#charlie nelson smut

[editfandom]

Matt Murdock - Daredevil, 2015

[amberlynnmurdock]

Blind Faith (Ch. 14)

Chapter Fourteen: Revelations

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You have multiple revelations in your savior's room when you wake up.

Warnings: 18+ content, SMUT!!! unprotected sex, mentions of drugging, violence

A/N: OKAY HERE IT IS THE LARGEST UPDATE I HAVE EVER DONE. This bad boy is a whopping 9,678 words! Just some warnings/reminders: there is unprotected sex in this. Please read with caution and also (not to go all high school gym teacher on you) please practice safe sex in real life! OKAY LOL now that that's out of the way... ENJOY!

Tags at the end!

Ao3 Link

credit to gif owner!!!

New York City 

Matt Murdock’s Friday nights were usually meant for patrolling Hell’s Kitchen. He always sat up at the rooftop of his apartment—he spent most nights there, whether it be to escape reality for a little and live in his own head, or to listen into the city for any trouble or danger. The case was always the latter, of course. As he paced under a dark sky, and as raindrops began to trickle over the city, he sat hunched in the corner of the roof, listening. Only tonight, he was listening for something in particular.

As soon as he heard you enter a taxi that took you all the way to Zach’s apartment, he bolted from his rooftop and jumped from roof to roof, to roof, until he was finally caught up with the taxi, and you were stopping in front of Zach’s apartment. Careful not to be seen, he slid down a fire escape and ran to the side of the building, waiting as he listened for you to enter the elevator that took you all the way up to Zach’s apartment. 

Matt wasn’t new to sneaking around. He slipped into the apartment lobby without being seen. Instead of taking the elevator, Matt took the stairs. After reaching Zach’s floor, he noticed his apartment took up the entirety of it, and there were strangely no hallway cameras. He slipped inside the hall after you entered his apartment. Zach locked the door behind you. 

The only hard part about this mission was listening to you and Zach talking. He listened from outside the door, against the wall, patiently. Waiting for any indication that this was a bad scene, waiting for something for Zach to do or say that showed he was lying. He listened as you faked not being impressed by the view of the city, he listened as Zach showed you his library, he heard your subtle disappointment at not looking at the law books, he listened as you finished your glass of chardonnay, and graciously accepted a second glass. 

And then, he did hear something that piqued Matt’s interest—as Zach poured your second glass of wine, he reached for something in the pocket of his pants. A small pill container, the size of a quarter. Matt couldn’t smell what the pill was. He couldn’t tell which glass he let the pill dissolve in. Maybe it was a prescription for Zach. The two of you continued on with conversation—Matt’s heart jumped when you mentioned him and Foggy’s name—and his hands created fists at Zach’s answers. Everything seemed okay—maybe the pill was for Zach, but Matt needed that confirmation. 

The next few minutes happened so fast, as Matt was trying to piece it all together and make sense of the scene he was listening in on. 

“You okay?” He heard Zach ask. Matt’s brows furrowed underneath his black mask, and all his heightened senses were focused on you. Your hands weren’t moving—they were sweaty. Your breathing was beginning to get heavier. Your throat was dry suddenly. You could barely move, and you were struggling to find your voice. And when you did, Matt’s heart dropped, and he broke into a cold sweat. 

“Something’s not right,” he heard you utter weakly. Matt wanted to barge in there now, but he needed to make sure that what was happening was true, and with every bone in his body he prayed to God that it wasn’t what he thought. He listened as Zach offered to help you lay down on the couch, but it wasn’t until Zach whispered those words you wanted to lay down that his fears were confirmed true. 

Zach must’ve not heard Matt’s first attempts at kicking his door down. With all his might, Matt rammed his right foot at the door handle, kicking and kicking until he finally made a dent in it, and he was able to knock the door down. 

An all-encapsulating rage filled Matt’s bloodstream, it felt like—it felt like he wasn’t even in control of his body. The rage was controlling his movements. He stomped over to where Zach hovered over you, as he was unbuttoning his pants, and gripped Zach’s shoulders so hard he threw him onto the dining room table. 

Without thinking, he began to punch Zach in his stomach, in his arms, his jaw. Everywhere. 

“YOU DO NOT TOUCH HER!” Matt shouted as he gripped Zach’s shirt by the collar and yelled in his face. Pulling a punch back, his knuckles met Zach’s cheekbone, again and again and again. 

“CAN YOU HEAR ME?” Matt hollered above Zach’s groans in pain. “CAN YOU HEAR ME?!” Matt hadn’t yelled this hard since the last time he ever was in the same room as Wilson Fisk. Matt’s hands were trembling with rage. 

“Y-yes,” Zach cracked, coughing up some blood. Matt threw him back on the floor and knelt on his chest, pressing on a bruise Matt’s fists had formed. 

“Listen carefully,” Matt seethed, holding Zach’s face. “You will be disbarred,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ll find your pill bottles, and tie you to this overpriced dining table, and leave you until someone finds you.”

Matt punched Zach in his chest once more before asking, “Do you like how it feels to not be in control?”

He doesn’t let Zach answer. He throws him to the ground once more and does exactly what he said he would—instead of sensing for the pills, he sensed for the containers. After finding them, Matt dragged Zach’s beaten body to the table and tied him with the dining room tablecloth so tightly, that his arms would probably lose all sense of feeling in an hour. Matt threw the pill bottles in his lap. 

Feeling that cold sweat over himself again, Matt immediately ran to your side. You lay unconscious on the couch.

He whispered your name. 

“It’s me,” he said, even though he knew you couldn’t hear him, “I’m here.” He placed his fingers on your pulse—it was there, but it was slow and faint. 

Without wasting time, Matt took you in his arms and escaped Zach’s apartment down the stairs. There was nowhere else to go but his own. 

⠋⠁⠊⠞⠓

Matt busted down his rooftop access door and immediately rushed to his bed with you in his arms. Gently laying you down, he ripped off his mask and searched for his burner phone on the nightside table. 

“Claire,” Matt said hurriedly on the phone, “I know it’s late, but I need you.”

“Hi Matt, it’s nice to speak with you too,” Claire said sarcastically over the phone. 

“I have an emergency,” Matt said in a hushed tone. With one ear pressed to the phone, the other focused on you. You were lying so still, and your heartbeat was faint. He could tell your body temperature was rising into a fever. “Could you come to my apartment?”

“What’s wrong?” She asked with worry in her voice. “Are you hurt?” 

“Not me,” Matt shook his head, “it’s a young girl. Twenty-one. She was drugged and now she’s unconscious and I think she’s got a fever now.”

“Jesus, twenty-one? Why didn’t you take her to the hospital?”

“I—I can’t,” Matt said, “I’ll explain when you’re here. Just please come. I’m worried. Her heartbeat it’s… it’s slow. Like, really slow.”

“I’ll be right over.”

Matt clicked his phone shut and immediately went to kneel by your side. He took your delicate hand in his and held it to his lips, eyes closed. Your heart was so faint, it was a struggle for his senses to focus on it. Closing his eyes, Matt whispered a prayer against your hand.

“Be near her in time of weakness and pain, sustain us by your grace…”

Your skin felt so hot in his—it seemed your temperature had spiked. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “This shouldn’t have happened. Not to you.” And when he spoke these words, he wasn’t sure what exactly he was sorry for—he couldn’t narrow it down to one thing. He was sorry he lied to you. He was sorry you didn’t know the truth. He was sorry he broke your heart and you needed mending and this is what happened. In every single way, he blames himself for what happened to you tonight. He’ll blame himself forever; forever beg for your forgiveness. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, against your knuckles. 

He stays like this for a long time, kneeling next to you and holding your hand, until he hears Claire’s knock at his door. 

Matt lets her inside immediately—he can sense she has her usual first aid kit along with a bigger suitcase, one he wasn’t familiar with. 

“Thank you,” Matt breathed out. “She’s in my room.” 

Claire began to unpack her kit and suitcase. Matt listened from the corner of his room, giving her some space. She had a stethoscope and thermometer, and inside the larger kit was a portable IV drip. Matt listened as Claire unpacked the IV drip, standing it next to the bed. She pulled out an IV packet and laid it on the side table. She placed the stethoscope on your chest, right over your heart. It was still very slow. Matt felt a tightness in his chest.  

“She was drugged?” Claire asked.

“Yes,” Matt affirmed. 

“Do you know who did it?” 

Matt tightened his fists. “Yes.”

“Looking at your bloody knuckles, I don’t even have to ask what you did to him.”

“He’ll be disbarred.”

“Disbarred? Wait—a lawyer did this to this poor girl? Matt, how do you know her again?” 

He sighed and ran his hand over his face. Obviously, he hasn’t told anyone about you. He’s wanted to talk to someone about it, but never found the strength to—not even in confession. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, I’ve got all night.” 

Matt moved to sit at the edge of his bed, near you. By how Claire was kneeling and looking at Matt, he knew there was no escaping the situation. She had such a way over him that he ended up confessing more than he intended to. It was just the way things were between them. 

He sighed again before he spoke. 

“I saved her one night,” Matt began, “at the beginning of the summer. She was out with her friends. She went back to the bar she was at to get her wallet. She was alone. A few guys stopped her on her way home, with ill intentions, but I saved her.”

“Okay,” Claire gently urged, knowing it didn’t stop there. 

“I…I didn’t expect this to happen. She started talking to me, and I ended up walking her home that night. I didn’t think I’d run into her again. But then, I did. Another night. This time, she was saving another girl from some asshole boyfriend. She was almost attacked again.”

“Seems like you have a type,” Claire said with irony in her voice. 

“I saved her again. She asked me to teach her self-defense, so I did. And then… I just kept coming to her. Every night this summer, on her roof. I wanted to be with her.” 

She was silent for a moment. “Does she know who you are?” 

“No,” Matt shook his head, “and that’s the worst part.”

“Jesus, Matt,” Claire shook her head. “Why wouldn’t you tell her who you are if you felt something for her? You just kept this lie going?” 

“Because she ended up getting hired at my firm. I—I didn’t know she applied. Karen interviewed her and wanted to hire her. I couldn’t tell her.”

“You could’ve,” Claire argued, “you so could have, Matt.” Claire’s exhale said it all—it was a sound Matt was used to hearing from his friend: a sound of disappointment, exasperation, one that asked what were you thinking?

“She’s…young, Matt.”

“Age has nothing—“

“That’s not what I mean. I mean, I don’t know her, but when I was her age, I was naive as hell and thought everyone around me had good intentions. So when someone you think is close to you, someone you trust, hurts you, it hurts a thousand times more than it should. A thousand times.”

“I know, Claire,” Matt said, “I know.”

“Then, why lie?”

“I didn’t want anything to ruin what we already had. Like, her finding out that the person she’s been seeing is actually her boss,” Matt said, and he never really spoke these thoughts aloud. When he did, he once again, realized how fucked up the situation really was—his lying, in both parts of his life. 

“Sounds like you selfishly withheld the truth so you wouldn’t lose her.”

“Right,” he digressed. 

“But something tells me now, you may lose her either way.”

“I already lost her. One night, she tried to take my mask off while we, you know, and I—I lost it. I yelled at her. Told her I wasn’t ready. She told me she never wanted to see me again. She told me she loved me, and it wasn’t fair what I was doing to her.”

“She was absolutely right,” Claire said. 

“She was wrong about how she thought I felt about her, though.” 

“I know how you are, Matt,” Claire said softly, changing her demeanor from before. “You push the people you love away. It’s a terrible habit.” 

“I didn’t want to push her away,” Matt argued. “I wanted her, more than anything. I was afraid to lose her. I thought that keeping the secret would afford me that luxury. The truth is, I don’t deserve her.” 

“Stop,” Claire said. “Enough with the Catholic self-loathing. That alone is enough to push people away. If you want her, you tell her the damn truth, and you fight for her! If you already lost her twice, it sounds like you have only one chance to make it right.” 

He stayed silent. If only he was so lucky to still have one more chance with you. 

He listened as Claire took your temperature and placed the back of her hand on your forehead. 

“Jesus,” Claire uttered. “She’s burning up. 104 degrees.” 

“The side effects?” 

“Rohypnol is a very strong sedative, hypnotic drug. Just one pill can knock you out for hours. She’s—it’s not good, Matt. I think he gave her a high dose to burn up like this.”

Matt shut his eyes tight, in an attempt to control his anger. “How long will she be out? What does she need?”

