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chaoticforever · 8 months ago

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Remnants of Regret | Tony Stark x Son! Reader

Summary: All Y/n ever wanted was his father’s love. Was that too much to ask?

Y/n sat on the floor in his bedroom, legs crossed, focusing intently on the canvas propped up before him. With a charcoal stick in his hand, Y/n carefully sketched the outline of a cityscape, his e/c eyes narrowed in concentration. His room permeated with the soft scratching of charcoal on canvas, a melody in the air.

Once Y/n finished the final touches and scooted back to examine his piece. One simple word crossed his mind: beautiful.

Since childhood, Y/n has loved drawing, sketching, and painting. He started with simple subjects like trees, flowers, and stars, then progressed to more complex images like people's faces and vehicles. He loved it so much that he pursued an art degree in college, unable to imagine a life not surrounded by art of some kind.

Furthermore, art allowed him to express emotions that words couldn't convey by providing an escape from the chaos of everyday life. It was just him, his brush, and the many possibilities on a canvas.

However, Y/n sometimes wondered if choosing art as his passion was a good idea since his father, Tony Stark, did not seem to appreciate his artistic abilities. Instead, he shifted the appreciation that he should have for Y/n to someone else.

Peter Parker.

See, Y/n Stark is the type of guy who preferred music and painting to building suits and technology that Tony loved so much, which only seemed to widen the gap between father and son. Tony didn’t seem to have much time for his son but made sure to have lots of time for Peter, who shared Tony's love for technology.

Y/n couldn’t help but feel jealous as he watched his dad always dote on Peter, offering him opportunities and praise that Y/n craved. But he seemed to have little time or patience for his artistic son.

He placed his finished piece on his desk and started putting away his sketching utensils. Just then, he heard a knock on his open door and turned around to see that Steve was standing in the doorway. Y/n smiled when he saw Steve. Besides Tony, Steve was his favorite Avenger. He sometimes acted more of a parent than the one currently in his life and the guys both bonded over their love for drawing.

"Hey, Steve. How was the mission?"

"Tiring. Dealing with rogue mutants can certainly take a toll on me," Steve replied, his eyes suddenly drifting to Y/n's newly crafted sketch, "Nice drawing Y/n. Is this for your end-of-semester art project?"

Y/n nodded his head in confirmation. "Yes, my professor wanted the class to draw something that represents our unique perspective on the world."

"And what perspective is that?"

Y/n paused to think about that question. "I guess... It's my view of the world as an artist. The world is full of life and energy, but there's also darkness and shadows. It's a reminder that beauty and struggles coexist. Nothing can ever change that."

Steve nodded, tracing the bold lines and subtle shading. "That’s an interesting yet accurate perspective. I am proud of you. You’re going to do great things one day."

A small smile appeared on Y/n’s face. He may not have gotten his dad’s praise, but he was happy that someone praised his artistic abilities and told him that he was proud of him. It warmed his heart.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me."

"You’re welcome. By the way, we’re having a group dinner tonight. We’ll be having lasagna, so bring your appetite."

Y/n grinned. He loved the soldier's cooking, especially when it was a dinner meal. It was so much better than eating takeout. "Oh, I'll be there, and y'all better hope that it all doesn’t get eaten by me."

Steve laughed before pivoting on his heel and leaving. Y/n watched as the soldier's retreating figure disappeared down the hall before turning back to his sketch, contentment washing over him.

As Y/n admired his work, his thoughts drifted back to his father. He knew that Tony loved him in his own way, but their relationship had always been strained. Tony’s focus on technology and his busy lifestyle, along with mentoring Peter, left little room for the two to hang out or for Tony to understand Y/n's passion for art.

But now, Y/n was determined to fix their relationship. After all, he lost his mother over a decade ago, and his father was the only blood family that he had left. He didn’t want their relationship to continue to be strained, and if Tony could make room for Peter in his life, then he could make some room for his biological son.

With that thought in mind, the e/c-eyed male headed to the private elevator that would take him to Tony’s workshop. And as he rounded the corner, he bumped into Rhodey, whom Y/n often looked up to as well. They greeted each other with their signature handshake that was only made for them two before Rhodey took off, explaining that he had a meeting to attend with a council member, and Y/n continued his journey to the workshop.

When he arrived at Tony's workshop, he saw his father standing next to his work bench, typing on his phone. Behind Tony, there was his Iron Man suit, opened up. Y/n figured that he just stepped out of it.

"Hey, Dad." Y/n greeted politely, crossing the room to give Tony a one-armed hug.

Surprisingly, Y/n's father did reciprocate the hug but didn’t even bother to look up at his son when he greeted him. He just kept his brown eyes glued to the phone in his hand. "Y/n. How was your day?"

"It was good. Classes were pretty light today, and I mostly just worked on my end-of-the-semester project for art class." Y/n explained, hoping that Tony would ask him more follow-up questions, such as what piece Y/n decided to draw or if he could see the work for himself. However, all Tony gave was a curt nod, still typing on that phone of his. So, Y/n cleared his throat and switched topics: "Dad, do you want to hang out this Saturday? There’s this art showing at the museum, and—"

"An art showing?" Tony finally looked up from his phone, his eyes flicking briefly to his son’s face before returning to the screen. "Sorry, kid, but I have meetings this Saturday. Besides, I’d rather watch paint dry than look at old paintings. You know that I’m more of a technology and engineering kind of guy than an art one."

Y/n's shoulders drooped, and he tried to hide the disappointment he felt. "Yeah, I know. I just thought maybe you’d want to spend some time together. It’s been a minute since we did something like that."

Tony seemed oblivious to Y/n's reaction, continuing to tap away at his phone. "Well, we’ve been busy. You're busy with college, and I'm busy with SI and saving the world, two full-time jobs for me," he put his phone down on the desk, finally giving Y/n his full attention. "But you’re right, we haven’t hung out in a long time. How about we go see that new Outlast movie that’s coming out next weekend?"

Y/n nodded, a small smile coming onto his face. Even though it wasn’t what he wanted to do, he was just happy to have some father-son time with his dad. And more importantly, it was without Peter.

"That sounds good to me. I can’t wait."

Y/n turned around and prepared to leave the room, excitement fluttering in his chest, just as Tony got a phone call from Peter. Y/n stood there for a moment and listened to how Tony asked Peter when he would be coming over and that Tony cleared the rest of his schedule today to help Peter with his last semester project.

The h/c-haired son frowned, feeling the excitement he felt a couple seconds ago disappear and the raw disappointment return. So, Tony can clear his schedule for Peter and make time for him, but he can't make time for his biological son?

It was ridiculous.

But Y/n had to remind himself that it was okay. Peter could have that time with his father all he wanted to today because next weekend, the two Starks would be spending some time together.

Feeling satisfied, Y/n left the workshop and returned to his room. It turned out that he had two things to look forward to: lasagna and the movies next week.

He couldn’t wait.

XXXXX XXXXX

The days passed slowly, but finally, the long-awaited Saturday finally arrived. It was the day of the planned outing with Y/n and his father, a day Y/n had been looking forward to. He hoped this would be a turning point in their relationship, a chance to bridge the gap that seemed to widen between them every passing day.

Now, he was getting ready in his room, choosing a casual outfit of jeans and a T-shirt. He knew that, even though it was April, the weather was rather cool with it being sixty-five degrees outside. That made him add a blue jacket to his outfit.

After checking himself out in the mirror, he walked down the hall to the common area, where Tony had told him to meet. As he walked down the hall, he hoped that the horror movie they were going to see would be good. The trailer did look promising but they can also be deceitful.

Y/n rounded the corner and entered the common area, where the Avengers were watching a movie and enjoying a spread of pizzas, popcorn, nachos, and cheese fries. Thor was the only one who wasn’t here since he went to Asgard for a few days. He noticed they were watching the first "Back to the Future," a classic Steve had promised to watch at the next team movie night after Y/n discovered that he had never seen that movie series before.

Guess he finally listened, Y/n thought as he looked around the room and noticed something that he had failed to notice.

His dad was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, has anyone seen my dad?" Y/n asked, looking over the team of heroes.

"Yeah, he left. You just missed him too." Clint answered, his fingers reaching into the popcorn bowl that was in his lap and shoving some popcorn into his mouth.

Y/n frowned. What? "Left? Left where?"

"He said that he was taking Peter to the science fair." Steve munched on a pizza.

The college student's heart sank and his shoulders sagged, feeling disappointed. So, his father had forgotten about their plans. Again. And it was for Peter. Again.

"Oh," was all Y/n could manage to utter. He knew that he should be used to this, but it still stung every time it happened.

Natasha, sensing the disappointment in Y/n's timbre, glanced over at him. "You didn't know he was going out with Peter."

That was a statement, not a question. Natasha had always been perceptive.

"No, no, I did," Y/n backpedaled, forcing a grin. He didn't understand why he was protecting his father, but he just wanted this conversation to end. "I just forgot, but you telling me made me remember."

Y/n knew he was a terrible liar, and he didn't sound convincing. He knew they didn't believe him, considering Steve's frown, Bruce's concerned look, and the looks shared between Clint and Natasha.

Bruce grabbed the remote and paused the movie. "Look, why don't you join us, Y/n? You can finish the movie with us."

"Yeah, come on, Y/n!" Sam piped up. "We've got plenty of food, and we were just about to start a game of charades."

Y/n glanced at the team of superheroes. While he appreciated their invitation, he had been looking forward to spending time with his dad, so he shook his head but still kept the forced smile on his features. "Thank you guys, but I think I'll just head back to my room. Next time."

