are and how you've been hanging around him more often. Baird feels a weight in his gut as he listens in.

Did you like Cole more than a fan and friend? The thought that you may like Cole in a more romantic sense makes Baird ill. Yet... the signs are there.

"So what? Are you asking me to set you up on a little date? Is that it?" Baird finds himself snapping. The sudden bark in his voice shuts down your rant. He only feels more frustrated when your face flushes.

"I-... No, Baird. Me and Cole are just friends. I don't think I like him like that." You defend yourself. Baird turns to you with an unimpressed gaze.

"Really now? If you don't like him in such a way why do you speak about him with such adoration." Baird frowns. "You speak of him like he's so cool and hot or something. Always talking about him like he's the only thing that occupies your mind!"

You stare at your friend confused by his sudden outburst. He looks so angry. Did you... say something to upset him? Did Cole upset him somehow?

"Did something happen between you two?" You ask and Baird just about loses it with a sigh.

"No, not between him. I just can't stand to listen to you talk about him like some messiah anymore! He's not that great... he gets all of the attention by just being him." Baird vents, trying to calm his nerves. It's then you notice the last thing he said and feel your heart beat.

Truth is, you never had a crush on Cole. Cole and you were just friends and you happened to be a fan of him. You thought sharing your respect for Cole would connect you with Baird, the one you actually have feelings for.

Turns out you only made him jealous...

Which isn't that bad since it confirms your thoughts."

"Baird." You get his attention, the blonde's gaze glaring into you. "I see what's wrong now."

"Do you now?" Baird sighs, rolling his eyes.

"You're jealous I'm not praising you." You grin playfully.

There's silence between you as Baird feels his heart quicken.

"What makes you say that...?" Baird asks, scoffing.

"You're mad because I'm bringing up Cole. That's why you suggested the date, right?" You continue, walking closer to him. "If anything there's only one person I'd want to date and it isn't Cole."

"Is there someone else on your mind now?" Baird sighs.

"Yes." You say curtly, standing right in front of him. "You!"

There's another long pause of silence with Baird staring at you. It's then you take the time to slide a hand under his chin and pull him down to kiss you. Quickly Baird gives in, not fighting the sudden affection.

"So you finally caught on?" Baird murmurs when you pull away. Before you can fully pull apart from him he keeps his hands on your waist, pulling closer.

"Truth is, I liked you for awhile. I just couldn't figure out how to say it." You confess, laying your head on his chest.

"Is it because I'm difficult to talk to?" Baird asks.

"Partially." You snicker.

"Guess I can't blame you for that...." Baird sighs.

"As much as I like Cole..." you hum. "You are really intelligent and skilled when it comes to tech and explosives. You've helped the team more than once. Truthfully... Delta wouldn't be what it is without you."

"Hey! Where was that praise before, huh?" Baird frowns and you giggle.

"I was too shy to say."

"Bull." Baird grumbles before you kiss him again.

"Well... now that the cat's out of the bag..." You coo when you pull away, nuzzling into his neck. "Should we make things official?"

"I want to wait a bit..." Baird whispers, squeezing you closer as he leans towards your ear. "I want to just feel you in my arms right now... just to know you're mine."

"Of course, Baird." You laugh again softly. "I'll always be yours...."

With that you sit with Baird in silence, an emotional weight being lifted off both of you

[floatyflowers]

what kind of yandere would caesar augustus be? can you give highlights of his attitude, personality, and behaviour as a yandere to reader who has isekaied in his time as a roman emperor? thanks so much. Btw i enjoyed reading emperor geta and emperor caracella 💕💝

You kissed the picture of a statue of Augustus Caesar in history textbook before drawing hearts over the pictures in a playful manner.

Which led to you ending up in Ancient Rome, in Augustus Caesar's reign.

And because of your strange clothes and frightened attitude, you were dragged to the emperor, accused of being an intruder.

The emperor spoke to you in Latin while you only stared at him in fear and confusion.

From your expressions and reactions, Octavian realized that you are harmless.

He ordered to have your things taken away, and for you to be taken and clothed in Roman clothes, as he decided to have you under his care until he understands who exactly are you.

No one has sparked his curiosity like you.

In less than two months you were taught Latin.

But through those two months, you also managed to build many friendships.

Even with the young daughter of the emperor, Julia, the eight-years-old child adores you.

But now, you are forced to stand in front of Augustus and speak to him in the language you were taught.

"I'm not from here." you admit.

"I have noticed the first time from your improper clothing, I wish to know everything about you."

"Even if what I'm going to tell you is considered madness?"

With a nod from him, you begin telling him everything about yourself, and how you found yourself in this timeline.

This was a huge mistake on your part, as this made the Roman emperor obsessed with you and knowing about the future.

Everything you needed, was granted.

Octavian would spend long hours with you in his chambers, discussing many different matters.

You have so much knowledge, something he respects in a person.

When in reality, the knowledge you got is only from three sources, books, school, and YouTube.

However, sometimes he feels like you act like a child who needs to be corrected.

"Do you have a husband in your timeline?"

One day while having a walk in the gardens Augustus inquires about your marital situation.

"Yes." you lie, feeling uncomfortable under his sharp gaze.

You are not naive to the way he is interested to you and the hints he gives here and there.

But you would rather have boundaries.

"I suppose he must miss you dearly, he is unfortunate in many ways."

"Unfortunate, how so?" you ask, curiosity peeking.

"His wife is going to marry the emperor of Rome."

Your heart beats raises in fear, as you try to move away, but Caesar grabs your left wrist to stop you.

"I'm married, this would be considered infidelity." you say with a disgusted tone at how he still chooses to pursue you.

"In this timeline, you are not married as your husband does simply not exist yet."

[1rsoldiersince2012]

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 3365 (chapter 40)

AN: pardon me for this chapter but... Yeah.

/slight smut/ minors dni!

40. running away is all I know

"Isn't it a bit too loud?" You shout to Pug, whose hand has been steadily keeping a hold of your wrist and pulling you forward through the sweaty crowd.

"What?!" Pug turns to briefly look at you, but then continues his journey towards the bar.

"Exactly!" You shout back, trying to not lose your purse and your friend by tightly gripping Pug's jacket with your other hand. You got out of your 5-hour flight just before noon, and now Pug was dragging you out for drinks, hoping that it would lessen your guilt and heartache over a certain someone.

"Oh, I see it!" He says excitedly, and finally you spot the bar, full of people lingering near the counter and others sitting on the high stools. The whole place reeks off rich people with big egos and you're a bit surprised that it changed so much since you left Los Angeles.

"Pug, it's full." You gently pull on his sleeve, but he still drags you near the left side of the bar, where a couple of guys were having a heated conversation, something about business and stocks from what you've managed to overhear in such a short time. Pug gestures something to the bartender and in a minute the guys are leaving their seats, grumbling something about rude service.

"After you, madam." He shows you the stool and helps you to sit down first, before getting comfortable on his stool beside you.

"You call me madam again, and I'm taking the next plane to NY." You send a threatening glare and Pug puts his hands up in defense.

"Okay, okay." He sighs then calls for a bartender. "'Sup Johnathan?"

"Pug, my man, how's it going? Haven't seen you here for a while." They shake hands like old pals and you can't wipe the confusion off of your face.

"I've been busy lately, but hey, I brought this beautiful lady today, it's been what..? a year since she last was here." Pug announces, suddenly making you feel old.

"Oh, nice to meet you, Miss...?" He extends his hand over the counter, waiting for your response.

"Y/n." You shake his hand and you're pretty sure that it smells like all the alcohol in this bar mixed together.

"Johnathan. You said you were here a year ago?" He smiles, the light of the bar illuminating his short, spiky hair.

"Yeah, and I honestly don't remember you." You say, squinting your eyes slightly. "Maybe you would've been a good catch for the night." You watch his eyes widen but then a mischievous glint changes the confusion.

"What about tonight?" He leans closer, trying to keep the conversation on low volume, despite the whole club going feral.

"Oh, Johnny, her heart is in another city, not a chance." Pug nudges his arms and John retreats back a safe distance. You only smile and order Vodka Red Bull, while Pug sticks to his usual Martini.

"Starting off strong?"

"Yeah, trying to forget some stuff." You huff a laugh and Pug eyes you knowingly. After you spilled all your heart in his apartment and in the taxi on your way here, he wasn't about to complain about your road-to-a-heart-attack drink order, because he knew how much you needed to get properly wasted tonight.

*** 

After the gala, you woke up the next evening, head pounding and a lump hanging in your throat. Your mouth felt so dry that you actually had to peel your tongue off of the top of your mouth. The first thing you saw upon opening your eyes was Foggy sitting in a chair next to you; actually, sleeping heavily, and you almost wished that Matt was sitting next to him, but the second chair was empty. Finally spotting the flowers on the table, you moved in bed, waking up Foggy. 

