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take-everything-you-can · 2 months ago

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Put Your Head On My Shoulder

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5 l Part 6

A/N: This has been a year in the making and it is finally here. Thank you to every single one of you, I truly think this would have been dust in the wind if I didn't have the support of all of you. A special thanks to my loves @lesservillain , @ghost-proofbaby , @hellfire--cult and @keeryhours for beta reading and letting me talk to you of any and all ideas before I put pen to paper (finger to key) P.S : THIS STORY IS 18+ MINORS NEED TO GTFO PLEASE AND THANK YOU !!!!! Also please remember to like and reblog from your creators It keeps the fandom alive !!! ( honestly don't know what I would do without y'all )

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader ( Pumpkin )

Summary: A 1950's daydream of malt shop kisses and doo wop singles far behind closed doors. Dreamboat Eddie Munson picks up more than just an extra route. A love that makes you weak in the knees... but how long can you go on loving a man that isn't the one you're married to.

TW: Angst- mentions of an affair (adultery), verbal abuse mentions, (mentions of food within the story throughout), disordered eating, feeling unloved, self-deprecation slightly, staying with toxic partner, depressive episode, throwing things and tears. Fluff- pet names, domestic bliss, mutual pining, sweet talk, caring in silence. Smut- fingering, female oral, soft touches, male oral, unprotected PIV, cream pie. ...... if you see any please let me know ... Thank you all so much. ( every chapter will get updated tw)

WC: 6.3K

The heavy tread heading down the stairs wakes you up yet again—an alarm clock of sorts in how Jason goes about his daily routine.

Although sleep had never found you the night before, your mind raced with thoughts of sweet words, and your body craved the way his fingers sent jolts of electricity through your veins. Like a live wire to settle in the water, unsuspecting and fatal.

Today was Eddie's day. A day you wouldn't have to pretend to be excited for. One you could lock away the burden and let the hope free, if only for a few hours. Even if at the end of the day you were going to have to slash and slice and mold that hope back into its box. Locking it down once again, securing it once more, like it should be. Right beneath your rib cage, tucked gently behind your lungs.

Every time you let it see the light of day it grows. Gravitational pull into his smile, like sunflowers to the sun. You let it fester and take root. You let it grow around your heart for a day. Let it break apart old vines that decayed long ago. If only for a day.

A morning like any other and still your heart flutters with knowing what the birds and breeze will bring with them. A glimpse in the mirror and your entire world shatters. The bone tiredness is evident on your face. Deathly hollow shadows where Eddie likes to see evidence of life. Pale lips, dried with the constant nag of picking. A habit of holding your tongue. Blemishes where it was smooth the day before, even the night before, just right before dinner. Evidence of the longing and loneliness.

Eddie can't see you like this. He can't! You won't let him. But the longer you look the longer your care seems to fold. Fading like a light that stubbornly won't go out, one that flickers and blips as if it's trying to reach out in Morse code. An S.O.S. One Eddie would be able to cipher but would send Jason into a fit of rage.

You dress in a simple silk robe, over your shorter nightgown, a soft pink one you claimed you got from the department store when Jason questioned its origin. A lie that rolled off your tongue easily. The truth was Eddie had bought it for you and you had refuted it at first. You couldn't accept that. That was cold hard Evidence of the sins you had committed.

Couldn't have that in the same house your husband was to come home to every day, but at that point in time Jason had already started staying down the hall. He had packed the majority of the room you had shared and taken it and put two doors in between the both of you. Eddie had convinced you to take it, to tuck it away for days you needed him and he couldn’t come to you. A thought that pestered and ate away at the walls of your memory. Made you turn down halls of darkness in your mind.

Depression had taken your hand at the age of sixteen and it had never quite let you go, it was a mole that showed up one day, and you barely noticed it until one day someone dared to point it out to you. A subtle sadness that never quite lets you catch your breath. You thought marrying Jason would make the sadness take its leave, that it had finally left, and good riddance you thought, but you were wrong.

Marrying Jason was just a temporary solution, and it never felt right. It would seep back into your mind and body. Days where getting out of bed was so exhausting you never even rolled over. Days where you thought of setting everything in the house on fire just to not wash the remnants of breakfast down the sink. You close your eyes and say a silent prayer that it doesn't last too long this time.

You take a coal stick, smudge the water lines of your eyes, and take a brush to your hair. Sighing when the flatness wins over the battle in your head of trying to figure out if curlers are worth it today or not. They are not. A small amount of blush to your cheeks and a soft tint of gloss to your lips so that you stop trying to bite through them.

Jason is already seated and drinking a cup of coffee at the small kitchen table as you make your way to the fridge. You take out the eggs and a block of cheddar cheese. A small frying pan sits idle on the stove, everything in its place to Jason’s liking. Knowing he’s been waiting for you to make him breakfast brings the smallest flicker of joy.

‘Thats Right wait mother fucker, starve for all I care’

The thought runs through your mind as you crack the eggs in the pan and shred the cheese to add to his omelet. The same one you’ve made every day since you've been married. Some days he would leave extra early for work and you’d only have to make something to sustain yourself, oh how you favored those days.

You plate his food and set it down in front of him, pouring the last of the milk into a glass before settling down into the chair across from him. Barely looking up from his paper, he picks up the fork to his left and takes a bite. The fork scraping the plate grates your nerves, but falling against the porcelain plate makes you jump at the sound.

“What Happened?” He glares across the table at you and you shrink into yourself.

“A shell. You obviously weren't paying any attention when you were cooking and of course, I bit into a damn shell. Can you do anything right?”

“You know you could have made your breakfast yourself, although you’d still probably find shells since you've never cracked an egg in your life.” Jason stood up from his chair, a scoff coming from the back of his throat. You hold back the urge to laugh, to be hateful beyond repair. You wouldn’t sink to his level, no matter how badly you wanted to.

“You think you’d at least be half good at something by now but yet here we are, right?”

You sat there quietly. You would not cry, the tears stung the corners of your eyes but not yet. You listened as Jason picked up his briefcase, threw on his jacket, and stood as he opened the door, barely hearing him as he left he stated he would be home late for dinner. A rare occasion to even let you know but it meant more time. More time with Eddie, more time with yourself. You look across the table and pick up the plate with the omelet throwing its remains in the garbage, scraping the disappointment off and on two steps towards the sink you feel the tear fall. The frustration and hatred you knew too well as a weakness.

Shards and bits of porcelain fly across the room as you throw the plate against the farthest wall. A sob falls out of your lips before you let yourself fall to the floor next to the sink. You let yourself cry for a moment, finding solace in the fact that your mother and hers before her went through this exact feeling. An ancient call from within to wipe the tears that had shed and to straighten up before anyone could see, but you were so tired of not letting them see, of hiding away.

A record plays, and a soft slow song bellows throughout the room. Fitzgerald and her jazz soothed the rough edges of the morning down. Letting your mind wander off as she sang about dreaming little dreams. The blanket is half thrown across your lap along with a book to your right, sitting on the cushion next to you, thinking of reading at least one page but your hands fail to move an inch toward the spine of the well-worn novel.

A small hideaway in your home a secret room in which Jason rarely ever steps foot in. His old study, the one he had to have and never used, sat filled with your things and your things alone. Jason was never one for books or music. He would pester you on how you could waste money on things like a new book, because why would a woman of the house need to know these things? He never liked the melodies that floated through the house, it needed to be silent so he could think straight, and many many other things he had told you over the years.

A rough knock on the door had you falling back into the real world, looking at the giant clock Jason had insisted be put up, it was noon. Eddie was finished with his route and no doubt was making his last stop of the day. You stumbled up from off the couch and slowly made your way to the front door, taking a heavy breath before opening it. The only thing that grounded you before he took it away. His uniform was in pristine condition, as always, and he stood tall with his smile dimpling at each end.

“Fine day out, ain’t it miss?” He took one good look at you and the smile fell from his lips as you looked up from under the hair that had fallen in your face.

“A fine day indeed.” but your tone lacked its usual shine. He had seen you like this a handful of times and each time he hoped would be the last. He could see the lines of stress eating away at your features, how your brows stayed knitted together as if tied, how your lips had been bitten and not by him, but by the nervousness of holding your tongue.

He looked worried and it made you want to crawl into yourself and die. To make him have that look on his face, one that meant he cared for you when you knew this was only skin deep. What he would give for you to know that it isn’t.

You stepped back as he took the milk straight into the kitchen and began putting it away like he did every Tuesday, and you went back into the study. Eddie was a smart guy. It wouldn’t take him long to find you, especially since the last time you were like this he found you in the same place. The only thing that had changed was that now he knew not to startle you, knew that too many questions would overwhelm you. Knew that if the record was over you would let it play and scratch away at the silence instead of getting up to place a new one down. He would usually sit next to you and wait until you were ready to talk to him, like you were a stray animal and he held out a hand of food to you. A scared little thing.

Instead, he leaned against the doorway and watched as you placed your blanket back over your lap and waited until you patted the seat next to you, wanting him to come and sit close to you. You could feel the heat radiating off of him as if he were a fire-burning stove, the chill that reached bone-deep made you want to reach out and play with the coals. Like a child that was yelled at by their mother for touching the stove, you were hesitant but he let you take his hand.

“How are you pumpkin?” a small question, yet you could feel the fresh wave of tears. How much care he had put in a simple question.

“I’m good,” you said trying to smile as softly as you could,” How are you eds?” He sat quietly for a second wondering if he should answer honestly or not. He took his time trying to think of what to say. He took his other hand, the one not holding yours, and caressed the side of your face.

“I’m doing okay baby, but you most certainly are not.” Before you could argue he held his thumb to your lips.”I can’t stand seeing the sadness in your eyes, the fact that you’ll barely look at me.” You held eye contact, and now his big brown eyes bore into your soul. “ It’s not okay that you’re not okay.” You could feel the hot warmth of his hand now releasing yours to hold the other side of your face. He kissed you gently before bringing your face to his chest and he let you cry. He let you sob and rinse away all of what the morning and the days away from him had brought. He let you grieve for something that would never happen. He let you find that feeling was never your weakness, it was your strength.

He rubs your back in soothing circles and when the clock strikes two you realize that the tears are now dried and he is still here. He didn’t leave you to fight your invisible monster alone. If anything, he stood ten toes behind you with shield and sword, daring another self-hated thought to pass him by.

“Jason will be late tonight,” You say aloud, unsure if it’s to remind yourself or to let Eddie know. A simple hum is all he gives you as you lean back away from his hold to see his face. Just wanting to see if there is any sense of worry etched in his features instead, you find the hint of a smile.