The h/c-haired male turned around and left the main area, frustration nagging at his insides. When he got to his room, he flopped down on his bed, back pressed against it as he stared up at the ceiling.

He didn’t understand.

Why did Tony continue to treat him as an afterthought? And what the hell was so damn special about Peter? Why did he always have to be the recipient of his father’s love? He couldn’t help but feel like he was always playing second fiddle to the guy who was two years younger than him. It was ridiculous to be jealous of someone younger than him, but Y/n couldn’t help himself. It hurt so much that his father favored Peter over him.

Y/n pulled out his phone, intending to call his dad when he got a notification from Instagram that his dad had posted a pic. He clicked on it and found himself staring at an image of his dad with Peter.

The caption read: Peter will take over my company someday. #prouddadmoment.

Proud dad moment...?

Peter wasn’t even his actual son and Y/n couldn’t stand the way his dad looked at Peter with such praise. What can I do to make him look at me like that one time?

And before Y/n knew it, his cheeks were pelted with water, and he just realized at that moment that he was crying. The tears fell to his cheeks before dropping onto the bed, but Y/n wiped his cheeks angrily since he shouldn’t allow this to make him sad. But it was so hard not to.

His e/c eyes drifted to the photo that was on his side table. He reached for it and picked it up. It was a photo of his mom. Y/n allowed his finger to run over his mom’s smiling face in the picture. It’s times like this when he wishes that she was still alive. At least then, he’d have a parent in his life who cared about him.

Suddenly, a knock came from his door.

"Come in," Y/n called out, setting down the photo back on his desk. He wished that it was his father knocking on the door, but he wasn't surprised when the door opened, and it wasn't him. It was Steve. "Hi, Steve. Did you like the movie?"

Steve nodded, taking a seat on the bed. "I did. It was a great eighties film. I can see why you love it so much." Steve then changed the conversation. "You okay?"

Y/n nodded. He knew he wasn't okay, but he didn't want to ruin Steve's evening with his problem. "I'm fine. Shouldn't you be playing charades with everyone else?"

The soldier disregarded the question and simply stared at Y/n for a moment, seemingly sensing that he wasn’t telling the truth. "Hey, why don't we grab some dessert? I know a great ice cream shop."

Y/n hesitated briefly. He didn't want to be a burden to Steve, but he also didn't want to spend his evening in his room.

"That sounds nice, thanks." Y/n smiled and followed the soldier out of the door.

Steve drove them to a small ice cream parlor that was tucked away in the city on his motorcycle, a vehicle that Y/n had never expected to get on willingly. Steve got the classic chocolate sundae, while Y/n got a vanilla sundae with chocolate syrup, sprinkles, and a cherry on top.

They then went to the park to watch the beautiful sunset and enjoy their sundae. The sun, a fiery orb of warmth and light, dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky with two shades of orange and pink.

Y/n and Steve watched the breathtaking scene in comfortable silence. The park was lively with kids playing, the distance hum of cars, and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Y/n's vanilla sundae sat untouched. His mind was elsewhere, consumed by the disappointment and hurt he felt over Tony's absence. Steve, on the other hand, enjoyed his chocolate sundae, taking slow, deliberate bites of it.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" The super soldier broke the silence, his eyes shifting over.

"Yup," Y/n murmured, his e/c eyes taking in the stunning view. "It's like a painting."

Steve smiled, nodding his head in agreement. He then spoke again, his voice deadly serious. "So, what's going on? You've seemed a little down lately."

Y/n let out a sigh, knowing there was no point in lying to Steve. "It's my dad. I just feel like he always puts Peter first. It's like I'm not even his real son sometimes."

The blonde's expression softened, and he placed a comforting hand on Y/n's shoulder. "I know it's tough, but try not to take it personally. Your dad has a unique relationship with Peter, but that doesn't diminish his love for you. You're his son."

He sighed again, "I know but it's hard not to feel overshadowed sometimes. Peter gets all the attention, and I'm just... here."

"Your dad may not always show it, but he's proud of you, Y/n," Steve assured him. "And I know that he loves you very much. Sometimes, parents just need a little reminder that their kids need them."

Y/n nodded, but he couldn't help feeling skeptical. After all, actions spoke louder than words, and Tony's actions indicated that he loved Peter more than him. Like Y/n would always come second to Peter.

But he didn't feel like dwelling on Tony's absence anymore. Instead, he turned his attention back to the sunset, watching as the last sliver of the sun disappeared behind the horizon. The sky grew darker, the colors of the sunset fading into the twilight. He didn't get the opportunity to spend the evening with his father as he planned, but at least he had spent it with someone who cared about him deeply.

And that made him smile.

XXXXX XXXXX

The next morning, Y/n found himself in the kitchen, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. The events of the previous day still weighed heavily on his mind, leaving a bitter taste that even the strongest brew couldn't mask. He wanted to confront his dad about his behavior, but at the same time, he didn't want to talk to him after what happened.

As he added a dash of sugar to his cup, the familiar clanking of Tony's footsteps drew closer. He saw his father enter the kitchen, but Y/n leaned against the counter, his back stiff and his gaze fixed on the windows. He deliberately avoided greeting his dad as he would usually do.

"Morning, Y/n," Tony greeted politely, but Y/n remained quiet, his back still turned. Feeling perplexed by the cold shoulder, Tony frowned. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Y/n replied, voice low and dismissive as he finished his coffee and placed the cup in the sink.

Y/n moved forward, attempting to leave the kitchen, but Tony stepped in front of him, unsatisfied with the response. "I'm your father. It's my job to be concerned."

Y/n's laughter rang out, harsh and bitter as if Tony had just told him a funny joke. "That is quite ironic coming from you."

The frown on Tony's features deepened. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Y/n's voice was quiet, "that lately, you've been anything but a father to me. But I can't say the same for Peter tho. You literally drop everything for him, but you can't even remember our plans."

Tony took a step forward, his tone rising defensively. "That's not true, Y/n. I do my best to be there for both of you. I juggle a lot, but I make time for you when I can."

Y/n's gaze didn't waver and he cocked his head to the side. "You make time for me? Then where were you last evening?"

"I took Peter to the science fair."

"Even though we had plans to go to the movies?" The younger man pointed out.

Tony's eyebrows furrowed as realization dawned, shame washing over his face. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I know we had plans, but Peter needed me. I couldn't leave him."

The two Starks were so busy arguing that neither of them noticed a stealthy figure that managed to infiltrate the compound, temporarily disable Friday, and had a knockout device in their hand.

"Peter needed you?" Y/n shook his head, his voice thick with hurt. Why did he forget about me? "What about what I need? You're my dad, not his. I need you."

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You have me every day, Y/n. Don't you see that I am always here for you?"

"Are you, Dad?!" Y/n's voice rose to a shout. "When was the last time we spent quality time together, just the two of us? When was the last time you and I had a real conversation that wasn't about your work or Peter? When was the last time you asked about what's going on in my life? You probably don't even know that my birthday is in two days. I'll be turning twenty-three, by the way. You don't know that one of my art pieces was presented at the museum you found too boring to visit. And you don't know that I made the Dean's List in school for the third year in a row!" Y/n's voice dropped to a whisper, but the words still stung like acid. "Mom would never treat me the way you do."

Tony flinched as if struck, his eyes widening at the mention of Y/n's mother. The weight of his son's words hit him like a physical blow, and he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the room began to fill with a thick fog.

Y/n noticed it too, confusion clouding his face. But as more of the mysterious substance was released into the air, he dropped to his knees, his vision blurring. Tony staggered and slumped against the kitchen counter, his eyes falling shut.

And then, everything went dark. The gas in the room caused both father and son to collapse, slumping to the floor hard.

Later, once Y/n regained consciousness, his head pounded as he tried to piece together what happened. The last thing he remembered was the argument with Tony in the kitchen, and then everything went dark. But now, he found himself in an unfamiliar room, dimly lit by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The walls were made of rough concrete, and the floor was cold and hard beneath him.

"Y/n? Can you hear me?" Tony's voice, filled with concern, reached him, and he turned to see his father hovering nearby.

"Dad?" Y/n's throat was dry and scratchy as he tried to sit up, but dizziness forced him to lay back down. It's overwhelming.

Tony helped Y/n into a seated position against the concrete wall. "Easy there."

Y/n looked around. "Where are we?"

"I'm not sure," Tony admitted, his gaze scanning the room for any clues. "But it appears that we have been kidnapped."

Y/n's heart pounded in his chest as the reality of their situation sank in. Oh crap. He couldn't believe that they were in this predicament, but he didn’t know why he was completely surprised. Since he was a Stark, people have always attempted to kidnap him since the day he was born, but this was the first time someone had successfully managed to kidnap him.

And he couldn't shake the feeling that it was somehow his fault. If only he hadn't argued with his dad, they wouldn't have been distracted when their captor struck.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," Tony apologized, his eyes filled with remorse, and Y/n was slightly taken aback because he hadn’t been expecting that. "I should have been there for you more. I let my work and my relationship with Peter overshadow our bond. That was wrong of me to do that."

Y/n eyes drifted to his hands, clasped in his lap. "You know, it hurt every time you chose Peter over me," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I don't understand why you always favor him. Why is everything he does amazing, but when it comes to me, you're never satisfied? Was it something that I did wrong? Or didn't do? Because I can change if it means you'll love me."

Tony shook his head vigorously, moving closer to his son. "No, Y/n. I don't want you to change for anyone, especially not for me. I can admit that I haven't always handled things perfectly. Peter reminds me of myself at his age, and sometimes I get caught up in my own nostalgia. But that doesn't mean I love you any less, Y/n. You're my son. I'd do anything for you."

