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luvskywalker · 3 years ago

Text

daylight: matt murdock x reader

word count: 4.5k

warnings: language, injuries, mentions of trauma (reader is a former black widow so…), mentions of alcohol

a/n- inspired by daylight by taylor swift (pushing the matt murdock is a swiftie agenda)!! i have been writing this mf fic for soo long you have no idea. i was going to give up on it but daylight is one of my favorite taylor swift songs and i cant let her down like that. i hope you all enjoy <3

you were just as cruel in love as the crime bosses of hell’s kitchen, you hurt the good and seemed to trust the twisted. everyone looked beautiful in your foggy outlook, and yet your love seemed to ache instead of heal. the people from your past were blurred over, a side effect of having tunneled vision, until you saw him.

you were a vigilante, a former black widow who took to the streets with your talents rather than to the government like others. one night, you were hunting out a lead on the Kitchen Irish, when everything changed. he was there, in his stupid gimmicky suit, and you had saved him. quite frankly, he was getting his ass handed to him. your shared target was landing blow after blow to the devil, and you had enough. quicker than light, you beat the information you needed out of the man, adding in a punch in for the daredevil who was observing in careful silence. after you’d lay waste to the guy, you’d offered your hand to the daredevil.

“you know i can’t see that, right?” he said quite gruffly.

you looked at him completely at his remark and noticed the red material covering eye holes in his mask.

“i know that now…” you replied, and dropped your hand.

“you’ve got a funny way of saying thank you.”

you watched his face break out in a smile, and he shook his head side to side.

“and you’re obviously not too humble.”

you listened to his voice and noted he was disguising it, making it rougher than whatever his normal tone was. smart, but also funny to listen to.

“i saved your ass, i shouldn’t need to be humble.”

“i wouldn’t go that far”

“i would. so, wanna help me get rid of these assholes? you do owe me one now.”

and that was the beginning. after that day, the fog you saw the world through lifted a little.

daredevil became your partner in stopping crime. turns out you worked well together, so you kept working together. you had taken down the bad left and right, night after night. you’d taken to his way of doing things, happy to escape the killing that splattered your past with red. texts on your phone from his burner number became normal, and you’d made your first paper together, The Devil and the Widow.

your life was complicated. not many people fight crime and also go to law school, and you weren’t one of them anymore; you were now a fresh graduate from columbia law.

after your escape from the red room you came to america, got your GED, went to college, and went to law school. on top of that, you still found time to fight crime at night and teach ballet at a nice studio. you had reclaimed the years dreykov had stolen from you, and by the age of 29 you were fairly accomplished. accomplished and actively ignoring letters with the shield logo that keep showing up at your front door.

you gave yourself a month to find a job before you even touched the letters. who even sends letters, anyway?

you had a plan for yourself, and that plan was nelson and murdock. you admired their work, their devotion to the people was something you aimed to have. maybe it would counteract your checkered past. the nice lady, miss page, told you that they would love to interview you, and you didn’t even care that they probably wouldn’t pay.

matt nearly peed his pants when you came through the door of nelson and murdock.

your name wasn’t connected to the widow, but you didn’t hide your face. you were always quick enough to avoid anyone but matt really seeing you, payoff from the years of being a spy. he was not expecting the person he fought with every night to be a girl fresh out of law school in search of a job.

he figured he should greet you, but you beat him to the punch.

“i’m (y/n) rushman… a ms karen page set up an interview for me.”

he moved from behind his desk to come greet you.

“i’m matt murdock, my associates, mr nelson and ms page are out today, so i’ll be interviewing you alone.”

his voice sounded familiar, and upon careful inspection you noticed his face did too.

you brushed it off, and responded with an “okay”.

the interview went well, and matt seemed to like you. he was also incredibly charming, and you held yourself back from any delusions of romance with an iron fist. however, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you knew him from somewhere. it wasn’t until you were leaving that you noticed something. there was a light bruise by his jaw, something you saw on daredevil last night.

holy shit.

how could he think he was fooling anyone?

or maybe you were just hyper observant former russian assassin.

you walked out as quick as you could without causing him alarm.

what the fuck do you do with that?

matt was thinking the exact same thing. you, the best spy and fighter he’d ever seen, were fresh out of law school? and looking for a job? he tried not to let his mind run away with him, tried not to let his stupid subconscious tell him it was divine intervention bringing you to him. why? because he was completely captivated by you and he hated himself for it. he had been conditioned to push people away when they got anywhere remotely close, but you had been close for months and he couldn’t push you away even if he wanted to. he hated himself even more now because he realized he didn’t know anything about you, and now? he was determined to find out.

your phone buzzed on your nightstand next to you, interrupting your current binge of brooklyn 99. you should’ve expected the text from daredevil- matt murdock- because it always came at exactly 9:05.

you replied to his same place?

with a simple be right there.

you had decided you just wouldn’t mention you knew his real identity.

you met him on the rooftop of a random apartment building every night at 9:15, ready to work with him to fight whoever he heard that night, but not tonight.

you arrived at the rooftop, decked out with your black suit and luminescent blue tasers, to find matt not suited up, but wearing a black mask over his face.

“what’s going on?” you asked, voice laced with confusion.

“i need to talk with you.”

he wasn’t trying to hide his voice anymore.

“about what? pretty sure there’s still crime out there that needs stopping, d.”

you went to turn and walk away, because though you did like fighting side by side with him, you didn’t need him to help people.

he figured he would just come out and say it.

“i know you know. about me.”

“well that’s a relief. i wonder how you fool anyone, honestly.”

he shook his head a little.

“i like to think i get by just fine.”

“keep thinking that, mr murdock.” you said, patting his shoulder in consolation.

“matt. you can call me matt if you come inside and talk with me. kitchen won’t die if you take a night off.”

you tsked.

“real fresh coming from you, matt. im rolling my eyes, by the way.”

“i know.”

he walked away, assuming you’d follow, and you did.

he’d led you to his apartment, and it was nearly silent between you.

“how the hell did you get an apartment this big?” was your ice breaker.

“look by the window.” he said, gesturing haphazardly to the large panes.

you looked over to the window, but didn’t have to put in much effort, seeing bright but soft pink light wash out the room, from an electronic billboard.

“woah” was all you could come up with.

real nice.

it was kind of awkward, honestly. you barely knew the guy, and also, he was very attractive. on top of that, you were regulating your heartbeat because you were sure if you let it go on its own, he’d hear it thump.

he chuckled at your speechlessness.

“so, matt, what is it you want from me?”

he tilted his head to the side and you thought he looked like a puppy.

“to get to know you.”

he didn’t beat around the bush.

“there’s a lot to know.”

he shrugged, and sat down on his couch. you opted to sit in the chair across from him, and you took a careful breath. you supposed you could tell him everything.

“my name is (y/n). i don’t really have a last name. i was too young when they took me to know it. rushman comes from a girl i once knew.”

he didn’t know about the red room. he knew you were a former assassin who wanted to change, but he didn’t know the true extent.

you were grateful he didn’t interrupt, because if he did you didn’t think you’d be able to continue.

“i was probably about three, when a man, dreykov, took me from my home. i was selected from a program analyzing genetic capability. it was like trafficking, but instead they trained us to kill. they educated us very well, taught us ballet, but they also drugged, beat, and tortured us. only one girl survived each “class” of the red room. it was kill or be killed in its truest form. and after that, after you “graduated”, they sterilized you and sent you out to kill some more.”

you didn’t bother sugarcoating what happened. the only thing you worried about was him seeing you differently.

he remained silent, so you continued.

“i was made to do bad things, and it ate away at me. one day, i had enough. i had been a widow for 16 years, and i found my way out. i was on a solo mission, one of the few he trusted for those, and right when i got to france, i cut my tracker out and i hid. i found my way here and i knew i wanted to do good with my new life. i wanted, and still want, to do whatever i can to be good, because i spent so many years being a monster. so, i got my GED, my degree, went to law school, and then went to your firm.”

he seemed to be processing all that you told him. you couldn’t help but worry in the stifling silence as he digested your story. you were worried he’d see you differently now- see you as the monster you tried to leave in the past.

“well first i should say that won’t impact if i hire you or not.”

you snorted and he had his… matt look on his face.

“but to me it sounds like you’ve been through hell.”

“and now i’m here with the devil.”

he gave you a little smirk, and you admired the way the soft pink light shone on his face.

you leaned back in the chair, shifting to get more comfortable.

“so, what about you, mr devil?”

“long story.” he said, and you scoffed.

“good thing i’ve got lots of time. you made me tell my sob story, let me hear yours.”

he chuckled and you held your heart tight, not wanting it to run away from you to him.

matt didn’t know what made him let you in, but he opened up his doors to you without you even having to knock.

he told you everything. and he could hear your heart ache for him, but he knew you, so he knew it wasn’t pity.

“so… you’re basically like a bat. you could’ve been like batman. sounds a lot cooler than daredevil.”

“hey, i like the name.”

you shared a laugh, and matt wished he could bottle the sound and save it for later.

you took out your knife from its holster on your forearm, and started to spin it around in your hand.

“not trying to get stabby on me now, are you?” matt asked, smirking at you.

“might have to, who knows.”

you twirled the blade, passing it through your fingers.

“your heart is beating faster.”

he stood up, and walked toward the chair you were sitting in.

“what’s on your mind?”

“is it right to ask if i got the job?”

he shrugged.

“don’t see why you wouldn’t. smart, have to be to go to nyu with a GED, and then columbia law. a girl after my own heart, i’d say. plus, i know you are on the right side of the things that go down here in the kitchen. why do you ask?”

he leaned on the side of the chair, towering over your seated form.

“no reason.”

“i can tell when you lie.”

“you’re listening to my heartbeat? got a crush, d?”

he shook his head and smiled, and you swear you saw his face flush a little. or maybe it was wishful thinking.

“im getting letters from shield. i told myself if i didn’t get a job in a month i’d go work for them.”

“do you want to?”

“no.”

“no one can make you do anything. don’t give anyone that power, (y/n).”

he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, and you knew he could probably hear your heartbeat pick up slightly.

“thank you. you’re right, matt.”

he smiled down at you, and you’d bet it was worth a million dollars.

“always am.”

you put your metaphorical cloak and literal dagger away, though you did keep your taser on you; it was morning now, but you could never be too safe in hell’s kitchen. you grabbed your duffel bag and headed to the studio to teach your little ballerinas. halfway through the walk, you got a call from the number you recognized belonging to nelson and murdock. you couldn’t help the excitement that crept in as you answered.

“hi, miss rushman?”

“hello, this is her.”

“this is karen page, i’m calling to let you know we’ve decided to take you on as a part of the team! i’m sure matt told you all the details.”

“yes, he did.”

“great! i look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

she sounded genuine, and you appreciated that.

“i’ll be there!”

she ended the call, and you walked to the studio with a new spring in your step.

you had gotten up extra early the next day, nerves blending well with your excitement. you donned a navy blue suit- the color of truth- and practically ran around your apartment getting everything you needed before heading out to your first day.

upon entering the office, you were greeted by karen page. she was very pretty, and she matched the mental image you’d created for her from your phone calls. she was just as genuine in person as she was over the phone.

“matt told me all about you, i’m happy to have another girl in the office.” she said with a kind smile, which you returned.

“it’s good to meet you, miss page. i’m happy to be here!”

“please, call me karen. there’s no need to be super formal here, we’re basically like a family.”

you nodded, offering up an apology which she brushed off, before she set you up at your desk.

“you’ll have to share the room with matt, we’re not exactly the biggest firm out there.”

“it’s no problem, really.”

she left the room, and you’d started settling the few things you brought in on the other half of matt’s desk. you started to let your thoughts wander as you placed a little succulent down.

did they know about matt? if they did… did they know about you?

the door opening snapped you out of your thoughts.

“(y/n), glad to see you settled in.” matt entered the room and you almost started.

“glad to see?” you asked him, and he barked out a laugh that drew the attention of foggy and karen.

“our new lawyer!” you heard in the distance, and matt signaled you to follow him.

you stepped outside to be met with the man you’ve heard so much about.

“(y/n), it’s good to meet you, matt’s been talking so much about you. he always seems to find the pretty one- ow!“ foggy was cut off by a jab from matt’s cane.

“i didn’t know i was entering a workplace with such violence” you feigned bewilderment, “i don’t know if i’m suited for this environment”

matt gave an exaggerated shrug while karen and foggy laughed at your dramatics.

“i can see why he talks about you so much now.” karen said, winking at you and matt’s face flushed a dark pink.

“you guys are going to scare her off, it’s her first day.”

“like some compliments are going to scare off the widow.” foggy said nonchalantly and you tensed up.

“what did you say?” you asked, voice breathy.

“they know… about me.” matt said, sending your worry. he walked over to you and placed his hand gently on your shoulder, the touch effectively soothing you.

“and you told them about me?”

“on accident. you know i’m a terrible liar.”

you scoffed, but you weren’t mad. if matt trusted them, you could too. your face broke out in a smile and you gave a simple “it’s alright.”

“i feel like i’m intruding on a private moment here…” foggy said, causing matt to drop his hand from your shoulder and you to step away from him.

“foggy, stop.” matt said, and it sounded almost like he was embarrassed.

foggy held his hands up in defeat, and walked out of the room, taking karen with him into his office.

“sounds like i have an admirer.” you said to matt, smirk on your face.

“who, karen?”

you swatted his arm and he chuckled.

“maybe i am your admirer.”

your heart picked up speed, and matt chose this time to reach out to your face and tuck your hair behind your ear.

there was no need in hiding your own rapidly beating heart, because you could hear matt’s breathing getting a little heavier in the closeness.

the tension in the room suffocated you, and you desperately searched for an out.

“wanna debrief me on your current cases, d?”

“yea, yea sure.” he moved his hand from your head and cleared his throat, turning around to gather his papers.

you let out shaky breaths, and that was when everything changed.

from that day on, you and matt were a bit different around each other.

before, it was light teasing. now? your conversations were mainly extreme flirting.

you were both at josie’s with foggy and karen, playing pool in teams.

“I GET KAREN!” foggy yelled quickly when you proposed the idea of playing teams.

“NO FAIR FOGGY you got to play with karen last time!” you shouted, looping a protective arm around the laughing blondes shoulders.

“i’ve always wanted two people to fight over me” karen said in between laughs.

“glad to know no one wants to play with me. probably because i’m blind.”

matt was watching you interact with foggy and karen so easily, heart fluttering because you had become a part of their little family so easily, like you belonged with them. with him.

“matt, if you wanted me to be your teammate you could’ve just said so. you didn’t have to pull the blind card.”

you slipped your arm from karen to ruffle matt’s hair.

he ducked his head down, face glowing at the light of your touch.

his hair was soft, and he loved the playful way you tousled his hair.

“sometimes i wonder if they know they’re a couple.” foggy said to karen.

“i don’t know, let’s ask.” karen started, and even though you could hear them before, she raised her voice to say “hey (y/n), matt, do you guys know you’re a couple?”

she was wearing a wide grin, twinning foggy’s.

“we’re married, actually.” matt said, taking your hand and spinning you around, making a show of things.

“still don’t know how matt always finds all the pretty ones.” foggy said with a roll of his eyes.

“married, huh murdock?” you whispered, looking and his hand that still held yours from when he spun you.

“of course. we’ve been married for years honey, are you feeling alright?” he said, pressing a hand to your forehead and cheeks, making you laugh lightly.

“quit being a dork so we can play some pool!” you said, picking up a cue and jabbing him with it.

karen still beat you and matt, even with foggy on her team. she was really good at pool.

after that, your fun night wound down- for you at least. only foggy and karen chose to drink the night away, you and matt opting not to drink. the two told you they were going to hit another bar, and foggy not so subtly winked at matt when he offered to walk you home.

“you’re lucky, matty. i sacrificed a win at pool for you.” you patted the hand that was gripping your elbow. it endeared you that he still had you guide him, though you and he both knew he didn’t need it.

“i feel like the luckiest man in the world, i’ll have you know.”

“how sweet, i hope you included that in your vows.”

“it was the first thing i said, mrs. murdock.” he was drawing shapes into the arm he was holding, and he could hear the quick thumps of your heart.

“i didn’t pin you as the kind of guy for commitment, matthew, but here you are calling me mrs. murdock.”

your steps had slowed now, and you turned to look at him.

“i guess you changed me.”

he gave you that smirk. the one that made you want to grab him and kiss him until you couldn’t breathe, but, you were strong and so you stood your ground on the stoop outside your apartment building.

“this is my stop.” you said, dropping your arm and he let his hand slip from its hold.

“you didn’t have to walk me home you know. i’m more than capable of protecting myself.”

“i know. i wanted to walk you home, though.”

the tunnel that usually governed your vision opened up and the fog seemed to lift, as he stood in front of you.

“why is that, d?” you said quietly, looking up at his crimson covered eyes.

“guess you’ll have to find out tomorrow.” he said, “get some rest, it’s late.”

you couldn’t have noticed. when you looked at him all you saw was golden light, daylight.

he didn’t tell you the next day. in fact, you hadn’t heard from him at all. it was saturday, so no work, but matt was radio silent since early evening.

usually, you got at least one text from a burner telling you where to meet him for the nightly patrol. it was 10 and you’ve heard nothing.

if you were anyone else, you’d have gone to sleep and assumed and he was just busy, but you’d been through it all.

you’d be lying if you slept a wink.

it was 4 am when you were shot out of your reverie by the incessant buzzing of your phone on your nightstand.

foggy.

“(y/n)… you need to come to matt’s. he’s bad and he won’t let me help him. keeps asking for you, says you know what to do?”

you could hear the panic in his voice and it made your own anxiety levels rise.

“i’ll be there in five.”

foggy took his leave as soon as you arrived, mumbling about how stubborn matt was.

you knocked lightly, careful of sounds too loud. it was something matt really loved about you- how considerate you were at all times, not just to him but to everyone around you.

“matt?” you whispered as soft as you could muster.

he was laying on his his back, the ghosts of cuts cleaned by foggy on his face.

“you’re here.” he said, almost like he was surprised.

“of course i am. wanna tell me what happened?” you tiptoed over to the side of his bed and kneeled there.

“got beat up. kitchen irish.”

“foggy said you were bad, any big cuts i need to stitch up?”

he shook his head.

“then what’s wrong, d?” you brought your hand to rest on top of his, and matt swore you didn’t need his senses to hear his heart pounding.

“i just…” he sighed, looking like he was struggling with something for a moment.

“i just wanted you here. with me.”

he flipped his hand so his palm was up, threading your fingers with his.

“i’m here with you.”

he moved to sit up, and patted the spot next to him on his bed.

you made your way over to the opposite side of the bed and took a seat next to him.

“i’m going to ask you something and it might sound weird.” he turned to you, and you gave a simple “okay.”

“can i… touch your face?”

you smiled, heartbeat picking up at the thought.

“sure.”

his hands felt like sun rays on your skin. they were gentle as they cupped your cheeks, and stroked over your eyes.

it made you nervous, to be caressed in such a way, but it also made you irrevocably happy.

after the moment, one of his hands lingered on your cheek.

“you’re beautiful.” he said, whispered and low.

“so are you, matthew.”

he could feel your smile.

“(y/n)…” his thumb made a little circle on your cheek.

“i think i love you. when foggy found me beaten up in an alley all i could think about was you, how much i wanted you with me, because as long as you were there things would feel okay.”

he took his hand off your cheek to grasp yours and press it to his chest, over his heart.