“What time do you expect him home?” he asks as his face comes close and rests it against your shoulder.

“Around seven or so…” You nudge him with your elbow, a soft hit to the stomach and he lets out a low laugh, one you have desired to hear for days. In an instant and a sudden shriek from your lips, you find yourself laid back against the couch, eddies got your hands pinned beneath his chest as he leans into you.

“That gives us plenty of time then Pumpkin.” You huff out a sigh trying to blow the hair that had fallen into your eyes.

“Plenty of time for what eds?” instead of answering you he gives your lips a gentle peck and he slithers and writhes his way down the front of your body, mapping his way down your chest and kissing you right above where he believes your navel to be. Wishing he would just take and rip the cotton that covers you, but he is slow and he is sure. He lifts the nightgown to find that you had left your underwear safely in its drawer last night instead of putting a pair on. A sight that has him groaning into the gown he has bunched up in his fist.

“So pretty, so perfect aren’t you?” You began squirming away from his question and he doesn’t like that all too much. He grips your hips and flattens his tongue across the mound of your pussy, teasing in the worst ways. “Come on, you know what I need to hear honey.” He licks a stripe through your folds and sets his chin against the top part of your thigh, waiting for you to give him what he wants.

“I can’t Eddie, you know I can’t.” he scoffs and laughs mocking you and the tone you use.

“Now I know that's just not true. You’ve done it before you can do it again.” He dips his tongue against your clit swirling and sucking until you buck your hips up toward him. “It’s one simple phrase baby. You can say it, come on.” He pleads asking you to do this one thing and you can have everything he can offer.

“ Eddie I need it, Please baby I just.. Please.”

“Begging will not help you, although I love to hear it. You know that's not what I meant.” You feel him huff out a long sigh, annoyance you know is just in the vein of the game he wants you to play with him.

“I’m per-” You had thrown your arm across your face in the hope of muffling the embarrassment of saying something you knew was a lie.

“I’m sorry. What was that Sweetheart?” he tugged at the bend in your arm until it fell away and rested in the soft curls he had let fall throughout his day. Scratching the stress away letting your nails have him melting into you, the words slip from your lips.

“I’m perfect.” he smiles and kisses the side of your thigh. A small token of what is to come.

“Just the way you are?” You look down, eyes taking in the small golden fleck within his, and nod. You see the way it brightens his entire aura. Like the sun was coming from within instead of just peeking through the curtained windows. “Words please.”

“Just the way I am.” You give in, you can ask a higher power for forgiveness later, lying the way you are. He takes your breath with how skillfully his tongue moves. Sucking and teasing in the best way imaginable. You take and grip his hair in your fist and he moans into your cunt as he dips two fingers in and hits that spot that has you seeing white. He feasts like a man who is starved to the brink of death. Letting his saliva mix with the slick that pours out of you, his favorite flavor on his tongue as you arch your back up off of the couch. Letting your head dangle off the edge and your hand keeping his face tight against you so his mouth can work with his fingers. You reach absolute bliss until his name leaves your throat scratchy.

He licks the proof of that bliss off his lips and offers you the fingers that were once deep inside your walls. Taking them to the hilt you taste the heady mix of the hard work he had put in and it sent you to a floaty place. A place where you felt like you had your head in the clouds like the words he spoke were far away, like they were trying to reach out and bring you back down to earth with each one.

“Baby, you still with me?” Eddie is holding your chin forward as he had come to lay down next to you, well your body is not mainly on top of his so he must have moved you so you wouldn’t fall off the edge. You hum letting him know that you heard him and are too lost for words right now. He kisses your nose and brings his lips to yours licking his way past your teeth and you let out a laugh and end up in a fit of giggles. Eddie laughs brightly along with you but he still asks what had got you tickled in the first place, you decide to answer him honestly.

“You Eddie, just you.” He stares at you in awe his eyes tracing your features as if he is trying to commit them to memory. “You know that feeling of when you're riding a bike and you let your arms lift from the handlebars, you make me feel like that.”

“Incredibly dangerous?” He asks with a sliver of teasing. You laugh at him and put your arms around his neck bringing him down to kiss you.

“Free. You make me feel free Eddie Munson.” He kisses you deeply and you start to trail pecks down his neck, and below his ear, you hear his breathing catch. You try to sit up and Eddie pulls you back down next to him. You try again and this time he lets you get situated however you like, although he is not expecting you to settle in between his legs.

“What are you doing hun?” He asks kindly as his hand finds your face as you look down at him.

“Want to make you feel good too baby.” You had begun slipping his belt through the loops in his pants and he lifts so you can slide it through the ones he sitting on. You know you don’t have to return the favor, he has told you that every time you’d tried before but how could you not?

He was too good a man for you not to want to give him just as much pleasure if not more than he had given you. Too pure in his sinful ways. His zipper came down and as you reached for him, Eddie stopped you.

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” You make sure he knows by the look in your eyes that you mean it. “Do you- do you not want me to?” feeling that flicker of self-doubt rattles the bars of its enclosure from within.

“Of course, I want you too, fuck I don’t think you understand that it's not even a want at this point, it’s a need baby.” You smile shyly but the thought that you are not his only one filters through. He lifts your chin with a finger to get you to look him in the eye. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

You can feel the tears start to sting again and one betrays you sliding down your cheek and hitting eddies wrist with the fall. You want to know if this is more than just a simple fling if it’s just something he can throw away easily. You want to know if his heart is as in it as yours is, need to know. You need to be brave, even if the answer isn’t one you want to hear.

“ Do you care for me, Eddie ?” He looks confused, eyebrows almost touching.

“You know I do.” he is quiet, thinking of a way to express the way you make him feel. There is only one thing he can think of that will prove it to you. A small and powerful phrase, one he had never said to another person and meant so wholly. “I Love You.”

“You must say that to every one of us huh?” Now it's his turn for his brows to meet.

“Who?”

“All of us women Eddie I can’t be the only one.”

“What are you talking about? I have been with you the entire time I've been in Hawkins. Only You! I’ve never told anyone I’d loved them before you darling.”

Did you believe him? You would have to take that chance, you just had to. One day you would have a drawn-out, long conversation about it, but for now, you just had to go for it.

You stood up from the couch in shock. He loved you, no he loves you as in right now. This feeling that flows between you is current. Eddie Munson loves you. You turn towards him and he is starting to look worried. Did you not care for him in return? Was this just a fuck to you and nothing else? He couldn’t stop kicking himself for putting his foot in his mouth, he should have just stayed quiet, but you stopped him from thinking any further. You drop to your knees in between his legs that had spread to accommodate you.

“Baby come here.” he tries to get you up off the floor but you want to taste him first so you reach for the waist of his coveralls and pull them until he lifts and lets you pull his suit down enough to reach his briefs. You lay your head against his thigh as you trace your way up his other leg with your other hand gently grasping the bulge that you had now come to face. You rub your face against his lap with need, wanting to taste it had you leave a trail of open mouth kisses from the edge of his clothed tip up until you reach the the waistband.

You slip him out of his briefs with a heavy slap to his stomach letting the trail of precome he had created, watching as if left a small puddle against the happy trail he had leading to glory. You dip your tongue into it letting it coat the tastebuds and moan at the flavor that you had come to know as all Eddie.

You take his tip and suck the head of his cock letting it settle on your tongue, its weight and movement, small twitches of knowing you are turning him on more and more. His large hand comes to rest on the top of your head weaving his fingers into the hair, pulling gently to coax a rhythm of movement.

You start to bob up and down on his length and you hear him huff out a guttural sigh from above you. Letting himself get lost in the warmth of your mouth and feeling your tongue against the underside of his dick. He can feel the burn in the lower part of his stomach starting to rage war with his mind, the decision of letting you finish or to stop you.

You make that decision for him as you feel his hand pause in its movements. You lift off of his length and turn to look up at him with your gaze, he is focused on the coal that had smudged from tears running down your face. He lifts you by your arms and has you straddle his lap, an easy lift that had you yelping at how fast he moved. He began kissing every surface of your face that he could reach, giggling at the action of his lips covering your entire eye, and in another move he caught your ear, one more and he had nipped the tip of your nose.

“I love you Eds.” He leaned back and the smile that broke out on his face could have lit Times Square with how bright it was. He kissed you with that smile, more teeth than tongue and you loved him. More than anything, you loved him.

He started to bite his way across your jaw as you started rocking your hips gently into his. One hand had taken residence behind your neck and the other was gripping your hip to help you slide comfortably in his lap. His cock slid between your folds hitting your clit in the most delicious teasing way.

“Need you.” Without hesitation, he slid his cock through the wetness he had created just one more time groaning at the feeling, letting you take hold of him, and guiding him to your entrance. Lifting your hips and lowering yourself onto him and moaning out together at the feeling. Him from just how tight you were squeezing him, you from how stretched out he could make you feel.

“Fuckkk you’re amazing. Perfect for me always, aren’t you?” You start to bounce once the stretch isn’t taking your breath away letting his hips meet yours with a sinful sound of of wet you were, having him continue to mouth incoherent babbles.

“God Eddie need you to fill me up, give me every last drop.”

“Jesus, you’re doing so good for me baby, just right, yeah just like that.” He was gripping you so hard you knew that you were going to have small yellow indentions forming within the next few hours, little gifts of your time together. You knew he was close by the way his breathing kept catching in his throat, wanting to tear out of him like a muted scream. He leaned back letting his head rest against the back of the couch as you rode him, kissing up his neck until you were in his ear.

“Love you, my pretty boy.” As soon as his brain lets him process the words that left your mouth, he is shooting rope after rope of white into you and you feel the way he tries to fuck it as deep as it will go, wanting it to live in you, a piece of him.

“I love you more Pumpkin.” You let him catch his breath and you let out a small giggle of ecstasy. He kisses you hard on the cheek as his laugh starts to join in a symphony of joy and it makes you want to dance.

He sets you on the couch next to him and he gets up only to turn to you and tell you he will only be just a minute. Thoughts of him spread the vines around your ribs, daring you to pull them out one by one this time. Begging you to not let you starve them for sunlight and water, to not have them wilt when he leaves this time.

He comes back into the room with a warm wet cloth and makes you stand as he takes a knee. A sight that makes your heart squeeze in a whole different way. He wipes you clean of anything that starts to drip out of you and down your thighs, making sure you are as comfortable as possible before standing and kissing you softly.

“You okay?” All you can do is smile, the kind that has your cheeks hurting from how wide it stretches. He takes and drapes your robe across your shoulders from where you had let it fall.