He was beyond worried, immediately thanking God that you've woken up, and running around the ward like a little worker ant.

"Foggy... Please, you're making my head spin." You said, feeling restricted by all the tubes and needles attached to your body, "Can you lift the bed?"

"I don't think you should sit up so soon."

"Since when you're a doctor?" You asked, already annoyed that he didn't hurry to fulfil your wish.

"Since I-" He stopped, thinking about Matt resting in his apartment, "Okay, whatever."

"Thank you." You said when he finally fixed the pillow and you felt your body relax. "How'd you find me?"

"How'd you get here? What the hell happened? I mean Claire told me why you're here but how the hell did you get poisoned?" Foggy started wawing his hands around in the air.

"Who's Claire?"

"Your nurse. She recognized you from your old bilboard and called HCB and then got sent to us."

"Oh." You fall silent, looking at your fingers resting in your lap. "I...was at Fisk's party."

"What? Why?" Foggy looks at you intently, and suddenly you feel like a child who is about to get a lecture from their parents about a broken thing. 

"I had to, there was no other choice. He gave me no other choice." You furrow your eyebrows angrily.

"Who? Fisk? Did he threaten you?"

"It's a long story, Foggy, I don't think I'm ready to talk about it..." You sigh, softly smoothing the covers with your hand.

"I'm so tired of all the secrets." Foggy grumbles under his breath, sending a look at the flowers.

"What secrets?"

"Nothing, just forget about it."

Probably for the first time since you and Foggy met, you felt him acting cold towards something, which was very unlike him. "Can you pass me my phone? Before the nurses come and send me through millions of tests."

"Sure." He comes close and hands you the phone, still looking at the flowers. You're met with at least 50 messages and 20 calls from Pug, asking where are you. All from yesterday. "There's a note for you." Foggy fidgets next to you and takes out the note, "is it from him?"

You take the piece of paper and read the words: "i wish it could've been different", written in nice cursive, although it was painfully evident that a man wrote it.

"Is it from that Wesley guy?" Foggy asks again, this time more demanding.

"I think so. I think he brought me here." You scrunch your nose when the hospital smell finally reaches you. "Remember that woman in art gallery?" You ask, eyes wide and, if Foggy wasn't wrong, a little bit wild.

"The one with dark hair? Who was telling me about that ugly painting?"

"Yeah, Vanessa." You say, somehow feeling strength return to your body, "she's with Fisk. There were all kinds of dicks in that Gala, all the rich people of the city, I don't even know half of them, but they're pretty high in power, I think I saw someone from the Station. Foggy, he has everyone in his pocket, we can't do anything about it. We just can't expose him because he's already three steps ahead and has it all covered." You sigh with desperation and notice a familiar face peeking through the small window inside your ward. You knew that face, he was one of the security men in the party. Marco notices your wide eyes and quickly disappears just like he appeared.

Foggy continues pacing around, failing to notice the unfamiliar person, much to his luck. "This is bad, this is so bad." He mumbles again, rubbing his eyes.

"I'm getting out of here. Tonight. I can't stay here any longer." You begin pulling out the needles out of your arms, quickly alarming Foggy.

"Hey, hey, are you crazy?"

"It's crazy to stay here, when Fisk has this place fully packed with his men, I have no doubt about that." You catch his hand trying to stop you and sit on the edge of the bed. "Please, let's just get out of here and I leave you alone, I won't bother you tonight. In fact, I'm going to LA for the weekend."

"What? After Matt had... The incident?" Foggy asks, making your hurried actions come to a halt.

*** 

"Oh, my favorite type of clients." Johnathan smiles and disappears in the other side of the bar.

"So, I've been meaning to ask you..." Pug starts, spinning the toothpick with olives in his glass.

"Yeah?" You take a sip of your drink and the burning sensation in your throat makes you feel alive again.

"What are your plans after what happened?" He looks at you, unreadable expression on his face.

"Try to stay alive?" You joke, hoping to avoid any serious topics, especially when you came here to get loose.

Pug doesn't get to ask any more questions when suddenly your world becomes dark - big hands on your face cover your eyes and you almost jump in your seat. "Guess who?" A deep voice says close to your ear, warm breath tickling the back of your head. Involuntary, you smile, ignoring the fact that a possible stranger put his hands on your face, most likely ruining your makeup. Your hands come onto his, slowly grazing his fingers and wrists, feeling the layer of hair and strong muscles. There was only one person in your whole life, who still did this childish game.

"Max?" You ask and feel momentarily blinded by the lights when the hands leave your face and rest on your shoulders.

"Bingo!" A voice with thick Australian accent exclaims behind you, and you turn on your chair to see a taller man standing with his arms open, smile on his face as big as the moon tonight.

"Max!" You shout and almost immediately pull him into your embrace, feeling the muscles under his dark green shirt when he presses you close into his chest. He pulls away slightly and takes your hand in his, leaning close to kiss your knuckle. You hold his gaze and shiver slightly when his lips touch your skin, disappearing just as quick as they made contact. Pug looks at the two of you, slightly surprised and almost shocked.

"Max? What a coincidence." He says, pushing his hand in front of Max and quickly greeting the man.

You quickly glance at his shoes and smirk. "Cowboy boots?"

He laughs, head falling back and exposing his thick neck. "You can take me from Texas, but you can't take Texas from me, baby."

"You're from Australia." You deadpan, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I grew up in Texas, baby." He winks, looking around the place.

"Still got that cowboy hat in your apartment?" You take a sip of your drink, turning to Max again. Sitting in the middle of the bar side and managing the whole three-way conversation turned out to be a bigger challenge for your drunken self than it actually was.

"Even better, I probably have like 5 cowboy hats." He smiles, dimples visible on his cheeks, curls falling on his forehead. It's been only couple of years since you last saw him, but he has changed a lot. "Can't believe I met you guys here. I mean I'm here every weekend or so, but it's been too long since I was met with familiar faces."

"I'm not hiding anywhere, just getting drunk in less expensive places." Pug shrugs, side eyeing the bar for any signs of Johnathan and a new drink.

"Well... I've been busy with work.. in Hell's Kitchen." You cast your eyes down, watching the bubbles rise in your glass.

"That hole?" Max asks, not really surprised, but maybe a bit disappointed.

"Yep, that hole. It's just as bad as LA but a lot less fancy."

"Augustus you're still into the law?"

"More 'in' than 'into', but yes, still there." Pug replies, somewhat sourly. He wished to spend as much time with you as he could before you leave again for God knows how long but of course, Max was ruining everything.

"So, what are you doing here, Max?" You ask, saving Pug from another awkward answer.

"Oh, just making my way into the hierarchy of the prison." He says, eyes glinting, "I'm kind of an important person there."

"What, they let you sleep in the top bunk?" You ask, pretending to be shocked.

"Haha, very funny. I'm second to the head chief, so, you know, I can do whatever I want."

"No wonder you're so... Bulky now." You reply, eyes sliding down his chest.

***

You force him on his knees, locking the doors of his apartment behind you and leaning on the nearby wall. "Oh, I like it." Max smirks, kneeling in front of you, smiling. Leaving the club with Max and ditching Pug with a mysterious blonde was a huge mistake, but now you weren't thinking; alcohol was doing it for you.

"Wanna like it more?" You ask, fingers messing with his dark curls. He nods, eagerly placing his hands on your thighs and giving a firm squeeze. He looks at you, asking for permission and you nod slowly, because if you did it faster, you were sure that your vision would be lost. Strong fingers lift the end of your dress and Max starts kissing your thigh; you hold your breath, waiting for him to acknowledge the obvious under your dress, but when he continues teasing, you grab a fistful of his hair and push his face on your center. He looks at you from below, eyes unfocused from the alcohol, the sudden pull of his hair causing him to jerk his hips forward.

He knows how you like it. Or liked. It's been too long since he felt your body underneath his, tightly pressed together and desperate for more. Yet not long enough for him to forget how you liked your pussy to be eaten. Max eyes you one more time before lifting himself up more to grab the hem of your underwear with his teeth and starts pulling it down. You watch the scene unfold between your legs, still tightly holding onto his hair. As he pulls your underwear down to your knees, they fall on the floor on their own, making him smirk. You gently pull him back and he takes the hint, diving to suck your clit. You almost moan out loud at the contact, but swallow it harshly. Max sets a relentless pace, making you tug at his hair harder. He tries to hide it, but you can see the way he's moving his hips, trying to make some type of contact with his pants and you say something that surprises you both. "Touch yourself."