“It depends. She’ll definitely need you by her side because she may be really anxious when she wakes up. It’s another side effect. Plus confusion and nausea. You’ll need to talk to her calmly. She needs sleep, plenty of water, and this IV I’m putting in now.”

“Okay,” Matt nodded. “Do you think she’ll be out the whole night?” 

“I don’t know,” Claire shrugged, “but you need to make sure you are here with her, or else if she wakes up to an empty room, she’ll panic. She needs you here.”

“I’m not leaving her side.” 

“She needs you, Matt. As in, Matt Murdock. Not vigilante boyfriend.”

“I know,” he breathed. “I know.” 

“I didn’t know what to expect so I brought some clothes for her. She can change into them when she wakes. Otherwise, just make sure she drinks water. It’ll have to be flushed out of her system. It’s going to be rough if she wakes up earlier than six hours after the drug, and it’ll take another 12 hours for it to be out of her system. I think she should stay here for the weekend.”

“That’s fine,” Matt nodded. “She’s safe here.”

“I know she is,” Claire said. “I’ll leave the kit so you can take her temperature—unless your abilities can do that. Otherwise, you know what else to do.” 

⠋⠁⠊⠞⠓

After Claire left, Matt stood in his room for a moment, standing over his bed with you in it. Tuning out the light rain that had begun, he listened to your chest as it gently rose and gently fell. You made no movements at all except to breathe. He sensed that your shirt was still more than half unbuttoned. Careful to not touch your skin, he buttoned it all the way back up. 

He closed his eyes and focused all of his senses on you. Your body temperature was still high. You’d likely get chills from it. He threw his silk blanket over you and found some more blankets to put at the foot of the bed, in case you wanted more. He fetched a glass of water and placed it on the nightside table. With one final pause, Matt retreated to his living room and to his couch.  

For a while, he just laid there, hand over his heart, the other under his head. He listened to you through his sliding doors, sleeping. A great part of him was concerned for you, but the other part of him was wondering how you would react when you woke up. From waking up in his bed to realizing what had happened—would you remember it all, or would the side effects be too strong? And of course, when he decides to tell you who he is, how will you react? The one thing he has been trying to avoid this entire time will now be reality. He wonders, if he had told you from the beginning, would this all have ever happened? 

He’s imagined having a relationship with you as Matt Murdock. He imagined late nights at his apartment, with you studying and him coming home from a late-night patrol. He imagined talking about law with you, drinking with you, kissing you, leading you to the bed he’s imagined laying you in countless times. Yes, he’s wanted you in his bed, but not like this. Not like this. If the guilt he felt was bad before, it was nothing compared to now. 

An hour passes. And then two, and then three, and Matt’s counted each breath you’ve taken. Your heartbeat was steady now, not slow like it was before. Your fever was still high, and you’ve begun to shake in your sleep. He almost wants to get up and put more blankets on you but— he pauses—you’ve shifted in bed. Your heart starts pounding loudly in your chest, in his ears—you’re awake, and you’re scared, like Claire said you would be. 

Matt sits up from the couch and listens as you reach for more blankets. You’re breathing is shaky and your heart is still pounding so hard in your chest. He knows it’s now or never. Slipping his black mask on over his face, one last time for you, he walks slowly to his room and slides the doors open. 

“M-Mike?” Your quivering voice feels like a million tiny pricks in Matt’s heart. It’ll be the last time you ever call him Mike. “What—you brought me here?”

“Yes,” he answers, and he realizes this is the first time he’s speaking to you as your savior in a long time. God, it made him realize how much he had to say to you. So many things were limited to work, to be cordial, to pretend he doesn’t miss how you feel against him, and now that he has another chance, he knows he can’t mess this up. This moment is so delicate for the two of you, but especially you—he’s walking slowly and pauses immediately when he senses you flinch in bed. The reaction breaks his heart.

“It’s me,” Matt reassures you, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know,” you quivered, pulling your knees to your chest. “I don’t know why I flinched.”

It’s no time for Matt to be angry right now, angry that that piece of shit has given you trauma. Matt packs his anger away in a box and mentally shoves it in the back of his mind. He needs to be soft with you right now. Gentle. That’s what you need. And he wants to be that for you. 

“It’s okay,” Matt whispers, and now his own heart is beating hard in his chest. He’s not used to you being so…small. Vulnerable. A lump forms in his throat. He needs to be near you. “Can I sit next to you?”

“Yeah,” you squeak, and Matt can hear the desperation in your voice. “Yes.” 

“Okay,” he quickly says, and he sits on his bed near your knees. You’re still shaking. He wants to wrap his arms around you—tell you it’s okay. But it’s not. “How do you feel?” He asks, even though he knows it’s a stupid question. Truthfully, he’s not sure where to begin. 

“I can’t stop shaking like I have a fever,” you say through chattering teeth. Your body is twitching from the chills. “My head is pounding. My throat is dry.”

“You have a fever,” Matt says, “but the IV is helping bring it down.”

“Did you hook me up to it?” 

“No. A friend did,” he said. 

“Mike,” something in your voice changes: you sound uncertain, scared, confused. Everything Claire said you would be, you are. Anxious, frightened. You can’t remember. “What happened to me?” Your voice cracked as you asked your question. Not even Matt’s mask could cover the fact he was nearly trembling too. Matt swallows his pain away and clenches his jaw. 

“Nothing happened to you,” Matt tries to reassure you, but he knows there’s more to unpack. Later. “I didn’t let him.” 

“Did he… I felt like everything was fine and then suddenly I couldn’t walk. Did he slip my drink something?”

Matt only nodded. “You’re experiencing the side effects now. It’ll be in your system for 12 hours, but the IV is flushing it out.” 

“Oh my, God,” you cried. Tears welled so fast in your eyes, that they pooled down your cheeks, and the room smelt overwhelmingly like salt. You cried and cried, and Matt thought that while he was well-prepared for the darkness of life, the heaviness that this curse he has brings him, nothing could prepare him for the sound of you in pain. Nothing. He never wanted to hear you like this again. You weren’t supposed to know this pain. This shouldn’t have happened. 

Honestly, being in this mask around you made Matt feel sick. It suddenly felt so tight on his face, like he was being suffocated. He couldn’t do it anymore—he couldn’t hide from you. He couldn’t hide his feelings anymore. He didn’t want to console you as your savior. He wanted to as Matt Murdock. 

He says your name, ever so softly. “You’re with me.”

And slowly, Matt unties his mask and pulls it over and off his head. 

For those few short moments, he doesn’t know what to make of your reaction.

⠋⠁⠊⠞⠓

“Matt,” You could barely form syllables, let alone words, when you squeaked out Matt Murdock’s name. You didn’t even truly believe you said his name when you saw his face. A tornado of thoughts swarmed in your head: Matt? How is this even…he’s blind—your boss?! Your savior is Matt Murdock? It’s been him all along? 

It’s as if the sight of him alone took away every chill in your body, and you felt even more hot than you did before. Your heart started to pound again, and your tears dried on your cheeks. You weren’t sure for how long you were speechless, but in those moments you tried to put together the puzzle in your head of how this could be possible, but you couldn’t get the pieces to fit. Nothing made sense.

You ran a hand over your face and blinked really hard before opening them again to still see Matt Murdock sitting on this bed—his bed—with you. Concern was etched over his hazel eyes—you were still reeling in this revelation. Your boss, Matt Murdock. Who gave you daily tasks at work, who you helped write briefs with, who you went over his cases with, Matt Murdock who you went out after work with to Josie’s, Matt Murdock who got mad at you for putting yourself in danger, Matt Murdock who you desperately wanted approval from so badly because you admired his work, Matt Murdock who you shared early mornings with at the office, Matt Murdock who took his coffee black, Matt Murdock who encouraged you in your legal career…

And then it dawned on you—like, really dawned on you, all at once. 

This wasn’t only Matt Murdock, but this was your savior, too. Your savior who saved you all those months ago on your way home from the bar; your savior who walked you home that very first night; your savior who saved you again, your savior who met you on your rooftop and taught you self-defense; your savior who kissed you on your rooftop, your savior who has touched you—oh my fucking, God. 

“I’m going to throw up,” you felt an overwhelming fullness in your stomach and chest, and your mouth suddenly became very watery, that familiar feeling of your body preparing itself to vomit. Without hesitation, Matt immediately ran to the bathroom and fetched a garbage pail. You grabbed it from his hands and leaned over his bed, throwing up bitter bile and liquid. The nausea you felt compared with the shock was a lot for you right now. You felt Matt reach to pull your hair back but you swatted his hand away, in surprising frustration. 

God, you felt so fucking angry right now. And you wanted to yell at him like he was your savior, but then again, he was also your boss, and that didn’t feel right either. Coupled with anxiety and nausea and that strange dryness of sadness you felt all over your body, you placed the pail on the ground and fell on your back, trying to focus on not feeling nauseous. 

“Nausea is a side effect,” Matt says softly. A side effect of what? The drugs, or finding out you’ve been my boss this entire time? 

“Is it,” you breathed. You really didn’t know what to say to him. You didn’t know how to talk to him. You couldn’t even look at him. You lay on your back, facing up at the ceiling. His ceiling. 

“Do you need—“

“I don’t know what I need,” you cut him off. You leaned up on your elbows, looking at him. He looked concerned, worried. Like he didn’t know what to say either. “I don’t know how to talk to you,” you began to shiver again from the chills. “I don’t know if I should talk to you like my savior or my boss.”

“Just talk to me,” Matt furrowed his brows. 

“You? Talk to you?” You questioned. “I—I don’t even know who that is. I’m—I’m infuriated right now. I’m confused how this is possible. You’re—you’re Daredevil? I don’t understand.”

“It’s a long story,” Matt started to say, but you cut him off again. 

“A long story, like how you ended up being both my affair and my boss?” 

He was silent for a moment, his gaze falling short of your chin. Something flashed over his face—realization. 

“You’re upset,” he plainly states. 

“I’m not upset,” you frowned, “I feel…I feel betrayed. I feel like a fool. I… I feel like an absolute mess right now. I wake up, in your apartment, feeling grateful you saved me again from a predator, and then, I finally find out who you are, and all over again I feel like a fucking idiot. Like this is some sick joke.”

“It’s not,” Matt said, “you’re not an idiot.”

“Clearly you think I am,” you argued, “for you to pretend like you didn’t know me this whole time.”

“I didn’t pretend until after your interview.”

“After my interview,” you repeated, “right at the beginning of the summer.”

“Yes,” Matt answered. “I didn’t know you would apply to the firm. I didn’t know we would have this connection before. I didn’t know.” 

“But…you still kept coming to me,” you said in disbelief, “you kept coming to see me, knowing you were my boss now, and the things we did—I feel—I feel so violated. I feel gross. Now that I know it was my boss—you—who I was doing those things with. You… you touched me,” you squinted your eyes at him. “I—I told you that I love you.” 

“I know,” Matt swallowed and looked away. “I know.” 

And that’s all he had to say. You scoffed at him and shook your head. 

“Did you think revealing yourself to me would change anything?” 

“I didn’t know how you’d react. But I wanted you to know because I’m done pretending around you.” His calm demeanor didn’t match your uncertain, upset one. 

“And it took me nearly getting raped for you to finally make that decision,” you jabbed. You were still shaking, but now you weren’t sure if it was from the chills you had or anger. “I wasn’t worthy of it before.” 

Matt furrowed his brows, lips parted—you struck something in him. He shook his head. “__,” he said your name, “that’s not at all why. I care about you so much more than I’ve ever cared for anyone.”

“You lied,” you whispered, ignoring his reasoning. “You lied to me. You sat in your office every day, knowing that at night we’d meet at my rooftop and you’d touch my naked body and kiss me and you showed up the next day like nothing. You—God, and this is the worst part—you knew how badly I was hurting when we fought that one night and you came in every day asking how I was. I—God, I even confided in you about… you… and I didn’t even know it. And you gave me advice. You even lied then.”

“You’re right,” Matt nodded, “I lied. __, I haven’t felt a connection with someone in a long time. You changed that. You changed so much for me. And what we had was—is—special. I didn’t want anything to mess that up. If you had found out after the fact that I was who I was, I was afraid to lose you. I—I didn’t know what to do. I admit it. I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I lied. I will never forgive myself for it.” 