“I’m good, better than good, thank you, Eddie.” He watches as you start to move across the room and reach up on a high shelf to grab a record. Placing it down and pinning the needle to the first groove the sounds of Sam Cooke start to float through the air and surround you both. You turn to Eddie and he sees that you had an outreached hand, waiting for him to take it.

Pulling you to him as he grasps and twists your fingers until they fit snuggly in between his own, he has his other arm around your waist as you sway back and forth as the lyrics make you want to manifest them into something real.

‘ I know I laughed when you left

But now I know I only hurt myself

Baby, bring it to me

Bring your sweet loving

Bring it on home to me ‘

God how you feel the words worm their way into your brain like it's the only true thing like Sam had gone through and lived your life for you. A dreaded feeling to know someone somewhere out there could feel this deeply about another the way you do for Eddie. Quite impossible if you do say so yourself. You lay your head on Eddie's chest and dance slowly as the song begins to fade and another starts in its place, and you stay that way for quite some time, right up until the bell of the clock above you chimes.

The time for Eddie to leave had come and all you could do was grip him tighter. You couldn't let him go, not yet, not so soon. Not after he had finally let you know his feelings after you had finally let yourself give in. Not yet. You could feel his lips press to your forehead and they just stayed there, that stinging sensation coming to your eyes once again.

“I don't want you to leave.” It was muffled by his shirt but he heard you, he wrapped you in a hug gripping you as tight as he could, like the act would morph you into one being so he could carry you with him right out that door. A punch to the gut when you could feel his arms start to ease up from their hold.

“I have to sweetheart, you know I do. I’m sorry baby, you know I hate to leave you.” You did now, know that his words were true. Every time he had left before you didn’t let yourself believe them, how could you when the hurt would be tenfold if you had? The dread of what was to come through the night had you swiping the corner of your eyes against the edge of his collar.

“Makes it even harder when I know you are feeling the same pain and having no one to comfort you through it through love.” He hums in thought.

“Do you let Jason comfort you through your pain?” You laugh wetly at the question but when you look up to see Eddie's face his smile is flat and his eyes are pleading to hear something akin to a denial.

“Eddie, Absolutely not. I know I’m married to the man but do you think once I started having feelings for you, true feelings, deep feelings that I would have given myself to anyone else other than you?” He gives you a look of complete understanding, He felt the same way. Ever since that first time, you let him see past the curtains and you fed him that lemon bar you had made by hand, he knew he was a goner, a fucking goner.

He knew he would have a hard time with a crush but then he got to know you, got to taste you and he was utterly hooked for the rest of his life, or until the fateful day you would tell him that you just couldn't see him any longer. He looked down at you now and he kissed your forehead letting his lips rest thereafter and closed his eyes feeling all he could before he was to walk out of your door for another week.

You let him hold you close, smelling that smokey wood blend mixed with something sweet, his cologne mixed with a laundry detergent you were sure you had seen on the bottom shelf at the store too scared to buy in case Jason didn't like the scent. You inhaled and slowly let your arms loosen, his sign that you could let him walk out the door without absolutely breaking you. Little did he know you had already started to crumble, the door would send the pillars of your composure flying, like a sand castle with no structural integrity, All sand and give.

“One week, You can wait for me, right sweetheart? “ You nodded through the numbness that was starting to overtake your limbs.

“I can wait a week Eds.” You had walked him to the back door, his normal escape route and you watched his hand grip and hesitate in its turn of the knob. He turned to face you once more, he rushed to your side and gripped you close to his chest one last time, kissing you deeply trying to convey all he could.

“I love you, sweet girl.”He walked back towards the door your hand in his barely touching with his reach out at full extent.

“I love you more baby.” He turned on that mega-watt bright smile before he was out of the door and your hand had fallen back down to your side, cold and unnerving in the silence that followed.

You walked back towards and into the study, taking all the records and placing them back into their rightful homes on the shelves. Letting the tears fall wherever they wanted, streaming and leaving you a mess. You worked through it, you cleaned the study up the rest of the way. Fluffing pillows, taking the blanket, and wrapping it around your shoulders still smelled faintly of Eddie.

Walking to the kitchen you poured yourself a glass of wine and drank it all down in one go, not even a thought before pouring just one more and repeating. You also knew that if Eddie were there he would no doubt be upset that you had decided to drink without even attempting to put anything in your stomach so you made a small sandwich and took it wrapped in a cloth upstairs.

You eat the sandwich, more like you nibbled like a rabbit but at least you knew Eddie would be proud that you tried. You stood and walked into your bathroom, ran some warm water in the sink, and took a rag to your face to get rid of all the bad parts of the day, rubbing your skin until it was stinging and irritated by the material. The tears still threatening to fall but you crawled into bed so that your pillow could catch them instead of your cheeks.

A clock somewhere downstairs had chimed that it was past eight in the evening and Jason had yet to come wandering through the door, when it chimed a little later past ten you heard a soft knock at the door and you shut your eyes to the dark room. Listening and hoping he would just go on into his room, he opened your door you could tell by the sound but he whispered to you sitting on the edge of your bed, sadness in his voice,

“I’m sorry I’ve come in so late.” You wouldn’t let him disturb you. “I- I am, I know I say that pretty often now but I do mean it darling.” the words felt like they were poison, tainted, and disgusting coming from someone other than Eddie.

“I’ll leave you to your sleep then.” his hand patted the bed beside you and only when you heard the door shut behind him and he did the same down the hall, did you finally let it all out. Silently you wished upon whatever and whoever was listening to your prayers for what to do.

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blackiron11 · 7 months ago

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Ideas I really want to read about. (Someone pls make them and tag me

1. Suicidal/self harm reader x rio

1.5 Suicidal/self harm Agatha (cuz her mother hates her so hard) x rio

2. Agatha x rio x reader - they fight for reader's heart on the road (based on lay all your love on me)

2.1

https://www.tumblr.com/wandaslittlelove/766148680484044800/can-you-make-agatha-and-rio-fighting-for-sns

3. Reader is Nicky's twin and Agatha hide them after Nicky's death, until the road (long fic)

4. Personification of life reader x rio (Agatha gets envy)

4.1

https://www.tumblr.com/pyro-les/766339682145550336/to-save-a-life-rio-vidal-x-goddess-of-life?source=share

5 and 6. These two I found on Twitter

7. Mommy Agatha x little reader x rio (on the road) - maybe turn Agathario x little reader (non sexual)

8. Au Agathario with episode 1 - detective harkness x Vidal - no Wanda's spell, normal world - plus Nicky (long fic

9. In the comics, Thanos blips half of the universe as a gift to Death. So, Agatha is angry about it and what's why she is the only one to bring they back five years later. Thanos won't get Rio, if Agatha has a word about it 😌

10. Agatha only wanted Scarlet witch's powers to try to bring Nicholas back or what?

11. Evil Agathario (third pic) - na vdd esse meio que se tornou realidade 🕊️

12. Evil Queen x Salem Agatha (don't ask me why

#agatha harkness #agatha x reader #agatha harkness x reader #rio vidal x reader #agathario x reader #rio x reader #agatha all along #agatha x rio #agathario #agatha harkness x rio vidal

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agatharkn3ss · 7 months ago

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Lilia's premonitions theory (contains spoilers)

Well, my brain has been in overdrive and I love puzzles so... "buckle up!"

If it's too long for you - you can jump straight into the last section titled "How does it all fit"... I really think there could be something there.

OTHER THEORIES

There have been many theories about Lilia's powers and her moments of visions. Some think it's just some loose wiring on most part, some think it's past traumatic events catching up with her, some think they are predictions of the future, some even went as far as suggesting that Lilia (loosely) predicts the last words of the next person who's going to die (based on the fact she said "Get off me!" in ep.2 and we hear Sharon shout "Don't touch me!" in ep.3). But we keep seeing more and more of Lilia's blips in ep.4, they make less sense to any of the above theories, so personally I am not sold on any of them.

There is also a possibility that her premonitions could just be linked to the events that follow - but the words aren't accurate because Lilia can't quite see the "full picture". So her screaming in her shop could be linked to Teen's reaction when Salem Seven attacked in that same episode. Or when she says "Alice, don't", we see Agatha pleading "Don't" with Rio.

BUT then I saw people discussing that maybe these are actually "misplaced" moments in time - from the future AND the past. And that they will make sense if they were said in the correct moment, but somehow got lost and sent to a different time. For example - when Lilia talks about the vampire by the campfire "You know, we really kind of hated each other in the beginning, but now..." then zones out. We could assume she's still talking about the vampire, but this pause could actually be easily filled with "I love you guys!" from the "botox" scene in ep.3, because she was actually touched by their campfire stories. Or when she shouts "Get off me" in ep.2, it could be taken right out of the ep.4 scene where she's burning on the floor, shouting "Get it off me!".

WHAT WE KNOW

All those theories got me mighty intrigued, so of course I made a list of all of Lilia's apparent 'blips' and tried to make sense of it! I believe there are two types of Lilia's visions - one where she has "wrong messages" and one where she exclaims names of tarot cards.

The tarot cards she mentioned so far:

Three of Pentacles - right after she wrote the coven names down

High Priestess - when she meets Jen at Agatha's house

Three of Swords - as Jen is trying to heal Teen

The "blips" are:

shouting and flailing her hands - when Agatha and Teen ask her to join the coven in ep.2

writing the coven names (same scene as above) - this is the only premonition where we see burst of power - the electricity flicker around her, the water boils and it all seems really intense.

shouting "Get off me!" and looking like she was pushing someone away - just before the witches begin summoning the Road

"I love you guys" - when Jen questions Sharon about her poison symptoms in ep.3

"Try to save Agatha" - when she and Agatha are searching for potion ingredients

"Which is it, am I wispy or am i kooky?" - when talking to Alice about her mum during the trial in ep.4

"Alice! Alice don't" - shortly after the one above

Zones out - during the campfire scene when she talks about the vampire scar

We also know that her Air trial will be all about tarot (confirmed by Patti herself) and the promos show Lilia in some sort of princess dress and tiara, Agatha as the green Wicked Witch of the West and Jen looking like the Evil Queen from Snow White but in the old hag form. This makes me think in her trial she will have to confront all those stereotypes about witches that she always said she hated so much. She will likely have to do a tarot reading too. There is also a room with ceiling full of swords that could fall down on them. And finally, in that same room there is a brief shot with her and Salem Seven, flowing mid-air.

One promo also shows one of Salem Seven (Vertigo) opening her mouth to release a swarm of cicadas (her spirit animal).