He finally pulls away, breathing heavily and looking at you with a dazed expression, your wetness glistening on his lips. You release his hair, pulling him up by his chin to your eye level. "What?" He asks, blinking more than necessary, perhaps slightly sobering up.

"I wanna see you touching yourself when you eat me." You say more confidently now, kissing his cheek for reassurance. You didn't want to kiss him on the lips and continuously refused to do so in the taxi. He puts his whole body weight on his palms on the wall to keep his balance.

Max groans when your hands start unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants and you teasingly lick his neck. Max's eyebrows knit together, waiting for the desired contact with his cock, but you pull away, holding the hem of your dress instead. He looks at you in question, but then awkwardly pulls his pants down, exposing his already hard dick. "I want to see you cum when you lick my clit." You say, feeling slightly lightheaded when he spits into his palm and wraps his hand on his dick, groaning loudly at the contact, his breath near your neck tickling your skin. "Get on your knees." You say, watching him continue to stroke himself for a brief moment before you pull his head to your center again, letting his tongue do the rest.

You lay on the bed next to Max, ashamed that you just faked your orgasm, staring at the ceiling in thought. Both still fully dressed, feeling too hot for your liking after the previous incident (that's all it was in your mind), you were both looking at the same dried spot of yellow on one of the ceiling tiles. Max turns his body towards you, lying on the side, his head resting on his palm. You pay no attention to the shuffling beside you, still staring with an empty gaze. The alcohol was still buzzing through your veins, creating an unpleasant feeling in your head.

"What's on your mind?" Max asks, carefully inspecting your facial expressions.

"Everything." You simply say. Words were not enough to explain what was going through your mind, and Max, staring at your face, didn't make it all easier.

"I thought you hated Hell's Kitchen." He says and looks at you questioningly.

"I did." You sigh, closing your eyes, "still do."

"But he makes it bearable?" Max asks, his finger gently touching the scar on your arm, where the bullet grazed your skin.

***

"What incident? What happened?" You demand, watching Foggy stumble with an answer.

"He got into a car accident." He lies.

"What?" Your voice gets higher.

"He's okay now, pretty beat up but he's okay... At home." Foggy finishes awkwardly, eyes scanning the floor.

"When did that happen?" You pull up the jeans that Foggy brought. New ones. And they fit perfectly. If he wasn't a lawyer then he would've been a great retail worker.

"Last night."

"Were you even going to tell me?"

"The same way you told me about that party?"

Checkmate. Foggy has finally caught you in a corner. "Tell Matt if you see him that I'm really sorry about lying and... I hope that he's okay." You pull on a hoodie and grab your phone. "I'm getting out of here."

"Y/n!" Foggy shouts when you slip out of the ward, knocking the vase with flowers down on your way. You had to leave, you had to go to LA. You couldn't stay here this weekend, and once again, your gut feeling was right - it was best to leave Hell's Kitchen and Fisk, yet not the best decision to leave Matt wounded and alone.

***

"I think so." You reply, turning to look at Max.

"Jeepers, you're down bad for him." He laughs lowly, chest rumbling with the action.

"You weirdo, no one ever says 'jeepers' in a normal conversation."

"Well, in my defense, your Honor, this is not a normal conversation." He mocks and you slightly punch his arm.

"It's such a dick move from me. I didn't even visit him, and his best friend told me about the car accident. I think he hoped I was going to visit him."

Max looks at you intently, calculating his next words. "Do you think he'd want you to visit?"

"I don't know. I kind of wanted him to visit me when I was in the hospital... But at the same time I was glad that he didn't. I mean... We're nothing. We just work together and share the same fucking table in the office. And we had sex..." You rub your face and exhale loudly. "But it's not like we're in a relationship."

"Do you want to be in a relationship with him?" Max asks, a soft smile on his face.

"I wouldn't mind that... But you know me."

"I know that he's not me," Max begins, sitting on the edge of the bed, his back turned on you. "I couldn't win you, and I'm sure you've never had a thought about me that was similar to what you just said about him. So..."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that he has more chances than me, which means that you two can at least try to create something."

"You're somehow both making sense and talking complete nonsense at the same time."

"Hey, it's the alcohol talking." He smiles, leaning back on the bed, his head almost resting in your lap. "But seriously, you should try it."

"Try what?" You chuckle, slowly messing with his curls.

"Being happy."

[writing-for-marvel]

These are all the fics l've read in March. Please go show all these amazing writers some much deserved love! Also please remember to read the warnings for each individual fic

🔥 - smut | 💗 - fluff | 💧 - angst | 😈 - dark

Dividers by @saradika

Bucky Barnes

💗 Peachy Sweet (series) by @straywords

💗 Pie-eyed over you (series) by @themorningsunshine

💧💗 My Little Love (series) by @crazyunsexycool

💧💗🔥 Is This A Crime? (series) by @/crazyunsexycool

🔥 Give It To Me by @flordeamatista

💧 Where’s My Love by @/flordeamatista

💗 Scars To Your Beautiful by @bucky-barnes-diaries

💧💗 You and Me and Us by @jobean12-blog

💗 With Love by @/jobean12-blog

💧💗🔥 Bucky x reader by @soulgazingwithbucky

💗🔥 Face to Face by @venusstorm

💧💗 Barrister Beau’s by @jadedvibes

💧💗 Oversteer by @slyyywriting

💗💧 Luminescent by @rookthorne

💧💗 Protective by @onceuponastory

Steve Rogers

💗 Take a Fucking Hint by @hannibals-favourite-meal

😈🔥 And All Was Lost by @witchywithwhiskey

😈💧 Love Like a Scar by @targaryenvampireslayer

💗 Too Many Wingmen by @beccaanne814

💗🔥 Not-so-lazy Rainy Day by @no-not-without-you-blog

💧💗 Paying It Forward by @kellyn1604

💧💗 I Promise by @saiyanprincessswanie

Joaquin Torres

💗🔥 These Hands Had To by @buckets-and-trees

Augustus Pugliese

💗 augustus pugliese x gn!reader by @rodrikstark

Colin Shea

🔥 Soul Sucker by @sidepartskinnyjeans

Curtis Everett

💧 Soiled by @navybrat817

Ari Levinson

🔥💗 Skin by @/flordeamatista

💗 The Flu by @secretswiftymarvelfan

💧💗 Your Bodyguard by @/secretswiftymarvelfan

💗 “I’m going to carry you to bed if you keep arguing with me about needing sleep.” by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

💗🔥 Ari Levsinson x reader by @imaginedreamwrite

🔥💗💧 Free Practice by @/slyyywriting

💧💗 Open Up by @galatially

Sherlock Holmes (from Enola Holmes)

💗 En Garde by @ithebookhoarder

💧💗 Red Carnation by @shotgunbunny

Joel Miller

💗🔥 Boys In Bed With Books by @/jobean12-blog

💧💗 You’re My Purpose by @mellowsaturns

🔥 Shameless by @lavendertales

[passerine2007]

Annoying - a word you and the notorious golden guard would use to describe each other.

Hunter finds himself stuck with a sadistic and poetic prankster. Though, through thick and thin, he finds your behavior weirdly endearing. You had a way to make people repulsed of you while at the same time making them used to your presence. What can you say? You were just that charming.

"You're crazy!"

"I am mentally hilarious."

----

Read as you and Hunter, just troublesome insufferable kids, learn to embrace the unfamiliar words 'love and affection'.

Wattpad: @passerine2007

Fanfic: The Atrocious Bard and The Little Princeling

[thesevro]

[cassius bellona] us, and now

[HEAVY LIGHTBRINGER SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT] Cassius Bellona/Male Reader Word count: 3.8K words

A depiction of what it would be like to be Cassius's husband. What it would mean to go through what happens to him as the man who married him. Explicitly MLM. In part, you can imagine that Darrow is the husband in reference here.

Hermes: A spinal implant enabled by the technology of the Greens and Yellows of the Rising, empowering the user with the capacity to move at 2 trillion times the speed of light.

—

YOU GRAB HIM before he can leave, the metal in your spine triggering the muscles in your body fast. You reach for him, his arm in your grasp. He turns as you tug at him. Cassius meets your eyes with a nonplussed smile already coming to his face, always your man of golden smiles though utterly confused. His teeth end up meeting yours as you lean forward. The muscles and bones in your jaw clack together with his. You cannot hide your desperation, your fear. Your mouth is harsh as it touches his. Needy. For a moment he only stands there as if he can sense all that you wish to say to keep him here, with you. But you are loyal to him and will let him be loyal to himself in making this choice. 

You feel the breath he steals from the air, from you as he inhales sharply in surprise. Then his hands clasp your body and bruise your waist as he drags you in close. You tip backward on your heels as his other hand comes to the middle of the muscles in your back and drag you from your center of gravity. You shiver at the feel of the tips of his fingers digging into the nape of your neck. He anchors you on your feet, because without the hold of his hands and the strength of his arms around you you would already be on the floor with him. You are not afraid to cling to him. You know you will have to let him go. 