“I’m not sure I can forgive you,” you whispered in return, feeling your heart beating fast. You started to feel nauseous from sitting up and began to lay back down, too weak to continue to argue, too anxious to look at him. It felt like a gate was closing around your heart. Thick chains wrapped around it, with one single lock holding it shut. Once, he may have held the key. 

“You don’t have to,” Matt said after a long pause.

“I know I don’t,” you said obviously. Tears welled in your eyes and your throat suddenly felt very tight. “God, this is so weird and fucked up,” you said as the levity of this revelation fell all over you. “When I didn't know who you were, moments before, I might’ve heard angels sing when I realized you were the one to save me from that awful man. But now, I feel tricked all over again. I want you to go away, but at the same time, I want you to never leave me again.”

“I won’t leave,” Matt said with a quiet urgency, his brows furrowed. “Not ever again.” 

“Maybe you should,” you said.  

You didn’t know what else to say. The man you were pining after for months turned out to be right under your nose the entire time. The man you lost sleep over, the man you cried over, was sitting next to you and he was your boss. You felt anxiety creeping on your skin, and you couldn’t stop shaking. 

“I’m so cold,” you tried to turn on your side avoiding moving the IV in your arm. You closed your eyes, the heavy feeling of exhaustion in your eyes. You felt Matt put more blankets over you before he got up and did as he was told. 

The weight he had on the bed disappeared as soon as he stood up. When the weight of him was gone, you felt instant regret. He walked outside of his room and slid the door shut again, leaving you alone. It was then you finally cried yourself to sleep. 

⠋⠁⠊⠞⠓

The loudest crack of thunder shook you awake. One of those sounds that sends you into a mini panic until you get a sense of your surroundings. Heart pounding, eyes searching for a threat in your room. Then you realize this isn’t your room, it’s Matt’s. 

Still feeling the side effects from the drugs, you weakly reached out to grab the glass of water that sat on the nightside table. You finished the whole thing in a few gulps. Settling back down on Matt’s silk sheets, you looked around his room as the rain started to fall hard on the roof. 

The roof made you think of all the times he’s met you on yours. So many late nights you spent with him, lost in kisses and touches. You could imagine it now. His half-covered face, dark silhouette waiting for you, arms open for an embrace. The person you longed for all this time turned out to be Matt Murdock, the person you had so much respect for. Now, things were strange because those two people ended up being the same person. It was Matt you were kissing. It was Matt you loved. It was Matt you exiled and it was Matt you missed, all this time. It was Matt who saved you tonight. 

You felt another urge to cry, and you did. Tears fell on his silk pillowcase. You were upset, but not at him anymore. Flashbacks of the night before reeled in your mind. Zach’s devilish smile, his gentle urgency at offering you wine, leading you to the couch, and… 

A cold shiver went down your spine. You couldn’t remember anything else, and that terrified you. Your skin started to crawl—you wanted to rip this IV out of your arm but knew that wasn’t an option. You lay on your back in frustration, staring at Matt’s ceiling. 

Why did this happen? Why did you feel this pain? Why did Zach drug you? Why did Matt lie? Why did this happen? Why? Why? Why? 

Your eyes welled with tears again, that thick feeling only sadness could bring all over your body. It was a suffocating feeling, to feel so attacked in many parts of your life. All you wanted was your savior to be honest. All you wanted was help with law school. Your tears stained the silk pillow you lay on. 

You felt an overwhelming feeling of not wanting to be alone. Alone in this room, alone in this bed. The one person you wanted to see was your savior, and that turned out to be Matt. And you didn’t want to see him right now, but it was hell to lie to yourself like this. 

“Matt,” you weakly called. He was probably sleeping, what was the use? “Matt…”

Not even a moment later the sliding doors were opened, and in came Matt without his mask on, worry all over his face, brown hair tussled like he was just lying down. He immediately knelt beside you. A warmth spread over your chest at the sight of him. 

“I’m here,” Matt whispered. “What’s wrong?”

Another crack of thunder and you jumped from the noise. 

Everything about him was starting to become familiar, like a blurred image coming into focus. The more you looked at his lips, the more you thought how obvious it should’ve been. You ignore his question. Everything is wrong. 

“Just stay here,” you whispered, “please. The thunder.” 

He nods, and sits patiently, waiting for another command from you. He looks so worried. You stare up at his senseless eyes, wondering if he really was blind. Of course he was, you push the thought away. You didn’t understand it, but he was certainly blind. His gaze fell on your right shoulder. You’ve never been this close to him before, as Matt Murdock. 

“I keep trying to imagine you with the mask,” you reach up suddenly and place the back of your hand over his face, just above his nose, like a mask. He takes your hand off his face and instead holds it, smiling sadly. It’s then you see how bloody and bruised his knuckles are, and the picture becomes even more clear. All those times you saw him with wounds, the times you’ve offered a bandaid, were from his activities as Daredevil.

“What did you do?” You found yourself asking. “To him?” You were mesmerized by the way his knuckles looked a mix of purple and red. It looked painful. 

He shook his head at first. It felt wrong for you to know the lengths of violence he was capable of. “I hurt him badly,” Matt spoke evenly, “for what he tried to do to you.” His hazel eyes were soft, eyelids half moons. Even to hear Matt’s voice gave you shivers. 

“It looks like some of those hits might’ve ricocheted to you,” you commented, holding his hand in the dim light of his nightside table. “And this is just from tonight, huh? I don’t know how you deal with this pain every night. I can’t even handle it now, and I didn’t take anything physical.”

“People like you aren’t supposed to know this pain.”

“And neither should you,” you gently argued. 

Matt pressed his lips together. Something behind his words made you think of all the times he’s told he is Catholic. 

“It was hard,” you felt your tears well again, “to be in that position. I didn’t think I’d make it out there unharmed. Thank God you were there. I keep replaying it in my mind, and these images of him over me keep intruding, and I just get scared again.”

“I could hear it,” Matt said, “in your heartbeat. That something was wrong.” 

“What do you mean? Like your heightened senses?”

“Yes,” Matt nodded, “I can hear your heartbeat. It can tell me when you’re lying, excited, nervous, or scared.”

You were quiet for a moment, realizing Matt probably listened to your heartbeat during the entirety of your affair, and you had no idea. You felt a pang in your heart this time, realizing how unfair it was he could hear if you lied, but you never knew he lied to you. 

“Tell me,” you whispered, “did you ever catch me in a lie?”

“No,” Matt answered, understanding your message. “Never.” 

“I still can’t mesh the two of you together,” you thought aloud, “That the person I fell in love with is the same person who’s kneeling next to me. It’s weird. And you’re the person I spent mornings with, making small talk. Making you coffee. Seeking your approval.”

Matt’s eyebrows lifted at your last sentence. “My approval?”

“If it wasn’t obvious before Matt, I happen to have respect for your work. When you got mad at me that one time, I was crushed. It was like being scolded by a favorite teacher, or mentor. Now, it makes a whole lot more sense to me why you reacted the way you did. You were reacting as my savior, not as my boss.”

“There’s nothing you needed to do to prove yourself to me,” Matt said. “I knew from the moment I met you you were a pure, kind person. Smart. With a tendency to talk back,” he let himself laugh. “You’re going to make an amazing attorney one day.”

“And at night,” you choked up at your words for some reason—you were emotional all around. You felt stretched thin and your emotions felt intense, like you didn’t know what to feel first. “At night, you were the one I always waited for. The one I needed to be held by. The one I needed to—to kiss, and touch and be with. The one I grew so attached to,” your voice quivered. “God, the things we did together,” you shut your eyes tight, cringing at the memories of your savior—Matt—making you shake from an orgasm, wet from his touch alone, his lips on yours… it was all with him. 

Matt shifted as he listened to you speak. He didn’t know what to say. 

“That’s why you never let me return the favor,” you realized. While you were still reeling in you did sexual things with your boss, part of you was thankful he never took advantage of you like that. He could’ve. He absolutely could’ve. But he didn’t. Did that make it better? You weren’t sure. You were still lied to. 

“Do you regret it?” He asked. “Doing those things with me?”

“No,” you said, after some thought. “If you’re the same person I fell in love with, then no. Do you regret it?”

“I only regret not telling you it was me sooner,” Matt answered. “But I can never regret those moments we shared together. More than the physical things. Everything with you, I hold to my heart,” he took your hand and placed it on his chest, so you could feel his heartbeat. It was beating fast. 

“I can’t read heartbeats,” you said, “what are you feeling?”

“Afraid,” Matt replied. “I’m afraid to lose you. Again.”

“Then help me understand,” you whispered, tears in your eyes. “That it really is you.”

Your hands lay folded on your stomach. With his gaze softly on your neck, Matt reached his right hand and covered it over your hands. He felt warm and strong—a feeling you knew all too well. You gasped at the contact, even though it was so small. You knew your savior and Matt was one and the same from his touch alone. You looked at him through bleary eyes. 

“It’s me,” Matt whispered. “It’s always been me.”

“This is strange,” you said softly. “I watched what I said around you at work. I wanted to impress you so badly. I wanted to learn from you. At night, when I didn’t know it was you, I just—this is going to sound weird—I just wanted to feel you. Be near you. You made me feel so safe. And I can tell you anything and be myself.”

“You can still feel all of that,” Matt gently said, reaching the back of his hand to caress your face. “It’s me.”

“That’s going to be a tough threshold to cross, and I can’t do that alone.”

“What do you need, then? Anything, and I’m there with you.”

You took a deep, sleepy breath. There truly only was one way to cross this threshold of uncertainty. 

“I need you to kiss me,” you said. 

Matt listened to your heartbeat for a few moments to make sure that you weren’t lying. He wanted to be certain that this was what you needed. Truthfully, it's what he needed, too—desperately. 

With his one hand still on your stomach, and the other brushing your hair out of your face, Matt closed his eyes, and slowly filled the small space between your faces. You closed your eyes as well. Just as the hint of his lips was on yours, barely a millimeter apart, Matt paused, let your lips brush for a moment, before he put his lips gently on yours and kissed you ever so softly. You melted in the kiss like you always have. Yes, it was certainly him—your savior. 

He kissed you with a gentle urgency, his nose pressed on your cheek. Forehead to forehead. You placed your fingers on his chin, like you always did before you were going to kiss him. You gently moved his face to yours and leaned in again to kiss him softly. Matt closed his eyes and with a new urgency kissed you again, placing his hand on your neck. He breathed in your scent, and felt your velvety skin under his fingers. You opened your mouth, inviting Matt to enter with his tongue, and at the contact, you gasped. 

“Oh my, God,” you said, and Matt pulled away from you like he’s been burned. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked out of breath. 

“It really is you,” you breathed, chasing after his lips with yours. 

“It is,” he said against your open mouth. 

You pull away again, that uncomfortable feeling of knowing it was Matt. Was it uncomfortable, or was it that thrill you felt the very first night you kissed your savior? 

“We can stop,” Matt offered, lips wet from your kiss. You ran your fingers through his brown hair, your fear of letting him in slowly fading the more you looked at him. This was your savior, this was Matt. You shook your head. 

“I don’t want to stop,” you said softly. “Kiss me again, and make me understand.” 

Matt wasted no time in doing as he was told. He shut his eyes and focused his senses on all of you. Your heart was beating in his ears, and he was grateful it was from excitement and not fear. Finally, he could kiss you without hiding. He licked your bottom lip and gently placed his hands on the back of your neck, lifting you to meet him more comfortably. When he felt you tug at his hair, Matt lifted himself on his bed with his knee. He felt your legs spread under the silk blanket and felt you wrap your arms around him, bringing him closer to you. You placed both hands on his face, Matt kneeling between your legs now. It felt dangerous to be this close to you, closer than he ever has before. Your legs were spread, and he could already sense your wetness pooling in your panties. He could smell your delicious scent. You started to shake again, and Matt stopped. 

“Are you okay?” Matt pulls back and places both hands on your shoulders. “You’re shaking.” Your legs started to shake around him.

“Yes,” you said. You leaned up and met him for a kiss, lips clashing and torsos touching. Wrapping your legs around him through the blanket, you brought him closer to your body, and felt him through the sheets. Matt’s whole body, on yours, fully clothed and separated by blankets. There’s no denying and no stopping what’s about to happen between you. 

“Closer,” you pleaded. Matt stepped off the bed and pulled the sheets from off of you. You took your skirt off but struggled with your shirt from the IV. Matt chuckled, and that familiar smug smile on his face made you want to wipe it off with a kiss. 