We know the witches slowly regain their powers once they passed their trial.

There is also this thing about Alice (I will need to make a separate post to explain this) - where my prediction is that in ep.5 she will try to protect the coven by attacking Agatha while she's in her "possessed" form. Unfortunately, Agatha will (willingly or not) completely syphon her powers and Alice will die.

HOW DOES IT ALL FIT?

Well. I think we will potentially get some answers during or after Lilia's trial, once she starts regaining her powers. I think Lilia will try to send a message to the witches in the past, but she will still be struggling with getting the times right.

I could almost see a scene where she sits at her crystal ball or does a tarot reading and talks, not realising that EVERYTHING she says is "sent out" without any filter.

Something like...

.........

Lilia is in a room with other witches, it is a high pressure situation because the Salem Seven are chasing them. Her task is to send the names of the witches to her past self so that Agatha can form her coven - they realised that without the list, they would've never gotten there. Maybe their existence or memory depends on it.

So Lilia starts a tarot reading and begins "tuning in" to her memories, saying the names of the revealed cards out loud - "High Priestess" (she says it in a surprise voice as her vision suddenly flickers to the moment of meeting Jen), "Three of Swords" etc. Maybe one of other witches in the room starts antagonising her kookiness, so that she would just hurry up, because this is not working and Salem Seven are close. So Lilia responds in annoyance "Which is it, am I wispy or am I kooky?!" But then she realises she is standing in front of Alice from the fire trial (in spirit anyway, Lilia is still physically in the scary room). She exclaims in relief "Alice!" and realises this is also her chance to warn Alice so that she doesn't die. She begins saying "Alice, don't try to save Agatha!", but mid way through, her spirit gets transported to the first trial, searching for potion ingredients. So Alice only hears "Alice don't..." and Agatha hears "...try to save Agatha". At some point Lilia is transported to sitting in front of the campfire, reminiscing their stories. This is a fond memory so she starts saying "You know, we really kind of hated each other in the beginning, but now.." and before she can finish, she gets transported back to the "Huge tiny lies" house "...I love you guys".

Maybe at some point Salem Seven break their way into the tarot room and one of them attacks Lilia. She screams "Get off me!" and pushes them away (while her spirit is transported to the moment before they opened the Road). Vertigo releases her cicadas, flying around Lilia's head. She flails her hands and screams, while her spirit is inside her shop where Agatha and Teen just approach her. She realises she's close, focuses all her energy and channels her spirit to write the list of names herself. It takes enormous effort to stay focused on that one moment, hence the energy around her is bursting. She either doesn't have enough time to finish writing Rio's name or feels cheeky and draws a black heart instead. She finishes by revealing and naming the last tarot card: "Three of Pentacles". She completes the task, the End!

....

So..... What does everyone think?!!!!!!

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #kathryn hahn #rio vidal #agatha all along spoilers #jennifer kale #lilia calderu #alice wu gulliver #agatha all along theory

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qwordavoider · 28 days ago

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I needed to write about the clip of Buck sobbing in the trailer for next week so here we go. MCD and spoilers for this week’s episode and from the leaks a while ago. This took on a life of it’s own so it’s angsty and dark and all from Buck’s pov.

He was dying.

That was the only explanation for the feeling in his chest. Like someone was scraping his soul out with a halligan.

Bobby’s face was flashing in his mind. His eyes wide open and lifeless. Bobby had been fine. It didn’t make sense he was fine.

He had been so worried about the others that he hadn’t even thought about Bobby. He. Had. Been. Fine.

But he wasn’t.

They walked into the lab with the cure, administered it and got both of their injured teammates transported for medical attention. They saved them. Got them out.

Then Bobby was swaying, collapsing. He had rushed to his side and tried to wake him. Bobby hadn’t stirred. Why hadn’t he stirred? He had screamed out his name. He should’ve woken up.

He hadn’t found a pulse. He couldn’t… there wasn’t a pulse. So he got him on his back, right? He was trained to get everyone on their back before starting compression. So he must’ve done that. He remembers pounding on his chest. Had he felt a rib crack? Had he hurt Bobby? No, he did his job.

Well, no. He hadn’t.

He hadn’t done his job because his job is to save people and he couldn’t save Bobby. He’s trained his whole career to save people.

So why hadn’t he saved Bobby?

Bobby was gone. He was gone.

That thought was his undoing. He felt his shoulder hit the wall hard as he went down. His back slid down the side of the hall and he sobbed. He let out everything he had held back since he had felt that hand on his shoulder. The hand of Bobby’s wife. The hand that had told him the one thing he had dreaded since his coma dream.

Bobby was dead.

He had run. He wasn’t proud of it, but he had desperately needed to escape. So he had fled to the hall. Where the concrete walls that lined it were a reflection of his soul. Bare and cold and gray.

He still sobbed as he slid all the way to the ground, losing control of his limbs. The sobs wracked through his body, to the point where he started hiccuping in an attempt to catch his breathe. His heart was turning in on itself. Slowly shriveling away.

His cheek pressed against the cool ground and it was a blip of light amongst the darkness threatening to swallow him whole.

Then the cold was replaced by warmth. It was a goddamn hand.

But it was not Bobby’s wife’s. No. This hand was large and rough with callouses. And it was cupping his face gently.

He used the last of his strength to open his eyes and he opened them to worried blue eyes and lips pressed tightly together looking down at him.

That’s not right. That’s not what his face is supposed to look like. His face is supposed to be covered in a smile that brings out the crinkles along his eyes and mouth. And the eyes should be brighter. Lit by that dry humor he loved. Sky blue instead of stormy gray.

That was his face. Not this personification of grief that deepened the lines of exhaustion he had seen hints of earlier. Before.

“Sweetheart,” the voice belonging to the face said.

It was filled with so much love. But that couldn’t be right. He didn’t deserve love. He had let his father die.

Not his father.

His father was probably sitting in a chair by a window reading the newspaper. All the way in Pennsylvania. Blissfully unaware.

He had lost his dad.

The man who had tied his tie for his first real date with a woman. Who sat by his side praying when he was in his coma after being struck by lightning. The man who taught him what it means to live in this world.

What was he supposed to do without him?

Another sob. This time there’s no sound. No tears. He’s got nothing left.

Except the calloused hand.

The hand that’s now duplicated and pressed persistently into both sides of his face.

“Evan. Can you hear me?” the crinkly face asked.

He tried to move his head to nod but he felt heavy. He must’ve moved enough, though, because the hand moved to his shoulder and sat him up right against the wall.

“Good. That’s good, Evan. Can you feel my hand on your face?”

Another nod.

“Good that’s great, sweetheart. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

It was shaky but he managed it. He thought he heard a sigh and then those lips were on his forehead. And gone again too soon.

“What do you need? What can I do?”

That voice. It was so familiar. And then it clicked. The helicopter, the hurricane, the basketball game, the cemetery.

“Tommy,” Buck choked out.

“Yeah, I’m here baby. Whatever you need. I’m here.”

Buck let himself be folded into Tommy’s arms. Focusing on the stubble that scratched against his jaw, the broad shoulder he was pressing his face into. He focused on those things because they were the only way to keep the other thoughts at bay.

The unthinkable pain.

“Stay.”

#tw death #911 speculation #911 spoilers #911 abc #bobby nash #evan buckley #bucktommy #tommy kinard

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elkian · 1 year ago

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It's interesting watching the Dungeon Meshi anime after reading the manga pretty recently. There's lots of fun 'that's a surprise tool that will help us later moments' (not to mention spotted all the WL motifs!), but there's more.

Some stuff I blipped over on the initial read - partly due to the story starting out as a light-hearted Monster of the Week comedy and partly likely due to my own general obliviousness - has caught my attention.

One is how Laios engages with the other party members: when Marcille is down about not being immediately useful, he's the one who jumps in to support her, citing his knowledge of her unique skillset and the strategic value in her holding back for the moment. He has a high level of respect for his party's skills in general (I wonder if part of the monster mania is a bit of compensating for not getting to show his stuff sooner?), and a strong understanding of their synergy.

Further, as I'm watching the Living Armor episode, something has finally pinged in my conscious mind: Laios is smart. It's overshadowed a bit, I think, by his Monster Special Interest (a thing he is expected to be knowledgeable in, which also leads to the dragon expert bemoaning lmao), and his general role of being either The Weird One or experiencing Consequences of eating things recklessly. Which ig is all Monster Special Interest-related at minimum.

Anyways, combining my observation of Laios' understanding of Marcille and Chilchuck's skillsets, and how to best implement him, I realize in this episode that Laios is a very skilled tactician, and strategist. We've also seen him make detailed analyses and decent plans in the manga. I think this all ties into him being the sort of de facto party leader - not only is he strongly motivated on multiple levels, but the others trust him to analyze situations and formulate viable plans accordingly, taking their strengths and weaknesses into account. Heck, when the party gets species-swapped, he makes almost immediate note in their first battle of how quickly he loses stamina, and connects that to Senshi's behavior that he's observed in the past.

Sorry for not noticing sooner, Laios.

#elk text #dungeon meshi

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staying-elive · 3 days ago

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How I would've set up Sam and The Avengers in Phase 4 and 5.

An incredibly long, and self-indulgent collection of my headcanons. 😅🤣😂

After reading @likeol 's post here, here's how I would've gone about setting up Sam and the new Avengers. This is just my opinion. Long post ahead.

In my ideal but still trying to be realistic, alternative world, I would've done this:

Falcon and the Winter Soldier needed to be a movie. Having it be a show fractured the general audience, many of whom still don't bother to watch the shows. Hiding the first chapter of Sam's arc as Cap on show damages the potential new Cap trilogy macro arc.

This movie should've released end of 2019 like Spiderman Far From Home (TFATWS is set 6 months post blip, FFH is set 8 months). Release it Sept/Oct. (Unlikely they'd release this the same year as Endgame, but I'm saying this with the full knowledge that COVID shut down theatres in March 2020 soooo... go with it lol)

Easily could've filmed this the same time as Infinty War/Endgame/reshoots, since Anthony and Sebastian were blipped and only in the final battle.

Working title is TFATWS. Then post Endgame comic con, big reveal, boom we tricked you CAP 4 BABYYYY!

Call it something like Captain America: Legacy or False Flag something idk. Something that either ties to the passing mantle theme or government manipulation/covert operations i.e. Walker

Since this is pre covid, we can now keep the original Flagsmasher plot lol! or strip it down a little and make Walker more overtly the villain. (I just hate him)

*Side note: did you know Far From Home is considered Phase 3 and not 4? I guess this hypothetical makes my Cap 4 movie end of Phase 3.