Y/n's heart swelled at his father's words. He forgave Tony the moment the words "I'm sorry" exited his lips. Y/n had never been one to hold grudges, and now that Tony had acknowledged his mistakes, he hoped that they could finally move forward and rebuild their relationship.

Y/n wrapped his arms around Tony, who reciprocated the gesture. "I just want to spend more time with you," he muttered. "You know, do all that father-son stuff."

"And we will," Tony promised, pulling away. "As soon as we get out of here, I'll clear my schedule for the next month. We can go to the Bahamas. The water is beautiful, and I know they have amazing art exhibits there. It can be my birthday present to you. It'll be just the two of us."

It was impossible for Y/n to refrain from allowing the corners of his mouth to curl upward into a smile. He experienced a sense of optimism for the first time in a long time. As he looked into his father's eyes, he was certain that he would fulfill his promise. Y/n couldn't help but feel like a ten-year-old on Christmas morning.

"I'd like that, but how are we going to get out of here?" That was the big question.

Tony smirked. "Leave that to my team."

He informed Y/n through sign language that he had a secret tracker implanted in his watch, which had been confiscated. The Avengers were aware of the tracker, so it wouldn't be long before they arrived.

And then, as if on cue, the door to the room they were in flew off its hinges by a man getting thrown through it. Then, Steve walked into the room, dressed in his Captain America outfit. Steve threw his shield at the cell the Starks were in, allowing the two men to finally escape.

"Tony, Y/n, are you guys okay?" Steve walked over to them and started looking for signs of harm or injuries of any kind, but was relieved that he didn’t find one.

"Just peachy," Tony assured the blonde, grabbing his watch from a nearby table and taking Y/n's arm. They rushed out of the building, with Steve leading the way.

As the three made their way out, Y/n heard the sounds of gunfire, screaming, and growling echoing in the air. The Hulk was in full force, dismantling one of the kidnappers, while the other Avengers fought alongside him. Steve sprang back into action, and Tony transformed his watch into an Iron Man glove, joining the fighting. Even Spider-Man was there, taking out multiple opponents with ease.

But in the chaos, Y/n spotted a gunman aiming at Spider-Man from a distance. Acting without hesitation, he pushed Spider-Man out of the way, taking the bullet meant for him. The gunshot tore through Y/n's stomach, and he fell to the ground, eyes widening in shock and pain.

Tony had just fired a beam of light from his repulsor, sending the man flying into the nearby truck. But as he did, he heard the crack of a gunshot. He looked over to see where the shot had come from.

And his heart dropped to his stomach.

Y/n had been shot.

The bullet had pierced Y/n’s stomach, and blood was already soaking through his shirt, dripping onto the ground below.

"No, Y/n!" Tony screamed, running over as Steve hurled his shield at the shooter. Tony caught Y/n just as he began to fall, blood seeping through Tony's fingers as he peeled off his jacket and pressed it against the wound. Y/n trembled in his arms, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

"D-Dad."

"I know, I know, it's going to be okay," he whispered, his voice thick and his eyes shone with unshed tears. "You're going to be okay, I promise." His jaw clenched as he peered over at his teammates who had finally finished their fight and were rushing over. "Get us to a hospital, now!"

They didn't need to be told twice. Steve moved forward and quickly helped Tony carry Y/n to the Quinjet, with the other Avengers following closely behind them. Once inside, Natasha took her place in the pilot seat and Clint sat in the co-pilot seat next to her. Natasha quickly turned on the controls and maneuvered the jet into the air above, racing to the hospital.

The Quinjet soared through the sky, the city a blur below. Inside, the atmosphere was filled with worry. Everyone watched as Iron Man tried to help his injured son. Tony refused to let go of Y/n, his hands shaking as he tried to stop the bleeding, mind racing with fear and desperation. He had faced countless dangers as Iron Man, but nothing compared to the fear he felt at the thought of losing his son.

Finally, the Quinjet landed on the rooftop helipad of Metro-General Hospital, and Steve and Bruce rushed out, carrying Y/n on a stretcher. Tony was right beside him, keeping his hands clasped in Y/n’s.

"We need a doctor, now!" Tony shouted as they burst through the hospital doors.

Immediately, a group of two doctors and two nurses came over, taking over Y/n's care and wheeling him away. And Tony was beside them, still holding his hand.

"What happened?" One of them asked.

"Some idiot shot him," Tony explained.

The medical team wheeled Y/n into the operating room fast. The female nurse commented how Y/n had a weak pulse rate as the group of medical specialists lifted him onto the bed. Tony held onto his hands, tears welling up in his eyes.

The male doctor assessed the situation, noticing a smaller entry wound in Y/n’s upper right back and a larger exit wound in his abdomen. "Lungs failing," he said, his voice steady but grave. "Start an I.V. — two units of O, stat." The female nurse hurried off to fulfill the order. The female doctor asked for adrenalin, and the male nurse rushed to comply with the request.

Tony stood by his son's side, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the doctor's work. He couldn't remember a time he prayed, but he found himself silently pleading with any higher power that might be listening to spare his son's life. "Hang in there, son," he whispered.

Y/n struggled to speak, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t think I’ll make it."

The billionaire's heart broke a little more. "Don't you dare die on me." Tony's voice was borderline pleading, begging for his son not to leave him. He has to survive.

But as the doctors worked frantically to save Y/n's life, his condition continued to deteriorate, his grip on Tony's hand weakening. "Dad," Y/n whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm so cold."

Hearing this, Tony couldn't hold back his tears, which fell onto his son's hand. "I-I-I can't feel my legs," he continued, making Tony feel an enormous sense of dread and despair. He wanted to leave, unable to continue witnessing his greatest fear unfolding before his eyes. However, Y/n gripped Tony's hand tightly. "D-Don't go." Their eyes met, and Y/n let out a gasp before managing to utter three words.

"I love you."

The heart monitor's steady beep began to slow, then faltered, finally falling silent as Y/n slipped into full arrest. Tony cried out, "Oh god." His hand clamped over his mouth as he watched his son flatlined.

"Full arrest. Paddles!" The male doctor shouted, and the female doctor brought over the paddle machine. Tony stepped back as he witnessed the scene unfold. The lady squirted gel on a paddle, and the male rubbed them together. "Clear!" He yelled and used the paddles on Y/n.

But it didn't work.

"Recharge," he barked, and she obeyed. "Clear!" He used the paddles once again.

Still, Y/n’s heart did not respond and the heart monitor remained silent. His grip fully weakened in Tony’s hand, and his eyes remained unmoving. Sadly, it was officially. Y/n, son of the billionaire, was dead. The male doctor looked at Tony with a mix of sympathy and sadness.

"I’m so sorry," the male doctor voiced.

And, just like that, Tony Stark broke.

He leaned over Y/n, his body heavy with grief, tears streaming down his face as he clutched his son's lifeless hand. The pain in his chest was unbearable as if his own heart had stopped beating. He couldn't believe his only child was gone.

Now, he would never witness his son's college graduation, celebrate another birthday, see him walk down the aisle, or become a dad himself. Y/n was gone, and Tony would never see his son again.

And Tony felt like he had died too.

His sobs echoed through the hospital room, a sound so full of anger and pain that it seemed to pierce the very air. The doctors and nurses quietly left the room, deciding to let the genius grieve alone.

"Y/n," he choked out, his voice breaking on his son's name. "Please... come back. I can't… I can't live life without you here."

But he knew that his son wasn't coming back, no matter how much he'd beg for it. That thought was unimaginable, a nightmare from which he couldn't wake.

He had failed his son, failed to keep him safe, and now, Tony was forced to face a world without the h/c haired male in it.

It was bad enough that the genius had been such a shitty dad to choose Peter over Y/n, but now he wouldn’t be able to show Y/n that he was fully committed to changing, to being the dad Y/n deserved.

That made his sobs grow louder.

The Avengers entered the room, their faces etched with sorrow. Each of them had faced countless battles, but nothing could have prepared them for the pain of watching one of their own lose a child.

Steve placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort for his friend. He knew that no words could ease the pain of such a loss, but he hoped that his presence would offer some solace. He took a moment to say a silent prayer for the man who was like a son to him.

Natasha's stoic expression cracked, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She had seen death countless times in her work, but this — this was different. This was one of their own, a part of their family.

Sam also couldn't hold back his tears. His vision blurred, and he wiped them away, not wanting to add to Tony's pain. But the pain was there, a dull ache in his chest that echoed the grief of his friend.

Clint had to look away, his jaw clenched. He had lost people before, but this was different. This was a young man, full of life, who left this cruel world too soon.

Bruce stood with his hands clasped in front of him. His eyes were downcast, but there was a hint of green in his eyes. He couldn't imagine the pain of losing a child, especially someone so wonderful.

Peter was the most visibly shaken and he felt somewhat responsible. If he had been more aware of his surroundings and saw the hidden shooter, then Y/n wouldn't have taken the bullet for him.

Parents shouldn’t have to bury their child, but Tony was going to bury his.

Tony's fingers trembled as he closed Y/n's eyes. "I’m sorry, son," his voice was a broken whisper. "I love you so, so much."

For Y/n, the light had gone out. For Tony, the darkness has never felt so complete.