“Let me help,” he said softly. You laid your arms flat on the bed and watched as Matt leaned down to slowly unbutton your shirt. You shut your eyes, pushing the thought of that awful man away. This was Matt leaning over you, your savior touching each button slowly, Matt’s gaze falling on your chest. The thrill of it being Matt was a lot, but you realized you’re nothing he hasn’t touched before. 

When your shirt was fully unbuttoned, Matt slipped it off your arms easily. You watched as he also took off his shirt, and you raised your eyebrows in shock. You knew he was built from the times you’ve touched him, but nothing prepared you for his toned and muscled naked torso. 

“Can I take this off?” Matt tugged at the loop of your skirt. You nodded. 

“Please.”

Matt unzipped your skirt and slowly dragged it down your legs, leaving kisses on the way. You couldn’t stop shaking.

“You’re shaking, sweetheart,” Matt said softly, and God, the flips your heart did when he called you that nickname, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” you breathed, “yes, Matt.” The more you said his name, the more comfortable you felt with knowing he was your savior, this whole time. 

Matt leaned over you again, moved the hair out of your face and kissed your forehead. You ran your fingers over his bare torso and wrapped your legs around him, putting pressure on where you needed it most. Matt kissed your forehead, your nose, back to your lips. When he heard your heartbeat pick up again, he whispered in your ear. 

“It’s me,” he whispered, “It’s always been me.”

“Okay,” the feelings you felt were overwhelming now. Your chest felt full when Matt leaned down to kiss you slowly again. He began to pepper kisses on your cheek, your jawline, your neck. And he kissed you for a long time on your neck. You lightly moaned at the contact. 

“Mm,” you moaned softly as Matt kissed your neck again. Goosebumps formed all over your arms and back, and you shivered against him. Matt missed hearing you like this as much as he missed kissing you. He felt your nipples harden against him. Your sex was wet through your panties, aching to be touched. 

“Can I touch you again?” Matt asked in a deep voice in your ear, pulling back from the neck kisses. 

“Please,” you whispered. Matt’s eyes were half moons as his gaze fell on your chin. First, he slowly ran his hand from your neck to your right breast, gently squeezing and kneading it. He felt your nipple harden in the palm of his hand, and he had to stifle his moan. Matt leaned down to kiss your collarbone before he kissed the supple skin of your breast around your nipple. You bit your lip and closed your eyes. Matt could feel the heat pulsating from your pussy, but he wanted to take his time. 

“Matt,” you whispered. He liked hearing you say his name. His real name. 

“Matthew,” he gently corrected against your skin because God he needed to hear you say his full name. 

“Matthew,” you whispered again. Matt wrapped his lips around your nipple, and a jolt of pleasure spread all over your back as he began to suck the sensitive bud. His tongue began to flick your hardened nipple back and forth, back and forth, and you curved in the bed. 

“Oh,” you chanted as he kept licking and sucking your nipple. He played with your other nipple with his fingers before he pulled back and kissed you between your breasts. 

“It’s me,” he says again. He begins to kiss you down your stomach and stops right at your panties, which are soaked with your wetness. Before he does anything, Matt kisses either of your thighs and slowly pulls your panties off. He takes off the rest of his clothing too, so you are both naked. Though he can’t see you—he can only feel you. And God, do you feel so soft and wet. Your skin has goosebumps all over. You haven’t stopped shaking. Matt can hear your heartbeat in his ears, can sense how wet you are in his bed. 

The ache for him is too much, your pussy is throbbing to feel him inside you. Matt leans down and you tug on his brown hair. Matt breathes in your scent before he places his tongue on your pussy and licks up slowly to your sensitive clit. 

“Oh, God,” you breathe, “Matthew.”

Matt groans against your pussy and begins to lick your wetness faster. He spreads your pussy with his fingers and licks your sex. He presses his lips gently on your clit and sucks, and the intense feeling of pleasure leaves you wanting more. You thrust your pussy onto his face as he continues to lap at your juices. He takes your hand and holds it. 

“Mm,” you moan in a sensual voice, enough to almost make Matt leak on the bed. His hardness is throbbing as it aches to find that sweet relief inside you. He continues to lick at your wetness before he pulls back. 

“How do you feel, sweetheart?” Matt asks. 

“Really good,” you answer, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“Do you really want this?” He asks again, concern laced in his voice, despite the situation at hand. 

“So badly, Matt,” you reply. 

Matt moves up and kisses your lips. You feel your wetness all over his stubbly face as he kisses you deeply. When you closed your eyes, you could see your savior, but when you opened them, it was Matt, your boss. The two were the same. The two were slowly forming into one image. You both pull back at the same time. 

“There’s no going back after this,” you whisper.

“I don’t want to go back if it’s not with you,” Matt says. 

“Don’t lie to me,” your voice cracks, and it surprises you as much as it surprises him. Matt’s brows furrow as his gaze looks down on you.

“Never again,” he says. 

You spread your legs wider in return and the feeling of his hard cock rocking between your pussy lips causes you to moan. Matt balances himself over you, gently sliding his hard cock over your wetness, back and forth. His cock was completely covered in your wetness as it slipped over your pussy. The pressure of his hardness on your clit caused you to feel a tightness in your stomach. 

“You’re so wet,” Matt whispers, “like always. So wet.” He could feel his cock aching for your warmth. 

You kissed Matt. His lips molded to yours as it always did. And suddenly, Matt pushed the tip of his cock into your warm, tight pussy. 

“Mm,” Matt moaned as he tried to push into you more. Your toes curled at the attempt. Matt snaked his arm under you and adjusted you so you lay further down on the bed. Matt leaned down to kiss your neck and it was then you felt the revelation rock your body as his fully pushed his cock inside you, filling you up with every inch. 

“Oh, God,” you moaned in his ear as Matt paused with his cock inside you, letting you adjust to his size. He closed his eyes and began to thrust slowly. He felt your velvety pussy wrap around his cock so tightly, it took a few thrusts to fully push inside. 

“That’s it,” Matt chanted softly, “you feel so good. Dear, God,” he moaned in your ear. You wrapped your legs entirely around Matt as he continued to thrust inside your pussy. You felt so full with his cock inside, and the more he thrust, the more you wanted him deeper. 

“Please,” you begged, “Matthew.”

Matt began to thrust faster and harder into you, knowing he was reaching your sweet spot with every thrust. You just felt…so… good…he kissed your neck to suppress his moans as he continued to thrust harder into you, that sweet relief coming over his cock. The pressure and the need was being melted slowly with your warm and wet and tight pussy. 

“You feel so good,” he says again, because it’s all he can say. “So good.”

“Matt,” you said with urgency, knowing you were about to come, “Come inside me.”

Matt paused at your request but continued to thrust into you. Out of breath, he looks up at you. “I’m so close,” he breathed. 

“Come inside me,” you say again, this time with moan at the end, begging. “Please, Matthew.” 

Matt continues to thrust inside you, every wave of pleasure washing over him as he listens to your moans and hears the sound of how wet you are and his cock slamming into you. He wanted you to come first, and he felt you were on the way as your pussy began to clench his cock harder than before, your toes began to curl and your stomach began to tense and suddenly—you were washing all over his cock as you moaned his name. This wasn’t your savior, this was Matt. 

“Matt!” You screeched as you came and your pussy convulsed in orgasm and Matt was thrusting even harder into you. You could feel the tip of his cock all the way inside you, each time it hit your sweet spot you moaned in his ear and came all over him. 

Matt took a shaky breath as he let those familiar waves wash over him, his throbbing and aching cock soon to feel the relief he’s been wanting and needing this whole time. From your tight wetness around him to you moaning his name, Matt isn’t far behind. With one last hard thrust inside you, he stays inside your pussy as his cum completely fills your warmth and you clench his cock. Matt comes inside you and continues to thrust with each pump of cum he spills in you. One, two, three… his warm cum feels so good inside you, as it spurts in your pussy. 

“Oh, God,” he breathes in your ear, “Oh, oh, my God.”

Breathless, he stays on top of you for a moment, both your bodies slick with sweat. It’s your wetness and his pooled together as his cock stays inside you until he’s strong enough to slowly pull out, and when he does you feel the absence of his size immediately. His cum spills out of you slowly and Matt is on his way to get a warm towel. 

You lay there, breathless, as he cleans you up and your heart returns to its normal pace again. He brings the silk blanket over your naked body and kisses your bare shoulder. 

“Stay here,” you give him one last command. Matt's eyes are soft and he smiles a little. He joins you in his bed, under the silk covers, and brings you close to him. He hopes you’ll be this close for a long time. 

TAGS: @starry-night-20 @sumsytee @queerqueenlynn  @mattmurdocksstarlight @marvelcinematiquniverse @hailey-murdock @yeonalie (please let me know if I missed you!)

[male-fictioner]

Heartstopper

Nick Nelson

Charlie Spring

[bi-panic-actually]

Wrote a surprise, completed fic and dropped it today!

In this aged-up AU, Charlie never told Nick that he'd been in love with him for a decade, until it blew up in their faces during a fight. After thirteen months of not speaking, Tori calls Nick to tell him Charlie needs him, and Nick drops everything to care for an injured Charlie.

Charlie broke his ankle and can't put any weight on it for five more weeks, which means needing help. Something he would rather die than ask for. Then, as if he's dreaming, Nick shows up when he's falling apart and vows to take care of him. It doesn't matter that they haven't spoken in over a year, all that matters is that Nick is there and holding him close.

But the feelings that nearly destroyed them are boiling under the surface. They need to figure out how to navigate the new them--even if that means reopening healed wounds. (This has a very happy ending don't worry!)

Big thanks to @songbird3724 @h3artst0pp3rs @plan3toi for being my life support during this one 🩷

[farfromstrange]

Foreigner's God | m.m

Matt Murdock x avenger!OFC

Chapter thirty-eight: Lavender Haze

series masterlist

Summary: Their first date might have started rocky, but everything goes according to plan after that and for the first time, Eliza and Matt can breathe and enjoy each other's presence in more ways than one.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), Fluff, slight angst, but it's just tooth-rotting, Taylor Swift references to the nines, unprotected p in v (wrap it folks), oral (f!& m!receiving), coming untouched, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, soft dom!Matt, praise kink, cum play, cum eating, breeding kink if you squint, forced orgasm, squirting (bye)

a/n: Um, I said I had a schedule and everything but things keep getting in the way like my birthday on Friday??? Roaring 20s incoming. I’m not ready. I’m probably getting Comic Con tickets for next December from my dad, so that’s fun. Finally some bonding time after my childhood was screwed up and I got daddy issues, but he’s trying ig? I will have officially outrun teen pregnancy on Friday, let’s appreciate that instead.

Wednesdays come before Thursdays, right? And I hate Thursdays. So let’s just keep it that way and enjoy this.

Anyway! Holy shit, this is so cute and hot and I'm so proud of myself for this. The light in this gif might not be lavender, but I incorporated this exact move in the chapter so you know it'll be good. You're welcome.

Brb taking my clothes off for Matty boy...

18+ MINORS DNI

Thursday happens a day before Friday, and Friday is the last day before the weekend, so on Thursdays, the week is pretty much over. Especially students and working people think that way because it makes the week go over faster and gives you something to look forward to – a much-needed break.

Eliza never paid much thought to Thursdays. Any day of the week was a nuisance. Waking up in the morning was incredibly hard and she hated the body she was in. That was until she decided that this was no way to live and Matt Murdock made her feel like the most important person in the world. The only woman, for all eternity. She didn’t need to be anyone else’s favorite as long as he loved her, and life got a little less exhausting with him. 

They met on a Thursday. She didn’t remember the day, but she remembered the date and the exact moment she felt his arms around her, trying to stop her from making a mistake. She went ahead anyway. He saved her life that night. Without him, none of the things she accomplished would have been possible. Without him, she would have drowned. She couldn’t have done this alone. 

Now here she was on a Thursday, four weeks after all hell broke loose, alive and well, squeezing herself into a burgundy dress she got on Happy’s very generous account. Matt told her that he made reservations at a small, local restaurant, nothing too fancy, but that she should probably wear a dress nonetheless. He wanted to treat her right, and if his wallet had to bleed for that, he would even sell his soul. 

The dress she chose was made out of pure silk, wrapping around her frame and tied on the side with a small bow that she tied herself. The sleeves were loose and reached down to her elbow, flowing around with every move. Eyeing herself in the mirror, she suddenly grew self-conscious. The top of the very prominent scar poked out of the rather deep cleavage, and the bra that kept her breasts pushed up enough to give a good picture to anyone watching didn’t distract from the fact that it was there. 