“it’s like i don’t want to think of anything else since i first thought of you. am i lying?”

“no.” you whispered, and he let your hand go.

you took them to his cheeks, grasping the skin softly, bringing his forehead to yours.

“and i’m glad you aren’t. i think i love you too.”

he smiled, and you were flooded with the daylight again.

you once thought that love would be burning red, but when you looked at matt, all you saw was pure gold.

the gold consumed you when you brought your lips to his, heart soaring to new heights.

his arms found their way around you, and yours around him, clutching each other like one of you may slip away.

his heart also found its way next to yours, fusing with it with the beauty of a sunrise.

you could still see it all in your mind, even years later, all of you intertwined with all of him for the first time like that.

it was golden.

#matt murdock x reader #matt my beloved #matt murdock #matt murdock is a swiftie #daredevil #daredevil x reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #daredevil imagine #x reader #black widow! reader my fav thing ever tbh

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writeroutoftime · 3 years ago

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your heart in exchange for mine

pairing: foggy nelson x reader

summary: foggy has been led to believe it's the material goods that keep a relationship alive, but you strive to prove to him that all you want is to love him and be loved in return

warnings: none (though, I apologize for the marci slander!)

words: 1.3k

a/n: this idea came from watching stardust with charlie cox! specifically the scene where yvaine is telling tristain that she wouldn't expect anything for his love - but foggy instantly popped in my mind! the dialogue from the movie is in italics. please enjoy, and let me know what you think!!

oOoOo

Walking into your office, you let out a small sigh the moment your eyes noticed the vase of flowers that sat in the middle. Though the tulips and daises looked beautifully arranged, you couldn't help the dismay that ran through you. As you studied the bouquet, you saw a card attached in the middle and carefully ripped open the envelope.

Wanted you to have something to brighten your day the way you brighten mine. <3 - Foggy

It was a sweet gesture, but it was also the fifth gift Foggy had given you in the past three weeks. Now most people wouldn't complain about receiving gifts from their new boyfriend, but you weren't with Foggy for the material things he could offer. You were with him because of how sweet, handsome, and loyal he was. Besides, you knew how expensive some of the gifts were and Foggy didn't need to be spending his hard earned money on 'wooing' you when he already had you.

Anytime you tried to have that conversation with Foggy, he brushed your worries away, claiming it made him happy to give you those things. It made your heart ache because you knew why he was like this.

When Foggy had been dating Marci, you saw how she took advantage of his kindness and strung him along. Foggy was the one to put all the effort in their relationship while Marci just reaped the rewards. She made Foggy believe that material gifts were integral to a relationship; and she threated to leave unless he proved his devotion through gifts, running errands, and giving up all his energy.

It was a relief to, Matt, and Karen when they finally broke up, even if it took Foggy some time to see that himself. You just wished you could help to show him he didn't need to act that same way with you.

Sitting down at your desk, you snuck another glance at the flowers. Taking a moment to admire them, you smiled at the sweet fragrance that permeated your office. While the flowers may not have been necessary, they most certainly did brighten your day as Foggy had intended.

oOoOo

Later that evening, you met up with Foggy, Matt, and Karen for a drink at Josie's. While Foggy and Matt left to get another round of drinks, Karen turned to you with a knowing smile on her face.

"Soooo, how are things going between you and Foggy?" she asked, eager to know how two of her favorite people were doing.

"It's been really good." you smiled. "Foggy is so sweet, and I'm glad we finally got over ourselves and admitted our feelings." you said, slightly trailing off at the end.

Karen picked up on your hesitancy, and furrowed her brows. "But?"

"But, he's been giving me all sorts of gifts recently, and I feel bad. Of course, I appreciate them, but I don't know how to make him understand I'm not here for the material things. Like, this morning. I walked into my office and there was a bouquet of flowers, but I couldn't help but feel disappointed."

Fear suddenly froze your body as you heard a throat clear behind you and an awkward shuffle of feet as Foggy came into view, setting two drinks onto the table. You saw the devastation on his face, and you felt as though you had been punched in the gut. Somehow you knew that Foggy had only heard the last part of your speech and took it wildly out of context.

Before you could say or do anything, Foggy grabbed his coat and stormed out of the bar, muttering. "I guess I won't bother anymore."

"Shit, shit, shit." you cried out, hands shaky as you gathered your things to follow after Foggy. "I'll uh, see you guys later." you threw over your shoulder to your friends as you ran to catch up with Foggy.

Though he had only left a minute before you, Foggy walked down the street with a determination to get home that made it seem like he was sprinting. His shoulders were hunched and his body almost caved in on itself as he tried to block out what you had said to Karen.

"Foggy, wait!" you shouted, as you tried to catch up. "Please, Foggy, just listen to me and let me explain."

Ready to break, Foggy stopped in his tracks and turned to see you just a few feet away from him. "I think you've made everything perfectly clear, y/n. Like I said, I won't bother with any of this - with us - anymore."

Tears welled in your eyes at the thought of losing Foggy over a misunderstanding. Without thinking, you reached forward to grasp his hand in yours. "Foggy, please, I promise I didn't mean it the way you thought I did."

"And how else am I supposed to take it?" he shot back, yanking his hand out of your grasp.

"When are you going to understand, Foggy? I don't need any of those things to be happy with you!" you exclaimed, arms flying up in the hair in exasperation.

"I'm just trying to show you how I feel about you." he retorted, arms crossed over his chest.

"But you don't need to!" you sighed, unsure of how to proceed. "Foggy, what I'm trying to say is - I love you." you confessed, shocked by how quickly you had come to that conclusion, though you didn't regret it in the slightest.

Foggy's face softened slightly, his arms dropping back down to his sides. Before he could comment, you rushed forward, letting out all the thoughts and feelings that had been weighing on your heart.

"My heart, it feels like my chest can barely contain it. It belongs to you. And if you want it, I'd wish for nothing in exchange." you explained, taking a few steps forward, a soft smile on your face.

There was a moment of silence as you reached out again and grabbed both of Foggy's hands. This time, he didn't move to pull away, and you brought his hands to rest over your heart, looking straight into his eyes as you continued.

"I know that Marci made you believe that you need to give all kinds of material gifts to keep a relationship alive, but all I want is to show you that isn't true. I'm with you for who you are, not what you can give me. Besides, I don't need any of that stuff. No gifts, no goods, no demonstrations of devotion. Nothing but knowing you love me, too. Just your heart in exchange for mine."

Foggy continued to stare at you, his own eyes now swimming with tears. He gave you hands a gentle squeeze, taking a few more steps closer until there was no room left between you. Without hesitation, Foggy raised a hand to cup your cheek and moved to mold his lips against your own. The kiss was sweet and gentle, but also urgent and you couldn't help but get lost in the warmth he provided.

Slowly pulling apart, you gently swept away the few tears that fell down his soft cheeks with the pad of your thumb.

"I love you, too." he finally whispered, so quietly that you almost missed it. "In case it wasn't obvious." he added, blushing a little.

You leaned in for another quick kiss. "Well, that's a relief." you giggled. "I am sorry, though, Foggy. I don't want you to think I don't appreciate your gifts, but I don't want them to feel obligatory."

"I know." he nodded, looking at his shoes for a moment. "But you're also right. I got scared that you would realize I'm not someone who deserves you, and I panicked. I." he reasoned, resting his forehead against yours.

"It's not about deserving." you told him. "I choose you, I always will. And I'm by your side, every step of the way."

#foggy nelson x reader #foggy nelson imagine #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagines #rita writes

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farfromharry · 4 years ago

Text

Just like momma | Arvin Russell fic

Summary: The Russell boy with the bad reputation is completely smitten with the girl who’s just as angel-like as everyone remembers his momma to be.

Word count - 3,435

Warnings - language

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“Arvin, stop being silly,” you huffed. He’d been going on the entire car ride about how if you didn’t like the food his Grandma was cooking then all you had to do was say. He’d already made the offer of taking you to a diner after you left to give you a ‘nicer’ meal. “I love Emma’s food, a lot of people do. There’s nothing better than a home cooked meal.”

The car finally came to a stop, Arvin leaping out and rushing around to your side so he could be a gentleman before you could even put your hand on the car door.

He threw his arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your temple with a lingering smirk on his lips.

“I could name a few things,” he muttered in response to your earlier comment. You slapped his chest scoldingly, telling him not to be so mean to the woman that raised him. “‘m just kidding, baby.”

You rolled your eyes, letting him pull you closer to his chest to press kisses onto the top of your head. You wouldn’t admit it to him but you did enjoy being engulfed in his intoxicating scent.

“I guess I should say g’bye now,” he said, pulling you out of your daze. You furrowed your eyebrows, looking up at your boyfriend. He motioned with his hand to the small redhead who was running over to you, already beaming at the sight of her older brother’s girlfriend who she adored.

“Y/N!” the girl yelled, taking your hand and already stealing you away from her brother. Arvin huffed playfully, catching your eye as you were pulled over to the group of girls playing on the patch of grass opposite the Russell’s lawn.

He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders at you as you mouthed the words help me. This happened more or less every time you came over to Arvin’s home.

It’s not that you didn’t adore the eight year old, you did, but you came to spend time with all of Arvin’s family for a change.

The boy now had to go find something else to do to entertain himself while you were immersed in the world of pretend with a group of eight year olds.

He headed inside the house to the kitchen where he could already smell his grandma’s cooking, emerging in the room with a wave to his Uncle. He placed a kiss on Emma’s head as a greeting. “Hey, Grandma.”

“Hi, sweetheart.” Barely even a minute inside and she already had him setting the table for the five of them for dinner, Earskell laughing at the boy who almost had a pouty face.

He laid down the plates in the seats you all normally sat in, moving next to take the cutlery off of his Grandma.

“Where’s that pretty lady of yours?” his Uncle asked, noticing Arvin’s solo entrance that was usually accompanied by you.

“Nora’s got her again.” He let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head like he didn’t expect any less from the child. Just like Arvin was used to it, so were all of the Russells, Lenora barely let an hour go by without bringing you up at least once in the house, especially if she hadn’t seen you for a while.

He kept sending longing looks out of the windows, looking at you and the way your skirt flowed in the wind as you chased Lenora around the grass.

Emma noticed, laughing quietly to herself.

“Go on,” she sighed, shooing him out of the door to go and save you from his minx of a sister. He did just that, rushing outside until he was by the steps of the porch. Arvin didn’t want to interrupt yet, wanting to spend a few minutes admiring you as you laughed with the group of girls. He thought you looked so pretty when you laughed, especially with the way the sunlight beamed onto your face, and the way the wind blew your hair away from your face to give him a better view, almost like it was doing it for him.

He didn’t know how long he was just there watching you with that same dumb, crooked smile on his face the entire time, but it was long enough for his Grandma to come outside with an update on dinner.

“She’s just like your momma,” Emma whispered, leaning against the doorframe, a little way behind Arvin. His big brown eyes, the ones that still resembled that little boy she remembers like yesterday, stared at her so softly.

“Really?” he asked. “I don’t really remember her.”

He sounded so sad, and it made Emma’s heart ache. She walked towards him, holding her arms out to engulf the boy in a hug. He was happy to let her, her head resting on his shoulder lovingly.

“She’s so kind, so pure.” The male couldn’t help but smile a little bit, holding the older woman’s hand against his heart while he watched you play with his younger sister.

Arvin wasn’t shy when it came to admiring you, every chance he could get his eyes on you he would. Emma found it so heartwarming to see, the boy so outwardly showing you this love and affection that had been built up inside of him since he was a child himself.

“I like her Arvy. Think she’s the perfect girl for you.”

Hearing those words from one of the most important people in his life felt like everything fell into place for him. You truly were the woman he was in love with, and he may be young but he couldn’t picture ever loving anyone as much as he did you.

His Grandma placed a kiss on his cheek, patting his arm as she turned to walk away. “Dinner’s in ten, make sure you get them both inside on time, mister.” Emma left him alone after that, heading back inside to continue her cooking.

Arvin still hadn’t taken his eyes off of you, and he wasn’t even sure he could wipe that lovesick smile off of his face.

You could feel his gaze basically burning holes into the side of your head, turning your face away from the sun to lock eyes with the pretty boy.

You flashed him a smile that made his knees weak, a blush blossoming on the apples of his cheeks.

You excused yourself from the group of girls for just a few minutes to go and see what your boyfriend wanted, jogging up the path until you were almost in his reach.

“Hi,” you mumbled, pecking his lips cheerfully. His hands drifted to the middle of your back, holding you near him so you couldn’t run away too quickly, he just wanted to hold you for a little while.

“Grandma says dinner’s in ten. Should probably start heading inside, get cleaned up,” he said. You hummed, resting your head on his chest. His large hand rubbed up and down your back, his lips finding refuge on your forehead.

“You get Lenora, I’ll help Emma?” you bargained, feeling as though you’d only get roped back into playing with the girls if you went back there.

“What if I say no?” he hummed, the corners of his lips twitching upwards into a teasing smirk. You scoffed, pulling back from his warm chest to look into those even warmer eyes.

“I mean, I could always go have dinner at Gene Dinw-“ Arvin cut you off by pressing his lips onto yours before you could even finish the guys name. You laughed into the kiss, the lovely sound making Arvin break into a grin himself.

“I’ll do it, I’ll do it,” he rambled, giving you one last kiss before he walked past you and over to his sister. After the first few times she ignored his calls he gave up trying, choosing instead to throw her over his shoulder and carry her inside himself.

You rolled your eyes at how immature he was, heading inside with an amused smile. You greeted Emma with a hug and Arvin’s Uncle with a smile, helping to dish out her cooking onto everyone’s plates.

“Arvin! Put me down,” Lenora whined, kicking her legs frantically. There was a chorus of laughs as Arvin made a rather grand entrance with the girl wiggling around on his shoulder. Your heart soared at the warm smile on his face that he always refused to show.

He let the girl back down onto her feet, receiving a scolding hit from her in response. You giggled as you watched catching your boyfriend’s eye.

“What are you giggling at, pretty girl?” You squealed as his hands grabbed your hips, pulling your back into his chest. His arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his lips meeting your cheek once before he pulled away and took his seat at the table. You pulled the cap from his head, placing it beside him on the table so he looked more presentable, messing up his hair while you were at it.

He grabbed your hand to stop you, planting a kiss onto your palm as you sat down in the seat beside him.

“Now, who wants to say the Lord’s prayer?” Emma asked. You saw Arvin roll his eyes, but a swift kick to the shin underneath the table was enough to have him quietly apologising.

“I think Arvin would,” you said, grinning widely at the boy who looked at you as if you’d just stabbed him in the back.

“I’ll get you back for that.”

»»——⍟——««

Emma gave you all a break between dinner and dessert, shooing you out of the kitchen so she could focus without Arvin constantly trying to pick at her cake mixture.

“Will you two get outta here,” she said, slapping away Arvin’s greedy hand once again. You chuckled, tugging your boyfriend away from his poor Grandma, letting her cook in peace.

“D’you wanna dance with me, darlin’,” he asked, motioning to the old, beat up record player they had. You didn’t know why Arvin was suddenly in such a good mood but you weren’t complaining. You pretended to think about it for a second, trying to hold back the smile that wanted to take over your face.

“I should really be helpin’ Emma.” He didn’t listen at all. He fiddled with one of the records, hiding it with his body so you couldn’t see the name, letting it be a surprise to you.

The sweet sounds of Lonesome Town played through the record player, filling the room with the soft voice of Ricky Nelson. Arvin looked over his shoulder with an inviting smirk settled on his lips, holding his hands out to you with a teasing shake of his hips to the beat.

You snorted, shaking your head at his sudden goofy persona. “C’mere pretty darlin’, dance with me.”

There was no way you could resist, slipping your hands into Arvin’s much larger ones. The boy pulled you into his chest, his hands laying respectively on your waist while your own snaked around his neck and weaved into the mess of hair at the nape of his neck.

Neither of you really knew how to dance, so you took to simply swaying in time to the music, your foreheads resting against each other. You could hear Arvin faintly singing along under his breath, your heart swelling at this vulnerability he was showing you.

“You ready?” he asked. You furrowed your eyebrows, your question answered before you could even ask.

You let out a loud squeal as he dipped you, holding onto you tightly so you knew he wouldn’t drop you. He pressed a chaste kiss on your lips before helping you back up to your previous stance, noses almost brushing from your close proximity.

“Almost gave a damn heart attack, Arv,” you scolded. He still had that boyish grin on his face that you wanted to wipe off. With a few pokes of his fingers to your ribs though you were laughing along with him, rolling your eyes at your immature boyfriend.

The song finished too quickly for your liking, leaving the sounds of your laughter to fill the room instead.

This was your favourite kind of moment to share with your boyfriend, those romantic gestures that no one would ever expect from the towns ‘bad boy’ Russell boy. They were the ones you held closest to your heart.

Emma’s heart was warm as she watched you both dance in her living room from where she was cleaning up in the kitchen. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her Grandson this happy.

“What’re you two doin’?” you heard Lenora’s curious voice before you saw her, seeing the small red haired girl peak her head out from behind her older brother.

You grinned, thinking this could be your opportunity to escape Arvin and go help Emma for a little bit, feeling bad that she’d been doing everything on her own.

“Why don’ you dance with Arvin, hunny?” you asked. He shot you a look, a small frown on his lips as the boy had the idea he was going to get to keep dancing with you, just to another song.

“Y/N,” he tried. You shook your head, watching as Lenora picked out one of the few records on the counter. He sucked it up rather than throwing a tantrum that was unnecessary.

“Arvin I, I don’t know how to dance,” she admitted, looking at her brother shyly. He still smiled down at her, guiding her feet to stand on his shoes, showing that he was going to guide her.

“That boy is completely smitten with you,” Emma whispered, flashing you a smile when she saw the way you got all shy, trying to deny her obvious statement. “And by the looks of it, it’s a two way thing.”

»»——⍟——««

“Crap, look at the time,” you whined, glancing at the clock that rested in the living room. It was much too late for you to be out away from home, your parents were going to kill you. “I should be headin’ home.”

The tired Arvin who you’d been leaning on beside you let out a grunt of protest, pulling you impossibly closer to his body. His grip tightened and you were sure he wouldn’t be letting you go anywhere tonight.

“Jus’ stay, your folks won’t mind.”

It was deeply tempting, his fingers running through your hair and his warm body cuddling yours, you didn’t really want to move at all.

You hummed. “I can’t, not again.”

“Yes you can.”

It was clear that Arvin wasn’t going to budge, so you gave in, accepting that you’d get yelled at by your momma tomorrow. The couch beneath you was growing uncomfortable though, so you were about to insist if you stay, you’re staying in his bed with him.

“Arvin?” you asked, nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder. He whispered a tired ‘yeah’, prompting you to continue. “Can we at least head to bed?”

He sighed, practically forcing his eyes open. The boy took a few minutes to regain himself and his surroundings before he actually gave you an answer to your question. “Yeah, come on.”

Like the gentleman that he is, he helped you up from your comfy position, making sure you were stable on your feet before he let go of you in any way.

His eyes landed on his younger sister who was pretty much passed out not too far away. You chuckled to yourself, noting how peaceful she looked, something you rarely got a lot of in Knockemstiff.

“You head on in, I've got her,” he promised, carefully lifting the child into his arms. You nodded your head, placing a kiss on top of Lenora’s head. “Goodnight sweetheart.”

You were off to Arvin’s room without another word, your tired body craving the boy’s soft, warm bed. It might not have been the biggest bed in the world but that meant you two had to cuddle even closer together to fit, and you loved it.