XXXXX XXXXX

#avengers x reader #avengers x male reader #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x male reader #tony stark x son reader #tony stark x son!reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark imagine #son reader #x son!reader #x son reader #platonic #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #male reader imagine

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signoferoda · 8 months ago

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Bestiee loved all your stories u have written!💗 can I request a angsty one shot?? Like H has being neglecting reader nd one time she made dinner for him nd he came late nd she was so sad but she didn't said anything cause she didn't want to be a burden so h came nd sees her sleeping on couch nd dinner was on the dining table nd then apologize to her for the way he was behaving nd it ends with smut??

I don't know if u would like this idea but if u comfortable writing this I would love to read it:)

enjoy! I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting so long :(

***

The cool autumn air drifted through the slightly open window of the cozy apartment, carrying with it the faint scent of the pumpkin spice candle burning on the coffee table. Y/N stood in the kitchen, glancing at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. The soft hum of the oven filled the silence, a stark contrast to the lively chatter that usually filled their home.

Harry had been distant lately. Late nights at the studio had turned into missed dinners and brief, half-hearted conversations. Y/N couldn't remember the last time they'd shared a meal or even a genuine moment together. Tonight was supposed to be different. She had spent hours preparing Harry's favourite meal, hoping it might remind him of the love and warmth they once shared.

She glanced at the clock again. 10:15 PM. Her heart sank a little deeper with each passing minute. She had texted him earlier, reminding him about dinner, but his response had been the usual vague promise: "I'll try to make it."

Y/N set the table, placing the freshly baked lasagna in the centre. The salad was already wilting, and the wine had lost its chill. She sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. She didn't want to be a burden, to nag him about spending time together. She knew how hard he was working, how much he wanted to succeed. But it hurt, nonetheless.

Finally, the front door creaked open, and Harry stepped in, looking exhausted. His tie was loosened, and his hair was a disheveled mess. He paused in the doorway, his eyes immediately drawn to the untouched dinner and the solitary place setting.

"Y/N?" he called softly, his voice heavy with fatigue.

No response. He walked further into the apartment, spotting her curled up on the couch, asleep. Her face was a picture of peaceful slumber, but he could see the traces of disappointment etched in her features. Guilt gnawed at him as he realised just how much he'd been neglecting her.

Harry quietly approached her, crouching down to brush a stray hair from her face. She stirred slightly but didn't wake. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"I'm so sorry, love," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry for everything."

He took a moment to compose himself, then stood and walked back to the kitchen. The sight of the meticulously prepared meal made his chest tighten. She had gone through all this trouble for him, and he hadn't even had the decency to show up on time. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her this vulnerable, and it shattered him.

Harry carefully reheated the lasagna, wanting to at least try and salvage some part of her effort. As the oven worked its magic, he poured himself a glass of wine and took a long sip, reflecting on how distant he had become. He missed her. He missed them.

When the food was ready, he filled a plate and brought it to the couch. Sitting down beside her, he gently shook her shoulder. "Y/N, wake up, love."

Her eyes fluttered open, confusion giving way to surprise as she saw him holding the plate of food. "Harry?" she murmured, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "What time is it?"

"It's late," he admitted, his voice soft. "I’m sorry I missed dinner. But I'm here now."

She looked at the plate and then back at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I... I didn't want to bother you. I know how busy you've been with the album."

Harry placed the plate on the coffee table and took her hands in his. "You could never be a bother to me, Y/N. I've been an idiot, pushing you aside for work. I thought I was doing it for us, but I see now that I've only been hurting you."

Tears finally spilled down her cheeks, and Harry pulled her into a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I promise I'll do better. You mean everything to me, and I can't keep neglecting you like this."

She clung to him, the weight of her loneliness slowly lifting. "I just missed you, Harry. I miss us."

"I miss us too," he said, pulling back to look into her eyes. "Let's make it right, starting now. How about we share this meal together?"

She nodded, a small smile breaking through her tears. "I'd like that."

They sat on the couch, sharing the reheated lasagna and sipping the now-warm wine. The food was delicious, but more than that, it was the warmth of their rekindled connection that filled the room. They talked, really talked, for the first time in what felt like forever. And as the night wore on, the distance between them faded, replaced by a renewed promise of love and understanding.

Harry held her close as they finished the last of their meal, grateful for the second chance to make things right. He knew it wouldn't be easy, that they had a lot of healing to do. But with Y/N by his side, he felt hopeful. They had found their way back to each other, and that was a start.

#harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut

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kwanisms · 2 years ago

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Kinkuary 01 Yunho — Size kink // praise

➥ big d!ck bf!Yunho × tiny girlfriend!Reader summary: Yunho is big and strong and likes to play rough and manhandle his tiny girlfriend. wc: 4.2k (whew! Half of that is smut 🥴) warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, sexual content (minors dni!): oral (f receiving), fingering (she's gonna need it to take his monster c•ck), unprotected sex (use protection! Yunho and MC use the pull out method), praise (good girl, you're doing so well, etc), size kink (so reader is noticeably smaller than Yunho and he comments on it), Yunho cums on the readers stomach and licks it clean so cum eating ig, slight strength kink, some manhandling, reader loves Yunho's hands, monster c•ck Yunho, and I think that's all. pls let me know if I missed anything Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @candidupped Kinkuary full taglist: @baldi-2 @wonderfulshinee @lacie220900 @sup-dallyboy Ateez taglist: @2hodefender @babyhailey819 @foxylilbitch MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. Join the taglist!

a/n: this is a bit self indulgent as I am tiny compared to yunho and I want him to manhandle me and use his size and strength against me. This is also for @yoonguurt and my fellow size kink enthusiasts. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

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Your favorite thing about Yunho was how big he was compared to you. He was so tall, just over 6 feet tall, with broad shoulders and large hands. He easily towered over you.

Yunho's favorite thing about you was how tiny you were next to him. He loved it when you wore his shirts as they fit you like dresses, the hem coming down to the middle of your thighs. You looked so small and cute in his clothes.

Your second favorite thing about Yunho was that he was strong. Strong enough to lift you easily, throw you over his shoulder or just lift you onto the kitchen counter.

He also liked to throw you onto the bed. And you loved it when he did that.

Flipping through the channels of the TV proved fruitless as you found nothing decent or interesting to watch so you decided to put the TV on the channel where Music Bank was being broadcasted and settled into the cushions to eat your dinner and hopefully catch a glance of your massive boyfriend.

It didn't take long for ATEEZ to show up on stage, performing their newest title track. You watched Yunho as much as the cameramen allowed, smiling as he performed.

He was an incredible dancer, something you'd always admired about him. The way he moved and how easily the music seemed to flow through him was mesmerizing. You loved every second of it.

Of course, in watching him dance, the way his body moved always got your insides burning as your imagination tended to run wild.

You scarfed down the rest of your lasagna and watched the rest of their stage with rapt attention. Your eyes followed Yunho across the stage as the song continued. Although the camera would focus on the other members, you could only see your boyfriend.

It was during one part of the performance when the choreography had them hip thrust that your mind was made up. He'd unintentionally created this problem (the problem being in your panties) and when he came home, he'd fix it.

ATEEZ finished their performance to tumultuous applause and cheers which you unashamedly added to in the comfort of your own home. and the show slowly came to an end, you checked the time and hoped Yunho would be home soon.

Deciding to distract yourself, you chose to clean up, do the dishes, wipe down the counters, anything you could do to pass the time until your boyfriend came home.

You tried not to look at the time, hoping if you ignored it, time would move just a little faster.

You knew after music shows, the guys would head back to the KQ building, clean up, probably grab some food and relax for a while. Yunho was nothing if not consistent when it came to these little rituals and no more than three hours after the show ended, he sent you a text.

Puppy Hubby ♥️💕: hey angel. We just got done eating. Have you eaten? I'll bring you something if you haven't. I'm about to leave so I'll be there soon. I love you ♥️

You quickly finished what you were working on and ran to your shared bedroom to put your plan into action. You rushed around, throwing off your plain pajamas in favor of something more… alluring.

You pulled off your white cotton panties and searched through your drawer for a pair you knew Yunho would love and slid those on.

Snatching one of Yunho's tees, you pulled it on over your head and let it fall to your thighs before slipping on some of your favorite thigh highs and heading back out into the living room to wait for Yunho.

You sat on the couch, jumping at every sound, your heart pounding over the sound of the clock on the wall ticking each second as it slipped by.

Finally you heard the sound of beeping at the door and quickly scrambled, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on before Yunho had a chance to open the door. A commercial for fried chicken played on the screen as Yunho finally managed to open the door and stumble in. You glanced over and saw he was carrying a huge black duffel bag and a small black plastic bag.

He leaned against the door to shut it as he struggled to pull his trainers off before finally letting the duffel bag drop to the ground and untying his laces.

With one shoe off, he stood up, leaning his back against the wall, his eyes found yours and he immediately perked up, a smile spreading across his face.

"Baby!" he said as he tore off his other shoe, grabbed the duffel bag and hurried over to the couch, dropping the bag at the end of the sofa and sitting beside you, setting the plastic bag on the coffee table before he engulfed you in his warm embrace.

"I didn't think you were still up," he said breathlessly as he hugged you tightly, peering kisses all over your face, making you giggle. You smiled as he pulled back and quickly stood to unzip his coat and moved to put it away, tripping over the duffle bag.

You hid a laugh as he cursed and kicked the bag before returning to your side. His eyes fell onto what you were wearing and you could have sworn you saw his eyes darken momentarily before he plopped down next to you, resting his arm on the couch behind you.

"I wasn't sure if you'd eaten, so I brought you something," he said, gesturing to the plastic bag. You smiled, turning to look at him.