Your lips part to take a breath but Cassius does not let you. He searches for your mouth in those nanoseconds and catches the open part of your lips. His breathing is yours. Your fingers find his curls, rough now with oil and dust but still you will remember that this is him, that this is the man the universe let return to you after a childhood and ten years of wishing to be a man who could bask in his love. A war had come in between. Your blade has touched his throat before. His hands have flowed through movements made to kill you in the past. But those minutes of hatred, all that emptiness, are nothing for the moments that have been before this, and the full ache of love that you have for him now. 

His bottom lip is insistent. He drives his mouth into yours as if it would let him take more of you in, let your breaths replace the oxygen he needs. His head tilts. Mouth moves over yours. You let yourself be weak. Let yourself indulge in sharing this love. 

This is the only time Cassius has allowed himself to be greedy in asking for your love. With his chest to yours his heartbeat encompasses every other sense. The pounding rhythm of his heart matches all else in this moment—the desperation of your mouth on his, the fingers you dig into his shoulders. 

You allow yourself one last nudge of your bottom lip to his. Every inch of your mouth meets every nanometer of his, raw from the kiss and chapped from the blistering dust outside. For one final breath, you bask in and fall deeply into the scent of him, the raw musk of his perspiring skin, the tones of lavender in his hair and the heady scent of sandalwood in the shirt beneath his armor. You send out a promise to the worlds. Let this just be another time you get to breathe him in. There will be more.  

You pull away from him. Your eyes remain closed, but already you hear his lashes flutter as he opens his eyes. 

“Why are you crying?” he murmurs in a throaty voice. “Is the man I love so disgusted by my kisses?”

Your laughter is pained. Cut short as the fear grips you again. 

The fear you rip away from you like a physical thing. You will savor Cassius as he is in this moment, not as what he could be in the future that follows. Here, now, you are his, and he is yours. 

Your eyes open as his forehead comes to yours. You drink him in. You have no wishes, no words, no protests—only so much love for the man you’ve hidden and held love for all your life. 

With his gaze bearing yours, he makes a promise to you. “I will return to you, my love. My lover. My (Name). Do not be afraid for me, for I am only a man of love for you.” 

Your heartbeat echoes against his chest. You feel a whisper coming through as your words and strengthen your voice. There can only be strength in the truth you will give him. “I love you, Cassius.”

He makes a noise of pain. As if he can sense that there will be too much coming between the next time he and you get to share these words. “And I, you, (Name). I love you.”

Your hands linger, linked together, as he leaves. The look you share shows a promise.

And even with all the years you had full of love for him, all the time in between, all the words shared, the burdens passed between you, the wounds stitched by the hands of the other, the hours spent trading stories and living the parts you failed to wander through together in each other’s lives, the worlds move on, move forward, and shatter his promise. The worlds continue without him.

Even with your eyes closed against the glow of the holo, the image burns across your retinas, and you know that you are more a ghost than he is now. You trigger Hermes and leap backward.

—

LYRIA, an outsider's perspective on how Cassius's husband reacted to his death

“Lyria, twelve spidervenom rounds,” Sevro orders then takes off after (Name). “Volga!”

Volga looks at me. I don’t understand Sevro’s panic. Then the clatter of armor shatters our confusion. Volga bolts from her chair.

“Volga!” Sevro calls again. Something slams into the wall in the adjacent hallway. I rush to the weapons room. Can’t see for the tears. Instinct guides me. All the things Cassius taught me through, helped me learn, maneuver my hands and lead my eyes. 

He can’t be dead. The Lune would never be able to manage. But there he hung, limp and lifeless on our screen. The warmth of him has left the worlds. 

A scream from the hangar grips me. I sprint down the halls, following the noise. Grunts and desperate shouts bounce off the wall of Cassius’s ship. 

“Let me go! I need to get him back!” (Name) screams, metal boots slamming into the floor. “I need to get him back!”

Sevro jerks against his friend as (Name) pulls and strains. The veins in Sevro’s neck pop from his skin. Volga’s eyes are wide with focus, desperation. She understands, as I only just did, what it would mean to let (Name) leave this ship. He’d get himself killed trying to reach the Lune’s moonbreaker, if not mowed down by Lunese soldiers who’d cry with laughter at the chance to have the Marooner’s head. 

He has been a friend to Volga and me from the start. Golden goodness, his heart worse in its purity even compared to Cassius’s. We won’t let him go. I don’t think he knows it yet. For (Name), the logic in his actions clicks perfectly like pieces in a puzzle.

“You need to let me go. Sevro!” His face is wet. Tear tracks slide from (Name)’s cheeks to his chin. “Please! You need to let me get him back. We can’t leave him there!”

Sevro and (Name) lock eyes. (Name) reels away from him, almost shocked by the grim set to his best friend’s expression. He pants with exertion worth fighting against a warlord of the Rising and a battle-hardened Obsidian. He pulls again. Sevro and Volga are lifted clean off their feet, but Sevro hauls him down with a hard grunt. (Name)’s knees buckle. His eyes fall on the floor. Then he turns and meets Volga’s gaze. I hear Volga gasp.

“Volga! Volga, you need to let me go,” he says, screaming again as he begins to recognize that they won’t let him leave. “They killed my husband, Volga, please! Let me get him back!”

Volga breaks open, and whether she knows it or not her grip on him loosens. (Name) launches forward, leaving Volga at the entrance to the hall. Sevro hangs on, yelling at (Name).

“Stop it (Name)!”  he yells. “You’ll get yourself killed up there, you bloodydamn bastard!”

Sevro plants his feet, heels practically slamming into the floor. (Name) strains against him. A broken cry claws through the air, leaving (Name) as he pulls and pulls against Sevro. He drags Sevro forward three meters at a time, practically glitching before my eyes as he activates Hermes again and again. Volga sprints. I move faster than her, for once. Finally at the hall, I leap towards them, momentum carrying me past Volga. 

I drive the syringe into the back of (Name)’s neck. Holding the needle pushing enough poison to knock four griffins unconscious into his bloodstream. He barely even seems to feel it, still swimming against mine and Sevro’s tide as he lurches toward the exit of the Archimedes.

Then his arm goes limp in Sevro’s hold. Sevro clings tighter to him, arms around the front of his torso. (Name)’s eyes flutter. Sevro watches the floor as his best friend slowly slumps into his arms. Then he falls to the floor with (Name)’s body. 

Sevro cradles (Name)’s head, his forehead coming to the back of his neck. He holds the man to his body. They’re so close, in mind and soul, that I know Sevro feels just as much of (Name)’s pain as he feels his own for Cassius’s death. Sevro clears his throat.

“Set coordinates for Sungrave. We need to get Darrow,” he says, taking charge. His eyes are dead. We say nothing of the man who just died in the skies above us. 

I head to the cockpit to pilot Cassius’s ship.

—

There are cracks in you that grow further fissured on the day his ship passes through your scanners. The three in your party are men of silence. You more than the two standing next to you as you await boarding permission. There is nothing to share in words. Only in grief. 

Your body remains in another time, in other moments, with each step you take through the ship. You smell the coffee Cassius likes from the percolator in the sparse kitchen area. The machine has been dead for days. All you can remember are his hands turning the knobs, grinding coffee, guiding you through a technique you cannot for the life of you remember. You brace yourself on the counter as you approach the coffeemaker, nearly driven to your knees at the pull of memory and in knowing that you will never share another morning, another smile, another breath with him. He is but a memory, even if he was everything to you.

His fingerprints remain on the percolator. Your own fingers trace over them, sharing a final touch that will be lost to the eternities ahead because he is dead. 

Darrow and Sevro let you take your time. In reality, you are simply too familiar with yourself. You cannot handle the other body that lies aboard the ship.

The Lune had mangled him. Torn your golden boy to pieces. Hanged him from a rope and let his body sway. You cannot imagine the heavy flop of his corpse as they cut the body from the rope to bring it here. 

You do not want to remember him as that dead body. He was Cassius Bellona for his soul. His body has left the worlds, but the man he was will remain with you. 

For an hour, you sit in his bedroom. You don’t visit the holos saved on the ship. Those recordings are only digital, borderline fakes of the actual memory of being with him. You will only be an outsider watching those moments in the bedroom, looking in through holographic glass as you kiss your husband, write a story for him while he rests with his head on your chest. You will have to bear witness to a life you will never live again because your husband is dead.

There are photos on the wall. Printed versions, not holographic renditions. Slowly, you take your eyes off the floor and bring your gaze to the pictures. A broken sob leaves you. 