Lenora’s room was the closest to the living room so within minutes Arvin was tucking her into her bed. He sat down beside her on the bed when he noticed her eyes fluttering open, knowing the girl was gonna need at least some conversation for her to fall back to sleep.

“Arvy?” He hummed quietly, nuzzling his nose against the side of her head affectionately. “I wanna be like Y/N when I grow up.”

He felt his heart swell, looking at the girl like she’d just given him the world. It truly did mean the world to him that she loved you so much, because he completely adored you.

“Then you’ll be a great woman, Nora.” He could gush about you any day of the week, choosing to keep it short this time for the sake of the sleepy girl.

“She’s gonna be a good momma some day.” Her words managed to catch him off guard, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “What d’you mean by that?” She yawned, covering her mouth with her hand.

“If you two ever have any babies, she’s gonna be such a good momma, just like your momma.” Arvin’s heart ached at the words coming out of his sister’s mouth. How did she know anything about Arvin’s mom? But he also blushed a little at the mention of the two of you having babies together.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it before, but picturing a tiny you and him made him feel all giddy and nervous inside.

“Like my momma?” he questioned.

“Grandma talks about her all the time, she sounds perfect,” she explained. He smiled softly, short images of the bits of his old family he could remember.

“Yeah, she was,” he trailed off. He knew he’d get emotional if he continued on talking about her, so he decided to quickly put a stop to it and let Lenora head to sleep.

“Get some sleep,” he said, placing a kiss on top of her head. He made sure the blankets were tucked right underneath her chin so she wouldn’t get cold before he turned off her lamp.

“G’night Nora.” He pushed himself up off of her bed and started heading to the door. “Goodnight Arvin.”

On his way to his room he did one check on his Grandma, making sure she didn’t need anything, before he headed straight for you.

He could see you already tucked up comfortably in his bed, assuming you’d taken the liberty to change into some of his clothes before you did so.

“What took you so long?” you whined, missing your boyfriend’s warmth. He grinned to himself, pulling his shirt off of his body.

“Was jus’ talkin’ to Nora for a little bit,” he said, slipping on a plain white shirt in place of his other one. You hummed, watching as he walked around the small room doing various things. It felt as though he was trying to avoid getting in his bed and you were growing impatient.

“Well hurry, I miss you.”

He chuckled, rolling his eyes playfully as he pulled back the covers. “You just saw me, darlin’.” You groaned, burying your head in his chest when you could, your arms snaking around his torso to hold him as close as possible to you.

“Shut up.”

“‘s not very nice.” This time it was you rolling your eyes. The idea of sleep began to seem more and more appealing to you, letting your eyes flutter shut as any chatter between you and Arvin died down.

It was quiet for a little while, the whole was dead quiet, and Arvin didn’t know if you were asleep or awake as he traced small circles and patterns on your hip with his thumb.

“I love you, Y/N, so damn much. D’you know that?” Your head was tucked under his chin, allowing you to press a chaste kiss to the skin of his neck, a sign that you were still awake; but barely.

“I do,” you said, breath fanning over his warm skin. You felt his hand glide up until his fingers were threading through your hair, the boy planting a kiss on your hairline. “I love you too, Arvin.”

He waited for you to fall asleep after that, he always waited for you to fall asleep. There was something about knowing you were completely calm and safe that relaxed him.

He felt how your breathing was much more even and your body basically melted into him, all signs that you were out for the night. “Sweet dreams, darlin’.”

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arvin russell taglist → @seutarose @theliterarymess @call-me-baby-gir1 @icyhollands @siriuslyslyslytherin @itstaskeen @tpwk-grande @zspideyy @spideyssunshine @hollandcrush @wizkiddx @sannie-san-shine @sonnydoesrandomshit @hopeless-romantic-baby @thehumanistsdiary @dummiesshort @itsbieberxholland @lillucyandthejets @piscesparker @bvttercupbby @mymilliefrommarketing @spideyspeaches @felicityparkers @quxxnxfhxll @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @lou-la-lou @tayyx @bora-world @annathesillyfriend @whoeveniskendall @hollandswife @sunwardsss @dhtomholland @bi-lmg @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @magicalxdaydream

#tom holland #arvin russell fluff #arvin russell #arvin x reader #arvin russell x reader #tom holland fluff

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little-diable · 4 years ago

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Kids again - Dean Winchester (smut)

Inspired by Sam Smiths new song “kids again”. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean and the reader have been friends since they were toddlers, but as she leaves for college, Dean cuts all ties with her, but fate doesn’t work that way, now does it?

Can’t believe I still avoid the East side Even though I know that you don't live there now

“Dean, stop,“ her giggles echoed through the house, running away from Dean, careful not to tumble over his toys, stumbling straight into her mom’s arms. “There you are, you little monster,“ her mom picked her up, tugging her five year old daughter against her chest, hand placed on the back of her scalp, inhaling the sweet scent of (y/n)s shampoo.

He pouted, arms hanging loosely by his side, holding onto the wooden car. „Does she already have to leave?” His wide eyes made (y/n)s mother chuckle, crouching down, grasping his little hand. “She’ll be back before you notice,“ he’d hate seeing her leave for the night, but the excitement of driving to school with (y/n) and her mom in the early morning hours filled the little boy with joy.

Lately you're the only thing on my mind And I can't stop myself on drivin' by your house

(Y/n) clung onto his arms, desperately trying to sober herself up, they had been celebrating his sixteenth birthday together, sneaking off with some booze, sitting on his roof as they kept talking about their past, their future, their hopes and dreams. “Happy Birthday Dean,“ (y/n) giggled, eyes focused on him, blinking a few times, barely noticing how he creeped closer.

Before she could move away from him, Dean had pressed his lips against hers, stealing (y/n)s first kiss. She wanted to push him away, to scold him, for taking away something so special from her, but the butterflies in her belly were enough to shut her up. “Happy Birthday indeed,“ he nibbled on her swollen lower lip, hands exploring her sides, pulling her onto his lap.

The way he sucked on her neck coaxed a moan out of her, unconsciously grinding herself against the centre of his trousers. It seemed like Dean wouldn’t only steal her first kiss that night, no, he’d also be the first to explore her body, to show her what it meant to be appreciated and loved, something he would never be able to say out loud.

Every time I hear our song it kind of hurts me still Even after all this time, I kinda miss you still I'm wondering

“Shut up,“ Dean chuckled, grasping her wrist, pulling her against his chest, swaying to Ricky Nelson’s “lonesome town”, the song they called their own. “Can’t believe that you’re truly leaving for college,“ he rasped out, chin placed on top of her head, tightly holding onto her, as if she’d vanish from his sight any moment. They were surrounded by moving boxes, standing in the middle of her room, the room they had spent too many nights to count in together, from the first day they had met, almost twelve years ago.

She hummed against his chest. „You will visit me, won’t you?” Her heart was clenching, wondering if she should truly leave him and Sammy behind. “Of course I will.“

And don't it make you sad That we'll never be kids again?

But no, Dean hadn’t visited her, seeing her leave had hurted him too much, so the older Winchester brother decided to cut all ties with her, trying to forget about the girl he had fallen in love with years ago. And as much as it did hurt, (y/n) had to accept the sober truth, not once would she mention his name, not once would she listen to her mother talk about the two Winchester boys she hadn’t seen in years.

Somehow along the way it got easier, her heart wouldn’t break in two as she’d think about him, a small smile would tug on her lips every time she’d think about their time together, all the memories they had made. Deep down she knew that their paths would cross again, one day, perhaps rather sooner than later.

“(Y/l/n)?” She had the phone placed between her ear and her shoulder, working around in her kitchen, preparing herself some dinner. “(Y/n)?” The voice made her freeze, eyebrows furrowed together, wetting her lips ere she cleared her throat.

„Sammy?” God, how much she had missed his voice, the younger Winchester brother and her always had shared a special bond. “I need your help, (y/n).“

It took him a while to explain their profession to (y/n), the problem of Dean returning as a demon and finally finding back to his true self, confused and shaken up. “He needs you (y/n),“ Sam exhaled, praying that she’d give in and make her way towards the bunker, finally reunited with the boys she hadn’t seen in years.

On the drive there she kept wondering, if she was doing the right thing, if she should truly go there, most likely getting her heart broken once again. But the slight chance of seeing him again, after years of waiting, seemed too good to be true, she had to do it, either way.

Really wish I didn't know you so well Wouldn't be so hard to leave the past behind

Sam was waiting in front of the bunker, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, wrapping his arms around her as she walked up to him. “I missed you,“ (y/n) mumbled against his skin, tightly holding onto his shirt, admiring how much he had changed, he looked so grown up, a somber feeling washed upon her.

“You haven’t changed one bit,“ the deep voice made her shiver, letting go of Sam as she crashed into Dean’s arms. „Don‘t be an ass Winchester.“ His chuckle rumbled through him, he picked her up, twirling her around, eyes finding hers. Sam awkwardly stared at them, clearing his throat. „Uhm, I’ll leave you guys alone.“ Making his way down the road, to the nearest bar.

She followed Dean inside, shrugging off her coat, trying to find the right words, she desperately wanted to ask him, why he had vanished just like that, leaving their friendship behind, almost like it had never existed. But all her thoughts seemed to leave her as Dean pressed his lips against hers, kissing her for the first time in years. “I’m sorry,“ he mumbled against her lips, towering above her, hands placed on her hips, thumb wandering underneath her shirt, tracing her skin.

It took her a few moments to catch her breath, hands placed on his chest. „There’s a lot we should talk about.“ The words made him groan, his typical smirk tugged on his lips. „We‘ll have enough time to talk.“ ean nibbled on her neck, pulling (y/n) into his lap as he sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, he wouldn’t miss this opportunity, not after years of dreaming about and aching for her.

He had ripped her shirt over her head, lips instantly attached to her cleavage, hands undoing her trousers, fingertips teasing the outlines of her panties. “Fuck, I missed this,“ Dean rasped out, she rose from his lap, shrugging off her jeans, dropping to her knees, unzipping Deans trousers, grasping his hard lenght.

Tell me how you live without it Did somebody change your world And now you don't look back?

Dean had almost forgotten how perfectly her hands would fit around him, stroking him like she had been doing on different occasions, just before she’d leave him and Sammy behind. His head rolled back, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, hands grasping her hair. She couldn’t take her eyes off the gorgeous man in front of her, pressed one last kiss to his tip before she moved away from him.

She found her way back onto his lap, wet folds pressed against his length. „You sure?” He groaned, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, if he’d give in and fuck her right there and then. (Y/n) nodded her head, placing her hands on his shoulders, sinking down on his length.

(Y/n) pressed her forehead against the crook of his neck, balancing her weight on her toes, moaning his name, she had almost forgotten how big he was, deliciously stretching her. No other man had ever managed to bring that heavenly feeling upon her, every time somebody else would touch her, her mind would wander back to Dean.

“God, you’re still so tight,“ Dean growled, hips meeting hers, thrusting deeper into her heat. „Missed you,“ she whimpered, tightening her hold on his shoulders. Dean pulled her in for a kiss, tugging on her roots. „I missed you too.“

And now you don't look back Cause we'll never be kids again No, we'll never be kids again

He kept holding her gaze, lips parted, moans spilling from his lips, getting pulled back into the emotions he had kept hidden away for years. He wouldn’t be one to voice out his love for her, Dean wasn’t one for sappy shit, but oh, he’d do his best to prove his love to her for the rest of his life, not letting go of her ever again.

#Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester imagine #Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester x reader #sam winchester #supernatural imagine #jensen ackles #Sam smith

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deathfxrhire · 5 years ago

Text

I Warned You

Characters: Foggy Nelson ( @nelsons ) and Slade Wilson. Matt Murdock ( @wcrldonfire ) referenced.

Word count: 2,419

Summary: After the confrontation with Daredevil on the roof, Slade decides to follow through on paying Foggy a visit.

Triggers: Violence, blood, guns. Hella angst (thanks Foggy).

FOGGY: “Whatever you say, Murdock! You sure you don’t want me to come with?” Foggy yelled after the man, laughing when his friend flicked him off, saying something about the Chinese take out place a few blocks away. It had become a ritual, for Matt to come to Foggy’s temporary office a day or two a week, eat lunch with him, repair the relationship that had been so fragile over the last few years. It made the lawyer’s chest warm with this ache he couldn’t name, having a part of Matt back. Being a part of his life again. For once, things were going in a good direction - a positive one - since the whole...well, everything. Since things with Karen started. Since he and Matt fell apart the first time.

The door chimed again, and Foggy spun around in his computer chair, grin half-frozen on his face. Where he expected Matt Murdock, stood a tall man. Bold, wide in stature, full of muscle, one eye. Foggy tilted his head, genuine smile turning polite. “Oh uh, hi there.” Foggy pointed to the door, “Thought that was locked. Sorry about that — I’m actually out for lunch right now, but uh, you wanna come back in an hour and I can help you? Mr...?” He asked, trailing off at the serious expression the older man wore.

Foggy had to admit, he wasn’t getting a great vibe. Kind of like that time his aunt hired a clown for Foggy’s college going-away party, right before he’d gone to meet Matt. The eerie feeling of something inhuman looking back at you.

SLADE: Slade Wilson was not one for idle threats. He'd told Murdock during their showdown on the roof that he knew of Foggy, an implicit promise to make the vigilante pay if he tried to get in the way.

Murdock had decided to fight, forced him to come back another day for the kill, and the way Slade saw it, he owed the man fulfillment of his end of the bargain.

Nelson wasn't hard to find, nor was it difficult to time things for after Murdock left--he seemed, like many lawyers, to be something of a creature of habit. Picking the lock is child's play, but Nelson doesn't seem to realize that's what happened. Judging by the faintly wary look on his face, Foggy does realize that maybe his guest doesn't mean well.

Not a complete moron, then. Slade doesn't even bother trying to make the smile he returns look genuine. "Wilson." Without looking, he reaches behind him and flips the deadbolt, expression unfaltering. "There ya go. All locked up now. Wouldn't want anyone else walking in while you're on break, would we?"

Slade crosses to take a seat opposite Foggy, spinning the chair around so he can fold his arms across the back. Foggy Nelson doesn't look like he's got an ounce of defensive capabilities in his entire body, but even so, guns are easy to use at close range. He likes the barrier.

"Go on and eat, Mr. Nelson. Keep your hands visible, if it's not too much trouble." There's a click from behind the back of the chair. One that sounds distinctly like a gun's hammer going back. The smile doesn't falter.

FOGGY: Foggy forces himself to relax, smile more like a grimace now, as this Mr. Wilson makes himself at home in the somewhat empty office. All of the furniture is clumsy and secondhand - amazingly just like Nelson & Murdock had been - so Foggy prays for a second that maybe the shit computer chair will break right out from under the overly buff man, sending him to the floor and giving Foggy just enough time to begin to run away before Mr. Wilson shoots out his knee caps. “You know, funnily enough, I’m not feeling so hungry anymore.” Foggy lays both of his hands on his lap, steeple style like he’s seen Matt do at church, and makes sure he wiggles his fingers for Wilson, just in case the man decides one of them are in his pocket or something.

“What can I help you with today?” he asks, somehow hoping that Matt’s super Daredevil senses are tingling and he will come running back to Foggy and kick this guy’s ass for trying to hurt him. Even big, scary-strong, handsome men like Mr. Wilson get their butt handed to them by Daredevil from time to time. Besides, Foggy’s been shot before — he definitely doesn’t want a repeat performance if he doesn’t have to have one.

SLADE: Admirably steady, this one, despite appearances. Murdock sure knows how to pick 'em.

"You're very calm, Mr. Nelson. Not your first time?" Slade asks, though it's more rhetorical than anything. No one's that calm with a gunman less than ten feet in front of them unless it's not all that irregular an occurrence. "Probably not, I'm guessing, given the company you keep. He's not coming back, by the way--heard him catching a phone call from a 'Karen' on his way down the street. Otherwise he'd have noticed me, I've no doubt. Shame, that."

The sharp grin says otherwise.

The gun comes out to rest on the top of the chair, where his arm is folded, and his other hand reaches into his coat pocket for the suppressor as he continues to chat at the man. "I ran into him a few weeks ago. Told him his friend would be in some trouble if he got in my way. Stubborn man made me miss my shot, that night, so now I've gotta come pay you a visit. A man's word is all he has, you know. You appreciate that, I'm sure: the importance of contracts. I've got a reputation to uphold."

FOGGY: Foggy’s eyes follow the weapon, the first bite of a shiver rolling through his gut. Nausea and discomfort pull at him but Mr. Wilson thinks he’s steady. Thinks he’s cool and collected and is definitely talking like he knows about Matt and his evening activities. Foggy wishes that Matt was a blind stripper or something instead — something Foggy could understand — not a vigilante who hurts people and has their loved ones kidnapped. “So you’re mad at a blind man for making you miss your shot? Sounds a little like maybe you’re not a great shot,” he continues to talk, eyes flickering from the gun to around the room, wishing he had anything but pepper spray with him. His bag is hooked around the chair, but even with the pepper spray somehow in hand, Wilson’s only got one eye. Foggy’s already at a deficit.

“I’m a lawyer. I’ve had many weapons pointed at me — people are angry with me all of the time, especially if they don’t like the outcome of a trial.” Foggy swallows, hand beginning to shake where it’s tightly steepled with his other one. He wants to dart out, knock the gun from Wilson’s grip like he’s seen on NCIS a million times, but he can’t move a muscle, and Wilson looks like that would probably make him pretty fucking angry, so he continues to sit still. “What has Murdock gotten himself into?” Foggy asks quietly, like a friend who didn’t know anything about his best friend being a vigilante would do. He licks his lips and darts his eyes back and forth worriedly, all of those days in theatre club finally coming to good use. Wilson doesn’t know that Foggy knows. Can’t know. Even Foggy still wakes up after a long nights sleep and has to remember that it’s real — that not everything is normal and they’re not just best friends and lawyers anymore. That there’s so much water under the bridge that it laps at their ankles every day.

“We don’t have to resort to violence, Mr. Wilson,” he says somewhat shakily, “You seem like a very smart man. Whatever it is, we can talk about it. You’ve got confidentiality in this room.” He urges, shoulders more tense than he’s ever felt them in his life. The flashback of Matt, bleeding in his arms, laying his bloodied body into Foggy’s lap and readying himself to die there, hits him harder than any of Wilson’s bullets ever could. He would protect Matt with his life, he thinks.

SLADE: A bark of laughter, at that. Despite the situation, Nelson's got a hell of a sense of humor. It ain't gonna stop Slade from doing what he needs to do, but it's a point in the man's favor anyway. "Maybe not," he replies easily, screwing the suppressor onto the end of the gun with all the ease of a trained killer. He doesn't even need to look, gaze instead focused on Foggy. On the way the man's eyes cut toward his bag, the way his hands are beginning to tremble, the way his shoulders have gone stiff and his Adam's apple bobs as he eyes the gun.

There's the fear.

"That's a question for you to ask him. Suffice to say he isn't associating with safe people. You don't get a man like me going on personal jobs by accident. But I ain't here to talk. I am a smart man, but I'm a man of action. Always have been." He draws back the hammer of his gun, and there's a click as the firing pin draws back.

He turns the gun to level it squarely at the space between Foggy's eyes, perfectly aimed despite what should be a handicap without the benefit of two eyes. "No matter how good or bad a shot I may be, Mr. Nelson, there's no missing this close. But you've been entertaining, so I'll tell you what: I'll get you involved, give you a bit of fair choice. Right or left?"