She bought expensive lingerie just for him, but as she stared at herself in the mirror, all she wanted was to cry. Repulsive; the first word that came to mind. She hated how she looked in a dress now. 

Eliza blinked the tears away, not wanting to destroy her makeup. She put a lot of effort into looking presentable, to make her figure feel good for him, she even applied the perfume he liked on her so much, but none of that mattered because all she wanted to do was tear the burgundy silk off her skin, get out of the lingerie and lock herself away in the closet where no one could see her in the dark. 

She considered getting a pair of flowy pants and a dress shirt and call it a day. She could still look fancy with something that wasn’t a dress. But it was silk and he loved silk. She bought everything she had on just for him, even the heels because she wanted to give him a show for his senses. She wanted him to feel her smooth, shaven skin and the way the clothes hugged her figure. She knew Matt was a sucker for everything he could explore with his hands. He couldn’t see her, so this was the least she could do. Besides, she wanted to look good for herself. It had been the plan, anyway, before she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. 

Fuck, she thought. She couldn’t go out like that, and if Matt smelled the unshed tears tangled in her lashes, he would ask what was wrong. She wasn’t even sure why the small top of the scar bothered her so much, but the sight alone had her clenching her fists. She wanted it to be gone so that she wouldn’t have to be remembered anymore, but that was nearly impossible. 

She hated her body as much as she hated herself. To think she just started getting better… she worked so hard for what? Just to be thrown back again? She didn’t want to feel so worthless, but the more she thought about everything that was wrong with her, the more she needed to cry. She couldn’t hold it anymore. The first tear rolled. She wiped it away fast, checking if her mascara started to run, but it was still intact. At least something went right. 

She hated Thursdays. 

The door to the bedroom creaked open. Of course, he heard her. She sometimes forgot how good Matt was at picking up certain clues. His senses were enhanced, after all, but he also knew her well enough to check in on her every once in a while. While it might not have seemed that way to others, this was a big deal for her, and the anxiety wore her thin. 

Eliza felt overwhelmed by everything. Going to dinner in a crowded, fancy Manhattan restaurant would only make it worse. At this point, she would have settled for a cheap burger at the diner across the street, or a sandwich from the deli. 

Matt leaned against the door frame. “Are you okay?” he asked. 

He already knew the answer. 

“Yes,” she said. His eyebrows shot up. Quieter this time, she admitted, “No.” Her voice cracked. She lowered her head. His gaze which wasn’t a gaze much rather than a concerned look burned under her skin and her cheeks started to burn from the embarrassed blush. 

She got caught up in her insecurities. He would try to pull her out, but she wasn’t sure if that was possible. She was too deep in now. 

Still, he was nothing if determined, and perhaps she misjudged his abilities. She underestimated him time and time again. 

Matt stepped up behind her. His hand found her shoulders, tracing over the skin of her upper arms before he reached the sleeves. “Silk,” he murmured, “Nice.”

“I made sure you’d be comfortable,” she said. 

“That’s nice of you, but that’s not what’s most important tonight. What’s on your mind?” He pulled her hair aside, pressing gentle kisses to the skin of her neck. She sighed. 

“Too much.”

“Why were you crying?”

“Do you think that the scar…” Eliza fidgeted with her fingers, toying with the rings and chipping away the black nail polish she applied. He patted the back of her hand, telling her to stop. “Do you think I look repulsive?” she asked him. 

He wasn’t sure what the right reaction would have been in a case like this. Her fear seemed so irrational because she was anything but repulsive, he couldn’t take it seriously. But to her, the scar and how it looked to others meant the world. She wasn’t particularly interested in how other people viewed her body, but the scar was a ghastly reminder of darker times, and to have people staring at it would have been even worse. The thought alone felt humiliating enough to make her stomach churn, and she got sick. 

Matt’s thumb slid over her shoulder blade. Goosebumps followed in his wake. “What?” he asked. “Why would you ask me that?”

He was the last person to think that way about anyone, especially her. 

“Be honest, are you still attracted to me?”

Moving his hands from her shoulders around her waist, he began to trace a finger over the exact spot where the rest of her scar lay covered under the dress. “Honey,” he purred into her ear, “You could never repulse me.”

“I’m serious, Matt.”

“I am, too. That scar…” he stopped at the top, sliding his hand between her breast. He outlined and she watched his every move in the mirror. Something about the sight of his lust-blown eyes and his hand on her chest had her gasp softly. 

“It’s proof of all that you survived,” he said. “It’s part of you. If anything, it makes you even more beautiful because it reminds me that you’re still alive. I’ve never been more attracted to you than I am right now, and it’s not just the dress, although it feels so fucking amazing. You amaze me, Eliza, and I want nothing more than to spend an eternity touching you.”

“If you could see it,” she began.

“I don’t care,” his voice grew firmer, “It’s just a scar. Look at me! My entire chest and back are covered in thick lines of scar tissue. Are you repulsed by me?”

She stuttered. “What? Of course not!” That he would even say that was outrageous. “You’re beautiful.”

“Then why hate on yourself?”

“I…” he had a point. She scoffed, turning away from her reflection. “It’s different.”

“Different how?”

“Different because…”

She tried hard to find a reason why her scar wasn’t the same as his – it wasn’t, she was sure of that – but the more she desperately looked into his brown eyes for any sort of agreement in them, she found none.

Eliza looked down at her heels. “Different because it’s me,” she said.

“Sweetheart, no.” He cooed softly as he tilted her head up by the chin. “Stop talking about yourself that way. I know it’s hard to accept your scars – I have trouble accepting mine and I can’t even see them – but they’re there for a reason. They’re a reminder of all that you��ve survived.“

“Exactly!” she cried out, though the sound instantly turned into a whimper when he locked her in place, forced to look into his eyes. “I don’t want to be reminded,” she said, “and I don’t want the people around me to know or fantasize about what happened. I can’t… I don’t want to have other people stare at me because they’ll whisper. They always do.”

And she couldn’t drown them out, no matter how hard she tried.

He licked his lip, eyes soft as he gave her the most understanding look he could muster. He always managed to make her feel comfortable even when she didn’t feel like it.

His thumb stroked her cheekbone. “I’m sorry, baby. I know what it feels like, but that doesn’t make you repulsive. People talk, yes, but they have no right to judge you. Those who do are wrong,” he told her. “And they don’t get to tell you what you’ve been through, what that makes you or who you are.”

“I just…” she nuzzled into his hand, eyes closed to prevent the tears from falling.

He nodded. “I know.”

“I don’t know why I feel this way,” she said. “I just know that I do and it sucks. I hate feeling this way. I hate letting the fear of what other people might think about me influence the way I feel about myself, but I know that as soon as I step into that restaurant, I’m going to ruin the mood because I can always feel them staring even when they’re not. It’s been like this ever since my face first became public in 2012. The whispers…” Eliza shivered and he wiped the lone tear that had slipped from her eyes before it could ruin her makeup. Considerate, he was. “I hate them,” she said. “I just hate it and I hate myself for being self-conscious enough to let it happen. I’m not usually like this, Matt, I promise.”

But Matt only shushed her again with the softest of smiles. “If it’s other people you’re worried about,” he said, “I have an idea.”

He pulled up her dress a little to cover what little he had revealed before, smoothing out the fabric before he stepped away, taking her hand in his.

“Screw the reservation I made. Let’s go somewhere else. Somewhere I’m sure there won't be many people.”

“But Matt, you planned all of this, and I-“

He squeezed her hand, cutting her off with a harsh tug at her arm. Matt tilted her chin up to brush his lips against her. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Yes, but-“

He kissed her to shut her up. “Then let me take you somewhere quiet instead.”

Eliza didn’t deserve him.

The quiet place he mentioned wasn’t all too far from his apartment. From the outside, the Brownstone looked like any other building, but the sign outside read the title of a Chinese proverb.

One generation plants a tree, the next enjoys its shade.

They stopped at the bottom of the steps. “Where are we?” she asked.

Matt grinned like a kid on Christmas Day, knowing and perhaps a little sheepish. “Remember how you told me you don’t like flowers but I could bring you a plant for our first date?” he answered.

“I do remember that.”

“Well, I think you’re gonna love this even more than me just buying you a potted plant.” 

“What do you mean?”

He held on tightly to her elbow. “Lead me up the stairs and you’ll see.”

She counted each step they took, five in total, and she held his hand so he wouldn’t stumble. The stairs were steep; he could seriously injure himself if he missed one. 

At the door, he let go of her, searching for the handle before opening it for her. “After you,” he said. 

Eliza rolled her eyes playfully at his cliché antics. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

“Maybe,” she said. 

The humid air hit her straight across the face once she stepped through the entrance into the warmth of the building. Every breath felt like a retreat for her lungs, the oxygen pure and untainted. It didn’t smell like fried food or boiled vegetables - the air was clean, void of any unnecessary scents that could cause overstimulation. For a second, she doubted he took them to a restaurant and rather to one of the many public gardens New York had to offer. 

Folding his cane and closing the door, Matt stepped in behind her. His hand searched for her rather aimlessly before he found the corner of her silk sleeve, and he wrapped his arm around her bicep to get closer. 

Beethoven played from the speakers in the ceiling, Für Elise from the sound of it, and the soft buzzing of the several fairy lights reverberated in his ears. They hung from the ceiling and flowed down the curtains and the poison ivy covered walls like streams of rain, frozen in place. Not many heartbeats could be heard inside, only the faint clanking of porcelain in the kitchen and the breeze of the air conditioning that came from the vents. 

The velvet curtains separated the entrance hall from the restaurant itself. Eliza stopped, not being able to see through them, and it had her uneasy. She trusted him, but she didn’t trust the strange place. 

His hand on the small of her back urged her forward. Soon enough, he had her shoved through the curtains - they were tinted in the softest lavender shade she had ever seen before. She touched them with her fingertips. It was real velvet, probably expensive too. 

Upon their entrance, the song ended, instead replaced by another classical piece of music - she took a moment to recognize the artist, but after the first three notes she realized that it was Tchaikovsky, one of his lesser-known piano pieces. 

The inside of the Brownstone appeared as if taken from a fairy tale. There was not an inch of the golden-painted walls that weren’t covered in poison ivy or strings of roses. Whites ones, not red ones. Trees raked from the ground and grew into the ceiling, covering the ancient painting of angels and demons with purely green leaves. Every corner of the room was home to a different kind of plant, mostly those that could easily survive inside a sunless environment. The furniture consisted mostly of pieces made out of natural wood, the colors varying with every table and every chair, and the bar at the far end looked like it was cut from Mahagoni.

The plates and cutlery all had precise paintings of nature on the edges, not perfect but something much rarer. You couldn’t find pieces like this anywhere. Not to speak of the fairy lights and candles that offered the only source of light. Scentless candles burned inside the chandelier, only far enough away not to set the plants on fire, but the engraved glass of the lamp hung low enough so that you could see every detail.

The fairy lights reflected and broke against the glass, projecting little rainbows onto the poison ivy on the walls. Everywhere Eliza looked, another shade of green - another source of light opened up. Her lungs filled with pure oxygen, and the rigorous waves of the ocean in her mind eased up, retreating into a state of calm with only a little wind to disturb her. 

Some of the leaves to her right rustled. She gasped when a small butterfly broke out of the confines and continued its way across the room into the next tree. 

“This is so beautiful,” she whispered, Matt’s name only a breath on her tongue. “If you could see this place…”

She didn’t know that he had seen it once. The only reason he knew that it existed was that his father took him there on his seventh birthday the first time, and then for two more executive years until he turned nine. It was his last birthday before the accident — before he lost his eyesight forever.

The Chinese restaurant was a small interior garden with an oxygen quality that exceeded the polluted New York air and managed to calm his overworked senses in a way that he would only ever get in a rainforest again. The picture remained, imprinted in his brain. He could never forget the day his father surprised him by taking him there. 

As a boxer, Jack Murdock barely made enough to get himself and his son by, but he tried his best. Every once in a while, he would put one or two bills of his win aside and save it for a later time. He would refrain from buying anything for himself to make sure Matt received a gift and dinner for his birthday. On the same day in November every year, Jack Murdock constructed a day that was all about his son, and he gave him everything he could have possibly wanted. And even though it wasn’t much because money was limited, Matt was more than grateful that he got the memories with his father. Playing football in the park, eating ice cream, buying him a cheap toy car, and then going to dinner together - his life before he got blind and his father died had been somewhat normal and every last thing he remembered about that time was happy in one way or another. 