He is so young in the picture. The golden boy you became brother and best friend to and wholeheartedly bloom with love for. And so are you. The weight of war and broken planets does not hang in your laughing eyes. In his, you are his planet, his universe. The affection in his bright eyes leaves you breathless, as if he were standing before you now, gazing at you with that same love. Across time, across the worlds, past his death, his love remains. 

You remember asking about this picture. Cassius told you this was one of his favorites. 

“I can’t believe you couldn’t tell then,” he said. “You were much like a brother to me, sure. But I loved you for more than that.” He gesticulated wildly at the photo. “Bloodydamn, imagine that! I was looking at you this way for an entire year!”

You also recall the lovely jest he’d made after to let you slip his hand in your underwear. “My most favorite is the one where I have you reaching climax as I ride you.”

Your body leads where your mind cannot. You come close to the pictures, brushing your fingers over the image of your beautiful husband in his youth. It comes to you as instinct, not as a memory. Your fingers move from his chin to his cheek. If he were here now, he would tilt his head into your palm as you reached to cradle his cheek. And for him, that too would be instinct. 

“We were supposed to grow old together,” you murmur to the boys in the picture. “We’re only thirty-four, Cassius.” The sob in your chest punches through your throat. Warmth floods down your cheeks as you begin to cry. “I wanted to have you until a hundred. You promised me a hundred and forty three. Impossible bastard.

“Gods, you promised.” Your knees give out and you hit the ground, hard. And in his bedroom, where he and you once shared love with one another as married men, you unleash your grief. Your sobs leave you as screams.

—

Your best friend sits with his arms propped on his knees at the door to the room Cassius’s body is held in. He leans on the wall, eyes opening as your footsteps fill the room. There is more weight to him now, more even than when he received news of Pax’s kidnapping or Virginia’s capture. You cannot imagine his burden, what the weight of all of his combined grief would feel like. He stands as you enter. 

Darrow doesn’t move towards you. He knows that to touch you would invite hell upon himself. But he is wrong. You reach for him, and he must see something on your face, something more than the grief, something that only he and you share. He moves to you and grips you in a hard embrace. And the tears leave you to stain the home of your lone beloved with your pain once again.

“I—” There is no sense to you. Could there ever even be now, when your husband is gone? “I shouldn’t have let him go. I was right there. I let him go. I let him leave. It's all my fault.”

Darrow stops you before you can continue to blame yourself. He holds you tight against him. 

“(Name),” your best friend, your brother in everything but blood; ArchImperator of the Republic you have given your life to; the man whose son you are third-in-line as godfather to speaks, more solemn than you have ever seen him, “This is not your fault.” 

You hope he can promise you that.

—

He lies there on the cold metal. His eyes are closed. And he is dead. Reds like Lyria or your regular Gray would not be able to smell it. But you know Cassius’s smell, and you know what rot tastes like in your nostrils. It is faint. But it comes from him. You swallow the vomit that races up your throat.

“I’ll leave you two be,” Darrow murmurs from behind you, speaking as if Cassius is still alive. He squeezes your hip, hand lingering. You do not ask him to stay. And he understands there are conversations only you and Cassius should share. 

Even when he has left, you do not break. Seeing Cassius again, even in death, has brought you clarity, though you cannot comprehend it. 

You approach him. Part of you expects him to bolt upright on the table and greet you with a smile. You lurch forward, expectant. But his lips are blue now. Being sent straight into the sun to burn would hurt so much less than this. 

“Cassius,” you murmur. Your voice reaches only your ears. A dead body does not hear.

The feel of him is the same, just a little bit heavier as you grip his hand. He is cold. Limp. Still his fingers are as rough as you remember, hardened by years of wielding the blade he was born to be and manipulate. But to you, these hands held nothing but all the love you’ve felt in your life as his husband.

“You wouldn’t let me apologize, wouldn’t you?” If you were here. “So… so I won’t. In fact, this choice you made let you be loyal to who you are. Isn’t that it, Cassius? You’ve always been true to yourself. We called you a turncloak, two-faced, but everything you did, everything you said, was always honest. You’ve never lied to us. I’ll always be grateful for that.” When he helped kill Octavia, the Sovereign he swore his life to, he did it not because of Darrow’s influence or Virginia’s, but because he felt that it was right—that he would not only be avenging those in his family of Bellona who had been murdered by that Sovereign, but that he would be owning up to becoming a part of what is right. To most, he is the Betrayer. He destroyed figureheads of the Society and the Rising and knocked both off their feet. Though what most cannot comprehend is that Cassius was simply following what he thought was right. He believed Octavia could provide stability to the people, so he killed Ares. She did not, and so he killed her. All Cassius has ever done, he did in the name of honor. Through the grief in your eyes, you look at him with utter pride. 

“My love. I wish you didn’t have to leave. You haven’t even met Pax or Sevro’s daughters yet.” You brush a thumb over the angular apple of his cheek. He is cold beneath your fingers. “We haven’t had our own children. There are so many things we weren’t able to do. We had so much ahead of us, and I can’t help but think that you abandoned me for the rest of it.”

Cassius lived a life of honor. Though he could not honor you and your dreams, the life you could see for the two of you as husbands, he died in the name of being true to what is right. That is why he spoke with Lysander. That is why he died for it. 

In life and in death, you could not love him more. 

“What did you say to him before you died?” you murmur, more to yourself. Maybe part of you has begun to accept that he is dead, and that none of your questions will be answered until you meet him again, somewhere else, at some other time. “I wonder. What did he tell you? What made Lysander feel that hanging the man who raised him for half his life would be right?

“Can I kill him, Cassius?” Would that avenge Cassius? Would it make losing your husband right? If it would, and if you knew for concrete fact it would, you’d put your blade in Lysander in a heartbeat. “He killed you. His brother. My husband. Would he even be able to work with us? Would he be able to see reason, as you did?

“Gods, I hate you. You gave your life to honor. I wish you could have given it to me.” You look away from him for the first time. “I imagined a quieter death for us, Cassius. Our children and Sevro’s and Victra’s and Darrow’s and Virginia’s would stand before Uncle Cassius’s bedside someplace in the woods on Mars, crying because they know that the best man they’ll ever know needs to go. Darrow would cry the hardest and I would have to be the one to pull him away from you. Then I and our children would carry you to our ship and send you to the sun in your last act of honor. Somehow, I would follow soon after.” You wish you could have lived the fullness of that life. Of being a father alongside Cassius and an uncle to the children of your best friends. You wish you could cherish mornings finally off a ship, finally sharing his favorite coffee with him amongst tall trees with grass between your toes, not the metal floor of a warship. To hear his jokes come sincerely as part of this scenery of peace, not with the tense edge of a man afraid of the death that would come for him aboard a ship heading to war or in a cell or on the field amongst soldiers desperate for a kill. You wonder what it would be like to laugh with him in peace, without his jests being a balm to your fear of losing one another in the war.

“I’ve never known peace with you, Cassius.” You nearly break all over again at the thought. But there is gratitude to be found in the life you had with him, a life rife with war yet made full by him. “And yet I’ve known you afraid, hateful, desperate, joyful, happy, content, peaceful. Hah. Honorable." You let yourself laugh for one last time with him. “I’ve known every side of you in war. Though we were never married in a time of peace, I still got to love every part of you.

“Thank you for that.” You press a kiss to his lips. To his cheek. To both his closed eyes. Then to his forehead, where the crest of everything that made him your beautiful husband used to reside. You kiss the golden band on his finger, the one thing that connected you to him as he died. It is your last act of love before you honor him with a Sundeath on your return to Mars. There will be no grave for you to visit. But a light to look up to, until the end of your own days. “I love you, Cassius.”

Fin.

Comment to mourn with me bro AKAKJAKJA I've been mourning since August... Thoughts and prayers for Cassius as well as your own thoughts on how I wrote this are very important to me les go bro 💌 Been rereading Light Bringer to pregame for Red God. Might we see Darrow ask Lysander about Cassius's last words while they fight yada yada? I even hashed out an entire playlist for that scene so I can play all these sad songs while he dies as such listen to "Skyfall" by Adele or the orchestral cover of "Salvatore" by Lana del Ray when you read that scene. This series has been with me since I was 10. I'm shittin' tears bro now your boy is in uni... Ronan out

[slxsherwriter]

Unexpected Discoveries

Fandom: The Munsters (2022)

Pairings: Dr. Henry Augustus Wolfgang/female reader

Word Count: 3,678

Warnings: None, mentions of bad relationships with family

Author's note: While the movie left a lot to be desired, I thoroughly enjoyed Richard's performance. This may be a little self-indulgent, but I hope someone enjoys it. Gif taken from tenor. Credit here.