FOGGY: Foggy feels too focused. Almost unfocused at how unbelievable this entire situation is. He’s stayed out of it. He’s followed all of the rules and still bad things happen to him. (Maybe this is why Matt just breaks them.) Licking his lips once more, Foggy’s mind begins to race at what right or left could mean. Is Wilson going to shoot him on the right side of the chest? The left? Shoot a leg? An arm? His right or Wilson’s right?

“Right.” He prays, silently, though he’s never been a religious man. The Nelsons went to church of course, but once grandma died, Foggy stopped going without the expectation. But he prays. Like he’s fifteen again and he feels like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, not knowing what he knows now as a thirty-something year old man. Now that he’s got the weight of a gun pointed at his head. “You have to have some sort of bargaining chip,” Foggy pleads, sweat beading at his brow. Wilson could shoot his eye out. Could shoot him in the heart.

SLADE: That's a pleasant surprise. He'd expected the man to beg, expected to have to ask twice to get a real answer. But Nelson's smarter than that, can clearly tell that Slade isn't the type to change his mind once it's been made up. So the answer comes first, then the plea.

"Bargaining chip? 'fraid not--this isn't a bargain. This is a statement." Slade lowers the gun, leveling it at Foggy's upper arm, and squeezes the trigger home in one fluid movement.

Glass on the desk behind Foggy shatters as the bullet goes clean through, and the shout of pain doesn't even earn a batted eye as Slade pushes himself up out of the chair, gun still in hand. His free hand curls around the back of the man's neck, gun pressed to the man's knee.

"Shh. Breathe through it. Pressure on the wound. I'd stay seated, if I were you--laying down will make you bleed out faster. Now that that unpleasantness is out of the way, I need you to pay close attention. Are you listening?"

FOGGY: The burning in his arm outweighed the queasiness he felt in his stomach. The rolling anxiety that filtered up through his chest and prickled where Wilson’s hands held him up. He remembers this pain. Remembers how he felt sluggish and exhausted, nearly bleeding out on the ground the first time. Remembered how good it felt to have Matt worry about him for once. Now, there is no Matt. No Karen. No Jessica. Just the man who shot him. The man who was cradling him as the blood rushes passed his ears, whispering things to Foggy that he can’t hear passed the chattering of his teeth. His large fingers press into his wound and he lets out a loud keen, followed by a whimper.

He’s going to die here. On the floor of this shit office where he’s just temporarily staying. Foggy’s never gonna get his deposit back —

Matt’s not coming back for him. The panic stays with him, and he feels the tremors of shock run through him as he practically vibrates in Wilson’s arms, “What—“ he croaks, and his voice sounds strained, even to his own ears, and he’s twitching. Matt’s not coming. He’s not here. “What—“ he repeats, and he’s trying to listen. Trying so hard. “Matt,” he says softly, the wetness on his cheeks dripping down his neck and pooping on the collar of his newly stained dress shirt.

SLADE: Yeah, no. Nelson seems to be glassing over already, barely able to keep a handle on what little Slade's already said, let alone whatever he's going to say next.

Damn.

"Oh, isn't that sweet," Slade sighs, and reaches around Foggy instead to grab a pen off the desk, a scrap of paper that's probably important. Not as important as it's about to be.

He scrawls down the note, sets it on Foggy's lap. "There ya go. You just hang on to that for me, there's a good man." He reaches his hand down to Foggy's briefcase, rifles through until his hand closes on the man's cell phone. He pops the battery out and tucks it into his jacket so the man can't call, and for good measure, shoots the desk phone, too.

"Let's see how lucky you are today, Mr. Nelson. Don't worry, I'll even leave the door unbolted--something tells me you won't mind your lunch break being further interrupted, hm? Good luck, kid."

And with that, he's gone, leaving a bleeding-out Foggy Nelson hunched in his chair and three simple words on the paper on his lap.

I warned you.

#c: foggy nelson #d: i warned you #f: discord #//lola kindly indicated to me after this that matt cannot #//in fact #//read the note #//but its fine we're fine it's all fine Slade doesn't have custody of the Wilson family braincell anyway

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funeral-clown · 5 years ago

Text

at last, beth, the triad is complete

gay lawyers

Kevin Punt was an asshole. Violent. Angry. Sadistic.

You know, an asshole.

When Nelson and Murdock put him away for a few years, Foggy started resting a bit easier. Not much, because, well. Drop in the ocean. And. Well. Crime fighting partner with a masochistic streak. And. W e l l.

He didn’t sleep much.

But he slept better after locking Kevin Punt behind bars.

So when his parole hearing came up, he and Matt were quick to retake the case. The evidence was irrefutable, and the last thing they wanted was a monster like him back on the streets.

Kevin Punt’s family was, to say the least, not pleased.

“Ma’am,” Matt interjected in his best ‘I am a sexy blind lawyer, please give me your attention and listen to me and maybe take your shirt off if you want haha just kidding but seriously listen to me’ voice (although that may just be Foggy’s interpretation). “I’m sorry you have to go through this again. But the fact of the matter is, your cousin was guilty. No one wants to face their family members’ dark side, but in Mr. Punt’s case, his violent tendencies and criminal persuasions make him a danger to the public.”

“My cousin,” the young woman hissed back, tears burning in her eyes like rage, “Was innocent. You’re liars. You’re as corrupt as everyone else in this damn city!”

“Hey,” Foggy began, “I know it’s hard to hear-”

His frankly very soothing tone apparently did not work. It was possible his frustration was poking through.

“He’s innocent! He would never hurt anyone, he’s just confused!”

“Sure,” Matt sighed, exhausted, “He didn’t commit egregious acts of violence. He just stumbled into that store owner with a baseball bat. Multiple times.”

“That’s unsubstantiated!”

“There was VIDEO!”

“Doctored evidence!”

“Miss Punt,” Matt broke through, a hint of his alter ego breaking through the thin veneer of civility, “I offer my condolences again. One can’t choose their relatives, and I admire your support. But I’m going to have to insist you leave.”

She stiffened.

“Fine,” she snapped, “But we’ll see how you silver-tongued lawyers do in court when the truth comes out.”

“Pretty sure we’ll rock it, ok, thanks for coming in! Bye!” Foggy watched as she stormed out the door. “Aaaaand she’s gone. Jesus, the whackadoo apple must consist of the whole family tree.”

Matt hummed.

“It was a little weird though, wasn’t it?”

“What?”

“What she said. That last bit.”

Foggy shrugged.

“You didn’t see it, but she had desperate written all over her. She’s just another grieving family member with false hope. Sad, but not exactly uncommon. I expected her to say fake news next.”

Matt stared at the door, considering.

“Yeah,” he muttered.

“Anyway, are you hungry? I could murder some pad thai.”

Matt snorted, and the daily lunch argument began. The strange encounter soon fled to the back of his mind.

For the moment.

When Matt came in for work the next morning, his body was still sore from a relatively painful night. Not too much activity, with his reputation, but it just meant the people who were out and about were more prepared than usual. The armor could only do so much against a taser. Still, the ache was good. It was the ache of a job well done, an ache that saved lives. He took a quiet pride in it, in what his body could do. That said, the day would look much better after a cup of coffee.

“Wow,” Foggy remarked fondly, “You look like hell.”

Matt groaned.

“Do you ever get sick of making that pun?”

“Nah,” he said, “It feels fresh every time. Besides, you like the puns.”

“No, they’re childish and lame,” Matt says.

This is not what comes out of Matt’s mouth.

“Yes, the teasing is a comforting reminder of how far we’ve come since you first discovered my vigilantism. I was afraid of losing you, and the fact that we can now openly joke about it is reassuring.”

Foggy stared, cup halfway to his mouth.

“Uh. Wow, buddy. Thanks for the. Honesty?”

Matt frowned.

“That’s. Not what I meant to say.”

“No, don’t wig out now. It’s kinda refreshing, not having to guess what you’re thinking.”

“Yeah,” Matt said dubiously, “I keep a lot of things private from you because I fear for your safety, and I know it frustrates you but I’m not willing to put you in harm’s way for my own sake.”

Matt glared down at his hands. Foggy’s eyes widened in shock.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Matt’s eyes snapped up.

“Foggy.”

“Matthew,”

“Lie to me.”

Foggy stood up, leaning over his desk.

“What’s that?”

“Lie to me. Something’s wrong. I need to make sure it’s just me.”

He could feel Foggy look him over.

“You look the same, pal. And by that I mean extremely attractive.”

Foggy breathed in sharply. Matt smirked.

“Let me guess.”

“I didn’t mean to say that!”

“Foggy. Something is very wrong.”

“I stole your pillow in college because it smelled like you and it helped me fall asleep!”

“Fog, I. You. Jesus, Foggy!”

“I need to leave right now immediately.”

Before he could stop him, his partner had grabbed his jacket and was out the door.

“Wait!” he called out. But Foggy was already gone.

Danny hummed thoughtfully over the phone, staring in consideration at the paper in front of him.

“Well, it’s a good thing you called me.”

Matt sighed.

“I couldn’t think of anyone else, and if I could have I would have called literally anyone else.”

“Hey!”

“Rand, I can’t help it! I’m compelled to honesty!”

“Doesn’t mean you have to be a jerk. Well, more of a jerk than usual.”

Matt grit his teeth.

“You’re a man with the heart of a child and the power of at least a MINOR god, I don’t think you’re very responsible and quite frankly while I’m very proud of the strides you’ve taken with your company and wouldn’t want it in any other hands I’m morally opposed to billionaires.”

Danny nodded, beginning to fold creases into the paper.

“Yeah, sounds like a truth spell buddy. You piss off any witches?”

“None that I know of.”

Danny shrugged.

“I just shrugged.”

“I could hear it.”

“You can hear shrugs?”

“Danny.”

“Look, best I can say is let it runs it’s course. These type of things are meant to teach us lessons.”

“I don’t have time for zen bullshit!”

“Sure, Catholic. Also tampering with the spell might make it permanent. Which.”

“Fuck.”

“Have fun saying your Hail Mary’s for that.”

“Good bye, Daniel.”

“Bye, Matt!”

He waited for the click before presenting the table with a perfectly folded paper football.

“You ready for this, Luke?”

“Oh, I was born ready.”

“Foggy,” Matt’s phone politely informed him. “Foggy. Foggy. Fo-”

“Answer,” he snapped.

“It’s a truth spell!” Foggy blurted.

“Yeah, I know. I talked to Danny.”

“Rand? Really?”

“He was on a magical temple for most of his life. How did you figure it out?”

“I just asked Stephen Strange.”

“What?”

“I’m his lawyer. And I never grumble at him, so he likes me better.”

“What did Strange have to say?”

“He said it would probably run about a week, and if he tampered with it it might become permanent.”

“Sounds about the same.”

“You know who did this, right?”

“Punt.”

Foggy growled.

“I am getting really sick of that family, Matt.”

“It’ll be over soon.”

“This is going to make working on the case hell.”

“Why?”

“Because now I have to actively resist telling everyone I know that you’re Daredevil. And I have to actively resist telling you that I-”

The dial tone clicked.

Foggy had apparently found a loophole.

It was awkward. They both left the room multiple times. Matt didn’t know what Foggy was keeping secret, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to admit he was in love with him. Even if it was obvious to everyone else.

“You know,” Foggy remarked over noodles, “This curse sucks, but like. It kinda evens the playing field.”

Matt quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, I mean. You can tell I’m lying whenever you want. But. Now I know for sure you’re not lying to me, either.”

“I’m sorry I hurt your trust enough that you worry about that.”

“I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t trust me.”

“I didn’t want to put you in harm’s way.”

“I’d put myself in harm’s way for you any day. We’re bros.”

Matt bit his tongue.

“Matt?”

Matt bit harder.

“Matt, what the fuck your mouth is bleeding! What’s going on?”

“I’m trying to keep things to myself,” he grunted, hoarse.

“Jesus, Matt, do I need to leave?”

“I never want you to leave.”

“What?”

“I never want you to leave.”

Foggy paused, wheeling the chair around the desk to be knee to knee with him. He radiated caution.

“Well. I never want to have to leave you, buddy.”

“I don’t,” Matt choked out, throat closing from the strain of keeping the words down, “Want to be your buddy.”

Foggy smelled hurt.

“What?”

“Foggy. I don’t just want to be your buddy.”

Foggy gulped.

“I’ve been trying really hard, here, Matty.”

“I know.”

“I don’t. Want to misunderstand. But it hurts to not say what I want to say. What I’ve always wanted to say. And I don’t. I don’t want to say it, if you’re. If you’re not gonna say it back. Not gonna feel it back.”

“Foggy,” Matt whispered.

“Matt.”

“I knew you took my pillow.”

“I know you knew.”

“I never asked to switch back.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Foggy’s hand shook as it reached forward and rested on Matt’s. His skin nearly screamed at the sensation, aching all over from the long time sense he had last been touched like this. Carefully. As if he were fragile. As if he could break.

“Foggy,” he breathed.

“I really want to kiss you,” he admitted, half hope and half rue.

“I’ve wanted you to kiss me for almost 7 years.”

“Well,” Foggy leaned in, “Better late than never.”

It was soft, and firm, and a little wet. It was an everyday, normal, average kiss.

Matt lit up everywhere like an electric panel, gasping as the sensation washed over him. Gripping his hair, he pulled Foggy in deeper, opening his mouth in an attempt to steal back his breath.

“I love you,” he whispered into his mouth, “I think I might have loved you my entire life. I just didn’t know it yet.”

Foggy’s hands tightened around his thighs.

“I love you too. I’ve loved you since we first met. I’ve loved you for so long I don’t know how not to love you.”

“Don’t learn,” Matt hissed, fierce. “Don’t learn how. If you left I’d be lost.”

“Don’t worry, Matty,” Foggy laughed, pulling him in closer by his tie, “You’re the fast learner.”

The trial wasn’t very long. They presented the evidence, spoke of the victim’s family, mentioned his irrational behavior, spoke of the personal threats they’d received in the mail.

Every word of it was honest and true.

Kevin Punt did not receive parole.

His cousin stood in the audience, crying as he was taken away, screaming threats.

“It’s true,” she whispered. “He really did those terrible things.”

Foggy lay a comforting hand on her elbow.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

She nodded, sniffling.

“Also, you’re a bitch for placing that spell on us.”

She stiffened, before sighing and nodding again.

“I just wanted him to have every chance.”

Foggy squeezed her elbow and left.

“I guess I deserved that. You make someone speak truth, he’ll call you a bitch.”

“Oh, he would have called you that anyway.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t like it when his privacy is invaded. I should know, I’m Da-”

“MATT. I need you to come take me home until this thing wears off!”

Matt turned towards the door.

“Be right there, sweetheart.”

He offered his arm to the woman.

“Thank you.”

“For what? I need you to lead me to my partner.”

“Oh! Right, I’m sorry.”

“Not a problem.”

Bitch, he added silently.

“We’re going to have victory sex after this,” he added.

“The spell wore off after the hearing!”

“I know,” he was giddy, “I just wanted everyone to know. I’m a very lucky man.”

“That you are, Matt,” Foggy took his arm from the stricken woman and gave his hand a squeeze. “That you are.”

“Did you just wink at me?”

“Yup.”

“Good.”

There were some benefits to honesty.

#mattfoggy #beth this is the final part of the honesty trilogy #a witch made them do it and by do it i mean communicate openly and honestly #daredevil

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pomegranate-belle · 6 years ago

Text

For Day 6 of MattFoggy Week: Past or Future

That’s right folks, we’re busting out the TIME TRAVEL!

It’s still in shambles, but have some bits of what I usually call the Obligatory Bittersweet Time Travel AU, even though it has literally my very best pun title ever: “The Temporal Forecast is Decidedly Foggy”

—

The day it happens, his mind and heart war between the cold shock of losing the most important person in his life and the colder knowledge that this was always coming someday. Matt Murdock is dead. Really dead. There’s a body this time, and Foggy can barely look at it but he forces himself to. Forces himself to examine every scar, every birthmark, to make sure. To make sure this isn’t an evil clone or an illusion or—

It’s not. Everything is exactly as it should be.

Except that Matt is dead.

He died saving a kid, so at least he’d be happy about that, Foggy thinks. Not that it does him any good.

—

“Could I go back?” Foggy asks quietly. “Could I change it?”

Strange sighs and fiddles with his sleeve cuff, a troubled expression on his already troubled face.

“Those are complicated questions, Franklin, with complicated answers.”

“I know, I just— Would I be able to try? Would you let me? Or is it a... Is it one of those butterfly effect things, where I’ll, I don’t know, destroy the whole timeline if I sneeze in the wrong place?”

That at least brings a smile, wan, to the sorcerer’s face, and Foggy mirrors it back at him.

“The universe is a fragile thing, but it’s not as fragile as all that. If I sent you back... Time would bend around your existence. Make room for you. If unraveling the universe were as simple as a man’s wish to save someone he loved, well, I’m sure the universe would have ended many times over by now.”

It’s... A lot to digest, but the gist is simple.

“You’ll help me, then,” Foggy realizes.

“Time is contradictory by nature, both flowing and immutable. If you do this, you will never return to this time, and you have no guarantee that your presence in the past will make any significant difference in his fate.”

“Yeah,” Foggy agrees softly. “I know. But he’s... This is what I want to do. I’ve already made up my mind.”

Because it’s not that he ‘doesn’t want to live without Matt’ in the suicidal sense — at his core, Foggy just isn’t that sort of guy; even at his lowest, he’s always wanted to live. If this wasn’t an option, Foggy would figure out how to deal with that. But, as things stand, this is an option. It might be a weird one, but Foggy has learned to embrace mystical weirdness wholeheartedly.

“Franklin—“

“C’mon, Doc. It’s fine. I always wanted to be Marty McFly.”

—

This. Isn’t right. Foggy can feel it in his bones, that it isn’t...

He spins in a slow circle, taking in the street around him, and—

Yeah, there.

The Chinese place he and Matt used to love, the one owned by the same family for three generations that they had gone to after finals every semester. It had been crushed during the Chitauri alien attack, and never rebuilt. Situating himself directionally, Foggy moves his gaze upward. But the garish point of Avengers née Stark Tower is nowhere to be seen.

“Ok,” Foggy says, gently, trying very hard not to knock himself off the knife edge of calm he’s feeling. “Ok. So. A little further back than I was thinking.”

—

The newspaper trembles in his hands, pages rustling obnoxiously.

“Hm. Ok. A lot further back than I was thinking.”

Which is bad. Really, really bad, because the plan had been to have Strange help him out with the aftermath — what to do, new identity, the whole shebang. Assuming he survived rushing into danger to save Matt, obviously. Only, Foggy’s about a thousand percent sure that Stephen Strange was not the Sorcerer Supreme — or, in fact, any type of Sorcerer at all — in 1996. So.

—

Which is the point that he realizes why the date is so familiar. How could he not, after spending years watching Matt try to muscle his way through his father’s death alone?

—

“I’ll trade you my watch for your bat,” he offers hastily. “Look, it’s— it’s a really expensive watch, ok, you pawn this and you could get a new bat, but I really need—“

“Yeah, alright,” the kid says, suspicious but holding out his hand for the watch.

Foggy tosses it at him, and the boy drops the bat to catch it before racing off down the street. Foggy grabs the discarded bat and hefts it over his shoulder.