On to Phase 4! References!

After cinemas reopen, Shang Chi releases Sep 2021. Could maybe have included Sam in the post credit? Have him at that hologram meeting. Beaming in or in person, dont care.

Eternals released Nov 2021. Don't let them ignore Sam. Remember that bs 'Who's going to lead them?' and Ikarus going maybe me? Nah!

Hawkeye ended Dec 2021. Include Sam (and Bucky in the post credit at that terrible musical. It's funny! It would've made sitting through it bearable.

Ms Marvel started June 2022. Sam Wilson as Cap should've been represented at that AvengersCon. He wasn't even visible as Falcon. But easily could've just in passing shown the costume competition. Get creative. Maybe one fan is half-Falcon half-Cap suit, split down the middle. (Bonus: Have a SamCap cosplayer dragging a friend along who's just wrapped his arm in foil like those french guys off tiktok 😆)

I wouldn't care so much about What if episodes if we had these other references. But come on! Sam definitely should've been in these at least as Falcon.

Speaking of 2022, looks like we're due for Sam's 2nd Cap film! (It's been 2.5 years. Totally doable.)

This would make 4 MCU films in 2022 but idk it's post COVID. Roll them out.

Move Doctor Strange 2 to earlier in the year Feb/March idk, I didn't like that film 😅

May 6 is now free for Captain America: New World Order (you could still have Brave New World, but i always thought NWO was a better title. And it's from the comics)

Instead of the Hulk sequel plot (I don't really like the Leader I'm sorry BNW 😔), this should be following our Cap4. Still make it political espionage, still begin the 'restart the Avengers' request from the president, follow up on Sharon as Powerbroker. Personally, I'd tie in Rhodey's Armor War ideas too, because I want a bigger supporting cast of familiar faces.

Joaquin still gets injured here, because it's his first big fight and I love their conversation after

Maybe include an Ant Man cameo. Show Scott and Sam are still connected. Maybe even have Scott ask Sam about writing the foreword to his book! Which we'll then see the following year in Quantamania. 🤯

The post credit for this Cap5 is a first baby Avengers assemble moment. (From the above changes, he's met Shang Chi, Wong, knows Bruce, Scott and Hope. Already has Joaquin and Bucky (?) and Rhodey. It's a start!!

On to Phase 5!

Honestly, there's not much to do here. Mention Sam in Ant-man 3. During Scott's book signing

Thunderbolts, which I now decide is set first in 2025. That's the film that's dumped in February. Because it's not a summer worthy movie. 🤷‍♀️

Can stay the same but for adding a Sam cameo and tweaking the end credit scene where we replace it with this idea here (or similar idc) but since we the audience already know the REAL Avengers are operating since Cap5, this makes sense.

Don't know how to fix Bucky's bs choice. You could always just entirely replace him in Thunderbolts with Everett Ross like we just did here 😆 But at the VERY least don't stab Sam in the back by staying quiet when people insult him 🙄

OF COURSE, this whole rewrite is based on respecting Sam and ergo the New Avengers reveal likely wouldn't happen anyway. BUT if it did, at least Sam's Cap and team are coming in to defend.

Now Captain America 6! (It's been 3 years, but Sam is established on the big screen, and i'm being realistic in accounting for the actors and writers strike 🤣😂)

This becomes our May summer release. Essentially, this would be Avengers 4.5 in the same way that Cap3 was Avengers 2.5 given all the supporting characters. BUT that's just cos we need a team up movie before Doomsday and we also need to squash the Thunderbolts nonsense. Resolve that here, or at least develop it somehow.

Still have some big Avengers style action. Show the team dynamic under Sam's leadership. Add in Shuri!

This a new film so I have zero plot ideas 😆 but whatever happens, the post credit scene for THIS is now the Fantastic Four ship coming into orbit.

Annnnnd.... yeah. That's how I would've weaved Sam in through Phases 4 and 5, setting up Phase 6 Avengers.

If you've read to the end of this... thank you ...and im sorry 🤣 😂 💞 🎖🏅

Would you have done anything differently? Have I forgotten anything?

#sam wilson #captain america #i don't really know what to tag. i'm not gonna tag every movie lol #tfatws #cabnw #sam wilson headcanon #mcu headcanons #mcu rewrite #tfatws rewrite

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waihtie · 3 months ago

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Of course Season 4 is what's gonna get me binging

Season 4, Episode 3 - In the Beginning

○ YES. Thank you. Don't make me wait for Castiel

○ Damn, Dean is in 1973

○ Young John is fine. This damn show with their damn men.

○ Did Castiel do this? What would be the point?

● Awe there he is. He's being so vague. And looking so adorable.

○ Dean convincing John to buy the Impala lol. Is that how he always bought it? Is there a timeline where John bought that hippy van?

○ "Sammy, wherever you are, Mom is a babe. I'm going to hell. Again."

○ Turns out Mary was a hunter pre-John. John never knew.

○ Samuel. Deanna. Really?

○ Azazel the son of a bitch. That's who he's here to stop.

○ Mary says the worst thing she could think of is her kids being raised in the hunter life. That's so sad.

○ Cas just blipping in and out. I love him.

○ Shit. Azazel killed both Mary's parents.

● Damn. And John. That's why she made a deal with him. She gave him permission to go after baby Sam (without knowing it)

○ It's interesting Dean allowing himself to show vulnerability in front of a warrior that he just met. You can tell he appreciates the little comfort Castiel is trying to provide. You'd think he'd try to cover it up and be all macho in front of him.

○ More Cas by a sleeping Dean

○ Oh shit. Castiel wants Dean to stop Sam. "Or we will". That's a pretty big threat from an angel.

Was Sam not in this one at all?

Also, this:

Third episode in a row. Bro, he's only been here for 3 episodes.

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #castiel #spn first watch #spn rewatch #spn s04e03 #spn In The Beginning

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fountainpenguin · 1 year ago

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Secret Life finale highlights for me:

- "My strategy: Kill Skizz and Tango. Will happen at some point... Or, just maim them and watch them die in a corner." - Scar

- Scott on Grian's loyalty: "I have never seen a man drop a pair of sunglasses faster in my life [than last season after Joel died]."

- I think I reblogged someone's speculation weeks ago that at the dawn of final session, everyone's task book would just say "Win Secret Life." Congrats to them for Apollo's gift of prophecy.

- Martyn's beat of pause before saying to Joel "Welcome to the Out of Context video."

- At the start of the season, Etho said Joel was the first one he wanted to kill because "He's cheeky." When Joel is asked who he wants to kill, he says "Etho." Glad you're enjoying your rivalry, boys, smh...

- Joel, once again giving into his Shrek origins, watching Bdubs' wool globe go up in flames and chirping "My world's on fire; how 'bout yours?"

- Tango does not break his "pathetic death" curse. Just blipped out of existence. Love that for him.

- Spitting, crying... BigB panics and flees into his creepy backrooms for safety. Immediately vanishes into the tunnel maze. Scar pursues and skids to a halt because he hasn't seen it yet and is thoroughly creeped out.

- Scar coming up to surface and trying to describe how BigB disappeared. Martyn looks down at where they're standing and is just like "Oh, that's the backrooms." Mental image of Scar as that meme that goes "The. what."

- Scar describing BigB as a sneaky squirrel. "Squirrel" was the name of BigB's horse in Double Life.

- Joel's anxiety about entering a Nether portal on the final episode, specifically because of how he and Etho perma-died in Double Life

- Whatever was going on with Martyn flinging ender pearls up the ladder seconds before he died

- Additionally, people in the background commenting that they think Martyn's teamed up with Cleo and the only reason he was near them was an attempt to bear down and kill them

- Scar to Bdubs, watching Cleo and Etho from a distance: "Look at this- Mom and Dad are bringing their new ugly stepson to meet us, Bdubs." /camera pans to the warden chasing them

- Bdubs tells Scar that Cleo said he was her favorite son and Scar IMMEDIATELY, without responding or even waiting for Bdubs to finish his sentence, jumps a wall and books it to Cleo to confirm... Mental image of him swinging dramatically over it with one hand, his shawl billowing behind him

- Scar chases Cleo while they're both being pursued by a warden, asking her if he's her favorite son. Doesn't let up until she assures him she "just said it to keep Bdubs happy." what is wrong with the Clocker family.

- Joel somehow pulled off a beautiful PVP kill on Skizz despite having only 2.5 hearts

- In earlier episodes, Joel had people say "The florist sends his regards" on his behalf before striking. Before killing Skizz, he says "Scar sends his regards" since Scar really wanted to kill Skizz but bequeathed the fight to Joel instead.

- Scar trotting up to Etho and Cleo, who are watching him from a cliff, and announcing "I am not up to anything nefarious!"

- Scar's weird spiky wall design is really pretty

- slkdjfskldjfsklj?!?!?!? I had a bullet point on this list that said "Honorable non-finale mention to Scar getting both the Green and Yellow kill on Etho this season" but now I see I need to correct that:

- Shout-out to Scar killing Etho - in Etho's front yard - THREE TIMES this season. Etho rushing back to his base, tripping over his feet and saying "I'm going home, everybody- I'm dying at my home-"

- Scott to Scar: "I went down to BigB - to get him - and I see what you mean; he does just talk his way out of things so you feel bad; you just leave him." / Scar: "That's why you don't let him speak. You just inner monologue. You start talking about Star Wars so you can't hear his charms."

- As Scar drives his sword into Cleo, he says "Good-bye, Mom- This is for you telling Bdubs [he's your] favorite." Geez, dude. Scar killed both his parents; this family is a mess. Bonus points for Joel fumbling in the background like "Oh my gosh- Scar, you savage-"

- I watched multiple POVs until I was caught up to the standoff between Gem & The Scotts vs. The Mounders... So picking up from there with Scar's POV b/c his is the one I randomly started with today: I love how Joel basically went "I am once again throwing caution to the wind and charging into battle with a murderous Red rage in my eyes and no one behind me" like he ALWAYS does.

- Bdubs and Scar decide to back him up... Amazing.

- Scar has gotten 4 kills (Tango, Etho, Cleo, Impulse) and he was super close to getting BigB as well before Scott sniped the kill. Geez... The man is vicious today. During Limited Life, Grian made a comment that went something like "Of course Scar is only destructive / successful when I'm not on his team" and honestly? Yeah...

- Pearl begging Scar to kill her- Pearl warning Scar that if she perma-kills Gem, she'll go up 10 hearts- Scar refusing, insisting that he doesn't want to turn on her because it feels lame...