A sigh of relief past your lips as you stepped off of the plane. Finally, away from everything in your old life. It was a fresh start, much needed after the last argument you had with your family and friends. Transylvania may seem like an odd choice to most, it wasn't like it was a travel destination. But to you, it was the perfect choice to be able to get away. No one would think to come look for you here. It was the perfect place to be able to hide, to be able to start over, to live without expectation or to be the disappointment amongst your friends and your family.

The disappointment had started young. You had decided at an early age that you were not going to follow in the footsteps of your family and go into law or politics. Both occupations had seemed far too boring. Plus, watching your mother and father run around and live a constant life of stress was not something you wished to emulate. Your interests lay much more in the science fields. Much to their chagrin and horror. There wasn't money to be made in science according to them, there wasn't any power. Those were the things that constantly mattered, money and power it was all you heard about. Your family had a name that you needed to live up to, that you were expected to live up to and anything shy of that was a tremendous disappointment. The disappointments kept coming. 

Next, it was that you didn't get into the family school. Acceptance into the Ivy Leagues could be traced back for generations. Hell, you are pretty sure your family had funded half the schools for those same generations. In that same time frame, it had been expected that you would date and subsequently marry someone from your father's law firm. A young man from a wealthy family whose name ranked just as high as your own. Your parents never believed in the concept of soulmates, and tried to make sure that they passed such ideas along to you. But that had never worked. Well your parents had tried their best to control your grouping of friends and what you were exposed to, they were unable to control everything. You made friends with those that they wouldn't have approved of, and from there we're exposed to the truth of soulmates. It was hard to deny the existence of such things when those who had experienced it were able to tell you first hand, there was living proof that soulmates existed.

Of course, even in that area of life you had to be a disappointment. While most of those friends had found their soulmates by 18 or 19, you remain single and waited though it never seemed that you were going to get your chance to meet your soulmate. A reality that was hard to accept, but now that you were in your 30s and it still hadn't happened it was becoming harder and harder to deny. Both by yourself and by your friends. They were starting to tell you that maybe you shouldn't wait, that you weren't destined to find whoever it was that you were meant to be with. Or that that individual never really existed, that you were one of the unfortunate ones that didn't have somebody out there for you

After a few harsh arguments between both you and your parents and you and your friends, you decided that you needed a new start. Somewhere far away where nobody would bother looking for you and you'd be able to do what you wanted with your life. There wouldn't be anybody looming over you to tell you you were doing something wrong, or that you needed to get your head out of the clouds. So Transylvania it was.

Perhaps it would seem random to most but to you it was an almost logical choice. The country itself was beautiful, and as much as you loved science you always had a fascination with the supernatural and superstitions. Any sort of creature lore you had devoured especially as a young child and the enjoyment that you got out of such Tales continued into your adulthood. So why not go somewhere that combined both?

Now that you were here, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. A true sense of freedom that had never quite been present before. It was an odd feeling but one that you found you quickly enjoyed. Bags still in hand as you wandered the airport, you tried to decide where you were going and what you were going to do next. Sure you had the forethought to have lined up a job, but you hadn't exactly lined up any accommodations or a place to live. Counterintuitive in a way but it was what it was. A lot of this had been a fly by the seam of your pants sort of decision. Not that you were upset about that now that you were here, it just simply meant not entirely being sure what to do or where to go. But that was half of the adventure.

In the spirit of the entire move, you just decided to choose a place at random after asking a kind man at the airport where he recommended. Apparently there was a hostel that had some openings. A good a place as any to start. 

*****

It had taken a little time to settle in, find a place of your own, and a routine. Of course, it was known that would be the case but it was easier to say it than experience it. Still, the complications and hardships did not deter you. Not with the deep-seated need to prove everyone wrong and well, finally be able to experience the freedom and control over your own life without harsh judgement. 

Everyone you had met so far had been lovely. A sort of kind and generous nature to most that left you feeling far more at home than you ever had growing up. Even if things weren't easy in those first few weeks. 

You found yourself a small home that was deeper into the countryside than you had originally intended to go. But the price fit and it had come along at the right time. There wasn't much for you to furnish it with but it hardly mattered. You were far too giddy at the prospect of having your own place and exploring the city that was a bit of a drive.

Feeling eager and excited, as you had about everything since your arrival, you got the keys, settled your few meagre belongings into the space, and headed off to explore. Things seemed a little odd as you made your way into the city. It was the best fitting word that you could come up with, though it felt a little unjust at the same time. Just because it wasn't something you were used to didn't make it odd. Especially now that you were in a new country. A gentle reminder to yourself as you pulled the car to a stop.

All thoughts flew out the window though as soon as the behemoth of a man passed by you, followed by a woman that was actually floating. It wasn't some cheap parlour trick, she was physically floating through the air with her feet an actual foot off of the ground. Natural curiosity got the best of you, along with a deep sense of wonder. Any self preservation skills had long ago been abandoned. 

As you moved through the city, you were getting odd looks. Though, you could understand. Being the odd one out and all amongst a group of individuals that you weren't entirely sure you understood. It was like you had walked into some massive Halloween party but the thing was, everyone was going about their business as if it was the most mundane day in all of existence. Some street vendors were hawking their goods but it wasn't like anything you had ever seen. Bottles of blood, bugs by the dozens, shrunken heads, and an entire booth dedicated to potions?

A whole new world. Quite literally. Things here were far too elaborate and people weren't paying all that much attention to you, so it hardly seemed like something that was planned and put on for show. The fact was more of less cemented when a woman, who was holding her own head, bumped into you, and began apologizing. The head head that was. She was speaking directly. No tricks, no mirrors, nothing. Where did you find yourself? A disbelieving laugh escaped your lips. Maybe you had died in a plane crash before even making it here. Either way, you wanted to know everything. How to start? Where to start? Would people take kindly to questions? Especially from an outsider. That was a big one. Thoughts swirled like a gathering storm, picking up speed and momentum as you were assaulted with new things everywhere you looked. A proverbial sea to be lost in. 

And lost in it you were. For several hours. All before you were able to find a kindly skeleton that offered to both show you around and pass along some vital information. What a relief that was. While it wouldn't clear everything up, starting to understand it all was helpful. 

That lasted right up to the point that you glanced down to help pick up something that had been dropped and noticed the red string around your finger. As if your heart stopped beating for just a moment, breath caught in your throat, you couldn't help but stare in disbelief. Halfway around the world and having nearly given up on the idea, here you were, close to your soulmate. Well, maybe not all that close but within a distance that could easily be covered. 

As you stared at the string, your body was frozen. A decision on what to do next had to be made. There were two options. Rapidly search to try and find who was on the other side of that string or see if they came to find you while casually strolling and trying to sort out who it was. Not an easy decision. Frantically rushing and seeming panic was probably not a good idea amongst the individuals that surrounded you. But at the same time, this was something you had dreamed about for years and years. 

Absently handing over the items that you had helped to pick up, you decided to do a combination of the two. Giving the string a gentle tug, you began to follow it, hoping against hope that whoever it was ended up being close.

It was beginning to get busier in the area, leaving your heart frantically fluttering. The possibility that you could miss meeting, that this could be the one shot that slipped through your fingers caused your throat to constrict for just a second. Reminding yourself to take deep breaths, you dutifully followed, hoping that the string would come to an end soon. For a moment, it seemed to get taunt, as if someone was pulling on it, or moving further away. Could it snap? Would it just disappear if the person left the vicinity? You didn't have the answers to these questions. It wasn't like it was something you would have thought to ask any of your friends or their parents when you would have been able to pick their brains. You were all alone both literally and figuratively while trying to figure this out.

No one paid you much mind, their focus on whatever it was that had them out and about. That worked in your favor. It granted you the time to weave between bodies, duck under displays, and in general move unencumbered. Unsure how long the string would be or if the other had even noticed it, you gripped it carefully in your hands as you followed. The sights, the sounds, the smells would have been overwhelming as the crowd continued to grow and close in on you. But all of your focus was solely narrowed down to finding who was on the other end of the string.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you saw a figure standing on the other end. It was hard to make out any distinct details through the crowd, bodies blocking a good deal of your view. There was somebody alongside the figure, and the two seem to be in a rather heated discussion. You were still too far away to make out what that discussion was. Just a little closer, all you needed to do was move a little closer and you might be able to catch his attention. It was definitely a man, and he was certainly far taller than you. It was the only thing that you were able to make out about him. Though it wasn't exactly a difficult detail to decipher. You tried to be polite, push through the bodies and make your way closer but none of it was working. The man gained some distance ahead of you as you were nearly knocked to the ground by some sort of being that you couldn't recognize. There could be no time dedicated to the thought of the being or figuring out exactly what it was. Not when the man on the other end of the string was growing further away once more.