“Yup, this is a terrible idea, Foggy Nelson,” he tells himself.

Not that it’s gonna stop him.

—

“You even think about touching the Murdocks again, and I’ll make you regret it,” Foggy growls, standing over the gunman and pressing the bat to his windpipe — channeling Matt’s intensity as best he can. “You tell your bosses that too.”

“Oh yeah, and you’re gonna make me you fat fu—“

And Foggy’s, you know, just not in the habit of taking that sort of verbal abuse. He gives the guy a nice hard kick in the nuts that has him swearing a blue streak.

“Dickhead.”

There’s a rough sputter of a laugh, then, but it doesn’t come from Foggy or from the goon on the ground. It comes from Jack Murdock, slowly levering up to his feet and swiping blood from his nose and mouth. He spits a glob of worryingly red saliva onto the pavement.

—

“Who are you?” Jack rasps.

He sounds, Foggy thinks with a slight pang, a little like his son after a fight. Well. His chronology’s off, Foggy supposes. Matt after a fight sounds like Jack after a fight. And speaking of chronology... He’s pretty sure telling people his actual name might make the universe implode somehow, but it’s best to give out something he knows he’ll remember to respond to.

“Percival Franklin. You can call me Percy,” Foggy says wryly, offering a hand.

Jack shakes it with a painfully familiar grin dancing at the corners of his bloodied mouth.

“Jack Murdock. But I guess you knew that already, huh.”

“Big fan of your work,” Foggy replies, totally blasé.

And he means the boxing, really he does. After all, though he’s never seen Jack Murdock box in person he’s described enough of the videos to Matt to have a pretty comprehensive understanding of the man’s career. So. Definitely the boxing. He may just also mean the very good genetics Jack passed on to his charming and insufferable vigilante son.

—

“Matty’s a good kid,” Jack says. “Deserves better than... Well. Than to have an old man like me. I’m supposed to be taking care of him, but half the time he’s the one taking care of me.”

“I knew a guy like that once,” Foggy replies quietly, neglecting to mention that the person in question is the same. “Those are the ones you’ve really gotta watch out for, huh? Real tough and independent. But if you look, they need things just like anyone even if they won’t say it. Maybe your son tries so hard to take care of you because he needs you, doesn’t like it when you’re hurt. He deserves to have a dad that loves him, and that’s exactly what he’s got. That’s what I think.”

—

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Foggy tells him.

He’s the one that should be worried. Matt’s just— so little, and Jack, despite his bulk, looks a bit gaunt around the cheekbones. Foggy wants to feed them both and bundle them in blankets, which is a terrible instinct to have when they don’t know him from Adam and all his money is decades in the future. Jack offers a familiar crooked smile that makes Foggy’s heart ache.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t. What you did for me, for my boy... Hell, I can’t pay that back. If you ever need anything...”

Foggy shuffles his feet.

“Well. Uh. If you’re offering... I could really use a place to crash for the night.”

—

A chill creeps up Foggy’s spine. After years with a superhero for a bff, he’s learned to trust his hinky gut feelings, so Foggy’s pretty sure he’s being watched. Unfortunately, the hinky gut feelings do not come with a handy compass pointing him in the direction of whoever’s creeping on him. Which is— unfortunate.

It could easily be a simple mugger, or maybe one of Roscoe Sweeney’s guys. But it might also be one of those freaky-ass Hand ninjas, attracted by the mystical weirdness of Foggy’s time traveling. It could be Stick. Somehow, that feels like the worst option of all. There’s no way he’s going to let that abusive dickhead anywhere near Matty, no way no how. He’ll— he’ll train Matty himself if he has to. Not in the martial arts stuff because that is lightyears beyond Foggy’s self-defense skill set, but... The senses. He can help with those, maybe.

—

Across town, the last of Roscoe Sweeney’s enforcers heads down a dark alley. His intention is to find somewhere to lie low, to wait out his boss’s anger and the cops’ search attempts until he can get out of town.

There’s a loud clang from behind him, and he startles, whirling around to face... Someone. Something. The darkness is too thick to pick out more than a vaguely humanoid shape.

“The— the hell do you want?”

“You went after the father and failed,” the shadowy figure growls, low and menacing. “So you came after the boy. That was a mistake.”

—

“How do you know all this stuff?” Matty demands, his fingers still sliding unerringly across the pages of his book.

For all his scholastic prowess, Foggy has never mastered reading and speaking at the same time. It was always something he’d admired about Matt, and knowing he acquired the skill so young is startling.

“I, I had a friend,” Foggy explains distractedly. “My best friend was like you.”

That makes Matty pause.

“Just like me? Even...?”

He lifts his small hands from the Braille to gesture at his ears. Foggy smiles.

“Yeah. That too. He taught me about the things that helped him.”

—

“You don’t have to be alone,” Matty says stubbornly. “You’ve got us now.”

Foggy tries hard to blink back the tears, presses a hand to his mouth for just a moment as he gulps down the sob caught in his throat.

“Yeah,” he agrees, his voice croaky and weak. “Yeah, I’ve got you now.”

—

Foggy’s never actually met Stick, and it’s not like Matt could have described what he looks like, but when an old blind dude with a perpetual scowl starts cropping up around every corner, well... A person gets Suspicions.

—

Foggy’s breath catches painfully in his chest. It’s been— years now. Foggy’s gotten what few hallucinations of his Matt’s return he was going to have out of his system.

And yet.

A familiar silhouette graces the skyline, crouched on the corner of a roof across the street — and there are two stubby little horns on his head.

Foggy can’t stop the sob building up in his throat, but he presses a hand to his mouth anyway, tries to muffle it.

“Matt...?” he chokes out once he can breathe again.

There’s a slight shift as— as Daredevil tilts his head, and then he darts away over the rooftops.

#mattfoggy #mattfoggyweek #writing #daredevil

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sembell · 7 years ago

Text

Moving Forward - Chapter 54

It’s been some time, but the longer the wait the longer the chapter, I guess?! Thank you guys so much for your patience, your encouraging words and your constructive feedback! I still love writing this story as a way to escape into an alternate reality that, as of now, makes me feel so much better than the actual reality (whatever that is :P) The title of this chapter is based on my very first encounter with Gillian at the Toulouse Game Show in 2015, when I was standing in front of her, ready to get my poster signed. Her phone buzzed, she looked at it and went “Oh shit! Just a second, sorry!” and then typed something. Who knows what happened there, but this is what I made out of it for the MF-universe :)

NC-17 warning!

“Oh shit! Just a second, sorry!” Gillian Anderson

September, and with it the end of filming, came around much faster than expected.

Parting ways had always been difficult, but incredibly hard after spending three and a half months together - as a family.

A few days after wrapping, David and Gillian found themselves, once again, on completely different continents, thousands of miles apart from each other. When he’d started to film the second season of Aquarius in Los Angeles, Gillian had flown out to Nepal with Piper and her sister to shed Aaron’s ashes. Right after their short and highly emotional trip, she traveled to India to shoot her new movie Viceroy’s House.

The weeks went by excruciatingly slow, even though their days were always busy and packed with an enormous workload.

By the middle of October, she was still shooting the movie in Jodhpur while David found himself at the New York Comic Con with Mitch and Chris, starting the promotion of their six-episode-event-series.

Although she couldn’t be with them, she had sent a video of her sitting by the pool, sounding somewhat like Lady Mountbatten and making a teasing comment about one of the pool boys. David grinned to himself as the audience cheered, remembering all those hours they’d watched documentaries and recorded her voice during breaks, and how much they’d laughed over her weird accent.

They’d started the panel with screening the first episode, and the rest of it went smooth and enjoyable, mostly due to Kumail, whose love and excitement for the show was basically endless.

At some point, right in the middle of an audience’s question, David’s phone buzzed on his upper thigh. With a quick glance down, he saw that Gillian had tweeted something.

Lying in bed in Jodhpur watching live NYCC panel. Miss you guys. Especially one of you.

He pursed his lips and read it again.

Especially one of you.

And then again.

Suddenly, Chris had started to talk again, and David raised his head abruptly, his eyes wandering over the audience. He had no idea what the question was, but it was answered quickly, and Mitch was talking again. And that was basically the rest of the panel for David. He just wasn’t able to concentrate anymore, especially since his phone kept on buzzing with new messages coming from his little tease over in India.

“She just texted me about my flow,” David said bashfully as he followed Mitch off the stage. The panel had just ended, and they were already on their way back to the media area where they were supposed to give a couple of interviews.

Mitch chuckled, turned around and gave David a pat on the back. “Did she watch us live?”

“Yeah, she did.”

“What does she think about your flow?”

“She says it’s flowing just fine, she’s still turned on by the way I handle my chunky monologues,” David answered, and they both fell into hearty laughter.

There was another message that he’d received during the panel, which he didn’t show Mitch, that said:

> Is that handsome dude on my screen really my boyfriend? I miss him terribly <

She knew exactly how to sweeten him up.

> I thought he’s right there with you, providing cold drinks and fresh fruit? <

A couple of seconds later, she started to type, and it didn’t take long for another text to pop up:

> :P - I wish! Y’all looked fantastic though. I’m so sad I couldn’t be there and watch the episode! Is it any good? <

> It’s good, the audience liked it. <, he replied and began to chew on the inside of his cheek as a new wave of longing came over him.

Right then, he couldn’t have cared less about the episode. All he could think of was kissing her in that pool by her hotel, running his nose over her cute little freckles and smelling her delicious, sunkissed skin.

Yes, he was desperate. And who could really blame him after all those weeks without her? Though admittedly, it had started to become fun to play with all the possibilities they had nowadays to stay in contact and feel somewhat close. David especially had become a big fan of those little sexting games she would constantly come up with. He certainly couldn’t imagine his life without being able to play “Queen of the day” with her anymore.

Unfortunately, nothing was even remotely close to what it felt like to have her in his arms, kiss her beautiful lips and tell her he loved her while looking into her deep blue eyes.

A couple of weeks later, David landed at London Heathrow Airport on a gloomy Friday afternoon, tired to the bones and aching from a long week on set.

He had been looking forward to their first weekend together in what felt like forever, at least up until last Tuesday, when he received a call from a very angry, but also abashed Gillian, telling him that the convention she would attend this weekend wasn’t actually taking place in Paris, as she assumed it would, but in a little French town called Toulouse, which was basically in the middle of nowhere.

All their plans for a nice, long weekend together with the kids, visiting the Eiffel Tower, climbing the stairs of the Basilica du Sacre-Coeur de Montmartre up to the top, or eating years worth of crêpes and baguettes had died in a matter of seconds.

Instead, David decided to spend the weekend at home with the kids, not really keen to drag them out to a cold, snowy Toulouse, no matter how nice and interesting it might’ve been. With so many geeks in one small city, chances were they wouldn’t be able to have a very good time after all.

It was already dark when he arrived at Gillian’s house, and Erin, the kids’ nanny, was all set to leave for a romantic weekend with her boyfriend in a nice little cabin somewhere on the coast. David couldn’t possibly envy her more, even though he was starting to look forward to having some fun with the kids alone.

Over the last couple of months, it had become somewhat of a tradition that whenever he had Gillian’s kids for himself, he’d take them to places that served American food. The good, greasy and overly sweet stuff that the boys didn’t get too often, but of course loved tremendously. He’d lie if he said that he didn’t enjoy spoiling them - they were awesome boys, and they had a good relationship even without buffalo wings, chicken with waffles or s’mores, but he loved having a good time with them and seeing them happy and relaxed around him. And whenever he’d been away for a longer period of time, it was an easy way to skip the awkward first couple of hours to warm up to each other again.

They took the tube to a nice little place near St. Paul’s Cathedral and had a wonderful dinner before driving back home and taking Nelson for a long walk around the neighborhood.

The dog had become everything David had hoped he would when he gave him to Gillian - a wonderful, beloved buddy for her active young boys. Both Oscar and Felix were very dedicated to Nelson, and it was a delight to watch how much fun they were having together, but also seeing how much responsibility the boys had taken for the little guy.

When David had settled Eaden for the night, the boys showed him their new sports game on the Nintendo Wii, and they ended up playing tennis and golf way past midnight, having so much fun that David even forgot to call Gillian before she fell asleep in her hotel in Toulouse.

On Saturday, the four of them went to an indoor playground right after breakfast, and David spent the better part of his day counting heads, carrying Eaden back to the toddler area, which she was constantly sneaking away from to jump around with the big kids, and handing out snacks and drinks.

Around midday, he started to receive some hilarious text messages from an incredulous Gillian, asking him how anyone in their right mind could possibly confuse Toulouse with Paris and complain that she was freezing her ass off in the hall she was sitting in before she eventually sent him a picture of a squat toilet, labeling it “Welcome in Europe 2015”.

While David had a good laugh over it, he also felt for her. She deserved a weekend to relax, yet she was out there making other people’s dreams come true. He couldn’t admire her more right now.

Gillian was back at her signing table after the first round of photo op’s around 2 pm, frozen to the bone and overwhelmed by the number of people still waiting in line to see her.

It was fun though, really. She’d grown to like these conventions despite her fear of crowds and her aversion to public speaking.

Her fans were crazy, but most of them were very nice, lovely people, and knowing she could make them very happy by just being there and taking a moment to talk to them was bringing her an immense amount of joy as well.

Her phone buzzed beside her, and she only meant to take a quick glance at it, but the first three words immediately caught her full attention and set her on alert. It was a message from David, one that didn’t start very good.

“Oh shit,” Gillian exclaimed, taking her phone and looking at the young woman standing in front of her. “Just a second, sorry!” Gillian said with an apologetic smile and unlocked the screen before reading the entire text:

> Rufus is missing. I can’t find him anywhere. Erin said Eadie didn’t have him for her nap either. Do you remember seeing him around somewhere? <

And that was when the nightmare started.

Gillian hopped into the waiting limousine to leave the convention center by 7:30 pm, much later than she’d anticipated since she spent another hour at her table, meeting even the last person who hadn't gotten the chance to see her earlier today.

The rest of the day had been so busy that she didn’t get the chance to write David anymore, and his messages had piled up by now.

His immediate reply to her suggestions where the bunny might’ve been was:

> No, he’s not in the car and not under our bed, or any bed for that matter. Please come up with something a little bit more helpful. I’m running out of options here. <

There were four more rather desperate ones before she reached the last one:

> I can’t find it. I looked absolutely EVERYWHERE! <

Gillian inhaled sharply and turned her head to look out of the window as they were passing the crowds on their way home, or to the next bar.

It was raining again, or snowing, she couldn’t really tell. The cold and cloudy weather in the past couple of weeks was starting to get to her mood and overall well-being. As if only the sun could recharge her batteries. Maybe a nice long bubble bath back at the hotel and a decent sized burger with fries and a milkshake on the side would do the trick, too, Gillian thought, smiling to herself. Boy, she really wasn’t looking forward to making a call home and face the reality that her one-year-old’s heart was probably broken into a million pieces.

With an exasperated sigh, Gillian dialed David’s number and raised her phone to her ear. Better get it over with right away, she thought.

He picked up on the fourth ring.

“Hey, stranger. You're done with your day?”

Gillian smiled. “Hello, yourself. Yep, I'm completely done. Done, done, done in every possible way. My brain is just… mush.”

“I bet it is,” David said with a chuckle. “Lots of people, huh?”

“You have no idea. But now tell me what’s going on! How is she?”

“A-s-l-e-e-p,” he spelled, especially emphasizing the ‘p’ at the end, sounding both relieved and tired.

“Oh, wow,” Gillian said in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yeah, me neither. But she basically cried herself to sleep on the couch while I was trying to make dinner. I guess it was an exhausting day for all of us, and now she’s lying half on top of Nelson - who’s also on the couch, I’m very sorry - clutching one of your hoodies to her face.”

“Oh no, poor girl,” Gillian said ruefully. The bunny had been on top of her mind since David’s first message, and she couldn’t really remember when she’d seen him the last time. On Friday morning when she’d gotten the baby ready for the day? Did Eaden have him in the car during their school run? Or… did they bring him to get a couple of groceries and actually lost him while strolling through Brick Lane Market? Which was, undoubtedly, the worst case scenario.

“Yeah, it’s sad,” David said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “She just doesn’t understand it.”

“Fuck, David. I feel so guilty. It’s all my fault.”

“No, Gillian. Things like that just happen.”

“Have you ever lost the favorite stuffed animal?”

“Well, no. But we’ve lost a bunch over the years…”

“Yeah, the ones that are forgotten the next day. But you usually don’t lose the favorite one because you never bring it with you when you leave the house. That’s the number one rule every parent knows… and usually follows.”

“Maybe we’ll find him again. I will keep looking, okay? Don’t lose any sleep over it, babe.”

“Maybe I should go out for a drink with David and Nicholas after all,” Gillian mused, referring to the American actors that had also attended the convention with her.

“Yeah, at least one of us should have fun,” he said with a light chuckle.

“I’m so sorry, David. I know this wasn’t what you were expecting from this weekend. Are the boys good for you at least?”

“They’re awesome. One of them was always with Eaden or looking for the bunny. They took off to play upstairs an hour ago when the crying got really bad, which I can’t blame them for, to be honest. I think they’re hungry and waiting for dinner now, so…”

“Oh, okay. What are you making?”

“Baked mashed potatoes.”

“Um, okay. Sounds… interesting.”

“Easy and… basically ready to serve. I gotta go, babe. I love you, you know?”

Gillian smiled as heat rose to her cheeks. “I love you, too. Very much.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Finally.”

“Yes, finally. Good night, Gillian.’

“Good night, David. Please give the kids a kiss from me, okay?”

Rufus hadn't miraculously resurfaced by the next day, which pretty much sealed the deal for David that Eaden’s favorite stuffed bunny had in fact gotten lost in the streets.

After lunch, which the baby had refused to eat even though it had been pizza, David found her in the library rummaging through one of the bookshelves.

She didn’t even look up when he kneeled down beside her. “What are you doing, slugger? Are you redecorating Mommy’s books?” he asked, running his hand over her back.

It was only when she turned her head that he saw the tears running down her cheeks again.

“Ufus!” Eaden sobbed, her bottom lip stuck out so far that a bird could have perched on it.

“Oh honey,” David sighed. How often could his heart actually break for this little girl? She was looking at him as though he was the only one who’d be able to make everything okay again. There were so much hope and expectation in those piercing blue eyes. How he wished he could take away her pain. Or at least be able to explain what was going on.

Thankfully, she fell asleep in his arms after he’d picked her up and laid down on the couch with her.

But it was barely an hour later that Eaden couldn’t be soothed anymore.

David was leaning against the kitchen island with a screaming, wiggling Eaden in his arms when he heard the front door being closed and someone in heels walking through the hallway.

He had a tight hold on Eaden’s little feet as Oscar was standing right in front of him, looking up at his sister with worried eyes while he was gently stroking her arm.

Felix was sitting on the couch, holding his ears while staring at David’s iPad.

Oh boy, Gillian thought as she caught the first sight of them. It was worse than she’d expected.

Putting her bags down, she gave David a weary look as she approached them, but could see a hint of relief crossing his own features.

“Hey, you guys. What’s the matter here?”

“Mum!” Oscar exclaimed and ran into her arms, embracing her waist. “We weren’t able to find the bunny.”

“Mummy, she won’t stop screaming and we looked everywhere!” Felix complained from his position on the couch, not even attempting to get up and give her a hug.

“Yeah, we did! We thought Nelson might have taken it, but it’s nowhere in the house! She must’ve lost it somewhere outside.”