- Scar got Gem, he got Gem... GeminiSlay is DOWN!

- SCAR SWEEP WITH THE BOW!!

Oh my goodness, I saw his episode title ("Can Villain Scar Win?") and the words that went through my head were "Welp, that's a spoiler that he's dead." I see I was wrong.

GG, SCAR WIN!!! Man who wanted so desperately to have friends, only to trip and fail time and time again... GoodTimesWithVictor!!

My heart, Scar letting that zombie knock him down to half a heart... playing up like he didn't just watch the lightning bolt mark Pearl's demise. He wanders, calling out to Pearl, asking where she went... quietly giggling and muttering to himself as that zombie pushes at him... GG, Scar. GG.

My goodness, is this the only time we haven't seen the winner die in their perspective? Scar slams that success button for winning the game, gets 5 hearts, turns back, and that's it... That's the game. End scene.

What a LAD!!

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mossker · 1 month ago

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i’ve been rewatching the mcu timeline and i reached iron man 3. as a ty simpkins fan, and a harley keener enthusiast, i adore this movie

however, watching it back, i honestly think they did the character of harley keener such a disservice by just up and leaving him in iron man 3. like yes he gets a cameo in endgame, and yes that is one of the coolest things ever, but i hate how he just never got explored and doesn’t seem to be on the list to get explored

yes maybe i am biased, but i loved harley when i saw iron man 3 when it first came out. i remember watching it with my dad, and saying how cool i thought it was that a kid was helping the tony stark. i remember hoping that he’d get brought up again in future projects

then, i forgot about him. until avengers endgame. it was 2019 and my love for his character just went through the roof when i realised he was there. i waited and waited to see how they’d take the now dead hero’s story forward, as well as my favourite niche/minor character in the universe

i fell out of the marvel fandom after the release of NWH in 2021, that being the last film i watched until late 2024. when i was rewatching the entire mcu again, i was once again pulled to harley’s character (and then was introduced to the existence of the parkner fandom, which oh my god). i love him so much!!!

when i looked into him when i got back into marvel, i learnt he’s mentioned in a what if…? episode and he’s a WEB recruit in the disney spiderman attraction, as well as in the web of spider-man comic (2021). so there is stuff there, he is a character that could be explored, there are ways to bring him forward

i’d give anything to have harley even be mentioned again, or have another cameo. of course at this point it would have to be through spider-man which is almost impossible with the way they’ve reset him

i wish he was explored more before. i wish we got to see him even just once more. i wish it wasn’t all just left to the viewers imagination

i know why they did it, and i also know that it probably was the best choice. and i also know that the fanfics and arts and everything else is only so creative because of the freedom we get with his character

i just wish we had more canon stuff with him. i want to see one of his phone calls with tony, i want to see how harley grew, i want to see his reaction to the blip, i want to see him meeting peter/spiderman for the first time, i want to see tony talking about him with pepper, i want to see harley meeting everyone at tony’s funeral, i want to see how he moved on. any of that would satisfy me

letting him be a more fleshed out character than a throwaway would be so incredible. because he is so important to mcu!tonys story and i’m tired of pretending like he’s not!

#harley keener #ty simpkins #iron man 3 #iron man #tony stark #mcu #mcu fandom #peter parker #marvel #w.e.b.#maybe an unpopular opinion but also maybe not idk

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punchdrunkdoc · 12 days ago

Text

Part 4, Chapter 16

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness? Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 4 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

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PART 4

Chapter 16

The knock came at 6:47pm.

Matt had been listening for it ever since he’d gotten home from work. Perched on the edge of the sofa, elbows resting on his thighs, one heel tapping restlessly against the wooden floor, he’d listened for Calina. Terrified that she wouldn’t show up. Equally terrified about what would happen if she did. Because it felt like make or break time - a single chance to save his relationship.

Although could it even be called a relationship, when only one person was still in it?

To him, only two months had passed. Two months since they were practically living together. Sleeping together, and eating together, and making love and going on dates, and planning their future...

Only two months.

He was still there, in that relationship. He’d never left. He’d blipped out of existence loving her, and returned moments later loving her still.

But she was at a different point in their timeline, five years in the distance. Had she carried her love for him with her all those years? Or had she tucked it away, too painful to contemplate. Neglected it, until it withered and died? Or had she found someone else to give it to?

Was he in her past?

Could he be her future again?

Matt had no idea. And the unanswered questions were killing him. So he listened for her. And he tapped his foot. And he tried to ignore the churning, twisting fear in his gut.

At 6:44pm he heard a motorcycle pull up in front of the apartment building, the engine ticking over, then going dead. A kickstand hitting the road.

At 6:45pm, the elevator whirred as it was called to the lobby.

At 6:46pm, it dinged as it arrived on the sixth floor.

And at 6:47pm, Calina knocked on his door.

———

Matt opened the fridge. Grabbed two beer bottles by their necks. Placed them on the counter. Popped the caps. He did it all by muscle memory, because every sense he possessed was laser-focused on the woman behind him.

The glimpse of her outside Karen’s house had been too brief. The encounters on the rooftop too fraught. The interlude in the nightclub too heady and charged. The episode in the alleyway too terrifying. Only now was he able to really ‘see’ her, and catalogue some of the ways she’d changed.

The most obvious was her composure - or lack of it.

She used to be so…still. He remembered how her presence always calmed him. Brought him peace. He remembered the figure on his rooftop, the one who’d intrigued him from afar. The one he’d first fallen in love with. How serene she used to appear to him.

‘Serene’ was not a word that would describe the Calina currently pacing around his living room. Her heeled boots tapped rapidly against the hardwood floor, her long legs taking short strides back and forth. She twisted her fingers. Played with the edges of the bandage covering her hand. Chewed on her lower lip so hard he worried she would split it open.

She seemed volatile. On edge. Nervous as hell. He could hear her heart pounding. Could smell the adrenaline coming off her in waves…

He screwed his eyes closed, wishing he could somehow calm her down, hating to see her so distressed.

‘Treat her kindly. Be understanding.’

Maggie’s advice yesterday had seemed obvious. And not a little redundant - it’s not like he’d been planning to be cruel and ignorant. But the more he’d thought on her words, the more he’d seen the wisdom in them.

Be understanding.

He needed to understand that his needs and hers were very different right now.

He needed to breach the distance between them, take her in his arms and hold her close. Feel her against him, and reassure himself that she was really here.

She needed space. She needed him not to touch her. He’d sensed that the moment he’d opened the door. The ‘stay back’ vibes had practically radiated off her.

So he’d retreated to the kitchen. Kept his back to her as he’d grabbed them some drinks. Now, heading back into the living room, he placed her bottle on the coffee table instead of in her hand. He took a seat on the far end of the sofa. And he kept quiet, willing to let her lead the conversation.

“Thank you,” Calina said, pausing her trek across his living room long enough to grab the beer. She took a sip. Then a larger drink. Then she just stood there, staring down into the bottle, picking at the corner of the label.

“Calina?” he prompted her, his voice as soft and gentle as he could manage when his heart was lodged in his throat.

She looked at him - for the first time since arriving in the apartment. Whatever expression she saw on his face caused her to nod. And take a deep breath. “I owe you an explanation for why I avoided you for so long. And an apology.”

Her words were rushed. And they sounded rehearsed, as if she’d practiced what she was going to say beforehand. But he wasn’t going to complain - however she needed to get through this was fine with him.

Kind and understanding.

No problem.

“I’ll listen to anything you want to tell me,” he said. “But you don’t need to apologise. Us - you and me - it was a long time ago for you. I know that—”

“Don’t do that,” she said, interrupting him. “Don’t let me off the hook like that. If the situation were reversed - if I’d been the one to come back - I would have wanted you here with me.”

Matt nodded. “I- I did want you here. I wanted - I needed - to know that you were alive. That you were safe. The not knowing was torture, Calina.”

She ducked her head, and folded her arms across her chest as if trying to protect herself from the blow of his words. “I’m sorry.”

“So what kept you away?”

She bit her lip again. Then she took a seat on the armchair across from him and launched into another rehearsed-sounding speech. “On the day you - and everyone else - returned, I was involved in a battle against Thanos and his army at the old Avenger’s compound upstate.”

Matt blinked. “You were what?”

“The other Widows and I were recruited to help defeat him. And during the fight, I sustained severe injuries.”

He froze. “How severe?”

“Severe enough to need experimental treatment that involved being in an induced coma for a month.”

Matt could feel his heart pounding and his mouth go dry, fear spiking at the thought of Calina being that close to death - because he could read between the lines. ‘Severe injuries’, ‘experimental treatment’, and ‘a coma for a month’ all added up to someone on the brink of dying.

“Are you okay now?” he asked.

“Physically, yes.”

He exhaled in relief. But he found himself in desperate need of tangible proof. He had to grip the arm of the sofa to stop from pulling her to her feet, stripping her naked and running his hands over every inch of her skin to reassure himself that she was really healed. That she was really okay…

But then the first part of her response penetrated. “What do you mean ‘physically’?”

Calina laughed, a dry humourless sound. “That…is so much harder to explain.”

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs. “Hey, it’s just me. It’s just us. You know you can tell me anything.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered. “And I think that when I tell you what I did - and why I did it - it will hurt you. I know you, Matt, you’ll feel responsible.”

Matt frowned in confusion. “I can’t promise not to. But I need to know, Callie.”

She nodded. Then took a deep, shaky breath. “Do you remember that time I got dosed with the pheromone spray? The one Landon Cross created?”

Matt smiled ruefully. “Calina, that was three months ago for me.”

“Oh. Right.” She bit her lip and frowned. Which made him realise he wasn’t the only one still coming to terms with the differences in their timeline.

“What about it?” he prompted.

“You remember what it did to me? What it made me think had happened?”

“You thought I’d died.”

Calina nodded. “It was the worst feeling I’d ever experienced. It was…indescribably awful, thinking that you were gone. Grieving for you like that.”

“I remember.” He could vividly recall finding her on the rooftop that night, huddled in a ball, her heart breaking. She’d looked so lost. So fragile.

“Well, it was nothing compared to the reality.”

Matt’s head jerked up - both at the words and the bitter, pained tone of her voice.

“And I didn’t cope well with it. At all. I was a complete mess. I didn’t know how to process so much grief, all at once. You were just suddenly…gone. And so many of my sisters were as well - Yelena, Katya, Anya…”

“I didn’t realise,” Matt said softly, knowing how close she’d been to those women. “I’m sorry.”