Giving up on all pretence of being polite, you forced Your Way Forward squeezing between bodies and hurrying along. You weren't going to miss this opportunity, especially not since you now had finally laid eyes on your soulmate. For all the bitching and the moaning and the lies your parents had tried to tell you, your proof was finally standing just a few feet in front of you. It seemed that he hadn't even noticed the string attached to his finger, but as they made to turn down a different street his companion seemed to pick up on the fact. Whoever was beside him was quick to point it out. While your soulmate looks down at the string the man beside him glanced back, following the string for his eyes landed on you. Stopping dead in your tracks, you weren't sure what to do. Did you wave? Did you continue forward? It was like everything in your body decided to stop working all at once, leaving you frozen to your spot. Like a damn idiot. All the scenarios that had played out in your head, all of the dreams and hopes that you had for the moment, none of them were like this.

Then, he looked up and towards you. If you thought that you couldn't breath before, it was nothing compared to that very moment. Two of the bluest eyes that you had ever seen were locked right on you. Everything else faded to the background. The buzz and hum of the people around you? None of it really reached your ears. The way that his companion was shaking his shoulder didn't pull his attention away either. 

Like your brain had decided to kickstart and remember what it meant to act like a living, breathing thing with a brain in the first place, finally you were moving forward. The action didn't take a lot of thought of course. And you had no idea what you were going to say to the man. But here the chance that you had dreamed of for so long. Sounding like you could at least put a coherent sentence together was important, which meant that you had to very quickly compose yourself. Otherwise, things could go south just as quickly.

"Hello," you murmured, thankful that the word at least came out sounding competent. That was the first win, one out of hopefully a few more to come. Your eyes dropped down to the string that was still connecting the two of you. Something so seemingly innocuous as a piece of string. But, it had shifted your entire world. If you were lucky, he would be feeling the same way. Nothing was expected to happen right away. All you wanted was a chance to be able to get to know the man. From there, things could be determined. 

"Well, hello." His voice had just a little bit of a rasp to it. A pleasant sound. Before he could say anything else though, and he had been ready to, his companion jumped right in. His hand appeared in front of you and he had put himself slightly in front of your soulmate. 

"Hi there! What's your name? I'm Foop." You blinked for a moment, the violent shift in reality catching you off guard. But, you managed a polite smile and shook his head, eyes jumping between the two men, answering the question and shaking his hand. It was the kind thing to do after all. And if Foop was spending time with your soulmate, well there was a chance that you would be spending time with him. Best to start off on the right foot. There was a passing frustration and annoyance on the other's face, as if the interruption was unwarranted. Not that you couldn't help but feel a little bit of the same but as the enthusiasm continued to come from the man, you also felt a twinge of amusement. It was endearing to a degree. 

"Yes, that is quite nice Foop. Why don't you go off and gather the things on that list. Think you can manage that?" Foop looked between you both before nodding.

"Yeah, you got it, doctor." He gave you a wave, smiling brightly before heading off. Now that you were more or less alone, you could have the first proper discussion. 

"You'll have to excuse Foop. He is useful, but he is simple. Allow me to introduce myself, Dr. Henry Augustus Wolfgang." He dipped his head forward before motioning for the both of you to move to the side. Shuffling off so you would be out of the way of the moving crowds, you were sheltered against a building and under an overhang. He had mentioned his title when he introduced himself, and you wouldn't help but feel curious. Doctor of what? The title could apply to numerous things. Hopefully, of the sciences. You could have a shared interest there. "I can't recall having seen you around before. Beyond the…rather obvious reasons." 

"I've only recently arrived in Transylvania," you offered in response. Perhaps fate had helped you make that final decision. In that moment, you had never been more happy to have listened to your gut.

"Yes, well, that would explain it." His brow furrowed for just a moment, jaw going slack and lips parting before silently falling shut once more. Another moment passed before he nodded. "How long have you been here?"

"In the country? About a month now. I have only recently moved to the area though." Did you tell him where you just purchased a house? Was that smart or safe? Probably not, soulmate or not, but the words were slipping before you could really give it serious thought. "A little cottage on the edge of the forest about fifteen minutes outside of town." 

"The old James place, then?" A gentle shrug was given.

"I can honestly say I didn't inquire into the history or the previous family too much. It fell within my price range and got me out of the hostel that I have been staying at since my arrival. Not that the accommodations haven't been lovely but having a space of my own was becoming needed." His eyes roamed over you, thoughtful as his lips pursed. 

"Charles was quite a bright fellow, a scientist in his own right. Not that he ever did anything groundbreaking but the poor fellow threw his hat into the ring often." He chuckled, as if the very thought of the now deceased man was amusing to him. Odd, but not off putting. 

"There wasn't much left in the home, so it was hard to decipher what might have happened or the predilections of the previous owners. But it would be fitting that I would buy a scientist's home." A small laugh accompanied the words. Oh, if only your parents could see you now. "Perhaps a discussion for another time," you offered when he went to inquire what had been amusing about the comment, though from the way that his brow furrowed once more and his jaw clenched, it was perhaps a good idea to offer a little bit of history.

"My parents hardly approved of the sciences. Especially when it came to my own studies. I find it…amusing is all that I would happen upon such a house." His posture relaxed some. He had said he was a doctor, maybe he had been thinking that you were insulting the sciences. You could have really stuck your foot in your mouth if he hadn't allowed you to offer up that last bit. 

"Own studies?" He turned and offered his arm. "Perhaps that discussion for another time could take place now. My business can be delayed. I know just the place to grab a bite to eat." You were positively thrilled at his offer to spend more time together and get to know one another. At least, that was what you hoped it was. A lot of faith was being given to the fact that you were soulmates but the trust was inherent. While he could have used it to harm you, something told you that such an act wouldn't happen. So, you took his arm with a small smile. 

"I think that sounds like a lovely idea." 

[wizardfrog69]

Hello! I really liked your giving/leaving hickeys headcannon! What about collecting/keeping s/o's underwear/stockings/gloves for mtp boys? Thank you and please take care of yourself! Have a wonderful day! <3

Thank you for the request! Have a wonderful day too! :) <3

'•.¸♡ keepsake ♡¸.•'

Mtp x gn!reader

Mostly fluffy but there are mentions of nsfw!!! So be cautious

Feat. William, Louis, Albert, Sherlock, John, Charles.

William James Moriarty:

Ok so like he keeps or collects any peice of clothing which you leave either on accident or you don't notice it has gone missing.

Mostly your stockings go missing usually never to be seen again.

What does he do with them? You may be asking, well no one knows the answer to that and no one ever will.

He keeps them when he feels lonely and wants something which reminds him of you and also like he finds it almost humours that you're going home without any stockings on.

Also he's a theif at heart, stealing not only the lives of many and your clothes but also your love.

Louis James Moriarty:

His s/o probably left their gloves or something at his place and he say it one day and kept them to be more close to them yk.

Idk why that's the only thing I said in 3rd person but oh well.

Like he doesn't know if he should give them back or like tell you, but if you say that you can't find those gloves or something similar then he would awkwardly say he found them and he ment to give them back but it completely slipped his mind.

But yeah like he wouldn't do it on purpose just on accident kinda.

Albert James Moriarty:

This little rascal would probably take your underwear and tease you about it.

For example, the two of you were having a quicky somewhere outside of the house and when you were getting dressed he would steal your underwear either to tease you or as 'punishment' for something you did earlier.

He would later either forget about it or would keep it for good measure.

If you tried to take it back then there would be more ✨️teasing✨️.

I'm using that word too much.

Sherlock Holmes:

Maybe he keeps a pair of their s/o's underwear just to tease them but other than that I don't really see him keep anything of their's really yk.

Or like you left something in his apartment so to speak, and it stayed there forever ot until he moves out which is unlikely tbh.

John H. Watson:

He's not the type to collect or keep anything of his s/o's, if they leave something then he will tell them and give it to them.

Therefore I'm gonna say random stuff to fool you into thinking I actually put some thought behind this >:)

I'm listening to the phantom of opera rn cuz it's an amazing film, my favourite ones are the 2004 and 1989 I think Christine was great in that movie, I think Christine is great in both the movies tbh.

I also watched the 1925 one, it was a silent film which I definitely finished, but they did Erik so dirty in that one, like he had no mask, and in the 1989 version Erik literally killed someone with his face 💀 I wish I was joking I love that movie so much. But if you want to listen to some great music then I recommend the 2004 one but if you rather see rats and a random rat man then the 1989 one, it's amazing.

Enough about my rant, enjoy the rest of the fic! :)

Charles Augustus Milverton:

He collects your whole wardrobe in a weird pervert way

Like everytime he's over he steals an item of clothing from you, but only one so you don't notice (unless it's like a pair the he steals the pair but that's beside the point)

He has a special drawer for all your things.