“Oh dear,” Gillian sighed and ran her fingers through Oscars hair before leaning over to give him a kiss. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Nope,” Felix stated, cringing as Eaden let out another loud wail and plugging his fingers back into his ears.

“Hey, baby girl,” Gillian cooed and walked towards David and Eaden with Oscar following her closely. With four fingers of her right hand stuck in her mouth, she was clutching David’s neck with the other, and her head was resting against his shoulder as though she’d literally no energy left in her to hold it up herself.

“Look! Mommy’s home, baby. Everything’s alright now,” David whispered, gently bouncing her up and down.

Gillian snorted and started to rub Eaden’s back to get her attention. She seemed to be completely out of things, and her whole body heaved with convulsive sobs, each one wracking her harder than the last. It sounded pretty much like she was choking.

Her normally bright, sparkling blue eyes looked glassy, and the white in them had turned into a bright pink. Only her cheeks were redder than her eyes.

Gillian felt her daughter’s forehead with the back of her hand, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“She’s hot.”

“Yeah, she’s been crying and screaming on and off for hours now. She didn’t eat anything at all and only managed to take a couple of sips of tea here and there,” David said, worry and remorse evident in his voice.

“M-hm, it’s hard to make her drink anything when she’s so upset,” Gillian squeezed his arm reassuringly.

He managed a weak smile before asking, “You want to hold her for a bit?”

“Yes. Just let me change into something clean and comfy, okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded and put his hand on her upper arm as she was attempting to walk away, pulling gently. “Hey,” he whispered, his smile soft but tired.

She raised her arm and stroked his stubbled cheek before putting her fingers around his neck and pulling him down for a chaste kiss. “Hey,” she whispered as she pulled back. She’d pictured their first kiss after weeks a little bit differently. “Hang in there, I’ll be right back.”

The crying got worse again once she’d left the room to head upstairs, and it resonated even up to her bedroom. Gillian could count on ten fingers the times she’d heard one of her kids crying like this, and it had mostly been Eaden with her newborn colics. The memories of spending hours walking around and bouncing her to ease the physical pain were still very vivid. But how on earth was she supposed to help her one-year-old with her emotional struggles?

Gillian sighed as she quickly undressed and walked into the bathroom to wash her face. No matter how many kids one had, parenthood would always be a challenge, and it would never be simple.

She came back to David pouring what she guessed was fennel tea, Eaden’s favorite, into a sippy cup while their daughter was now sobbing directly into his shoulder. They always made a whole can in the mornings and let it cool down. Gillian hated it, couldn’t even stand the smell anymore, but Eaden was chugging it down like crazy. On a normal day, at least. She really hoped Eaden would take it.

She went over to Felix first, who had been joined on the couch by Oscar, to make a point and give him a kiss hello. He smiled at her bashfully when she ruffled his hair before finally pulling her down for a bear hug. No matter if she was gone for a weekend or a couple of weeks, they always seemed happy and grateful when they had her back, and in need of a lot of cuddles. She hoped she’d get the chance to spend some quality time with both of them before she had to fly out to Belfast on Tuesday.

“Hey sweetheart, look what Daddy made you! Your favorite tea!” Gillian tried to sound as excited as possible when she stepped beside David, who let out a frustrated sigh while trying to screw the lid with one hand.

She gently put her hand over his, gave it a reassuring squeeze and took the cup to close it.

“Eaden, Mommy is here now. Have you seen her?” David murmured, gently trying to loosen her tight grip on him so she would at least take a look. He still couldn’t believe how hard it actually was to peel a tiny, clinging toddler off of you. “Eaden, please,” he begged, and Gillian could tell that he was giving everything not to sound annoyed or harsh. It must’ve been a horrible weekend for him, especially after not seeing them for such a long time.

“Okay,” Gillian nodded, put the cup on the counter and started to take the baby away from him.

She was holding on for dear life, pulling at his shirt and stretching it as far as possible before he finally got to open her fingers around the fabric, and she let go.

Gillian had just turned her around and settled her on her hip to take a look at her when Eaden broke into full-blown bawl, arched her back and suddenly threw herself backward so forcefully that if David hadn’t been there to catch her, Gillian would’ve dropped her.

“Jesus Christ,” Gillian breathed in utter shock, her heart now beating rapidly in her chest. Eaden’s cries once again intensifying.

David nodded, running his large hand over Eaden’s small back while Gillian was holding her tightly, even though she was squirming in her mother’s arms.

“It’s alright baby,” Gillian tearfully choked out. She felt horrible. Eaden had never resented her like that before, and it stung.

If she only had been there for her over the last two days.

She looked up to meet David’s eyes. “Do you think it might help if I retreat into the library and lay down with her?” Gillian asked, cradling her daughter’s head in her palm and bouncing her gently.

“Yeah, you do that,” David said softly and leaned forward to kiss her forehead before handing her the sippy cup. “I’ll be out here if you need me, okay?”

“Yeah. Thank you,” she whispered, hoping he knew how grateful she was for everything he was doing for her. Flying over for the weekend to watch her two boys, their daughter and the dog all by himself was more than she was expecting from him, especially since she didn’t even have to ask.

He found them peacefully lying in the raffia glider a while later. The library was one of his favorite rooms in her house. It was peaceful and comfortable, and he loved to come in here, browse her bookshelves and lay down with a book that caught his interest. David even had a shelf for his own books in here, and sometimes, he’d find a book in it that she’d bought him, one she thought he would like, or one she just really wanted him to read.

Eaden was slumped against Gillian with her head resting on her mother's chest, her little body still shaking with an occasional sob. With one hand, she was fingering a few tendrils of her mother’s hair that had escaped out of her ponytail. The other one was holding onto Gillian’s shirt.

“Hey, it’s so quiet in here,” he said with a soft smile and let himself slump down onto the blue sofa beside them.

“Yeah, finally,” Gillian said, her voice just above a whisper, and looked at her little girl.

Eaden had stopped drinking, but Gillian was pleased that she’d managed to drink at least half of the cup. Her eyes were still open, but she was staring at nothing in particular, her little fingers absently playing with the collar of her black shirt before disappearing underneath it again.

Gillian sighed. It was so tempting to give in, to go 10 steps back, ruin everything they’d worked for over the last eight weeks and just let her nurse, even if it was just for comfort’s sake.

“Babe, don’t,” David said quietly as if he’d read her mind, his eyes warm and full of affection. “I know what you’re thinking, but it won’t help her, or you, in any way.”

Gillian nodded and buried her nose in her daughter’s soft blonde hair. He was right, of course; the whole process was a nightmare she didn’t want to start over again. She couldn’t do that to Eaden, or to herself.

For Gillian, it was an emotional rollercoaster of unknown dimensions. Some days, she thought she was experiencing something similar to postpartum depression. She had to excuse herself from meetings or during filming to cry in private multiple times in the last couple of weeks. Had found herself on the verge of a panic attack every Monday morning when she was about to leave for Belfast, or felt completely unable to get up in the mornings and go to set.

On other days, she was incredibly relieved that she didn’t have to offer her body to a little person every waking hour of the day, or night, anymore. While she loved being close to the kids and loved providing the physical comfort each child needed, there was definitely a certain point when she started to feel very anxious, claustrophobic and protective of her own body.

One night back in the beginning of September, she’d broken down into tears after another day of tugging, fumbling, holding, carrying and rocking a cranky toddler, just to be used as a human pacifier at bedtime, and hours beyond.

Just the thought of having to hug or kiss David, or give herself out to anyone else on top of that made her heart race and her stomach clench. She was feeling incredibly overwhelmed and irritable pretty much all the time. Touched out, as some were calling it. And she found that this description was pretty fitting to what she had been feeling over weeks.

When Gillian had finally come to the conclusion that she couldn’t carry on like this, David met her with an immense amount of sympathy and appreciation. He’d been the one encouraging her to make whatever changes she had to in order for her to be able to take and do whatever she needed to remain happy and healthy. In the end, Gillian was quite surprised to find out just how invaluable her intimacy with David and the sheer feeling of being a desirable human being was to her sanity after all. And that by regaining some of her emotional and personal space, she quickly became much more relaxed and approachable again.

For Eaden, it seemed to have similar effects. She appeared to be much more independent and mature all of a sudden, boldly exploring her surroundings without looking back in search for Gillian quite that often anymore. But she was struggling to accept all the other ways to be close to her mother as the new and sole sources for comfort and security, and that nursing wasn’t one of them anymore.

She simply didn’t understand what was going on, and her coping strategies varied from crying for Gillian at night, throwing tantrums and downright begging to very creative attempts to change her mother’s mind, like pulling coy and funny faces, or even offering Rufus Gillian’s ‘na-na’s’. “Omise na-na Ufus, Mommy,” she would say, probably thinking that her mother was too polite to say no to Rufus when he’d already been promised something.

The look of rejection on her child’s face was unbearable though, as was having to say “No” over and over again, no matter how sweetly Eaden was looking at her. Or how heartbroken she was over the loss of her favorite stuffed animal.

“She probably thinks we keep punishing her, David. And of course, she has no idea why we’d do that.”

Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t argue with that. It did indeed feel like they were pulling the safe ground they’d tried to build over the last two years right from underneath their child's’ little feet.

Nothing had ever been really easy with Eaden. Maybe it was because of their own, rather advanced age for being the parents of a baby, or the fact that she was definitely their last child, but both him and Gillian were incredibly attached to this kid.

David only knew that guilt was playing a big part for himself. Not only that they weren’t living together and working all over the world, therefore dragging the little one from one place to another, but because their daughter had two parents who would probably not be able to be by her side for the bigger part of her life. He could be extremely grateful if he’d make it to her thirties. And that… didn’t feel really good.

Being aware of that, they were working hard on providing her with a secure, nurturing environment and making sure she always felt safe and loved.

Right now though, it seemed like they were failing miserably. Or maybe, he thought as he was looking at them, it was just him who was failing his daughter, and Gillian, by constantly being away from them.

“You’re a terrific mother, Gillian. I know I don’t say it enough, but I’m constantly amazed how you handle all of this; four kids with completely different needs and expectations. Mostly by yourself.”

Gillian gave him a warm, lopsided smile and shook her head slowly. “I’m not by myself.”

“I-, I know you don’t see it that way… with Erin being around and the boys spending half the time with Mark. But when it comes down to it, it’s your opinion and your decision that counts. You are the mother and you know all of them better than anyone else.”

“David,” she said and held out her hand. He reached up immediately and took it in his. “I couldn’t be the mother I am, or trying to be, without you. I’m thankful every day that the three of you are the best father’s I could’ve possibly chosen. But this,” she made a circle like motion with her head, “is only possible because of you and me together. We haven’t seen each other in what, six weeks? And you come here, all the way from LA, knowing I won’t be here most of the time, just to watch the kids. Not just our kid, but mine as well.”

“That’s the least I could do after you’ve watched them for six weeks,” he stated.

“It’s only about being able to rely on each other. I have your back and you have mine, right?”

Right, he thought. Just sometimes, he felt like it wasn’t enough.

Eaden let out a soft whimper and turned her head, searching for David. “Daddy,” she murmured, extending her left arm towards him.

“Yeah, baby,” he said and let her wrap her tiny hand around his thumb before he closed his fingers completely around it. “Daddy’s here.”

The tiniest hint of a smile played on her lips as she borrowed her face deep between Gillian’s breasts and let out a content sigh.

“Come here,” David said softly, holding Gillian’s hand while she was climbing into the tub to join him, hissing when her heel met the water. “Careful.”

“It’s hot,” she said, squeezing his hand tighter.

He raised his right eyebrow and gave her an amused smile. “Hot? I’m sitting in here, it can’t be that hot for you.”

“I told you, I’m frozen to the bones. It probably feels hotter than it actually is.”

“Alright, take your time,” David nodded, putting his hands on her hips as she slowly climbed in.

When she was finally standing between his legs, he let his hands fall down to her upper thighs and leaned forward, placing soft a kiss against the mole on her right butt cheek before gently biting into her flesh, just where her ass met her thigh.

Gillian giggled and braced her arms on the edges of the tub to ease her body into the warm water. Once the bubbles had covered her breasts and his arms had come around her middle, she let out a satisfied moan and leaned back against his chest.

It was almost 8 pm now and all three kids were asleep. After getting Eaden to eat a couple of bites of the leftover mashed potatoes for dinner, Gillian gave her daughter a quick bath and rocked her to sleep before tucking her into her crib, not leaving until she was sure the little one wouldn’t wake the second she left the room.

The boys had been patiently waiting for her on Oscar’s bunk bed to tell her everything about their weekend with David. There was a brand new Star Wars Lego-set they’d started to build in the middle of the room, and they proudly showed her the letters they’d received from their teachers to inform their parents about their impeccable behavior in class in the last couple of weeks. The Lego-set, so they explained, was David’s reward for them. Gillian could barely contain the amused grin the entire time they were talking. David really was… something else. The relationship he had built with Oscar and Felix was a fascinating one. There was a great deal of respect, curiosity, friendship and lately, probably since Vancouver, she really thought she could see love between them, too. Something very similar to the love between a parent and a child, still developing its roots, but very beautiful to witness. Something Gillian had never dared to hope for it to happen.

She laid with the boys for a while, listening and cuddling before giving them both kisses and hugs good night, turning off the lights and leaving their room to search for David.

She found him in the master bathroom, already sitting in a bubble bath between a sea of lit candles. She felt like crying of gratitude for this sweet man.

“Feels good?” David asked softly.

“Hmm, feels like heaven. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Yes, me too.”

“By the way, I stumbled upon that… huuuge Lego walker-thingy in the boys’ room.”

“Oh?” David chuckled almost nervously. “Am I in trouble?”

Gillian laughed. “No, of course not. It looks extremely expensive, though.”

David shrugged, cupped a handful of water in his palm and let it run down her upper arm. She smiled and leaned further back, resting her head beside his.

“Boy, I need a vacation. A very long one.”

“Hmm,” he nuzzled her cheek with his nose. “What are you thinking of?”

“I think of multiple things.”

“Of course you do,” David chuckled and brought his index finger up to her nose, placing a tiny bubble of soap on its tip.

“Hey!" she giggled girlishly and wiped her nose before giving him a chaste kiss.

"What are you thinking of?" he eventually asked, absently caressing her forearms with his thumbs.

"Hmm, a private rooftop or balcony pool from where you can see a beautiful, white beach.”

“Oh,” he nodded approvingly. “That sounds promising indeed.”

“A big bed.”

“One with enough space for all our children?”

“No!” she nudged him playfully in the side. “No kids.”

“No kids?”

“No. At least not the entire time. The big bed would be ours alone. Enough space to eat a big breakfast and read the papers in the mornings. Or for all the food I’d order from room service in the middle of the night while we’re all sprawled out, watching Trash TV. Or-”

“Or?”

“I don’t know… what else can you do in such a big bed with no kids around?”

David shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea. It’s not like I’m used to having a big bed just for the two of us anymore.” God, he wasn’t even used to the way she felt in his arms anymore. Had she ever been this tiny?

“Yeah, true. Hmm, maybe we’ll think of something once we’re there.”

“So this is the beach vacation somewhere nice and warm?”

“It is, yes.”

“Maldives, maybe? One week with the kids and then another… for us? Just you and me, a private little house on the ocean with a balcony pool. You completely naked the majority of the time…” he said dreamily, and she started to giggle.

“Sounds so heavenly, can’t we go now?”

“That would be something, wouldn’t it?” he nodded.

“Seriously, David,” Gillian said and turned her head so that she could look into his eyes. “I can’t go that long without seeing you anymore. It’s… getting harder and harder every time. And it’s just that… sometimes, I feel like…” she paused, pondering her next words while stroking his forearm with her thumb absently, “...not that we’re neglecting our relationship per se, but that it… gets lost in the shuffle, sometimes. Often. You know, with work, and the kids, which is completely normal, but… I wish we’d have more time for ourselves. To do adult things…”

“Oh,” he said appreciatively and waggled his eyebrows, making her snort before she went serious again.

“Yes, those things, and just… explore places without pushing a stroller or without having to stop at every other ice cream stand. Go to museums, meditate together, spend a night in town, just,” she sighed, “we don’t necessarily have to do all those things, but it would be nice to at least have the time that we could if we wanted.”

“I know what you mean,” he nodded.

“But it’s mostly just the... mundane things that I miss the most. Like sharing a meal in the evenings, or going to bed together. Not having to sleep alone…”

“Yeah. I miss that, too,” he said with a sigh and rested his chin on her shoulder.

At least they were happy, that was what he was thinking when he was lying in bed alone on one of those many lonely nights these days. He felt whole knowing he was hers, and she was his, no matter where they were.

“So,” David said, “about the vacation…”

“Mh-hm,” Gillian hummed.

“Is it a good thing that I… booked us a weekend in Budapest in March? Just for the two of us?”

Gillian opened her eyes and blinked before looking back at him, surprise written all over her face. “What? Are you serious?”

David chuckled. “I am, yes. Being the only one who has full access to your schedule certainly has its perks when it comes to making a surprise perfect.”

“Oh my god, I love Budapest! I will show you all the beautiful sights! And I will give my friend Zoltan a call, who has a nice little restaurant there, and ask him if he cooks us the best Hungarian food you’ll find on this planet before we’ll head to the coolest bars you’ve ever been to! And because we also need some time to relax, we will go to one of their famous baths!”

“I love when you’re so excited. It’s adorable.”

“That’s really nice of you, David. I always wanted to do a city trip with you. And I would love to go on a nice shopping tour again. Budapest is great for shopping,” she nodded with enthusiasm, but then seemed to reconsider.”Although I can’t do that with you.”

“Why not? Didn’t you say that I’m a very patient shopping companion the last time we went together?”

“I did. But I can’t blink twice and the cashier already has your credit card in their hand,” she smirked at him.

“And? Correct me if I’m wrong, but you would’ve made it clear if you didn’t like a little bit of spoiling every now and then,” David winked and leaned in for a kiss.

“Hmm,” Gillian hummed approvingly.

“Am I right?” he prompted, his breath brushing against her neck.

“Mhh, yeah, you are. The apples don’t fall far from the tree, you know?” Gillian tilted her head to the side to give him better access to her skin.

“So I’ve heard,” he murmured, teasing her with delicate kisses so faint she didn’t dare to breathe, too afraid to miss a single one of them.His hands had started to roam over the flatness of her belly, fingertips tickling the sensitive skin between her breasts up her neck, and eventually drawing little circles right under her ear.

The simplest touches of his hands had the power to make her squirm like a cat in heat, unable to ignore her bodies basic needs. To be touched. To be loved.

They were lying there silently beside the occasional giggles while washing each other until the water started to turn too cold for her liking.

David knew that she could lie there for hours, refilling the tub with hot water every now and then, but he had something different in mind. It didn’t take a lot of convincing to make her get up and let him rinse both of them off before wrapping her in a big, fluffy towel.

He’d barely gotten a chance to dry himself off and she was impatiently pulling him back into the bedroom by his hand, her own towel left behind on the bathroom floor.

She fell back onto the mattress and pulled him on top of her, both giggling like two young people who’d just fallen in love with each other. Yet they were doing this for almost 25 years.

Languid kisses quickly turned into something more serious. Hands were roaming and hips grinding against each other for a little bit of relief. Their bodies were still warm and soft from their bath, and the sensation of skin to skin was unbelievably arousing.