"You're always so thoughtful," you replied, getting to your feet and grabbing the bag. You took it to the kitchen, not aware of the way his eyes followed your figure or the way he licked his lips at the sight of you in nothing but his shirt and some thigh highs.

As you came back to the sofa, your eyes roamed his body as well. He was wearing a plain black tee and some gray sweatpants. If you didn't know your boyfriend better, you'd think he was trying to seduce you because he knew you loved it when he wore sweatpants. Especially the gray ones.

You moved to sit beside him but Yunho was faster, grabbing you by the waist and forcing you to sit on his lap instead of the cushion.

You let out a tiny surprised "oh" as you fell onto him but immediately melted against him as his arms wrapped around your waist and buried his face into your chest.

"You must be exhausted," you murmured, stroking his hair and smiling as he relaxed into your touch. "Mhm," he mumbled, the sound rumbled from his chest and you continued to stroke his hair, massaging his scalp as only you could do for him.

The stylists usually did this to promote hair growth but no one could do it the way you did. Yunho often asked you to massage his scalp after he had his hair dyed because he loved the way your fingers worked against his scalp. He loved the way your nails dragged against his skin and the slight tugs you gave him that almost had him groaning at the feeling.

It was no secret between the two of you Yunho loved to be rough and manhandle you but he liked it when you were rough back. He loved it when you pulled his hair and bit him as he fucked you senseless.

You could feel him start to grow hard under you as you massaged his scalp, tugging on his hair and raking your nails over his skin.

Yunho shifted you so you were straddling his lap, his face now pressed into your neck as you continued to massage him.

You tried to act innocent and like his hands sliding over your body wasn't affecting you but you'd be lying if you said you weren’t completely soaking your panties as his large hands grabbed your ass and slid down to caress your thighs.

You let out a sigh as you felt Yunho's mouth move against the skin of your throat, kissing, nipping, and licking. You tilted your head to the side, giving him more to explore as your hands continued to tug his hair. Yunho finally let out a groan, his hips bucking up into you and grinding his hard cock against your wet panties.

"Mm, fuck," you moaned, moving your own hips to chase his and grind down against him again.

You let out a gasp as Yunho’s hands grabbed your hips, guiding them to grind over his cock again. "You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart, do you?" he asked, pushing you back slightly so he could look you in the eyes.

His own were dark, pupils blown and clouded with an animalistic desire to ruin you, his tiny girlfriend.

"I think I have some idea," you whispered, grinding down against him again and watching as his eyes fluttered shut, lips parting as a moan came out. His head fell back against the cushions as you continued to grind on him, the material of your panties sticking to you, pressing against your clit.

"Yunnie," you whimpered, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you chased your orgasm.

Yunho's hands stopped you, grabbing your waist and lifting you slightly. "Nuh-uh," he said, shaking his head. "Not like this."

Before you could answer, Yunho had stood, throwing you over his shoulder and started carrying you to your shared bedroom.

Once inside, he hastily deposited you on the bed and reached for his drawstring, fingers stilling as he looked down and then back up with a devilish smirk.

"You made quite the mess, baby," he said as he slowly untied the drawstring of his pants, watching you watch him through heavy lids.

"Spread your legs for me," he said, moving his hands to your knees and encouraging you to move.

You did so slowly, parting your thighs and showing him the absolutely soaked through cloth that adorned your aching core.

Yunho tutted, moving one hand down between your thighs and running his thumb over the wet fabric. "My sweet little angel is all wet," he said softly, switching to two fingers as he dragged them back up, sending a shiver up your spine.

"This can't be comfortable," he added, hooking a finger under the material and pulling it back slightly, exposing your wet slit to the cool air.

"Is it uncomfortable, baby?" he asked, his fingers barely brushing against your hole. You nodded silently, looking up at him with pleading eyes asking him to remove your panties.

"Then let's just get rid of them, yeah?" he asked, leaning over and towering over you as he stood beside where you lay on your back.

You nodded as his hands moved, starting at your knees and sliding up the tops of your thighs before moving them to the sides of your hips and hooking his fingers under the waistband of your panties.

He maintained eye contact as he slowly pulled the fabric down, pulling the wet crotch away from your heat and sliding them further down your thighs, still as slowly as possible and smearing your arousal down the inside of your thighs.

You had no idea exactly how wet you had gotten earlier but it was apparent now that you were drenched.

Once your panties had been removed and discarded, Yunho's hands were back on your knees, pushing your legs apart and pushing them back slightly to expose your core to him.

Your eyes watched as he tore his gaze from your face to look between your thighs and he bit his lip, holding back the urge to groan at the sight of your slick skin and tiny hole waiting to be filled.

"Goddamn, is this all for me, tiny girl?" he asked, glancing back up to meet your gaze. You nodded again. "Yes," you managed to squeak out. "It's all for you," you added.

Yunho's smirk returned as his hands slid up the inside of your thighs and stopped just before your sex. "Fuck, I can't wait to ruin this pretty little pussy," he muttered, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. His words had your walls clenching around nothing, prompting you to wiggle your hips, begging for something.

"Please, Yunho," you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes. "Please touch me."

The sound Yunho let out sounded somewhere between a moan and a growl as he dropped to his knees beside the bed, pulling your hips to the edge of the mattress and started pressing slow, deliberate kisses along the inside of your thigh, moving closer and closer to your core only to pass over it and spread kisses along the inside of your other thigh.

You let out a whine, one hand moving to brush your boyfriend’s hair back before settling on his cheek, prompting him to look up at you from between your thighs.

The hungry look in his eyes had heat spreading throughout your body. You wanted nothing more than for him to dive in and abuse your clit with his tongue but you knew he was a man of patience and liked to take his time with you and that's exactly what he was going to do.

When he finally tore his gaze from your face, it was to press light, feathery kisses on either side of your sex before his tongue slipped between your lips, finding your clit and immediately swirling around it in slow, even circles.

His light touches from before paired with the teasing kisses to your thighs made your body sensitive to every lick and flick of his tongue against the sensitive nub, your thighs threatening to close on his head. Thankfully, Yunho was much stronger and kept your thighs in place while he continued toying and teasing your clit and slit.

Your fingers combed through Yunho’s hair as he looked up at you with a heavy lidded stare. His fingers toyed with your entrance before finally pushing one finger in slowly, making you hiss at the intrusion, legs spreading further for him. “That’s it baby,” he breathed. “Such a good girl for me.”

You mewled, words failing as his finger continued to pump in and out of you slowly, his tongue dragging over your clit again. “You gonna cum for me?” He asked softly, chuckling when you nodded with a whine.

“Fuck, angel, you’re doing so well,” he murmured, teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking on it. Your thighs shook, a small cry sounding from the back of your throat as he added a second finger, lightly scissoring them, preparing you to take his cock. He learned from past experience you needed a decent amount of prep before he could even get the head in.

The lewd sounds coming from between your thighs had your skin heating up, a blush blossoming over your cheeks with every squelch. “Yunhooo,” you whined, drawing out his name.

You heard him chuckled, his hot breath fanning over your wet core. “You’re so wet for me, little one,” he muttered, fingers pistoning into you at a much quicker pace. “I can’t wait to split you open.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, walls gripping his fingers tightly as you imagined it was his huge cock instead. Yunho cursed under his breath, watching the way his fingers disappeared inside you.

“Think you can take another one?” He asked, looking up past your rising and falling chest as you struggled to breathe evenly. Without letting you answer, he added a third finger, hissing as your soaking cunt sucked him in, his tongue back on your clit as he continued to finger fuck your hole.

“Shit, ‘m gonna cum” you moaned, back arching as you felt the tension build in your lower abdomen, like a rubber band being pulled back until it snapped and you came with a whine, muttering your boyfriend’s name as your hips moved, riding out your high as it washed over you.

Yunho removed his fingers, more than willing to let you use his tongue, flattening it as you rode out the waves of your orgasm until your body shuddered and he pulled away, chin and lips coated in your arousal.

You blinked up at him as he climbed onto the bed, hovering over your small frame, dipping down to kiss you, his tongue slipping into your mouth and allowing you to taste yourself.

“Come here,” he purred, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you up easily, scooting you further back on the bed. “As much as I love seeing you in my clothes, little one, let’s take this off, shall we?” He said softly, fingers skimming your hips as he grabbed the fabric of the shirt you’d stolen.

You said up, allowing him to slip it off and drop it off the bed onto the floor. He’d clean up later.

You laid back against the sheets now completely bare as Yunho kneeled between your thighs, his large hands holding your waist and pulling you against him, pressing his hard on against you. You pouted, looking up at your large boyfriend who merely smiled at your pout.

“What’s wrong, little one?” he cooed, peering down at you as his hands moved, sliding up your body until he cupped your chest, thumb brushing over your hardened nipples. “You’re still wearing clothes,” you murmured, hands reaching out to brush against his stomach over the plain tee he wore.

He chuckled softly, moving his hand to take yours, marveling at the sheer difference in size.

He ducked his head down, turning your hand over in his and pressing a kiss to your palm. “Do you want me to take this off?” He asked, grabbing the hem of his shirt with his other hand, his smile widening as you nodded.

“Oh, alright, baby,” he cooed and released your hand, grabbing the back of his collar and pulling his shirt off easily, discarding it on the floor.

Your eyes roamed his body from his broad shoulders down his chest to his tummy where you could see the start of a trail of hair leading down past the waistband of his sweats. Your eyes raised back up to meet his gaze, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as a smirk formed on his lips.