If Calina heard him, she didn’t acknowledge it. She just kept speaking, and her words now sounded anything but rehearsed. She stumbled and stuttered as she explained how she’d gone back to the Widows. About the nature of their missions and how hard it was to deal with their failures. How difficult it was to deal with some of the awful things she’d seen. How different it felt without her closest teammates. How she had to step up and lead, and how isolating that felt. How she barely slept, and was plagued by nightmares…

As she spoke, she pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She rested her cheek on her knees, her gaze directed out the windows instead of at him.

And as he listened to her distill five years worth of pain, Matt’s head came to rest in his hands, his heart tearing open.

Because she was right - this was hurting him.

“And all that time,” she continued, her voice soft now, as if she was talking more to herself than to him. “I was grieving you. It never seemed to get any easier, despite what everyone said. Missing you was a constant. The pain was always there. I felt like I’d been carved out and hollowed, and there was nothing inside me except this vast, unending sorrow.”

He tasted the salt of her tears on the air. She twisted her head to bury it in her arms, tucking herself further away in a protective ball as she cried.

And Matt couldn’t stand it any longer. He knew he should be giving her space, but she was suffering five feet away from him. She was reliving her grief - feeling the pain of his death - five feet away from him, and he could do something about that now. He was here now. So he got to his feet, bridged that gap between them, and knelt at her side. He placed one hand on her bent head and stroked her hair. The other rubbed her back, his palm moving in soothing circles as he pressed his lips to her shoulder. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered against the fabric of her sweater. “I’m so sorry.”

He kept up his litany of apologies as she silently wept. His hands glided over her back, up to the nape of her neck, along her thigh, over her arm - everywhere he could reach - until eventually her tears dried up. She lifted her head, and rested it on her arms, as if the weight of it was too much to hold up. She stared at him for several long moments, before reaching out to him with her hand. He held still as she touched his face, her fingers delicate and hesitant as they traced over his brow, down his cheek and along his jaw.

She opened her mouth, preparing to speak. The air around them was silent and bated, and Matt held his breath in response.

Would she tell him that she still loved him? That she still missed him, after all this time? That she wanted to be with him?

“I’m not sure about the beard.”

Matt burst out laughing, not expecting that.

———

Calina wanted to close her eyes and bask in the beautiful sound of Matt’s laugher. But she also couldn’t bear to look away from him, not even for a moment.

Because he was here. He was really here.

And he was so close to her. Close enough that she could make out the dark rim around the hazel of his eyes. Close enough to spy the few grey hairs at his temples, glints of silver among the rich brown tones. Close enough to see that thread-like scar above his left eyebrow…

All the tiny, subtle details of his face that she’d forgotten.

She wanted to stare at him for hours. Memorise every aspect of him, so that she’d never forget again. So that if she ever lost him again—

No.

She forced herself away from that dark train of thought. She just wanted to be here. In this moment with him. In this apartment, that she’d missed so much.

It held warmth again, and not just from the golden light streaming through the windows. There was life in here again. It was no longer a shrine, a cold mausoleum, preserving the last day of his life, like Pompeii under ash. His scent filled the air again, and things had moved. The sweatshirt that had been draped over the arm of the chair was gone, his discarded tie in its place. The coffee cup that had sat by the kitchen sink was back in the cupboard. His running shoes were now by the door. There were legal documents strewn across the top of the bureau behind her, and his glasses were on the coffee table…

He was here. He was really and truly here.

And for the first time since she’d learned of his return, she felt happy. There was no panic, or grief or fear. The tears that had fallen on recounting the past had subsided. Now there was nothing negative to obscure the purity of her joy. He was here, and he was close to her, and she was happy.

His hand came up to trap hers against his cheek. He rubbed his beard - so much thicker than she’d ever seen it - against her palm. The bristles were softer than she’d expected, and she felt him lean into the contact. “You’re not a fan?” he asked, responding to her comment.

“No,” she replied softly, enjoying the hushed conversation. When they spoke like this, it always felt like they were the only two people on earth. “I like when there’s some scruff, but not when it hides your dimples.”

Matt smiled. And even without the dimples on display, it took her breath away.

Happiness turned to giddiness.

And, God, it was such a relief to recognise an emotion, and have it be something good. Something light and positive. Something that didn’t cause her pain, or steal her breath, or make her want to claw at her bones. And it was so unexpected. She’d come here tonight practically jumping out of her skin with nerves. She’d been terrified, in fact. Not knowing what to say, not knowing how she’d react to being here, to being with him.

As he’d grabbed them drinks earlier, she’d paced the floor, trying to formulate a speech. To find the words to explain what had happened to her, and why it had taken her two months to come to him. The easy part had been describing her physical injuries. Talking about her emotional damage…that was more complicated. But she needed him to understand why she’d taken the serum. She needed to give him the context…because she was so afraid of how he’d react.

She didn’t want him to be horrified like Anya, or angry like Karen. She couldn’t bear for him to be disappointed like Dr Gossard, or distraught like Katya. Yelena had been relatively indifferent to the news, and she didn’t want that reaction either.

She didn’t really know how she wanted him to react, but it felt vital that he understand the why of it.

But that conversation was still to come - she’d broken down before even getting to that point in her story. Reliving those first couple of years without him had been harder than she’d thought. She hadn’t let herself think about that time in so long. She hadn’t felt the specific pain of it in so long.

So she hadn’t really been surprised by the tears. She’d cried over him so much in this apartment, after all. But this time…this time he was right there with her. His gentle hands had soothed her and his whispered words of sympathy had battled against the grief that was trying to pull her under. Eventually, those caresses and soft words had stemmed the tide. She’d lifted her head…and there he was. So close to her.

And now he was smiling at her, his laughter ringing in the air between them. And it felt like she’d fallen back in time.

To before.

She could almost believe they’d just eaten together, and talked about their day over the dinner that she’d cooked. That he’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and washed the dishes, while she’d admired the way he moved around the kitchen, and enjoyed the shifting of muscles in his arms as he worked. That they were now relaxing with a beer and planning how to spend the remaining hours of their evening. Maybe she’d read to him, or they’d play chess, or listen to some music. A peaceful interlude, before the night turned dark, and he would become Daredevil. She would kiss him before he left - a wish for his safe return, and a promise of more to come…

Her eyes dropped to his lips, so close to hers.

What would it be like to kiss him again, after all this time?

She could barely remember the taste of him, or the feel of his mouth against hers. Would it be like the first time, all over again? Or would it feel like coming home?

Did she want to come home?

Did she want to risk her heart again? Did she want to risk losing him again?

How would it happen the next time? Would there be another disappearance, and a slow descent towards the inevitable conclusion that he’d died? Or would there be blood and violence and a body on a cold slab in a morgue, lifeless and grey—

The thought of that - the image of that - hit her like a freezing cold wave. It doused the spark of happiness within her.

And flooded her with fear.

———

Matt held his breath as Calina studied him.

He didn’t want to speak, to move, to twitch a single muscle that might disturb this strange and wonderful moment between them. He was still crouched by the side of her chair, one hand holding her palm to his face, the other resting on her back. He could feel a slight ache in his knees from holding the position, but he didn’t care. He would stay here all night if he had to. Because he had a sense that something delicate and fragile was being rebuilt between them.

The ‘keep back’ vibes were gone. The nervous, edgy Calina from earlier was gone. She was soft and warm and still in front of him. He could feel her gaze flitting over his face, could sense the moment it landed on his lips. They were so close to each other, their faces inches apart. It would be so easy to fall against her, bring his mouth to hers…

She licked her lips, as if sharing the same thought, and Matt’s every sense was drawn to the path of her tongue as it swiped over her full upper lip—

But then she gasped, the sound one of terror. She ripped herself away from him, and stumbled out of the chair. Her knee collided with the coffee table, and he put a hand out to steady her.

“No!” she shouted, backing away from him. “Don’t touch me!”

Matt frowned. What the hell just happened? They’d been about to kiss, he knew it. He’d felt himself being drawn towards her, like a ship into a storm. The air had been charged with electricity, lightning ready to strike…

And he knew she’d felt it too.

But now she was across the room - as far as she could get from him without leaving the apartment. Her hands were balled by her side, and her heart pounded, the noise like thunder in his ears.

Matt rose from his crouch, took a step towards her. “Callie—”

“No!” she yelled again. “Get the fuck away from me!” The terror was gone from her voice, replaced by…anger?

He stopped moving. Held up his hands. “Calina, please tell me what’s wrong.”

She laughed, and it was the most bitter, resentful sound. She started pacing again, not with nerves this time, but with barely contained rage. And he didn’t know if she was angry at him, or someone else, or something else. He didn’t have a fucking clue what was going on. She’d turned on a dime so many times tonight it was giving him whiplash. From anxious, to sad, to affectionate, to scared, and now to anger…

Matt tried again. “Talk to me, please.”

She spun on her heel to face him. “This is why I stayed away! Even after my legs were healed, this is why I couldn’t come to you!”

“I don’t understand.”

“They never taught us how to deal with that much emotion. In the Red Room. They kept our feelings locked down for years. We never got a chance to learn how to cope with anything!” She started pacing again, and he could sense the build up of frustration within her. “It all became too much - losing you, losing my sisters, failing at missions. All the grief that I was feeling, and the devastation I was seeing. It was too much! I couldn’t cope. I couldn’t, Matt, I tried, I swear I tried, but it was all just too fucking much!”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I get it.” And he did - up to a point. He remembered what Calina was like at the start of their relationship. How she’d once asked him to cut her some slack when she got overwhelmed by new experiences, and the strength of her feelings. So he could understand if she’d struggled to cope with all that grief and loss. But he had a sense she was gearing up for some sort of confession, and he didn’t know what it could be.

“I needed to numb those feelings,” she said.

“Okay…”

“So I asked Melina to create a modified version of the mind control serum.”

Matt frowned. The serum that had turned her into a cold, mindless assassin? The cold, mindless assassin he’d fought in this very apartment? “Calina…”

“There was none of the controlling elements to it,” she said, as if trying to reassure him. “None of the violence. Just the emotion-suppressive aspects. And it helped me. I could function again. I didn’t have any more panic attacks, and I was able to live my life again. For three years, I was able to cope.”

“You went without any emotions…for three years?” He couldn’t imagine Calina like that. Her warmth, and her kindness, and her quirky sense of humour, and her beautiful smile…all gone? Just wiped out by some chemical, for years?

She nodded. “Nobody knew. I was able to fake being…me…enough to fool the people I worked with. And Karen. But when I was injured, they found traces of the serum in my blood, and they realised what I’d done.”