Sometimes, when he would set foot into the restaurant now, he thought back to simpler times and how relieved his father had been every time they went there. Only on his birthday had he laughed so much, happy to have Matt in his life, and he made sure he felt that. Ever since his father died though, Matt hated his birthday, and that was one of the reasons why. 

He had never actively shared the restaurant with anyone in his life. It was his and his father’s little secret. A happy place they frequented and Matt often went to long after Jack died because he knew the owner and they got along well. He helped her out of legal trouble once when he was still at Landman & Zach, and ever since then, he visited the restaurant once a month to make sure the family that owned the place was alright. And when someone tried to break in, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t so far off and beat the intruders senseless before they could burn down what the kind Mrs. Chao built for herself. Her kids were to inherit the place someday - it was a family legacy. He had to make sure it stayed that way. 

He was afraid that if he showed this childhood memory to anyone, he would get pitied again. He was afraid that his bubble would burst as soon as he introduced his present to the past and then it wouldn’t be just his memory anymore. It would become a widely known fact. 

Taking Eliza there had been a last-minute decision, but weirdly enough, when they stepped in, Matt no longer cared about the fact that this was a memory he and his father shared and that his childhood was his to keep, no one else’s; he wanted her to know. He wanted to show her where he came from, and he wanted to share the happiness with her.

He knew how relaxing the colors could be and how the pure oxygen made breathing a little easier. It offered an escape. The entire place was so beautiful, looking at it appeared like a fever dream. The lights worked their magic to get you into a dreamy mindset. The more you gazed around, the more the enchanted forest bewitched you. 

Mrs. Chao greeted Matt like she would an old friend. She nodded knowingly at the girl, then pointed to a table in the back. He nodded. “Table in the back would be nice,” he said. 

She guided them there, but Eliza was lost in another world. She had been to many enchanted places before and had seen rainforests and castles covered in gold, but the restaurant was beautiful in a whole different way. It was pure, not manipulated. 

Matt listened to her elevated heartbeat, the clear sign of adoration in the way she sighed ever so often at the sight of a new plant, and her fingers raking over the leaves closest to their table. She shook her head. 

“Do you like it?” he asked. 

“Like it? This is… I’m so overwhelmed right now,” she said. 

“In a good or a bad way?”

“I love it, Matt. This place is so beautiful.”

And it was more than quiet. No curious stares, only them and a few couples on the other end of the room, but the wall and the plants protected them from being seen. 

He smiled. “Just like you.”

“What?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Her heart jumped. 

“And you’re more than perfect to me.”

“Oh, screw you!” Eliza gave a broken laugh. She could already taste the salt on her tongue. “Why do you have to be so fucking adorable?” she said, wiping her cheeks. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Matt shrugged. “You’re you and that’s more than enough.”

“Fuck. I just… I love you.”

“I know you do,” he took her hand from across the table, “And I love you too.”

The pocket of his suit jacket suddenly weighed more than a hundred pounds. She kissed his scarred knuckles, but he barely felt it. The nerves had him bordering on insanity. He managed to hold off for the past day, not once hinting at what he bought, but as she sat before him now, he couldn’t control the nauseating feeling of anxiety that got him shaking on the edge of his seat. 

Eliza swallowed the lump in her throat to tell him what she struggled most with expressing. Words were never enough, she wanted to show him somehow, but as incompetent as she was with emotions, that seemed impossible. She didn’t know anything. At twenty-three she was even more clueless than she was at eighteen when Natasha saved her from hell. She was useless when it came to relationships. 

“Thank you for staying,” she murmured. “I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t wait for me.”

She told him he didn’t have to, but it was a blatant lie she told herself. If he had told her that he didn’t love her anymore, it would have torn her apart. She wouldn’t have survived him leaving for good, even after telling him to. Why did no one tell her how twisted that had been?

“And thank you for not giving up on me, Matthew. Really, I- okay, you were the only one who didn’t give up on me, even when I did, and if you hadn’t done that, I’m sure the universe would have found a way to eradicate me.”

He shook his head, softly turning her hand so that her palm pointed toward the ceiling. “If you love someone, you’d do anything not to lose them,” he told her, “and I’d be an idiot if I ever gave up on you, not when you are the one person I love and need the most in this entire, god-forsaken world. God failed me,” he said, “But you’re here, and it makes me think that maybe the lord does have funny ways of showing he cares. You were my sign. You screwed up but so did I. We both hurt each other. That’s human nature. We might be slightly toxic, but that doesn’t make me want you any less. If anything, it makes me want to try and be better with you. Just the two of us, together. The way things are supposed to be. Why else would we have found back together if not to actually be together?”

“The odds were never in our favor,” she said. 

“Yeah, but we beat the odds. Can’t say that about just anyone.”

“I always thought I was never meant to love anyone…” Eliza trailed off, her voice dangerously close to breaking, and the tears once again pricked at the corner of her eyes. She blew raspberries, trying to hold off the inevitable. She was so in love, it made her emotional. 

Matt smiled at her, his teeth showing with how giddy he looked. “What happened?” he asked.

“You did,” she returned his smile, “It’s always you.”

And it would be always him. 

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

He finally reached into his pocket. His cheeks displayed the faintest of blushes. A sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. He struggled to reach what he was searching for. 

Her eyes narrowed. “Matthew,” her tone took on a warning tinge. 

He retrieved the small box, placing it into her palm. Her fist closed around it, eyes wide as she stared at him, and she wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking at.

“Relax,” he told her, “it’s not a ring.”

“Oh, thank God!” She exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. 

Matt nodded toward the box. “Open it.” He played with his dress pants. “There’s no reason for you to worry, I promise.”

He was worried though, worried she might not like it. 

“I saw it and I thought of you, so I had to buy it.”

“Here’s the thing,” Eliza began, reaching for her purse, “You’re not the only one who had that thought.”

She pulled out a box the size of the one he got her, though hers matched the burgundy of her dress. She placed it into his open hand, closing his fist around it and urging him to open it.

He stuttered, tracing his fingers over the velvety material. “Are you kidding me?” There was no bow, but the box had an easy clasp he could open with one pull. 

Eliza made her gift accessible enough for him and he wanted nothing more than to scold her for even buying him something in the first place, but he couldn’t, not when he could imagine her innocent look and the nervous biting of her bottom lip. 

Awkwardly, she chuckled. “I was shopping for a dress with Happy – and his credit card – and I saw it in one of the shop windows, and I couldn’t help myself,” she said.

“You actually got me something?” He stroked over the velvet again. 

“Yeah.”

“So I worried for no reason?”

“I mean, I’m not sure if you’re gonna like it…” she shrugged. “I just thought it was cute.”

“You know whatever it is you bought me, I can’t see it anyway, right?”

She kicked him and he laughed, his nervosity beginning to fade. “It’s not something you have to see to enjoy,” she said. 

“What is it?”

“Open it.”

“You first.”

“What is it with you and this box?” Finally, she managed to get the bow off. Her heart sped up the closer she got to opening it. 

Matt fidgeted with the box that held his gift. His knee bounced. Agonizingly slow, Eliza opened the clasp and took a look inside the dark confines. What he bought her laid splayed out on a white cushion, golden and thin, and the pendant itself had the form of a puzzle piece. 

She didn’t speak for a whole thirty seconds. He doubted she even breathed. Eventually, she gasped, and her hand reached for the necklace inside the box. 

“Oh, my God,” she choked, “This is…” She couldn’t find the words to describe it. 

He had bought her a necklace with a small pendant the shape and size of a tiny puzzle piece that held three tiny dots filled with amethyst, two in a row and one below, and on top of that the letter M was engraved. Eliza didn’t know much about Braille, but the alphabet wasn’t all too hard, so she recognized the series in which the crystals were aligned.

“Why’d you do that?” Her lip quivered and soon enough, a tear slipped past her red-tinted lips, into her mouth. “Now you made me cry.”

This was not the reaction he expected. “I’m sorry,” said Matt, but the smile that adorned his face told her that he wasn’t sorry. He enjoyed the fact that she liked it enough to cry. It was a compliment. 

She sniffled, searching for the clasp before slipping the necklace around her throat and closing it at the back. It aligned perfectly with the necklace Natasha gave her, but she doubted that was intentional. 

“Amethyst is meant to-”

She cut him off, “Protect the people you gift it to, yes. It’s a protecting crystal, just like hematite. I know.”

“Well, the jeweler I got this from had a sale and he was about to throw it out because he doesn’t sell many Braille necklaces, so I asked him if he could engrave it one more time and I’d take it for the original price.”

“And you took it,” she concluded. 

“I took it,” he said, “Because I figured it was a sign that M was the only letter he had left.”

“I love it.” Eliza hugged the pendant close to her chest. “I will never take it off again.”

“Maybe you should while showering, I’m not sure if it’s real gold.”

“I don’t care if it stains me green, I’m not taking it off. You got me that so I’m not letting it out of my sight.“

She was a very serious person when it came to gifts. 

He could only imagine her pout. “That’s fine by me,” he said and started undoing the clasp on the box she got him.

Matt popped the cap open. Unlike her, he had to feel first before he could give an appropriate reaction. He could tell it was metal, too, alone from the smell of it. He felt around the soft inside until he reached the object.

A round pendant attached to a chain, a broader one than the one she wore. The silver – gold felt much different, even fake one; it was much heavier than silver – was kept thin so it wouldn’t disturb his skin too much, and she made sure not to use any cheap material that could stain or be itchy to him. He took it out, analyzing the surface. That was when he felt it. 

His chin tilted up, his mind processing the letters he felt. Small dots spread over the metal, bulging in a frequency that formed a sentence. 

He scoffed, “You did not.”

“Yeah, I guess we both had the same kind of luck. Jewelers selling Braille necklaces. Except mine wasn’t on sale.”

The necklace spelled:

I love you 

- E.

In the letters of the Braille alphabet.

“I wasn’t sure if you liked jewelry that isn’t your cross necklace, but I saw it and I had to buy it,” she said. “I made them add the E because I wanted you to know that it was from me, not some random person, so if anything ever happened to me you’d have something to hold onto, to remind you of how I felt about you. Or if we ever hit a rough patch you can look at me and know that I love you. It’s… it’s a promise necklace.”

Matt raised his hand, shushing her. “Don’t say that,” he said. “You’re gonna make me cry too.”

“We know how fast things can change, Matthew, especially with the way we’re living, and proving my love to you is something that I want to do in all the ways I can. I want you to know that I accept you, all of you. You should have a piece of me with you always so you know I support you in everything you do. I choose you, ragged edges and all.” She leaned in, lowered her voice, and added, “Daredevil and Matt Murdock. I choose you both.” 

“Okay, fuck it!” He expertly closed the clasp of the necklace, then pulled at her arm to get her to the other side. “C’mere.”

She ended up on the chair next to him and he didn’t waste a second smashing his lips into hers. Holding her face with both of his large hands, there was no more space between them. He had full control over her. 

The softest moan got stuck in her throat when he started to nibble at her bottom lip. Matt pulled away only hesitantly, clasping his hand over her mouth. 

“Shh,” he cooed, “not so loud, sweetheart. You’re gonna attract everyone’s attention.”

As Eliza leaned her forehead against his shoulder, he buried his nose in her hair, pressing another gentle kiss to her scalp.

She tugged at the necklace she bought him, pulling him further down until she could reach his ear. Licking her lips made enough sound for him to hear the pull of saliva off her skin and how she still smelled of the coffee they had for lunch. 

Between the heartwarming gifts and the atmosphere of the oxygen-rich environment, he forgot how much of a tease she could be. Rather forcefully, she grabbed his hand and brought it between her legs, under the silk dress, and right onto the waistband of her underwear.

He sucked in a sharp breath. He could feel the lace that slowly turned into silk around her crotch. A high-waisted thong. The more he traced the lines, the clearer the picture in his mind was painted. Once again, he could only growl when she bucked her hips into his wandering fingers over her covered clit. 

Matt chuckled, his voice slightly husky and thick with arousal. He tried to keep the blood in his head, but he was this close to getting an erection in a very public space. “Did you buy that for me too?” he asked.

She nodded, head still pressed against his shoulder. “I have more,” she said, using the closeness to bite his earlobe gently and fast, making sure no one saw the way he bowed forward to stop himself from moaning. 