༺♡༻ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⋆ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 ༺♡༻

Sorry I got lazy again, pls ignore the John part but honestly I could write so much about the phantom of the opera like that shit is a fucking master piece and wanna get the book.

[donottouchredbutton]

This is a Legal Rom-Com

Part 2

augustus “pug” pugliese x reader, matt murdock x reader, matt murdock x jennifer walters

1.8k words

you moved out to la after a certain ex of yours returned from the dead seeking a drastic change of scenery and time to focus on your career. you didn’t expect to become victim of the gross cliche of an oblivious office romance, nor did you expect to become coworkers with a known green attorney or for her to reintroduce you to that same resurrected ex

You hadn’t worked with Jen Walters for long, but she had quickly proved to be a breath of fresh air among the stuffy corporate slaves that made up GLK+H. Although her She-Hulk persona was a bit strange to get used to, it was her passion and goal to uphold the law and help people that really spoke to you. She was driven and funny and friendly, so it didn’t take the two of you long to become friends. 

In fact, with the additions of Nikki and Pug, you quickly became the driving force for the Superhero Division of the firm. You were a team. You were friends. You had soon become people who knew each other inside and out.

Which is why it didn’t take long for Jen to catch on to your and Pug’s very obvious feelings for each other. The way you two naturally paired off together, ate off each other’s plates at lunch, spent many sleepless and grueling nights at the office together, knew each other’s favorite takeout place and how you took your coffee and tea by heart, it was clear as day to her. 

And apparently it was clear to everyone except you two. Your shy glances and heart eyes? Nah. The way Pug follows you around the office like a lost puppy? Nope. The way you make sure to leave a fresh hot coffee on Pug’s desk every morning? Nuh uh. The way you and Pug practically hang off each other when the four of you have a night out at the bar? Fuck no. You two were oblivious.

Unknown to you, however, Pug was working on remedying that. While he wasn’t sure if you actually liked him back or not, he was baffled that you didn’t know that he liked you. Jen and Nikki were always telling him how obvious he clearly liked you (which he knew), but he tried to be obvious too. He complimented that new perfume you got last week. He lets you use his lap as a footrest when the two of you are going over paperwork for a case. He shushes your coworkers when they talk over you or try to interrupt. He gives you his lunch when he notices you haven’t eaten yet. He pretends to be your damn boyfriend when a weird guy approaches you at the bar and dreams about what it would be like if it was real. The man is smitten with you. And he wanted you to know.

Jen had invited you all out to the bar that night after a irritating day with her family. Pug thought that was perfect for him to finally ask you out. She had mentioned something about bringing a friend along (even though she heavily implied that he wasn’t quite a friend but more of a friend if Nikki’s inappropriate use of emojis were anything to go by), but Pug was sure that they could spare a moment of privacy for the two of you. He hoped they would be happy to - the other half of your team always rooted for you to get together. 

He and Nikki had settled down at one of the tables at the corner of the bar having been the first ones to arrive. He knew you were almost there, but no one had heard from Jen what the ETA for her and her friend was. Not that it mattered, it just meant he didn’t know when he could go about his plan. Not that he had to go by his exact plan, but he hoped he wouldn’t have to improvise. 

The sound of the door opening distracted Pug from his conversation with Nikki, and he was glad to see you enter the room. The smile you held on your face when you found them made his hands sweat, quickly wiping them against his pants as you nearly glided across the room. You waved back at Nikki who he hadn’t realized was calling you over. 

“Evening, strangers,” you greeted when you were within earshot. Both of them stood to welcome you with hugs before handing you your drink. “Jen’s not here yet?”

“Haven’t heard from her in a couple hours,” Nikki shrugged, topping off her own drink with the pitcher they ordered. 

“I’m sure they’ll be here soon,” Pug added, his leg bouncing up and down beneath the table. A nervous habit.

A nervous habit that you were privy to. You knew he only did that when something was bothering him. You leaned against his end of the booth and placed your hand on his shoulder soothingly. “You doing okay?”

He looked up at you in surprise at your question before noticing what his leg was doing. Shit. He was quick to stop his leg’s antics before brushing you off. “Yeah, perfect. Just happy to be here.” 

The smile on his face didn’t do much to convince you, but it was easy as ever to get lost in it. You always felt so at ease around him that you let yourself ignore his obvious lie, and the three of you were fast to get into your normal rhythm. Nikki definitely carried the conversation, but it was nice for you all to unwind and chat with each other while waiting for Jen and her friend. 

In fact, your conversation always went back to her “friend.” Nikki was so excited about the “not a relationship but still kind of a relationship” relationship between the two of them that she tried her hardest to always revert the topic back to them. She probably told you and Pug more than she should have about their brief but eventful time together. You would’ve felt bad about how much she was telling you if you weren’t just as excited. You knew how lonely Jen was sometimes even though she assured it didn’t bother her. You were more than happy to hear that she had a friend who was maybe more than a friend.

“You should’ve seen his walk of shame,” Nikki tried to say through her giggles. “His outfit was a sight.”

You and Pug could hardly contain your laughter at her story either. “That poor woman. She really attracts some characters,” you joked. Pug swatted at your arm at your words.

“Some characters, sure, but you should’ve heard her after the fact. She was more than satisfied.”

Your laughter was briefly interrupted by Nikki’s phone chiming, and she revealed a text from Jen that said just pulled up! The wide smirk on her face told you she was going to roast the living hell out of her best friend once she was revealed to the “friend.” Jen didn’t stand a chance, and you were ready for the show.

You guys resumed chatting as you awaited the pair of the hour to come in. Mostly you were predicting what he would be like and more importantly how Jen would be acting. She could be wonderfully awkward, especially around a guy she was interested in. 

The sound of Jen’s voice approaching caught the table’s attention, you all turning to face the new presence. The sound of a walking stick clattering to the ground filled the air, and your eyes were caught by a very familiar pair of red sunglasses.

“Matt?” You couldn’t help his name from leaving you in such a shocked manner, but by the looks of him, he was just as surprised. His eyebrows were raised in disbelief, and you knew he knew you were there. He breathed your name in return, and you could hardly register your team looking between the two of you strangely. All of your initial excitement was nowhere to be found. Everything around you was happening in a blur except for him.

“What are you doing here?” Matt asked. He didn’t even move to pick up his cane, and he didn’t seem to pay attention to when Jen grabbed it for him. His only focus was on you.

“Uh, I was invited,” you stuttered. “What are you doing here?”

“So was I,” he answered, and it was then you noticed the arm that was threaded through his. Your friend’s arm. Shit.

“I’m sorry,” Nikki interrupted the awkward moment, voicing what everyone else was thinking. “You two know each other?”

So... here was the thing about you and Matt.

You and him went to college together. In fact, you were from Hell’s Kitchen originally. Lived there your entire life up until your big move to the west coast, and you couldn’t deny that he was part of that reason. See, up until when you moved, you had been in a very committed and loving relationship with the man in front of you since law school. You had practically planned out your entire future together. Your last name had been the one between Nelson and Murdock. You were one of the few people he trusted unconditionally, and one of the many that he cared about like it was his job. And you were one of the few who knew about his activities after dark.

If Matt remembered far enough back, he could confirm that you were the first person he ever told he was Daredevil. Granted, he had tumbled through your window in the middle of the night covered in blood one night and scared the living daylights out of you, but you were first nonetheless. He had trusted you enough then to keep his secret, and you honored that trust every day of your life since by keeping it safe. You would probably still be with him in Hell’s Kitchen if it weren’t for his own vicious ex, a faked death that seems more than cliche to think about, and the revelation that he would never have told you his secret had he not tumbled into your apartment that night.

So, yeah. You knew each other.

“Well, um,” you tried, not sure what you were supposed to say. You never thought you’d have to say anything - you never thought that you’d see him again. “We, uh… Matt and I used to date…”

You had trailed off on your statement, and you immediately noticed multiple reactions. Jen and Nikki reacted as expected, their eyes widening and mouths hanging open enough to catch flies. Matt, even though you tried not to watch him, was pursing his lips and fiddling with his cane awkwardly. And Pug was… frowning? He looked genuinely upset, and you couldn’t figure out why.

Your skin burned and you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. You had never been in such an uncomfortable situation, and you once had witnessed Matt giving stitches to his ex girlfriend in your shared bed. Everyone refused to meet everyone else’s eyes trying to figure out how to address the elephant in the room. You nearly turned tail and ran out of there, but luckily or not, Jen spoke up first.

She formally introduced Matt to Nikki and Pug, intentionally skipping you before saying, “Clearly we have some things to be caught up on. Why don’t we sit down, have a drink, and you two can tell us more?”

Shit.