“You like what you see?” He asked softly, leaning over, rolling his hips into yours, pressing his erection into your wet heat. You nodded, not trusting your voice to speak. “You wanna see more?” He whispered, lips ghosting over yours, chuckling when you moaned and nodded again.

He pulled back, settling back on his heels as he kneeled between your thighs. His hands moved to the waistband of his sweats, thumbs hooking under the material and pushing them down along with his boxers.

He moved slowly, maintaining eye contact as a way to tease you. You started to get impatient, moving to push your foot against his hip. “Baby~” you mewled. “Don’t tease.”

Yunho’s smirk spread and he pushed his pants down quickly, his cock springing free. You barely had time to look as he moved to discard his sweats and underwear but was back between your legs quickly.

You licked your lips as he hooked his arms under your knees, pulling your body flush with his before guiding his cock to lay against your stomach. “I know I ask this every time,” he said in a husky voice, looking down at his length resting against you, almost reaching your navel. “But you sure you can take all of this, angel?”

You glanced down at his cock, moving your hand to take it in your hand and making him hiss at the contact.

You could only give him a couple good strokes before he took your hand, grabbing both wrists in one hand and pinning them to the mattress. “Yes,” you squeaked. “I can take it.”

Your words paired with the way you looked up at him had his heart pounding, the animalistic urge to just ram his cock into you and fuck you until you went dumb came over him but he managed to resist.

This time.

Instead, he pulled back slightly, guiding the tip of his cock to your waiting slit. Your body shuddered as he rubbed against your folds, pressing against your clit lightly before he slowly started to sink into your cunt.

On instinct, you spread your legs wider to accommodate him as he leaned further over you.

Your lips parted as a moan slipped out, each inch he gave you stretching you out. It didn’t matter how many times you took his cock, it was always still a task to get the whole length inside you.

Yunho paused, hand still pinning your wrists above your head, the other hand moving to brace his weight so he wouldn’t crush you against the mattress. “Fuuuuuck,” he hissed, eyes fluttering shut as your walls squeezed him, enticing him in further. He had to take a few breaths, trying to regain his composure. His cock twitched, threatening to blow his load immediately.

It didn’t matter how many times he gave you his cock, you were still just as tight as the first time he fucked you.

“Yunnie, please,” you whimpered, hips rolling up to meet his, allowing him to slide in further. “Please, more.”

The way you looked under him, so small and already looking so fucked out, spurred him. He pressed further into you, sliding in with ease thanks to your earlier orgasm and his prep work.

It only took a few more moments until he was buried fully inside you. “Fuck me,” he groaned, cock twitching as you squeezed around him. His eyes dropped, falling onto the slight bulge just under your belly button.

“Would you look at that,” Yunho chuckled, moving his free hand to press down on it. You let out a moan, pussy clenching his length and drawing a moan from him. “Keep doing that and I won’t be able to hold back,” he hissed. You whimpered, thighs tightening around his hips. “Don’t hold back, Yunnie,” you cooed, raising your hips, trying to fuck yourself on him.

Yunho released your wrists, placing both hands on the mattress and pulling out slightly, only to thrust back into you, making you cry out as your body shifted up the sheets from the force.

Yunho chuckled darkly, his hands gripping your hips as he held you still, pulling back and thrusting into you again. “Oh, fuck,” you cursed, your own hands moving to grab his wrists.

“Keep going,” you moaned. “Don’t stop.”

Obliging your request, Yunho set a steady but heavy pace, thrusting sharply into you, each drag of his cock had you moaning, your grip on his wrists tightening as you tried to ground yourself.

“You’re taking me so well,” Yunho panted, eyes falling between your legs where he watched himself disappear inside your body repeatedly. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, eyes fluttering shut. “’m not gonna last,” he added, opening his eyes to look down at you.

“Cum for me, then,” you moaned but he shook his head. “Not until you’ve cum on this cock like a good girl,” he groaned, pulling your hips to meet his thrusts. One of your hands moved, grabbing a fistful of the sheets under you as you cried out.

“You cum for me first,” Yunho argued, increasing speed as he felt your cunt spasm around him. “That’s it. You’re doing so good, angel,” he continued, eyes shutting as he lost himself in the feeling. “Fuck! Be a good little girl and cum on my cock,” he growled, chasing his high as your orgasm crashed over you.

You let out a cry of his name, moans slipping out between curses as he helped you ride out your second orgasm.

“Fuuuuck,” Yunho hissed, feeling his own climax approaching. “Shit!”

You gasped as he pulled out of you, just in time to release all over your stomach, his hand gripping his cock as he squeezed every last drop out.

Looking down at the mess he created, Yunho couldn’t help but chuckle as he tried to regain control of his breathing. “S-sorry baby,” he stuttered. You glanced down at your stomach and back up at him. Your hands moved, reaching up for him. “S’okay,” you muttered sleepily.

Yunho laced his fingers with yours and brought each hand up, kissing the back of them before he released his grip. “I really made a mess,” he said, clicking his tongue disapprovingly at his own actions.

You opened your mouth to respond but gasped when he leaned over, dragging his tongue over your skin, lapping up his own essence. “Yunho!” You whispered, in awe of what he’d just done. He drew level with you, taking your cheeks in his hand and squeezed, forcing your mouth open.

His tongue entered your mouth, depositing his cum on your own tongue, turning into a sloppy kiss.

“That was so dirty!” you hissed when he pulled back. He smiled cheekily at you, giving you a shrug.

“Yeah, but you liked it, so… that makes you just as nasty as me, tiny girl.”

#ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #jeong yunho #yunho scenarios #yunho imagines #yunho smut #yunho x reader #kwanisms kinkuary #kinkuary 2023

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dolliedyhard · 3 days ago

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MORE FURRIES. YAY!

I drew Ben! I don’t know if I really like the name “Ben Meowed”, I’m changing it because “Ben Drowned” is too morbid for this AU (ㆀ˘･з･˘). In this AU Trickster Ben is Ben’s alter ego, so they are the same person. Jeff really likes spaghetti :3 and lasagna, and pizza, and anything with marinara sauce🥫 XD. I wanted to draw that scenario bc I saw this vid on tiktok of a cat patting like a dog and IT WAS SO CUUUUUUTE! (๑>◡<๑)~♡ It’s pupils were so big, IT WAS SO HAPPY I SWEAR IF I HAD THE VID I WOULD SHARE IT BUT I DONT HAVE THE LINK ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡ Jeff looks like such a cutie :3. And no, he’s not gonna share a single noodle with Dollie :c xd

STACYYY! Yus, that is @bloodlessmp3 OC. I tried making her look like this cool cat I saw on Pinterest! I hope you like it Rev :b

Kittypasta is officially canon, so I’ll tell ya some stuff about it. All of the crp members are cats, kittens to be exact. They stay children forever, aging halts at 13 y/o (in human years). All of them were created in a lab by Splendorman. Originally he was trying to make better cat plushies for the kids he takes care of, but things went wrong, ala chemical x Professor Utoniom. The kitties are SUPER SOFT, like chinchilla soft. That’s all I have so far, the creepypastas I’ve added so far are Jeff the Meowster (snow leopard), Dollie (leopard), Ben Meowed (orange house cat), and if Rev is okay with it I’ll add Stacy (house cat).

That’s all… Stay frosty❄️ BAIIIIII!1!1!1!!!!!!!1!!!!

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pdouwes · 1 year ago

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You, the one I left behind, if you ever walk this way, come and find me lying in the bed I made.

#broadwayedit #musicaltheatreedit #musicalgifs #hadestowngifs #hadestown #hadestown the musical #hadestown broadway #eurydice #eva noblezada #mine #*g #(c) lasagna

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cupid-angels · 7 days ago

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Thanks for the tag @bleachbambi ᥫ᭡

Spell ur username with ur fav songs …

c - Carmen - Lana del Rey u - U belong with me - Taylor Swift p - Pocketful of Sunshine-Natasha Bedingfield i - I wanna be yours - Arctic Monkeys d - Die with a smile - Lady Gaga/Bruno Mars

a - All I wanted - Paramore n - National anthem - Lana del Rey g - Going under - Evanescence e - Enchanted - Taylor Swift l - Lithium - Evanescence s - Salvatore - Lana del Rey

Tags ౨ৎ⋆.˚ : @ballerinainterrupted @angelskisser @doeeyedgirl @dangeroustaintedflawed @lasagna-bagnata @lizzygrantdoll + anyone who wants to join ㅤ♡

#coquette #lana del rey #tag game #favorite songs #girlblogging #girl blogger #girlblog #just girly posts

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souliebird · 1 year ago

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[[and then I met you || ch. 9]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Words: 4.8k

"Matt…how did you know where the window is?"

The words leave your lips and the entire mood of the apartment shifts. Matt's frame stiffens and fear begins to course through you.

If the answer to the question was simple, he'd have no reason to react like he got caught in a lie, but that is exactly what he is doing. His posture is screaming that he knows you've realized something you shouldn't have, and it scares you. It scares you so much because you don't want Matt to be someone you can't trust.

You want so so badly to trust him. Everything was going so well, and you don't want it to be ruined so early. You haven't prepared your heart for that disappointment and instinctively you wrap your arms around yourself to stave off any potential pain.

"I can explain," Matt says, voice quiet and on the edge of pleading. He's looking at you with his own fear on his face and it triggers you to step back and away from him.

People have told you before that they can explain - that you are in the wrong for simply not understanding them - and it always ends with you hurt. So, you close your eyes and duck your chin to your chest and brace yourself for the metaphorical blow, whatever it may be.

But there is only silence.