Their breaths were coming in shorts pants when David broke away from Gillian and gently moved her into the middle of the bed, making sure that her head was comfortably propped up on a bunch of pillows before kissing his way down, caressing very scar and stretch mark on her perfect little body. There really wasn’t anything not beautiful about her.

He had just placed a couple of kisses on her pubis and outer lips when Gillian moaned out loud, and he quickly looked up from between her legs, surprised by her strong reaction. He hadn’t even come close her clit yet her back was arched and he already needed to shush her.

“Shh, not so loud,” he whispered, caressing her tummy with his flat palm, his smile giddy and reaching up to his eyes.

“David,” she said in a half warning, half desperate voice, glaring down at him. “It’s been six weeks with only my own fingers down there. I will scream this place down if you don’t continue, and nobody wants that to happen, right?”

“What about screaming it down because I’m continuing?” he teased, but earned nothing but a blank stare, telling him that she wasn’t in the mood for his jokes anymore.

He continued easy on her, his thumbs caressing her inner thighs, nuzzling her slit with his nose while kissing and licking the soft space between her pussy and her ass. She was dripping wet already, her hips softly rotating.

Her face was still relaxed, though. Eyes closed, cheeks flushed, bottom lip lightly tucked between her teeth. It was rare that she was so content and comfortable, only concentrating on the sensation of his touch, and he loved seeing her like that.

When she put her left foot flat on the mattress beside his shoulder, basically opening up for him, he knew the teasing was over, and she needed more.

The second loud moan didn’t come as unexpected as the first, but David had to retain himself from looking back and check if she’d closed the door earlier. She probably had. At least he hoped so.

As if she could read his mind, or maybe it was his slackened tongue that had given him away, she reached down and tangled her fingers in his hair.

“Relax. The door is locked,” she murmured, licking her lips in anticipation of what was coming next.

David rested his cheek against her inner thigh and glanced at her beautiful, open pussy right before him. It was sensory overload - the pink, glistening flesh with the perfect little nub poking out of the middle and that divine, feminine smell of hers.

She had never been shy about this particular part of her body, while there were others, much less private ones, that she didn’t feel entirely comfortable with, and wouldn’t let him look at for too long. It was a miracle that she’d let him get away with kissing her ass.

Her hand suddenly came in his vision, the index finger stroking his cheek a few times before she ran it through her folds.

“Whenever I did this, when I touched myself, and made myself come, I was thinking about you, and those long, skilled fingers of yours,” Gillian said, her voice low and sultry.

David swallowed, pressing his hips into the mattress. His cock was hard as a rock. Almost painfully so.

“About your lips on my clit. Or just about you… fucking me.”

“How?” David coaxed out, watching two of her fingers disappearing into her wetness. “How did I fuck you?”

“Hard. You fucked me hard, David. Like you did in that tent on the last day of shooting. You remember that, right?” she asked, pressing herself against her palm.

How could he possibly forget that? It had been a tent with no solid walls in the middle of the set. Everyone could’ve walked in at any given time.

“I remember,” David nodded thoughtfully. What a great memory it was. “You weren’t able to keep your voice down back then either.”

“Hmm. What can I say,” Gillian said, pulling her fingers out and resting them on his bottom lip. With a growl, he opened his mouth and welcomed them in. “You do this to me.”

“Hmm,” he hummed around her fingers, swirling his tongue around them.

“Were you planning on fucking me tonight?”

David huffed, pushed her hand aside and leaned down and sucked her clit between his lips.

“You bet I was,” he murmured against her hot flesh. “Fuck babe, when I’m done with you, you won’t be able to walk for the rest of the week,” David added and dove in for good, sucking as much of her tender flesh into his mouth as possible, rubbing her clit with the flat of his tongue.

She’d braced herself on her elbows, watching him with a smug expression on her flushed face, and it was the hottest thing on earth. She was a demanding lover with very high expectations; a woman who knew exactly what she needed, and how to get it. When you got her looking at you like that…

“Oh fuu-huck,” Gillian moaned and threw her head back, nails digging into the mattress, bunching the sheet between her fingers.

… or moaning for you like that, you could consider yourself the luckiest guy on earth. Because this was… mind altering. Unbelievably fucking sexy.

His erection felt hot and gigantic between his pelvis and the mattress, pulsating with each heartbeat. He couldn’t help himself but grind it against the soft sheet, again and again, probably leaving one hell of a wet spot there.

Her hips bucked up against him, and he felt a new rush of her hot wetness on his lips that he greedily lapped up.

“Hmm,” David hummed, watching her in wonder.

A single strand of hair was now sticking on one side of her face, and he could see a soft layer of sweat glistening on her forehead. She was licking her lips, biting them, pouting, opening her mouth only to press her lips together a couple of seconds later, then opening it again for a low moan. There was so much happening on her face at once, he just couldn’t look away. With every lick and every suck, her expression changed.

Eventually, she opened her eyes again and met his gaze.

“So close,” he whispered. It wasn’t a question. “So beautiful.”

At the same time as she reached down, David reached up and took her hand in his, giving it a light squeeze and put both of their hands down beside her hip.

His other hand snuck under her thigh and lifted her leg over his shoulder and onto his back, surrounding himself with her almost completely before putting his mouth back on her pussy, gently nibbling and licking, building the tension once again.

Her chest heaved as she struggled to control her breathing. She squeezed her thighs around his head and lifted her hips, hoping he would get the cue.

He didn’t disappoint. Of course not.

His free hand snuck between her legs, and she could feel his thumb entering her as the rest of his hand came to a rest between her butt cheeks.

“Oh god,” Gillian whimpered as he started to draw his middle finger around her anus with gentle pressure, spreading her wetness all over it. “David… fuck.”

“Yeah, you like that, huh?” he said softly, his eyes not leaving her face anymore. This was going to be so, so good.

“Ye-hes,” she whimpered and bucked into his face, inner muscles clenching around his digit.

His tongue sliced back and forth, up and down and in circles over her pulsing clit, lips sucking rough and relentless.

“Ahh,” Gillian cried out, and he knew her release was lingering so, so close now.

He pressed his finger a little firmly against her anus, and suddenly, she was grabbing a handful of his hair, twisting it between her fingers while she squeezed his other hand, her whole body jerking.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, Dave- fuuuck,” she screamed, and he couldn’t do anything about it but enjoy and watch in awe as she came... so fucking hard.

It lasted longer than ever before, and when she finally slumped back onto the mattress with an exhausted groan, he slowly removed his hand and kissed her inner thighs, staying with her while she was calming down.

“Oh my god, oh god,” she breathed after a while and put both of her hands over her face, letting her leg slide off his shoulder.

Gillian completely zoned out for a couple of moments, and when she finally opened her eyes again, he was lying beside her again, a lopsided grin on his beautiful, slick lips.

“David,” Gillian whispered and turned towards him. His arm came around her waist and pulled her close to his chest.

“That was incredible,” he said and stroked the small of her back, feeling goosebumps rising underneath his fingertips. She was still incredibly warm, and so soft.

“That was loud,” she corrected and looked at him sheepishly, her forehead bumping against his'.

“Yeah,” he nodded, gently thrusting his erection against the soft skin of her belly. “We better save that for our vacation next time, huh?” David whispered and captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

#relationship goals #gillovny #gillovny rpf #rpf #txf rpf #alternate universe #gillovny trash #moving forward #my writing

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bunnysnuff · 2 months ago

Text

Respectfully no.

Pairing: poly!nick Nelson x m!reader x Charlie spring.

Trigger warning: none.

Reader is a boxer.

Request.

The sun had barely risen over the horizon when Charlie Spring stumbled into the gym, bleary-eyed but excited. Nick Nelson was already there, clad in his workout gear, his face flushed from an intense warm-up. He spotted Charlie and waved him over, his smile brightening the dimly lit space.

“Hey, sleepyhead!” Nick called out, his enthusiasm infectious. “You’re just in time to watch a bit of training.”

Charlie, still half-asleep, rubbed the back of his neck and took a seat on the bench. “You sure you want me to see you get your face punched in?”

Nick laughed, shaking his head. “It’s not like that! It’s all about technique and discipline. Plus, our boyfriend’s a champion—he knows what he’s doing.”

At that moment, you stepped into the gym, exuding energy and confidence. Your toned physique was a testament to the hours you put into training, and you wore a playful grin that could light up the room. “Morning, you two! Ready for some action?”

Charlie felt a spark of competitive spirit at your challenge. “I could totally do this,” he thought, glancing between you and Nick. “If Nick can handle rugby, how hard could boxing be?”

As the training session began, you demonstrated a few basic punches and footwork, your movements fluid and precise. Nick watched, wide-eyed, admiring your skills, and turned to Charlie with a grin. “You should give it a go! It’ll be fun!”

Charlie hesitated for a moment but nodded enthusiastically. “Alright, why not? Let’s see what I’ve got!”

You raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and encouragement in your expression. “Okay, Charlie! Just remember to keep your guard up and don’t be afraid to throw a punch!”

With that, you led Charlie through the basics. He mimicked the footwork, his heart racing with excitement. But as soon as he attempted to throw a punch, everything started to feel overwhelming.

After a few rounds of practice, Charlie was panting, struggling to keep his guard up. His muscles ached, and he began to realize just how physically demanding boxing was.

“Okay, that’s enough for now,” you said, stepping back and wiping your brow. “How are you feeling?”

Charlie leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. “Honestly? I thought this would be easier. My arms feel like jelly!”

Nick chuckled, walking over to him. “You were doing great! But it’s definitely a workout.”

You nodded in agreement, a teasing smile on your lips. “It takes time to build up your strength and endurance. Want to try a few more drills?”

Charlie shook his head, a look of mock seriousness crossing his face. “Respectfully, no. I think I’ll stick to watching you two fight it out instead. Boxing isn’t for me!”

You and Nick burst into laughter, the sound echoing around the gym. “Fair enough,” you replied, crossing your arms and chuckling. “We need a cheerleader anyway!”

Charlie grinned, clearly relieved to step back from the ring. “I’ll take that role any day! Just make sure you both don’t knock each other out while I’m cheering.”

As the two of you resumed training, Charlie found a spot on the sidelines, cheering you on with enthusiasm. He realized that while he may not be cut out for boxing, he was more than happy to support you and Nick from the sidelines. Watching you both in your element was more than enough to fill him with pride.

“Go get ‘em!” Charlie shouted, his heart swelling with affection for both of you.

And in that moment, surrounded by laughter and the thrill of friendly competition, Charlie knew he wouldn’t trade this chaotic, loving relationship for anything in the world.

#heartstopper imagines #heartstopper x reader #charlie spring #charlie spring imagine #charlie spring headcannons #charlie spring x reader #charlie spring x m!reader #charlie spring x reader x nick nelson #poly!charlie spring x m!reader x nick Nelson #charlie spring heartstopper #nick Nelson #nick nelson x reader x charlie spring #nick nelson headcannons #nick nelson x m!reader #nick nelson imagine #nick nelson x reader #poly!nick nelson x m!reader x charlie spring #bunnysnuff writes✨

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b-does-the-write-thing · 7 years ago

Note

400 Followers Prompt- The House Keeper!verse- Belle makes a wish of her own and Nelson isn't sure if he should grant it.

Read The Housekeeper (Pt.1 and Pt. 2) HERE

Nelson Gold kept his promises. There had never been a deal he had reneged on, a person he had short changed or a vow broken.

Until this moment.

“I can’t,” he finally managed.

Belle didn’t huff or puff; she didn’t stomp her foot or throw her arms up in the air. She just stared at him as if she didn’t recognize the man before her. He wanted to take a step forward, to plead with her to understand, but he knew it would be for nought. Belle was many things: an ageless genie, kind and giving but hopelessly naive, a booklover, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen-

She was not however the most understanding.

“You promised,” she replied with her brow furrowing in a surprising imitation of his own. “You said if I ever desired anything, you would wish it for me.”

“Yes! Your freedom or - or a house or a car but I -I can’t give you a- a baby!”

Belle cocked her head to the side as if assessing the truth of this statement and Gold had to resist the urge to cover himself as he gaze fell below his hips. “You can,” she said when her gaze returned to his now burning face. “Genies cannot procreate in the traditional sense but there are women who can bear children for them.”

“Are you suggesting a a-?” He couldn’t bring himself to actually say the word harem, just grateful his voice didn’t come out in a croak as his tie seemed to be cutting off his air supply.

Belle had the grace to color slightly. “I know your feelings on such…things,” she finished delicately. As he remembered, he had made her promise to never bring up anything regarding women and sex in general after her first offer to find him a wife. “I simply meant…Emma told me about surrogates.”

That’s all he needed. Emma was like a dog with a bone. His daughter in law had always been suspicious of Belle’s relationship with the Gold men, as no one else in Storybrooke had a maid much less a live in housekeeper. “You talked to Emma about this?”

Behind them, the shop door jiggled and someone tested to see if it was open. Belle waved a hand behind her and the curtains snapped shut and the sign flipped to close. “I simply expressed my admiration for the miracle of birth and…a wish for a child of my own.”

Her eyes were bright as always, but they shimmered as if tears were threatening to fall. His body took a step towards her on its own accord, the familiar ache to take her in his arms somehow overriding his better sense. “Belle, sweetheart,” he said and his fingers twitched at his side as he tried to hold them in place. “I…I’m too old to have another child.”

“You are not,” Belle said and he held up a hand to indicate he had not been finished speaking. It was an old system of theirs, a sign when one of them needed be open to listening to the other. Belle wiggled her nose in displeasure but fell silent to let him continue.

“I’m in my late fifties,” he reminded her gently. “I will not live forever. It wouldn’t be fair to have a child…and leave them.”

“So, instead, you’ll leave me alone,” Belle whispered and her bottom lip quivered as she tried to hold back tears. “Do you really not care for me at all? That you don’t…that you wouldn’t-”

She had raised Neal. She had been there for him for all the times his son had needed a mother, a friend, someone to listen and empathize. Belle loved his son like a mother, and Neal loved her and God, Nelson loved her and her pain was too much for him to handle properly. She was hurting, and she thought he was rejecting her, and she was a genie and she thought she owed him everything whens he owed him nothing, when he owed her the world, when he owed her his very soul.

All of this occurred to him in an instant and then his traitorous body decided the hell with all the trillion and one reasons why he shouldn’t and it moved to kiss her.

In the moment his lips finally met Belle’s, Gold let himself forget reason and the why and why nots. Her small gasp of delighted surprise opened her to him and like the bastard he was, he took full advantage of it. Her hands were in his hair and she tilted her head backwards to deepen the kiss. She held him firmly in pace, but it was not necessary, after ten years of wanting to know what she tasted like, what noises she would make, what she would feel like pressed against him, he wouldn’t be able to stop unless she magically removed him.

She didn’t seem to have an inclination to do anything of the sort. Instead, she tugged him backwards with her until they reached the glass counter tops. Without breaking the kiss for more than second, he lifted her upwards and she went willingly, her arms clasping around his back and her legs wrapping around his thighs.

His own hands went to her hips, and he ran them up and down the curves of the petite genie, memorizing them. He leaned against the counter, taking the weight of his damnable leg, and her trademark short skirt rode up to reveal a flash of her inner thigh and his mind short circuited completely.

His mouth was on her neck now, and she was making encouraging noises which should be illegal, and then his mouth was on her collar where her button up parted invitingly and he wasn’t going to be able to stop unless God himself intervened.

Or his daughter-in-law.

“Holy!” At Emma’s exclamation, Gold spang away from Belle and nearly ran straight into his pregnant daughter-in-law. “Oh God! Sorry, sorry,” Emma chanted as she tried to avoid looking at the two of them. Gold had to shift his own posture slightly to hide his own shame but he had no doubt Emma had already noticed. Annoyingly, the young woman seemed to notice everything.

“Emma!’ Belle cried in dizzy delight as she righted herself. Gold had a burning shame in his gut as he stared at the genie’s tousled hair, pink cheeks and strawberry red lips, plump from his ministrations. Belle gave no indication that she was at all embarrassed to be found in the process of being ravished by her supposed employer. “What brings you here?”

Emma shot a side eyed glance over at Gold. “Sorry…the front door was locked and I heard voices…”

“So, you came in through the back?” he commented and his own embarrassment lent a growl to his voice.

“What can we help you with, Emma?” Belle asked with a radiant smile. She had not moved from the counter top, though her skirt had returned to its proper place.

“Uh right. Neal asked me to stop by and drop this off.” With an awkward shuffle, she handed Belle an envelope which was stamped with a blue rattle. Judging by her discomfort, Neal had insisted and Emma had put it off to the last moment. Emma and Gold had a very…odd relationship and while Belle was fond of the younger woman, Emma had decent instincts, and had always been wary of Belle, not trusting the story the rest of Storybrooke had bought.

“A baby shower!” Belle cried in delight as she ripped it open. “Oh, how wonderful, I’ve always wanted to go to one of these!”

Emma nodded, pleased at her excitement though still clearly uncomfortable. “Well…I’ll just be going…”

“Right,” Gold said as he cleared his throat.

“Bye, Emma!” Belle chimed as she waved merrily from her perch. When the blonde disappeared out the curtains to the back, Gold strained to listen to hear the back door close. When it finally, mercifully did, Belle waved a hand and the slide of the lock echoed back to them. Belle turned back to him with an expectant smile. “So, where were we?” she murmured and God help him, he really didn’t know.

#b does the write thing #the housekeeper #rumbelle fic

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eurusholmmes · 8 years ago

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the best medicine is you|| matt murdock

After his recent run in with Fisk and the temporary loss of Foggy, Matt has ultimately decided that the best medicine to his aching heart is the woman who loves him more then just about anything else in this world.

This is fluff. Pure fluff. I just finished Season 1 of Daredevil and I’m head over heels for Matthew Murdock. He’s the definition of ‘deserves the world’ so here’s an short oneshot! I’ll probably write four or five of these when I have some time - This week is going to be hellish.

Set between 1x10 and 1x11

“Y/n..” His voice broke off as Matt silenced his sob with his hand, his heart aching as he pressed his ear against his phone. “Can you come over to my apartment? I-I need you.”

Matthew Murdock had been your fiance for a little under a year, and your boyfriend for more then four. The two of you had met at Landman and Zach where you’d accidentally collided with the only blind man inside the Firm, rambling on apologies like a maniac as you fell to your knees to pick up the fallen files. Matt had done nothing but comment on how much he liked the sound of your voice, completely unknowing of the blush that spread across your face and chest when he handed you the remaining files. You blamed it on your clumsiness. He blamed it on fate.

Or at least, that was what he liked to think.

Before tonight, you were the only one who knew about his heightened senses and his night job as the Devil of Hells Kitchen. Being as protective as you were- you obviously hadn’t approved at first with Matt coming home in the early hours of the morning covered in deep cuts and bruises, not to mention the overwhelming smell of blood that constantly made you want to vomit.

Now Foggy knew. And he was furious.

But the difference between you and Foggy? You were one hundred percent committed to Matt Murdock. Vigilante or normal blind man, Matt was the one person you poured unconditional love and devotion into.

He was worth it. He would always be worth it.

You set off without a second thought, immediately leaving Nelson and Murdock despite Karens nagging questions and set off for Matt’s apartment. Just as you had arrived at his front door Foggy came out and slammed it behind him, anger written across his face. “Don’t you dare go in there. He doesn’t deserve sympathy right now.” He snarled, gripping your wrist tightly in his fingers. It was rare that you ever saw Foggy angry - but it was quite obvious that whatever had happened between him and Matt had done the job.