He followed with the guidance of her hand down her upper thigh. He didn’t miss the elastic attached to the panties with a thin string.

“Oh, fuck me!” He curled his fist around the fabric and tugged hard enough to let it snap against her skin. “Did you plan this?”

“If you could only feel the bra I’m wearing…” she let out a prolonged sigh. “It’s see-through, made out of lace and the straps are pure silk,” she moaned. “God, you have no idea how good it feels.”

“Eliza,” he warned.

“What?” She blinked innocently with her dark lashes.

Matt bared his teeth. “Stop.”

“If you insist, Matthew.”

His hand slipped from her thigh and she returned to her chair on the opposite side of the table. “Well,” Eliza said then, “Should we eat?”

His mouth hung wide open. She had grabbed the menu halfway through her sentence and now flipped through the pages as if she hadn’t just turned him on like it was nothing.

“How about sushi?”

“I know what I want to eat,” he stated, “and it’s not on this menu.”

His cock rested painfully hard against the inside of his thigh. He tried not to think about it or reach his hand out to relieve some of the pressure – pulling her into the bathroom was no option.

She couldn’t see his eyes, but she suspected they were dark and full of lust, the brown more dominant as his sightless glossed over with the sexiest sheen of arousal. 

“And I want sushi,” she told him, deep down proud of herself for how far she got him – her plan was in full motion. 

He huffed, fist clenching in his lap. The other played with the glass of water on the table, courtesy of the owner. When she asked them for drinks, he declined and told her to bring them some water instead. He would refrain from drinking alcohol in her presence, not sure if it would be triggering. She didn’t talk much about the process with him, but he knew that if he started abusing alcohol with her around, she might get the same idea again.

He brushed the thought off. It was their first normal night out together as a couple and he didn’t want to worry about her too much. Nothing else mattered but her. Everything that happened in the past would remain there for the foreseeable future. 

The waiter came soon enough, breaking the sexual tension in two when she asked, “What can I get you two?”

Matt was about to utter his regular order when Eliza opened her mouth to say the same thing. 

They spoke at the same time, “The fried sushi plate.”

She blinked at him. “How did you-“

“It’s my regular, how did you-“

“I love fried sushi,” she stated. “The question is, why did I not know you liked sushi?”

“Because I never talked about it. I didn’t know that about you either. I mean, picky vegetarian eater… sushi wasn’t the first thing that came to my mind.”

“Well, you know now, so you can take me out for sushi more often.”

“I noted that, thank you.”

“Should I just bring one big plate then?” the waiter intercepted. “For you guys to share?”

Matt nodded. “That would be nice.”

They knew hardly anything about each other, they realized. They shared their deepest, darkest secrets but when it came to the easiest pieces of information, they were like strangers to each other.

The entire time they ate their food was spent in silence. Eliza’s eyes traveled around the room, following the path of the fairy lights and the endless vines of poison ivy, an extraordinary piece of decoration. The light broke on the chandelier again, projecting the rainbow onto her plate and making the vines next to her head appear like a kaleidoscope of nature. 

Her lips parted in a sigh that sounded much more like contentment than it would have if they had chosen to eat at one of the expensive restaurants in downtown Manhattan. It was quiet and she was happy where they were. Nowhere else could they have been granted so much privacy, and the sight was truly phenomenal.

“God,” she said, “I wish I could make you see this right now. If we weren’t in public, I would. It’s so beautiful, Matt. With all the lights and the different kinds of plants, I… I’ve never been to such an enticing place before, let alone have eaten in one.” 

An enchanted forest inside of a Chinese restaurant. It sounded like something many tourists would frequent, but there was no one there but them. The peace felt almost illegal, getting to enjoy such a beautiful sight as if they were the only people on earth with no one to disturb them. 

Matt chuckled, placing his chopsticks on the now-empty plate. He crossed his hands. “Describe it to me,” he said.

“What?”

“Describe what it looks like in here. I want to see the world from your eyes.”

She got up to sit beside him again, this time all innocent when she leaned into him and began to point out every last detail that caught her attention in the best way possible.

“The walls on our right are painted in old gold, covered by strings of poison ivy. It’s growing wildly and entangled with fairy lights that hang from the ceiling like curtains. They shine a soft yellow light that, mixed with the green, offers a serene atmosphere that’s neither too light nor too dark, and it’s not too colorful either. Just enough to be easy on the eyes…”

Eliza turned to the right where the tree grew from the floor into the ceiling.

“There’s an oak tree on our side,” she told him. “Branches and leaves decorating what’s left of the gold and covering it. The fairy lights are here too. And the empty corners are adorned by different kinds of green plants, like Monstera deliciosa, there’s also a small growth of bamboo in the far right corner, Cast Iron plants, Rubber Plants and there is a small fountain that holds water lilies.”

“Water lilies?” he asked, “Really?”

She nodded. “Have I mentioned the roses that cover the wall of the bar that is made out of the darkest Mahagoni? And our tables,” she guided his hand over the natural material, “It’s wood of the purest kind. They sanded it down, obviously, but nothing else has been done to the furniture. It’s amazing, Matthew. And the chandelier… God, the chandelier. It’s completely made out of glass with little candle holders, and the glass is engraved with all these native Chinese paintings. The same ones are on the porcelain, but it looks different on each one because it was hand-made. The engravings are so precise, I wonder which artist made the chandelier. I would love to have a chat with them about their amazing art.”

“Sounds wonderful,” though as Matt said that, his focus was on something other than the restaurant. He listened to her heartbeat and the excitement in her voice, the smile on her face, and the mental picture of her eyes sparkling with the yellow of the fairy lights. 

She was beautiful. 

“What if I told you that I simply asked you so that I could hear your voice?”

She frowned at him, subconsciously toying with her necklace. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I know what it looks like in here. I saw it, a long time ago,” he said. “My father… He took me here for my birthday every year since I turned seven. The accident happened about two months after my ninth birthday, so I remember vividly what the interior looks like, even though it’s been years.”

“Oh, Matthew, I’m so sorry.”

“The owner and I are acquainted with each other. I help her out every once in a while. After my father died, I didn’t feel very comfortable taking anyone back here, you know?” Matt paused to chuckle, a bitter sound in the light-hearted atmosphere of the room. He cut right through it, tearing her heart in two with the pain that displayed on his face even without seeing his eyes behind the glasses.

Eliza took his hand, squeezing it in an attempt to tell him that she was there for him. She cursed herself for not connecting the dots sooner. He took her to the place he connected his childhood with to make her feel more comfortable. It was the most selfless thing anyone could have possibly done for her.

“I came here often, but always on my own. I don’t like to be asked how I know this place or the pitiful glances I get whenever I tell them the truth. The tragically blinded kid who lost his father and grew up in an orphanage because no one else wanted him. It’s… I don’t know, it’s not something you like to tell people, I guess, so I used this place to find some peace amongst all the noise and the smell. Almost like the flower shop that sells those Anemone bouquets, except that here, the world doesn’t exist. It’s my little bubble of safety, and it used to be my and my dad’s little key to happiness. It was our secret hideout.”

“If I had known, Matt,” she said, “I wouldn’t have agreed to this.”

He placed a finger on her lips. “I wanted to take you here,” he said, “because it was the first place I thought of when I could tell you were uncomfortable and I think… you’re the first person I’ve ever taken here since my dad died and somehow it doesn’t even bother me. It feels normal, like you belong here too, not just me. My world opened up and let you in and you’re a part of it now, so you’re a part of everything inside of that world too. I love you, Eliza, and I want you to be a part of my life, all of it, not just the broken parts.”

“I love you too.” She took his hand, pressing a kiss to each fingertip, the gentlest of promises whispered without using actual words to voice what she meant, and he understood. 

Matt cradled her cheek and guided her to kiss him, slow, sensual and passionate, a loving kiss shared between two people who had been without hope for so long and finally found their forever home in the aftermath of destruction. Their lives fell apart, but they got back on their feet and crawled back to each other. Broken and bruised they opened their arms and finally came home. They survived the war, they survived the worst of the worst, and now it was just them against the world - because if you survive what these two went through, there is nothing you can’t conquer with the person you love. 

He breathed her in like the air around them. “Let’s get the bill,” he said. 

Her eagerness barely surprised him. She nodded, “Okay.”

Matt tipped generously, using what little money he had left in his pocket to pay his thanks to the chef. He waved goodbye to Mrs. Chao and then they stepped outside again, the polluted New York air hitting them like a brick after spending so much time in one of the cleanest places in the city. 

A car honked, the motor howling as the exhaust spurted into the air. They shared a look. Eliza snorted, starting to laugh, and he soon joined in. 

Ice cream was on his schedule next. He promised to spoil her and he made true to that promise. He got a vanilla cone while she got chocolate and hand in hand the couple made their way down the darkened street of one of Hell’s Kitchen’s few parks. Only the faint buzzing of the street lights above them told him that they weren’t entirely lulled in darkness. 

“I love New York,” she said upon seeing the faintest outline of a star in the night sky. “No matter how dirty it is, the city owns my heart. And sometimes, if you look closely enough, you can see the world beyond it.”

He hummed in approval, switching her cone for his momentarily to taste and she did the same with his. It didn’t taste artificial like most vanilla flavors. She took another lick, enjoying how the cold felt on her heated tongue. 

Matt raised his eyebrows. “Do you want it?” he asked. 

“What?” she blinked innocently. “Oh, no. This is your ice cream. I wouldn’t want to…”

Of course, she wanted it. If she had known beforehand, she would have chosen vanilla too, not chocolate. 

He smiled. “Take it.”

“Thank you.”

She was so eager, the entire thing was gone in a matter of two minutes. He could only chuckle when she wiped her mouth with a tissue and moaned, “God, that was so good!”

“Glad you enjoyed yourself, sweetheart.”

“Are you kidding me? This was amazing. Not just the ice cream,” she clarified, “But the entire night. It was perfect, Matt.” She stopped, pressing her lips to his stubbled cheek. “Thank you, so much.”

He slurped up what was left of the chocolate ice cream before discarding the cone into the trash. Tonight, he couldn’t stand the crunching. 

Taking her hand, he pulled her down the street with him. “We’re not done yet,” he said. 

“Wait, what? OH!” She squealed. 

Not the sprinklers.

It was that time of night when the remote sprinkler systems started wetting the grass to keep it nice and wet over the hot summer night. They turned on just as they started to walk by. Eliza tried to fight back, but Matt already had her pulled under the stream. She squealed again, louder this time, the cold water soaking her dress almost instantly, and her hair already started to stick to her forehead. Not to speak of the makeup running down her face. 

“You are an awful person!” But she laughed anyway. 

Another sprinkler turned on right next to her and aimed straight at her face. She ducked, running into Matt who simply pulled her into him.

“Look at us!” she said. “We’re getting soaked.”

“You said you don’t mind the rain with me,” he said. 

“Sprinklers don’t count as rain!”

“In my book, they do.”

“What kind of book are you reading? ‘Cause, we’re definitely not sharing the same one.”

He wiped his wet face underneath the glasses he somehow still hadn’t taken off. With a scoff, she pulled them off his face. He shook his hair out of his face, using the newfound freedom to clean his lashes off the excess water. It was of no use, the sprinklers just kept raining down on them. 

Once so ready to flee, Eliza kept her hands on his upper arms, staring into his endless brown eyes. The love and adoration she had for him were suffocating but in the best way possible. 

Matt’s lips found hers as if she had been lost his entire life and he finally found her again. She wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the sheer eternal connection. 

The lights along the path that went through the park met the streams of artificial rain in purple shades, hulling them in a lavender haze that grew around them like a castle. The curtain kept them hidden from the world, shining down on them in the same explosion of color shades as the Billboard outside his apartment would. Though it was just lavender this time, no other color was anywhere in sight. Purple through and through, just the two of them, together.

“Dance with me,” he breathed. 

She chuckled. “But there is no music.”

“We don’t need music to dance.”

“But that’s not the definition of dancing.”

“Would you shut your mouth?” He swallowed her next sounds with his mouth. “You’re so annoying,” he said between kisses, “You’re making me furious.” 

“Doesn’t feel like you’re furious,” she said.

“Oh, I am. But I’m also very happy right now.” 

He twirled her around her axis before pulling her back in. She giggled. His hands were hot on her clammy, wet skin. The silk stuck to her body like glue. Every time he turned her, the fabric slapped against her skin. 