No more than a minute of nothingness passes, but it feels like an eternity. You force your eyes open and are shocked to see Matt looking absolutely devastated. Instead of standing tall and confident in himself, like you are so used to seeing, he has completely deflated. His shoulders are slumped and his head hung. You can practically feel the self hating energy coming off of him - it is something you are so familiar with.

Guilt pools in your belly. You can't hurt him because of your distrust of others and past experiences - he's given you no reason to think anything he's doing is malicious or only self serving.

So, you take the ball back into your court, squeezing your eyes back shut and taking a deep breath before asking, "should…should we sit?"

You hear him inhale sharply and you really, really hope you are doing the right thing.

"Please?"

He sounds like he's trying to not beg, and the knot forming in your stomach squeezes around your heart.

"Can we sit on the couch?" You ask, motioning to it. You finally allow yourself to look at him again to see him nod. You lick your lips and hesitantly add, "it's about five feet to your left," before going to sit yourself. By the time you are sitting, Matt is at the back of the couch and moving around the side to sit next to you. You watch as his fingers brush along the back and arm, too anxious to dare to look at his face or the giant lasagna stain on his chest.

You let him settle before asking again, in a calmer tone, "How did you know where the window was? And that it was open?"

You feel so accusatory, but he's told you before he has absolutely no light perception and in the panic of the moment, he closed the window without any hesitation or confusion.

He rubs his hands over his knees before removing his glasses and setting them on the coffee table. He then leans back into the couch, while turning to face you, and to be respectful, you turn so you are facing him, though you keep your eyes down cast to your lap.

"I was a child when I lost my eyesight," he starts slowly, and you try to keep your stomach from clenching. "And whatever it was that got in my eyes, it enhanced my other senses. It took what remained and pushed them past what normal people should be able to do. I could hear conversations from blocks away. I could figure out what people had for lunch the day before by the smell still in their breath. I could feel what was happening around me, based on air movement on my skin. And now…. Now I can…I can use all of that, all those inputs, to act as kind of a 3D map to determine things. Like a sonar, but instead of just sound reflecting back, it's a bit of everything. I can't see with my eyes, but I do know what is happening around me. That's how I knew where the window was. I could feel the breeze coming in. I could hear where the noise came in more clearly, versus the slight muffling of the wall. I could sense where the couch was based on the same factors."

You take in what he is trying to tell you and nod just a tiny bit. What he is saying makes sense - kind of. You know it's possible for other people's senses to strengthen when they lose one, but not nearly to the degree he is explaining. It is a hard concept to wrap your mind around. But you try.

You can tell he's not used to explaining this and you can also tell he's waiting for you to be angry or upset with him. It's a feeling you are so very used to experiencing yourself - that you did something wrong, and the other person is going to leave. It's like it's tangible in the air.

You force your gaze up to Matt's face. His hazel eyes are truly windows to his soul, and he looks so scared that you are going to explode on him and your heart aches for him. You're by no means angry about him not telling you about this upfront - it's clear he's had issues with that in the past and it's not like you deserve to know all his trauma and secrets from day one just because you had his child.

But you are still confused and do want to understand.

You turn so are facing him even more fully and force words from your throat, "Can I ask you some questions?"

Matt nods his head, jerky with it, "Yes, anything."

You can tell he means it, and that eases your own anxiety. You rub at your thighs, needing to transfer your internal anxieties outward, and go for the first thing that comes to mind.

"You said…you can hear blocks away. What does that mean? You can hear everything in like...a two block radius?" You ask, hoping you aren't sounding like an absolute idiot.

Matt's lips twitch, like they want to go into a sad smile, but he keeps his face firmly in 'kicked puppy' territory, "A little more than two blocks. I haven't…tested the maximum range, but if I stand in the middle of Hell's Kitchen, I can hear almost all of it. Sort of - I learned to filter and push things into the background so it's not constant input. If I focus, I can hear the couple down the street debating about what they want for dinner. I can hear everyone in this building and the next. But it isn't just..." he trails off for a moment, biting his lip and wrinkling his brow. Like he's trying to figure out the right words. You wait, not wanting to rush him.

"It isn't just a macro experience; it is also micro. I can hear the way the pipes in your kitchen are creaking. The way your shirt brushes against your skin. The differences in your breath as you exhale…I can hear your lungs expand and contract. I can... Hear your heart - it was beating fast a few moments ago but it's started to calm. Or you're trying to keep calm. I can... Tell your adrenaline and fear are still high. You're nervous and I don't blame you."

Your brows scrunch up in disbelief, "you can…hear my heartbeat?" You look down at your own chest, reaching up to place your hand over your heart. You can feel it beating rather hard, but as Matt said, you feel like you are calming down now that the two of you are talking.

"I can hear your heartbeat," he confirms, then adds, "But I don't go around listening to those sorts of things. I try to give people their privacy."

That makes sense to you - you wouldn't want to constantly have to listen to people's body functions.

The thought triggers another question.

"Why aren't you a doctor?"

Matt opens his mouth as if to answer, then pauses as his expression morphs into bafflement. "What?"

"Why aren't you a doctor?" You repeat, then motion at him, "I mean, based on what you said, wouldn't it make sense to be a doctor?"

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, reminding you of a fish, before he shakes his head, finally, finally starting to smile again, "I, uh, never considered it. I've always wanted to be a lawyer, since I was a kid. I wanted to help people." He leans forward slightly, putting his elbows on his knees, "You learn I can hear your heartbeat and you ask why I'm not a doctor. Are you not…freaked out?"

"I mean, a little, yes," you admit with a shrug, "but also…" you look back down to your lap and clasp your hands together, squeezing a little too tightly, "You're telling me and…we're talking like adults about it. I get why you didn't tell me, and it's not like…it's not like it's something terrible. It's weird but…it's not the weirdest thing?" You bite into your lip, then, because your nature is to put everyone else's needs in front of yours, you can't help but ask, "Is there anything I can do to make things easier? I mean, is there anything in here that's too loud or something? Something I can adjust to make you more comfortable?"

He seems to need a minute to process what you are telling him before he shakes his head, "No. No, I've spent my life adjusting to everything." He takes a breath before his voice becomes a little softer, "I didn't want to hide this from you. Foggy and Karen know the truth and were helping me come up with a way to tell you that makes sense."

"You did a good job, it made sense," you quickly confirm. That makes him smile, just a little.

"I'm glad... they are also helping me make a binder, like you made for me. About everything," he mimics you, motioning to himself. "I'm hoping it will help you with Minnie."

You're confused at first why your daughter is mentioned, then the wheels quickly begin to turn.

Memories flash in your mind of Minnie saying things are too loud - all her weird little complaints you've heard since she started being able to articulate - and your stomach starts to turn as things start to slot into place.

She inherited Matt's senses.

It makes so much sense and you very suddenly feel like you need to throw up.

You scramble to stand up, clamping your hands over your mouth. Matt shoots up so he is standing beside you, reaching out to touch your arm while saying your name in concern.

"She's been trying to tell me,” you choke out. All of the emotion of the day is crashing into you. Your eyes are stinging, and you can feel the tears gathering.

You've been such an awful parent.

How could you have not listened to what she was saying? Toddlers say weird things, but she's been consistent about what she tells you and you thought it was just her imagination or exaggerations.

What has your poor baby been putting up with?

The thought of her suffering because her senses are being overwhelmed and you not helping her pushes you over the edge and you begin to cry.

Tears start to pour out of you and only years of training has you strangling the sob that tries to escape as well.

You see Matt move through blurry eyes and suddenly you are wrapped in his arms, tucked under his chin like Minnie had been.

"It's okay," he whispers into your temple, holding you firmly against his chest. You want to struggle because you are not used to being held when you cry. You aren't used to being held at all. You aren't used to crying around other people.

All of it is so much and it just makes you cry harder, awkwardly standing stiff as a board while Matt tries to comfort you.

"It's okay," he repeats, and you manage to shake your head, because none of it is okay. It isn't.

You think of all the tantrums that have resulted from her being overstimulated and try to imagine how awful she must have been feeling. You get headaches from things being just a little too loud and that has been all of her life - and you have no idea how much she can hear. Can she hear blocks away like her father can? How many horrible things has she heard that you don't know about?

How has it shaped her?

"Hey, hey, look at me," Matt says so softly you barely hear him over your own choked sobs. His hands go from holding you to his chest up to your face and he cups your jaw, gently forcing you to tilt your head up towards his. You squeeze your eyes shut, too ashamed of yourself to look right into his face. "You are an amazing mother. You care so much about Minnie and doing right by her. You said she's been trying to tell you and you've been listening. You have been. The headphones you got her? They do help. I promise you they help. Everything you do helps."

There's a gentle pressure against your forehead, and you realize Matt is touching his to yours. You can feel his nose brushing against your own. "I asked her at the park the other day what helps when things start getting too loud. Do you know what she said?"

You shake your head because you have no idea. You didn't even know they had talked without you present.

What else didn't you know about your daughter?

"She listens to your heart. When things get too much for her, she finds the thing that centers her and soothes her and that's the sound of your heart."

You try to process his words but it's another gut punch to your emotions. It's a swell of love for your sweet little angel with a mix of horror because how often has she needed to center herself on you?

Matt smooths his thumbs over your cheeks, pushing away tears that are still streaming down them. "You take such good care of her. It blew my mind the first time we were all together, that you're so attentive and loving. You care so much. I didn't understand how I was so lucky that you were the one I got to have a child with. Someone with such a good heart. I thought you must have been mistaken because I certainly don't deserve you. I don't deserve Minnie. But you let me in and I have been praying that I can be a fraction of what a good parent you are. Minnie loves you so much. You've done so good with her. You didn't know about her senses, but how could you, and you still did so much to help her. And now that you do know, I know you'll do everything within your power to help her. And I will as well. I promise. It's okay. She's okay."