“Matt deserves everything I can give him and more.” You snapped back, wrenching your wrist from his grasps and softly knocking on the door before disappearing inside. The apartment was dark and in shambles, bits and pieces of wood splinters brushed off to the side of the room. The air smelled distinctly like sweat and blood- who it belonged to, you had no idea. At that point you were just praying it wasn’t Matts. “Matty? Are you alright sweetheart?”

Your fiance was laying on his sofa in the fetal position, his knees loosely tucked to his chest due to the cuts that Foggy had attempted to clean and bandage. Being his fiance was a perk because not only were you caring enough to tend to him - you were also a good friend to Claire who had taught you how to stitch solely for this reason alone. “He-He hates me.” Matt sobbed, extending his hands to grip your arms as you knelt beside him and slowly ran a hand through his matted hair. “I didn’t tell him the truth and now he-”

“Foggy could never hate you. You two depend on each other.” You whispered. Matt let out a broken sob and buried his face in your chest, his fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt as you loosely tugged on his hair. “I need you to sit up so I can stitch these cuts shut, Matt. They’re the worst ones I’ve seen so far.”

Matt sat up at the waist and tilted his head as your fingers brushed against his chest, sending shivers down the length of his spine. He’d always loved the feel of your fingers. Soft tips brushing against his scars, regarding them with such awe that it almost always had him in tears. It didn’t matter if he thought they made him repulsive on top of being blind - to you they were beautiful.

Cool air swept across his skin as you removed his zip up sweatshirt and tossed it to the side, gently pushing him into the cushion so his torso was exposed to you.

“Why-why do you support me in this? I’ve come back here nearly dead multiple times. You don’t deserve that.”

You exhaled and leaned forward on your knees to cup his face in your hands, running your thumb over his lips before you gently captured them in your own. He hummed against your mouth as his hands fell to your hips, pulling you into his lap while never breaking the kiss. You pulled away just as his tongue had begun to tease your lips open and moved to his jaw, his grip tightening as you left soft kisses against his jawline and down the column of his neck.

“No, you’re right. I don’t deserve that. What I deserve is the love of my life kissing me until I’m breathless and whispering about our future in my ear in the dead of night. What I deserve is sitting right in front of me.” You slid off of his lap and managed a weak smile as he swallowed the tears threatening to spill past his eyes. “Let me go get the kit. This shouldn’t take long.”

After fifteen minutes of comfortable silence and stitching of wounds, you stepped back to admire you work and smiled as Matt moved to stand to his feet. “Sweetheart,” He said quietly. “Would you-Would you just.. hold me?” A part of you wondered what had gone wrong to get him wounds so deep, but you made no move to act on your questions as you pulled on the hem of his sweatpants to guide him across the gap and close it. “You’re the best medicine.”

Your laughter vibrated against his skin as Matt pulled you closer, chests brushing as he ducked his head into the crook of your shoulder. “You have always used the cheesiest lines. It’s absolutely ridiculous.’’ You said quietly, running your hands up his bare chest and tangling in his hair. “Everything’s gonna be okay. You’re going to defeat Fisk, and Hells Kitchen is going to be a better place. You have me - I’m always going to be your cheerleader no matter the opposition.” Matt tilted your chin upward to meet his glowing hazel eyes, so close to you that you could feel the breath from his lips fan against your skin.

“I love you.” He confessed. “It would be a shame if I didn’t ask this. Can I kiss you?”

“Absolutely.”

The night ended with Matt unconscious in your arms, his head in the crook of your neck as you took in the smell of his newly washed hair wafting into your nostrils. A warm smile spread across your lips as he nuzzled your neck and smiled in his sleep, his fingers flexing from where they rested on your stomach.

“I love you too, you brave man.” You whispered. “The bravest man I’ve ever known. I hope you dream of happiness and love.. because that’s all you deserve.” You pressed a kiss against the top of his head and threaded your fingers through his now damp hair. “I can’t wait for our future together.”

#matt murdock #matthew murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #marvel imagines #daredevil imagine #Kayla Grace writes imagines #daredevil x reader

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topbeautifulwomens · 6 years ago

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#How #Do #Qualities #Of #A #Good #Leader #Really #Help #In #Changing #Your #Life? #haircolors #hairstraightener #instafashion #kawaii #makeupgoals #modelling #mood #outfitoftheday #positive #red

I’ve created three material now in relation to chiefship. Why is this? I am assisting folks to produce a lifestyle of their own type. In other words and phrases, if you might be not pleased in which your life is heading then I’m providing some approaches to help exchange it. Agree it truly isn’t really basic, however undertaking anything now will have an effect afterwards no matter how lengthy it settle fors.

Producing and constructing a life of your own design will take dedication, focus and enthusiasm. Say for case in point you’ve got some amazing Thoughts Functioning Against House. How do you take these guidelines forward and change your life? To me it is not always regarding the ideas or principles, but whether or not one has the perspective to keep the system. Here’s where management comes into play.

Admiral Nelson, who defeated the French at the struggle of Trafalgar, would usually go under deck to shell out time with his junior officials. This apply was unlisten tod of. He did not go down to explain to them what to do or to give them buys, but to listen to their reports since he was impressed by their calories and passion. They introduced youth, spark, buzz and optimism. They experienced no experience. As we go up the ranks, we shed that passion regardless of getting experience.

Nelson felt it was critical to spend time with that youth to maintain him energised. Each he essential to percentage his experience to help the other folks broaden.

This is a conventional case of serving others, a leadership talent, and is not constructed into our lifestyle or society way too as it have to be.

Carry you read the phrase ‘servant leadership’? You typically never hear towards people ‘I aspire to be a leader’, ‘I need to have to be a leader’, ‘I’m working on being a leader’. You in a natural way hear ‘I want to be a leader of people’, ‘training my people to become leaders of people’ and so forth. In other words, we aspire to be a leader of people, not just a leader. There are no leaders of a maker. This is the big difference among leadership and management. A leader is guilty to people that comply with them.

Currently being final results through influence is a leadership skill. Affect in enterprise is a lot run by authority; ‘I’m the manager and I’m likely to tell you what to do!’ This is opposed to providing people access to your time and experience in order for them to find out and grow. If you have the experience, make it obtainable to others – remain open up.

What helps make a person a long lasting leader? Lasting leadership is not what’s on the exterior but what is inside. It has every little thing to do with your nature. This could be unlike cosmetic; getting your perspective proper. It truly is not about your hair flavor, high-priced jewelry, lovely clothing, but the beauty within.

There was tale about a division shop selling beauty goods and hunting for a lovely particular person to be envisiond in a selling marketing campaign. The store requested its clientele to deliver in images alongside with a story about the most beautiful women they understood. Hundreds of letters were acquired. Nevertheless, one particular letter got absolutely everyone’s consideration as a result was handed on to the president. Beside the picture was a observe written by a boy from a damaged residence in a operate down neighbourhood.

The note read through:

‘A beautiful woman life down the highway from me. I check out her everyworking day. She makes me come to feel like the most important little one in the planet. She listens to my head aches, is aware me, after I depart she usually yells out the door – she is happy of me. The picture connected exhibits you she is the most beautiful woman in the Globe and one day hope to have a spouse as rather as her’.

Fascinated, the president of the company then seemed at the picture. He was revealed the photograph of a smiley toothless woman, certain in a wheel chair, places, brown hair, wrinkles lowered by the twinkle in her eyes.

The president could not use the picture in the campaign because he knew no beauty products were browsing be needed to make this woman beautiful as beauty was driven from within.

In excess of are a number of distinct views of leadership; providing access and influence to help others no matter where you stand in society. We all have an capacity to give and to help others. In business, we prosper by creating a relationship with people. Serving people gets to be results. Management is about serving and sharing. Carrying out what it takes. Be focused to getting the most out of your times. Be committed to getting results. Be a leader.

We can all aspire to obtain far better stuff. It could be a case of modifying course and doing something you have never accomplished, but always dreamt of. I’m aiding people to feel positively about the foreseeable future and how very best use their time. I believe that people can locate a way within to go after an idea and a vision. We all have the ability to take handle of our lives, but several just do not know it or how.

The post How Do Qualities Of A Good Leader Really Help In Changing Your Life? appeared first on Beautiful Women.

source http://topbeautifulwomen.com/how-do-qualities-of-a-good-leader-really-help-in-changing-your-life/

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fortlauderdalemodel · 6 years ago

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How Aretha Franklin Planted the Seeds of Hip-Hop

ARETHA FRANKLIN

What It Was Like to Be at Aretha Franklin’s First NYC Performance

How Aretha Franklin Planted the Seeds of Hip-Hop

Nelson George on How Aretha Franklin Bridged the Secular and the Spiritual

Al Sharpton, Fantasia and Babyface Share Personal Aretha Franklin Stories

YEAR IN MUSIC 2017 12/26/2017

The 20 Best R&B Songs of 2017: Critics’ Picks

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YEAR IN MUSIC 2017 12/18/2017

What’s Your Favorite Song of 2017? Vote!

YEAR IN MUSIC 2017 5/16/2018

Frances Bean Cobain’s Ex-Husband Wins Nirvana ‘MTV Unplugged’ Guitar in Divorce Settlement

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YEAR IN MUSIC 2017 12/29/2017

The 50 Best Samples, Covers and References of 2017: Critic’s Picks

YEAR IN MUSIC 2017 12/27/2017

The 10 Best Feuds of 2017: Which Artists Had the Best Beef This Year?

Getty Images; Design by Jessica Xie

From left: SZA, Frank Ocean & Childish Gambino

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While hip-hop and dance stayed at pop music’s center in 2017, R&B managed seep its way into the mainstream, in ways both satisfying and unpredictable.

Thanks to a couple too-good-to-ignore crossover hits, and a quasi-reinvention from one of pop’s biggest stars, R&B was an increasingly regular presence on top 40 radio throughout the year. And with several of the genre’s most promising talents percolating just below the surface, the genre’s slow trickle into the 2017 mainstream could lead to a full-on tidal wave in the years to come.

Here are Billboard’s 20 favorite R&B songs of 2017.

20. PARTYNEXTDOOR, “Peace Of Mind”

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OVO Sound’s resident sad-boy R&B songsmith stayed busy in 2017, releasing two EPs of material. “Peace of Mind,” from COLOURS 2, had the most staying power, standing out from the pack for its frank songwriting and straight-to-the-point hook. “I did crazy things and she still waited on me” is the sort of lyric you recognize in your chest. — ROSS SCARANO

19. Jazmine Sullivan & Bryson Tiller, “Insecure”

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Featured on the season two soundtrack of the popular HBO series of the same name, this mid-tempo track showcases two of contemporary R&B’s game-changing players. Sullivan’s soaring-voiced dismay at her significant other’s insecurities provides the perfect counterpoint to Tiller’s crooning tenor. — GAIL MITCHELL

18. Toni Braxton, “Deadwood”

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The voluptuous-voiced singer prefaces her upcoming eighth studio album with this left-of-center, guitar-driven track about a complicated romance. The feel of the melodic cut and its piercing lyrics portend what’s in store on Toni’s forthcoming Sex & Cigarettes LP. As the R&B legend told The Insider in September, “I wanna say what I feel. I don’t wanna be censored.” — G.M.

17. August Alsina, “Don’t Matter”

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Not everything is alt-R&B. Nola’s August Alsina released this perfectly The-Dream-indebted single in June and real ones haven’t let it leave the rotation since. With a chorus anchored by those familiar cries of “Ay!” “Don’t Matter” is like home cooking. You’ve been here before and it’s nice to be back. — R.S.

16. Ty Dolla $ign feat. Damien Marley & Skrillex, “So Am I”

youtube

One of the few Ty Dolla-graced singles this year not to hedge its bets with some sort of ’90s hit interpolation, “So Am I” probably could’ve worked in some Inner Circle or something if the singer-producer was really determined to maintain brand consistency. But it doesn’t need it: The song’s hypnotic beachside bounce (assisted by Skrillex, apparently on permanent dubstep vacation) is warmly evocative of the dancehall crossovers of 20 years ago on its own, while its squawking pseudo-drop keeps it rooted in 2017 without sounding so trendy to risk Airport Reggae drubbing. — ANDREW UNTERBERGER

15. Sevyn Streeter, “Before I Do”

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Is a potential lover for real or not? That’s the question Sevyn Streeter asks on this standout track from her Girl Disrupted debut album. The singer’s sultry vocals glide over a mellow groove that effortlessly recalls Aaliyah’s cover of the Isley Brothers’ classic “At Your Best (You Are Love)” — never a bad thing. — G.M.

14. H.E.R., “Free”

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Long after the last note has sounded on this aching ballad, H.E.R.’s haunting vocals on the confessional chorus still linger: “You don’t ever say forever / Layin’ next to me / But nights like this I wish I never / Said that I was free.” — G.M.

13. Kelela, “Frontline”

https://open.spotify.com/embed/track/6b3KUNSmJL1qIfi1hF1G6Y

With “Frontline,” Kelela recorded the special opening track that’s so good, so purposeful, it could’ve been the album’s closer too. The song has so many parts, so many musical ideas, it feels like a movie — you’ve gone on a journey by the time it finishes. And yet it never feels overstuffed or scatterbrained; this is a breakup song that leaves you feeling refreshed, like you can do anything. “Why are you testing me?” she asks rhetorically. She’s got the answer spring-loaded: “I’m not the one.” — R.S.

12. Syd, “Got Her Own”

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On this understated highlight from her Fin album, Syd soulfully extols admiration — and longing — for a female peer who’s crushing it in terms of financial independence. “Heard she drive a Beemer and she got it on her own,” Syd sings on the yearning chorus. “Heard she was a dreamer but she sleeping all alone / I just wanna meet her ’cause I just wanna know.” — G.M.

11. Jeremih feat. Chris Brown & Big Sean, “I Think of You”

youtube

With “This Is How We Do It” being played out at seemingly every karaoke night and ’90s-themed party of the 21st century, a shift in retro-attention to Montell Jordan’s second-best hit, “Get It On Tonite,” has been long overdue. Luckily, Jeremih remembers: His “I Think of You” is as close a tribute to the 1999 hit’s slinking groove and frisky energy as you can get without risking lawsuit. It’s so much fun that Big Sean can’t help but sneak in a guest verse at the last second. — A.U.

10. Jacquees, “B.E.D.”

youtube

Cash Money jumped into the R&B bigtime in 2017 with this explicit anthem from Jacquees, using Avant’s 2003 R&B/pop hit “Read My Mind” as the song’s springboard. The young crooner told Billboard of the lift, “I started singing [the Avant hook] over the beat. We knew it was going to be a hit the moment we heard it.” — G.M.

9. Jessica Ware, “Midnight”

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Nothing could’ve quite prepared Jessie Ware fans for the towering power balladry of “Midnight,” the lead track on third album Glasshouse, which essentially throws the curtains open on her earlier sensual slow jams to bathe them in jarringly bright moonlight. Over an insistent Prince-via-“Bennie and the Jets” stomp, the British singer-songwriter wails with increasing urgency, “This moment is made for you and I to go higher – higher – HIGHER – HIGHER!,” before pulling back to calmly plead “…can you meet me in the midnight?” Lord help you if the answer’s no. — A.U.

8. Frank Ocean, “Chanel”

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“My guy pretty like a girl/ And he got fight stories to tell” might be the best opening couplet of the year. That it signaled Frank Ocean’s renewed commitment to releasing music made it all the sweeter. Frank didn’t ghost on us in 2017 and of the loosies he released, “Chanel” felt the most essential to his evolving story. It laid out the themes he’d explore in the year’s subsequent releases and featured some of his most evocative writing to date. “I know you need to try for my belt,” he sings in a tone that lets you know the competition is zilch. Seeing both sides is good and all but there’s no point in arguing about Frank’s place at the top of the game. — R.S.

7. Miguel, “Told You So”

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The second single from Miguel’s War & Leisure harkens back to the singer/songwriter’s ‘80s-inspired EP series Art Dealer Chic. On this funky turn, Miguel dishes out multiple intentions: Is he talking to a lover or jabbing a finger at the country’s present and past social unrest? Both situations are depicted in the song’s video. Either way, the song ultimately reveals Miguel’s adeptness at delivering sly-yet-resonant messages. — G.M.

6. Daniel Caesar feat. Kali Uchis “Get You”

youtube

Perhaps more than any other genre, R&B produces songs that feel instantly timeless, like you’ll be hearing them at weddings for generations to come as love springs eternal. “Get You,” Daniel Caesar’s collab with Kali Uchis is a gentle ode to romantic luck. “Who would’ve thought I’d get you?” Caesar sings on the hook, expressing neatly that dumbstruck feeling we all hope lasts forever. — G.M.

5. SZA, “The Weekend”

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You know you’ve got something when a Grammy winner does an impromptu cover of your song. But even before Miguel’s riveting version (and its top 15 status on Billboard’s Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs tally), “The Weekend” was among the stellar tracks singled out by critics when SZA released debut album Ctrl. The track samples “Set the Mood (Prelude)” from Justin Timberlake’s 2006 album FutureSex/LoveSounds, but it’s all about SZA here, as her soft, emotive voice searingly conveys the conundrum of sharing a boyfriend with other females: “My man is my man is your man, heard it’s her man, too.” – G.M.

4. Childish Gambino, “Redbone”

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“Redbone” achieved its No. 12 peak on the Billboard Hot 100 over half a year after its debut, and unlike some stupefying chart slow-burns, this one actually made sense: The narcotic creep of Childish Gambino’s first true crossover hit initially lands as “above-average P-Funk tribute,” proving itself something timely and unique only many listens later. Luckily, pop culture gave us the opportunity for the necessary exposure, as the song was ultimately revealed to be equally fit for a Twitter makeout meme as a foreshadowing musical cue in a horror comedy, simultaneously seductive and foreboding and just infectious. Without “Redbone,” Glover is still likely known in the U.S. as an actor with a musical side career, with the undeniable soul smash, he’s one of the most-nominated artists at this year’s Grammys. — A.U.

3. Khalid, “Location”

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The takeover began here. Pop upstart Khalid’s debut single “Location” makes magic from a contemporary dating request. The Kylie Jenner cosign surely helped but the song’s appeal is broad, even if the lyrics get specific to this phone-dependent generation. — R.S.

2. DJ Khaled feat. Rihanna & Bryson Tiller “Wild Thoughts”

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Here’s another perfect example of updating a classic vibe. Carlos Santana’s 1999 No. 1 pop and R&B hit “Maria Maria,” featuring The Product G&B, provides the foundation for DJ Khaled’s blast-from-the-past refresher course. Santana’s scorching guitar riffs fittingly underscore the sexual heat and wild thoughts radiating from Rihanna and Bryson Tiller’s ingenious pairing. — G.M.

1. Bruno Mars, “That’s What I Like”

youtube

As with his guest appearance on Mark Ronson’s Grammy-winning “Uptown Funk,” the similarly Hot 100-besting “That’s What I Like” added another mega-hit to Bruno Mars’ repertoire. A deft balancing act between retro and contemporary R&B with an earworm hook, “That’s What I Like” rightly became one of the most ubiquitous songs of 2017. The midtempo groove (co-written by Mars along with Christopher Brody Brown, James Fauntleroy and Philip Lawrence, plus production/songwriting team the Stereotypes), is also a multiple Grammy contender: up for song of the year, best R&B song and best R&B performance. — G.M.

https://open.spotify.com/embed/user/billboard.com/playlist/0cpFIXFiyOQGF26gB9pjZl

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