Matt approached her slowly, giving her plenty of opportunity to tell him to stop, or run from him, or throw something at him. But she did none of those things. She just stood still, head lowered, as if waiting for her punishment.

He reached out, and took her hand. Her skin was cold, and he could feel her trembling, so he grasped her hand more firmly between his. Then he brought it to his lips and kissed it. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

She lifted her head. “W- what?”

“I’m sorry you had to do that. I’m sorry that you were in that much pain.” He closed his eyes and bowed his head over her hand.

She tried to tug her hand back, but he held on. “I- I don’t…You should be angry, or something. Disappointed…”

“Why would I be? Calina, I was there, remember? I was there when you were trying to get out from under the control of the Red Room. You hated everything about them, and what they’d done to you. So the fact that you went back to the serum…it tells me that you didn’t have a choice. And I’m glad you did it. If that’s how you needed to survive, in order to be standing here today, with me…I’m fucking glad you did it.”

He pressed their joined hands against his chest, stepped closer to her. Touched his forehead to hers. “And I’m sorry that you were worried about how I’d react,” he whispered. “I know I’ve been guilty of judging you and your choices in the past. But I’m done with that. You’ll find no judgement here, okay? No anger. No disappointment. Just understanding.”

Maggie’s advice really had been spot on.

He hated the thought that Calina was scared to come to him. Scared to tell him what she’d done. That she feared his reaction. When the truth was…nothing she could tell him would change how he felt about her. She could confess to murdering a hundred people. She could tell him she’d been with a dozen men.

It didn’t matter to him. Nothing she’d done in those five years mattered.

All that mattered was now. “Are you still taking the serum,” he asked.

She lifted her head and laughed. “Am I behaving like someone with no emotions?”

“I meant in general. Tonight, you have seemed a bit…unpredictable.”

She pulled away from him. “Unpredictable? That’s a really polite term for it, Matt. I’m a complete mess.”

“You’re not a mess—”

“Yes, I am. Admittedly, I’m better than I was a month ago, but I’m still having severe mood swings - what you’ve seen tonight is just the tip of the iceberg. I’m still having panic attacks - you saw that outside the club.” She pointed to the bruise on her cheek. “And I’m picking fights with my sisters for no reason.”

Matt grazed his thumb over the slight swelling beneath her eye. He’d noticed the injury the other night in the club, along with the cut on her palm and her scraped knuckles. He’d just assumed she’d gotten them as part of her Black Widow duties. “Who gave you this?”

“Yelena. But I started it.”

Matt shrugged. “She probably deserved it.”

Calina huffed out a laugh, covering her mouth to hide the surprised sound. Then she shook her head. “No, she didn’t, actually. Not this time. I hadn’t seen her in five years. I’d missed her so much, and she was grieving the loss of her sister, but I still attacked her. I can’t control how I react from one moment to the next.”

“Then I guess I should be glad I only got tears tonight, and not a fist to the face.”

She groaned at his attempt at humour. “Stop it. Please. This isn’t funny. It’s serious. I- I basically gave myself brain damage taking that serum.”

Matt frowned, all humour evaporating. “What?”

“The serum messed with my amygdala. That’s the part of the brain that regulates emotions—”

“I know what the amygdala is.”

“Well mine’s malfunctioning. I veer from one extreme emotion to another in an instant, even though half the time I don’t even know what it is I’m feeling. And my body can’t process it. I end up having panic attacks, or breaking down in tears, or hurting people. I can’t be out in the field, because my sisters don’t trust me to have their backs. And they’re right not to. God knows what I’d do if I had a fit of rage on a mission. I could end up shooting someone on my own team, or mowing down a bunch of innocent civilians—”

“You would never do that.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “I have no idea what I’m capable of. I’m not the Calina you used to know. Not even close. And I’m trying to fix myself - I’m in therapy, and I’m taking medication - but I don’t know if I’ll ever be that version of Calina again.”

Matt stepped closer, bridging the distance she kept trying to put between them. He rubbed her arms, and shrugged. “Then I’ll just get to know this new version of you.”

“You wouldn’t like her. She’s unstable. Erratic. She’s…cruel.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

She shook her head. “I can’t give you what you need.”

“And what is it I need?”

“You used to say that I calmed something inside you. That I brought you peace. But I’m not- I can’t be that person for you anymore.”

“Fuck that,” Matt said, his own anger spiking. The hands that had been caressing her arms now held her in a grip. “I didn’t love you because of something you could do for me. I just loved you. I still love you. I’ll love this new version of you, just like I’ve loved every other version of you.”

“No, Matt.”

She tried to struggle out of his hold but he wasn’t going to let her go this time. He backed her against the wall behind her, pining her in place with his firm grasp on her upper arms.

Screw being kind and understanding. He was going to fight for this. For them.

“I loved you when I thought you were a college grad from Illinois,” he growled. “I loved you when I found out you were a Black Widow. I loved you when you were keeping secrets from me, and when you told me the truth. I loved you when you were half a continent away, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again.” His voice was like gravel, the words torn from the depths of his soul. “I will love every iteration of you, Calina Balashova. I was made to love you. And there is no force in this universe that will ever make me stop loving you.”

His hands moved from her arms to her face, and he cradled her cheeks as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then one to her bruised cheek. Another to the angle of her jaw. Her eyelids fluttered closed, a tear escaping her eye, and he stopped it’s descent with his lips. He kissed the corner of her mouth, so close to where he really wanted to be. He wanted to capture her lips and convince her with his kiss that he loved her. That it didn’t matter what the serum had done to her.

That maybe he would be the one to bring her peace now.

Or, failing that, he would be the one to stand by her side and steady her as she swung through her emotions.

If she broke down in tears, he would hold her as she cried.

If she panicked, he would breathe with her until she calmed.

If she lashed out, he would take the pain.

He would give her whatever she needed, gladly and willingly.

So he lingered there, his lips on her cheek, his hands in her hair, his body pressed against hers, waiting for her to take that last step and accept what he was offering.

But she didn’t. Instead she put both hands on his chest and shoved him…hard.

He stumbled back in shock. “Calina-”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, her words laced with steel. “No. You didn’t love me, not really. Not when you couldn’t trust me.” She pushed off the wall and strode towards him. “It would never have worked out between us. We both carried too much damage. I was so scared the entire time we were together that I wasn’t good enough for you - that you’d figure that out and leave - and you never trusted me. One benefit of taking the serum? It let me see our relationship objectively.”

“Godammit, Calina, love isn’t meant to be looked at objectively! It’s the most subjective thing there is.”

“That doesn’t change the facts-”

“No, you’re the one changing the facts,” Matt said, jabbing his finger at her. “You’ve managed to rewrite our history over the last five years. And maybe to you it is history, but for me it was weeks ago! I was in this - us - weeks ago, and I know how good it was. How amazing we were together. And so do you. Your actions speak volumes, Calina.”

“What are you talking about?”

He gestured around them. “How about the fact that you bought my apartment?”

“That was just—”

He cut her off, taking a step closer, his voice low and deliberate. “Or how about the fact that you have my name branded on your neck?”

Her fingers flew to the small tattoo behind her ear. The one he’d felt beneath his lips the other night in the club.

M.M.

His initials, written in braille on her skin like a hidden, coded love letter.

“How long has it been there, Calina?”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters to me. How long?”

“I- I got it a couple of years ago."

"Back when you were taking the serum." It wasn’t a question.

She bit her lip and nodded.

"So three years after I disappeared, and under the influence of an emotion-suppressing chemical - when you supposedly weren’t feeling anything - you got a tattoo of my name. You don’t do that, Callie, if the relationship meant nothing. If it was doomed from the start, as you seem to think."

“But- but we had a fight just before you disappeared-”

“Yes, it was a fucking fight! It didn’t mean we were over. And it didn’t negate everything we’d been through before that. In fact, I was on my way back to you when I disappeared. I was going to get down on my knees and grovel and beg for your forgiveness. I was going to convince you, once and for all, that I did trust you. I was going to tell you that I’d let all that other shit go. All the resentment I’d been carrying around for years. All of the anger at my mother’s betrayal, and Father Lantom’s lies. Elektra and Stick…everything. I was going to let it all go - I have let it all go. Because the only thing that matters is you. These last two months have shown me that, without a shadow of a doubt.”

He reached out and captured her hand, placing it on his chest, right over the pounding beat of his heart. “I love you, Calina. You have all of me - you have my heart, and my soul. My trust. My scarred and battered body. You fucking own me. How can you ever think you weren’t good enough for me, when you’re everything to me? You’re everything, goddammit, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove that to you. You just need to let me.”

He stroked his thumb over the hand pressed to his chest. “Will you let me, sweetheart? Will you give me that chance?”

She closed her eyes again. “I’ve told you why we can’t be together-”

“No!” He yelled, dropping her hand. He raked his fingers through his hair - when what he really wanted to do was pull it out in frustration. “No, all you’ve done tonight is give me a bunch of bullshit excuses. That you’re not the Calina I knew. You’re too unstable, and you can’t control yourself. You think I don’t trust you. You think what we had wasn’t real…It’s all bullshit, Callie. There’s only one thing that matters.”

“And what’s that?”

“Whether you still love me or not.”

———

Love.

It wasn’t that simple. It had never been that simple.

Calina tried to tell him, but all that came out of her mouth was his name, whispered with so much pain and regret. “Matt…”

She took a step back, trying to get away from him. It was all too much. He was too much. This is what she’d been afraid of, coming here. That he would overwhelm her. Pull her apart, rip at her skin until she was nothing but a raw nerve, exposed and throbbing in time with her hammering heart.

His touch, his words, his intensity, his passion…it was all too much. She couldn’t think.

She couldn’t collect her thoughts - all of those rational justifications she’d come up with for why they couldn’t be together. There was no space in her head. It was all taken up by him, and the way he was touching her, and the wonderful, beautiful, heart-rending things he was saying.

I was made to love you.

The only thing that matters is you.

You have my heart, and my soul.

You fucking own me.

You’re everything.

It was too much. She could barely breathe, let alone answer the questions Matt was firing at her as he stalked her across the living room.

“Do you love me, Calina?”

“I…”

“Do you want me?”

“Matt-”

“Is there someone else?”

“No!”

“Do you love me?”

Her back hit the wall.

“Do you want to be with me?”

His hands slammed against the wall, either side of her head.

“Do you love me, Calina?”

It was too much. He was too close.

She snapped.

“YES!” she yelled. Then she surged up to her toes and kissed him.

————–

Chapter 17

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