You try to focus on Matt's words, but it is so hard. Your crying is quickly cascading from emotional crying to being completely panicked anxiety crying.

You aren't used to being comforted. You aren't used to people telling you it's okay and you did good. It's confusing and you don't know how to act. You don't know what you are supposed to do.

Are you supposed to calm down? How do you calm down? How do you just stop crying?

And his hands are so warm on your face. They are surprisingly rough, but they feel good, petting you so gently. He's so close everywhere - you're still right against him from when he was holding you. You can taste his breath.

It feels like he's right on top of you - he practically is - and you suddenly can't breathe. It feels like your esophagus has locked up and you can no longer swallow air.

Fear surges up your spine and before it can take hold, a low resonating bong goes through your mind, telling you to go get a glass of water.

It's something you've trained into your mind, taking years to perfect.

To prevent a panic attack, drink a glass of water.

"I need water," you manage to say before pulling away from Matt and go purposefully to the kitchen, ordering yourself to not rush. You have a specific glass you use on these occasions and pull it from the top shelf. You hear Matt follow you into the kitchen, but you force yourself to focus on getting out your water pitcher and pouring your glass of water. Your hands are shaking and water is splashing on the side of the glass.

Once it is full, you refill the pitcher and put it away, before returning to your glass. You drink slowly, taking a sip, swallowing, taking a breath, then repeating. Matt keeps his distance as he waits for you. He looks concerned and he keeps flexing his hands and you have to avert your gaze because it is making you anxious again.

Tears are still streaming down your face but with each breath, you regain control of your emotions. You pull them back in and reorganize your thoughts. First, you must deal in facts.

Fact - Matt has enhanced senses due to the accident where he lost his eyesight. Fact - Matt is Minnie's father. Fact - Minnie inherited Matt's enhanced senses. Fact - having enhanced senses can be overwhelming for your daughter and it causes tantrums.

These are your facts, one of which is a problem, the over stimulation, and you need to find a solution to it, but to find a solution you need to know the trigger.

You finish your glass of water and set it in the sink to wash later, then turn to face Matt. He looks so worried, but now that you are looking at him, he perks up - attentive and waiting for you to address him.

You wonder what signals your body is giving him - can he sense your change in demeanor?

"Do you know what upset her at dinner? Why she started crying?" You ask, hoping you don't sound like a complete mess.

Matt nods quickly, ready to explain, "the building behind us on this block's fire alarm started going off. Based on what I can tell, a rat chewed through a wire and set it off somehow. The second tantrum was from a fire truck arriving - it had it's sirens going off "

You stare at Matt in wonder. You heard none of that. The window was wide open and you didn't hear a siren at all, and if you did you automatically put it into the background of your mind.

"It was on the other side of the block," he says, like he knows exactly what you are thinking, "and we're facing the wrong direction. There's no chance you would have been able to hear it."

Your hands clench into fists at your side, dread starting to build up inside of you and threatening to pull more tears, "how can I protect her from things I can't hear?"

Matt's face softens into something understanding. He hesitantly steps forward, and as he reaches for you, you understand his love language is touch. He's trying to comfort you through touch, and by extension, comfort himself. This must be horrible for him, you realize with a start. He told you this big secret and you proceeded to freak the fuck out on him.

He needs comfort as well. He needs someone telling him it's okay.

You're being so selfish again.

He touches your arm and begins to ghost his fingers up and down it, barely pushing at the sleeves of your T-shirt. The back of his fingers are rough, but the sensation isn't terrible. You are still so unsure what you are supposed to do, so you take a breath and take a small step closer to him then decide the best course of action is to ignore the petting.

"You can't protect her, but we can help give her the tools to protect herself. She was born with it and has adapted naturally. I had to be taught and have had a lifetime to learn. That's why I want to make that guide for you. I fully intended to tell you everything, and still do," he ducks his head and becomes almost sheepish, “I was just…trying to do it in the right way?"

You absorb his words and let them roll around in your mind, ignoring for now the implication there are more people with enhanced senses than just Matt.

"You can teach her?" You confirm after a few moments.

"We can both teach her. I told you before, you've already helped so much. No one has ever gotten me sound proof headphones - and certainly not a dozen different pairs. We can talk to her together and she can tell us what she needs," he says and it does sound like he's thought this through.

And that brings you comfort.

He has a plan. He's coming at this prepared and with research and consultants.

He's committed.

You don't need to search for a solution because he already has one.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and your shoulders relax.

A literal sigh of relief.

"Thank you," you whisper and Matt quickly shakes his head, but before you can say anything, the larger red stain on his shirt catches your eye again and your Mom brain activates. "Matt, your shirt!"

He looks down at his chest, clearly confused by the sudden change in conversation and tone, "what about my shirt?"

"There's lasagna all over it. It's going to stain so badly. Here, let me get you another shirt," you pull away from him and start hurrying towards the bedroom. You wipe at your tears as you call back to him, "I think I can still get the stain out. It's still wet."

In the bedroom, Minnie has rolled over and is now face down on her bed, sprawled out like a starfish. You know from that she will not be awake until morning. She must be so exhausted, your poor Mouse. Guilt swirls in your belly and you vow you're going to learn to help prevent this.

You're not going to let her suffer any longer.

You look away from your daughter to rummage through your dresser. You grab one of your largest T-shirts and quickly leave the room, lest you disturb your daughter. You head back down the short hallway to the main living area, hoping what you got will be big enough for Matt.

You look up from your musings as you come around the corner and freeze.

Matt's taken his shirt off.

You are very intimately aware that he was in shape before, but this is a different level. His muscles are well defined and his biceps are at least as big as Minnie's head. You've never seen someone with v-cut abs in person and you feel your cheeks start to heat up because you are only human and your brain is definitely short circuiting.

You force your eyes away from how his hips disappear into his pants and up his chest.

There are scars, all across his torso, long and deliberate. They don't look surgical, even with the sight symmetry of some. Going over one of the smaller scars on his right side is a nasty bruise that seems to wrap around to his back. It looks painful and at least a few days old by the coloring.

Your instinct is to ask if he is alright, but you clamp it down.

You understand.

You understand this extension of trust, silent and hopeful but terrified, and you take it and cradle it to your heart. He will tell you in time. You have to trust him.

You have to trust whatever is blooming between the two of you.

But does he really need to be so insanely hot? Was it not complicated enough?

Matt calls your name, breaking you out of your thoughts. He sounds more than a little smug.

"Sorry, it has been a long day. Um, I think this will fit you," you step forward and hold it out, asking as you do, "Do I need to tell you where it is or…?"

He shakes his head with a chuckle, and you wonder how many times people have asked him such questions, "You can just toss it at me. It's okay, I understand."

You feel rude but do as you are told. He catches it easily, and after turning it over in his hands to orient it, pulls it on.

"What's it got on it?" He asks, rubbing his hands over his chest to feel the screen print, unintentionally emphasizing how broad he is.

You blame your slight delay in response on your exhaustion.

"It's... got the word 'cosmos' on it with a galaxy print behind it. It's from that old science show with um...I don't know his name. I just remember something about the universe being a pie?" You answer, wishing you'd actually looked at what you had grabbed him.

But Matt nods anyways, like he understands what you mean, "Carl Sagan?"

The name rings a bell, and you shrug, honestly not remembering in the moment, "I think that's it, I never was a big science person but the shirt was free..."

He chuckles at your answer and you have to look away from him, shuffling towards the couch instead. It isn't fair how good he looks. The shirt is one you wear every so often to sleep and now you very much understand the trope of men enjoying women wearing their t-shirts and you've already experienced too many emotions today to try to process that.

You plop down and put your head into your hands. Exhaustion is creeping into your bones and your eyes ache from crying and it feels like you've been hit with the emotional equivalent of an eighteen wheeler. You feel the couch dip as he sits beside you and a moment later, Matt's fingers are tracing up and down your spine. It feels like a feather and instead of locking up at the touch, you find yourself slumping more.

"How're you doing?" He asks and part of you wants to laugh.

"I don't know," you admit, "it is a lot to take in at once. I just want to make sure I'm doing the right thing - with Minnie. With you. Not just with…your senses, but with everything. I don't want to mess up."

"You won't mess up," Matt assures you and he sounds so confident that you want to believe him. "Things might not always be easy, but you won't mess up. I believe in you."

You don't know how to respond to that. You haven't had anyone tell you they believe in you in so long. It sends this sort of warmth through you that you don't understand and the only thing you can think of to do is hide your face more into your hands.

He doesn't press for more as you both sit there. The silence somehow isn't awkward, even as minutes start to creep by. He continues to run his fingers up and down your back and it doesn't take long for your eyes to start to feel heavy. You tell yourself to get up, you still have to clean up the mess from dinner, but your body doesn't listen.

You just want to sit.

All you want to do is just sit.

You'll get up in a minute. You just need to recharge. You keep telling yourself that, even as you feel your body start to sag and your thoughts start to fade in and out. You don't notice as your exhaustion starts to take over and you begin to drift - and you don't notice as Matt helps you lay down on the couch or when a blanket is draped over you.

As your thoughts finally allow sleep to take over, the last thing your mind lets you process is the brush of lips against your temple and gentle words whispered against your skin.

Tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium @

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#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then i met you

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