At the last pirouette, she pulled against him. He stumbled and tumbled into her arms. Eliza used that to her advantage and kissed him with all she had to give, standing on her tiptoes and hugging him close to her. The sprinklers were still going strong, but she tuned them out.

The sight of Matt in lavender lighting was truly a beautiful one, much more beautiful than the enchanted forest they came out of.

“You wanna go home?” she asked.

He sighed against her warm lips. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

They barely made it through the door before his lips were on hers. He kicked the door closed with his foot, tossed the key into the bowl next to it, and used the other hand to tangle in her hair, pulling her closer. 

Her back hit the wall, his hand sufficing as a barricade from getting injured on the bricks. She raked her nails over his chest, up to his shoulders until his suit jacket slipped off and landed on the floor. His tie followed. 

He tried hard to stay in control, but her strength outmatched him, and when she pushed him, he followed. He fell back into the couch, legs spread wide as she seated herself on his lap, resuming her kisses along his neck before moving back to his swollen lips. 

Matt grabbed her face to have at least some say about where this was going and she let him shove his tongue down her throat. She tangled her hands in his brown air, searching for something to hold onto. In return, his hands slid from her thighs to her ass, giving a gentle squeeze, and moved on to her waist where he held her closer than ever. At the same time though, he tried to stop her from grinding on him too much - this was going to end way too soon with how worked up he was if she kept moving her hips so desperately against his. 

Her lips pressed gentle kisses to his cheeks and eyes, nothing like the fiery mouth-to-mouth kisses they previously shared. Eliza tried to regain some of the oxygen she lost; he was breathing just as heavily, eyes fluttering close at the soft touches she left on him. Her hands would stay imprinted forever, he thought. He could feel her everywhere at the same time. 

The continuous movement managed to ride her dress up enough to reveal the garter belt she wore on both sides and when his hands brushed the rubber, he growled. “What color is it?” he asked. 

His finger dug into the soft flesh of her thigh and she sighed, matching the sound of his voice with a soft moan, “Red,” she said. “Burgundy.”

“And the dress?” His hands traveled under the silky skirt, tracing over the lace underwear where it nestled perfectly between her ass cheeks and upon her waist. He let the band snap against her skin. “Is it red too?” 

She jolted. “Yes.”

“You thought about this when you bought it, didn’t you?”

Instead of answering right away, Eliza guided one of his hands to the bow that kept her dress wrapped around her body. It was a gift waiting to be unpacked. He choked on nothing but air, the broken moan that bubbled up in his throat swallowed by the flush of arousal that suffocated him from how red he had gotten. 

She leaned down against his ear. “Why else would I have bought it if not for you to fuck me in it?”

The rational center of his brain shut off. His hand gripped her ass cheek firmer, pulling her up until her legs wrapped around his waist and he hoisted her up into his arms. She giggled. Matt made his way into the bedroom, almost forgetting that the armchair stood in his path. He stepped aside just in time before they would have both fallen, which made her laugh even more. 

“I get the feeling you forget that you’re blind sometimes,” she said. 

“I know where my furniture stands,” he snapped. He was way too eager to be making jokes.

She giggled again. “I doubt that applies when you think about fucking me. Oh!”

He threw her on the bed. She bounced off the mattress slightly, his lips back on hers in no time as he covered her body with his. Her leg wrapped around his hip to push him further against where she needed him most. His hand traveled under her dress again, the other stroking rather lovingly through her messy hair while he kissed her with a different intensity. The heat from before was still there, but the flame seemed tamed now. Like he wanted to spend hours kissing her, feeling her with his fingers, and painting picture after picture in his mind. There was no rush, they had all the time in the world, and he wanted to use it. 

“Matthew,” she breathed against his lips, “Do you want to undress me?”

“If you’re ready for that,” he said. 

His eyes opened to point down at her. She traced his features with her index finger. “I want this,” said Eliza. “Even though it might be a bit more complicated now, I want to try. I want you. I’ve been thinking about nothing else for the past few days, wanting to feel you again. Not just in my mouth but inside of me, marking me, making me yours. I want this.”

Matt ground his teeth. “Fuck, sweetie! You are so good with your words, it’s insane.”

“Please, Matthew, help me take this dress off.”

He got up on his knees, allowing her to slip out underneath him and stand at the edge of the bed. He moved, sitting down right before her, hands on either side of her hips. She stood between his spread thighs, looking down at him with blown eyes and her lipstick smeared anywhere but her lips. He even had some stains on his white shirt, but neither of them cared enough to do something about it. 

Slowly, he pulled at the bow that held the burgundy silk together. It opened, leaving behind a small button to assure that she wouldn’t lose the dress if the belt ever failed to hold it up. He only flicked his fingers once before the fabric slipped open and off her shoulders, onto the floor. The cold air of the apartment had the hairs on her body standing up and she gasped at the feeling on her almost exposed nipples. She wanted to cross her arms over her body, suddenly so exposed and insecure about what he might think, but he left her no space to move. 

He started at her calves, feeling the smooth skin and missing hairs - which he didn’t really care about, but it felt nice nonetheless - then moved on her thighs. His fingers traced the garter belt that was attached to her underwear, playing with the rubber a few times before he continued to the pair of lace panties she hid under her dress all this time. He kissed her stomach, licking a long stripe over the scar she was so insecure about, kissing over her naval some more. 

She gasped, holding onto his hair. He played with her nerves one by one, surely driving her insane. A firm slap against her ass made her cry out, bucking her hips and therefore her stomach further into his mouth. He grunted greedily, sucking at her hip bone until he felt the blood pool under his tongue. 

Her hand flew his shoulder in an instant when he dipped his head between her legs and pressed a firm kiss to her covered cunt. The hand that was already tangled in his hair held on tighter. He licked over the silk covering her crotch, tasting her without even trying, and moaned against her clit. 

“Fuck.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that again,” he said. 

“But you haven’t even-” she had to pause to let out a soft moan, his lips attacking her core with newfound enthusiasm, making out with her folds, and the fabric between him and the most sensitive part of her managed to produce enough friction to make her feel the shocks of electricity in her lower stomach. The sensation was much weaker than before, but he knew what he was doing, and with every kiss to her clit, the scent of her arousal became clearer. “Fuck, you haven’t even touched the rest of me,” she finished her sentence. 

Matt hesitantly pulled away, attempting to look up at her through hooded eyes and full, black lashes. “I’m trying to pay some much-needed attention to my girl, would you let me do that?” His lips ghosted over the waistband of the panties. “Someone’s been a bit neglected in the past couple of days. I have to make up for that.”

He cupped her pussy.

With someone he didn’t just mean her, he meant what was sitting between her legs.

“Man, she must be aching to be touched.”

She was. Eliza was, and the rest of her too. She needed to be set on fire by his touch. It was necessary for her to feel human again. She wished she could make him see this, see her again, but she would only ruin things.

She almost completely lost it when his hands finally reached her aching nipples, the lace of the bra barely covering her breasts. The fabric was see-through, the band made out of red silk, and on top of the cups, two bows held the straps together. He wasted no time tugging at her nipples through the thin layer of silk, pulling her toward him before squeezing both breasts hard between his calloused hands. She chose the right fabric, indeed. 

“Fuck, you’re being so good to me,” Matt murmured into the skin of her abdomen, “and I’ve been nothing but selfish. Having you suck my dick almost every day, but I’ve never even touched you the way you deserve. I’m a terrible boyfriend.”

Eliza pushed at his forehead to bring him back, staring into his eyes with a look of bewilderment in her own. “Matthew, that’s not true,” she said. 

“Yes, it is. I have to change that.” Reaching behind her, he searched for the bra clasp. “Good girls deserve to be rewarded.”

The piece of lingerie snapped open. She gasped at how easy he made it look. The bra fell off her shoulders and he discarded it into a random corner of the room. 

“As much as I like what you got for me, it’s in the way.”

And with that, the panties were detached from the garter belt as well and fell to the floor in soundless excitement.

“And you’re keeping that one.” He snapped the rubber again. “It’s so incredibly sexy, I just want you to wear that every day, even at work so I can snap it against your skin as I bend you over my desk and fuck you like the dirty little whore you are.”

He didn’t even give her time to step out of her panties before his head returned to its previous position between her legs. 

“Oh…” Eliza gasped at the hot contact. “God, fuck!”

He lapped at the folds of her cunt, parting them with his tongue as he always did. He licked a long stripe from her entrance to the top, then back down and up again until he finally reached her clit and wrapped his lips around the nerve endings. He sucked the bundle into his mouth, kissing and nibbling until it was swollen and red and she was breathless atop of him.

Keeping her upright with one arm around her hips, he kneaded at her upper thigh with the other. The tip of his tongue unsheathed her clit when he finally released it, drawing circles directly on the sensitive nub and she cried out again.

No matter how good it felt, her orgasm seemed worlds away. 

She bucked her hips into his mouth again. He sucked, the motion filling the room with an obscene slurping, and she realized he managed to get her wet with just a few kisses to her cunt already, but that was about it. Still, he didn’t stress, he kept doing exactly what he started with, and the repeated motion and attention to detail of his tongue had her legs shaking soon enough. The immense pleasure he pulled out of her made her wish she could be lying down instead. But perhaps he knew something that she didn’t about this particular position. She certainly didn’t know much about sex. She couldn’t judge.

Eliza cursed herself for thinking too much. “This might take a while,” she said. 

He chuckled, the vibrations sending a thrill down her spine. “And what’s so bad about that?” he asked. 

“I want to… fuck, I want to cum, but I can’t.”

“That’s okay.”

“You don’t understand. I don’t know if I can… If I can ever…”

“Yet.” 

His mouth was gone, suddenly, and then his back laid flat against the mattress, pulling her with him until her legs were on either side of his head and his hands rested on her ass fully. He gave the cheeks a gentle squeeze, feeling how her flesh jiggled with his ruthless grip.

“Let’s try this again,” he said, his breath hot against her wetness. “You’re going to show me exactly what it takes to make you cum and if I have to lie here for hours, I will gladly keep licking at your pussy until you do.”

She blushed so deeply, her cheeks resembled the red of her discarded dress. “Matthew,” she whined, “I can’t.”

He tugged at the garter belt. So that was why he wanted her to wear it. He wanted to have something to pull her like a dog on a leash.

Fuck. This shouldn’t have turned her on the way it did.

“This is the only way you can control what you need,” he explained. “The only position that allows you to experiment with your movements in a way that will make sure you cum first. I’m not stopping before that, even if the overstimulation kills me.”

He tugged at the rubber again. She moaned. “Matthew, I don’t know,” her voice bordered on a pathetic cry. “I don’t know if I can,” she said.

“You did it before, do it again. Don’t be shy now, sit on my face.”

“No, I don’t want you to… it’s uncomfortable.”

“For you?”

“No, for you.”

Matt’s chest rumbled as he laughed. “Sweetheart, I’m anything but uncomfortable, now stop fucking hovering and sit down.” He smacked her ass. She didn’t comply. “You’re not sitting,” he stated. 

“Isn’t that enough?” she asked, her voice quiet and throat tight from the pure embarrassment that came from the position. 

“If I have to move even just an inch to wrap my lips around your clit, you’re not sitting, you’re just kneeling over my head. Now stop being a brat,” he said, pulling her down on his lips with one harsh tug of her garter belt, “And make yourself cum on my tongue like the good girl I know you are. Use me.”

She kept herself steady with a hand in his hair, the only clinging onto the silk sheets for dear life as his tongue went to work and, even though she was more than shy about the whole thing, she started to move in time with his thrusts until his kisses met her cunt at the right angle.

“Right there?” he asked before she could say it.

With her bottom lip between her teeth, she nodded. Her chest and cheeks already flushed hot red from the need coursing through her veins. He was in her blood stream now, so close yet so far away.

She ground her hips harder, feeling all of him. Eliza played with the intensity of her thrusts a little while Matt simply stayed there, body unmoving and doing the same motion with his tongue over and over again while she fucked herself on his face. His nose caught against her clit and she gasped again, losing all control over her limbs. 

He caught her thighs, helping her resume her movements in the same spot.

“More,” she choked out. “I need more.”

He nodded. “What exactly?”

“Just…”

He started to paint a precise picture over her clit, spelling his and her name before shoving his tongue into her hole. She twitched. 

“That! God, yes! Fuck, that’s it.”

She chased the high that started to settle into her bones with the eagerness of a mad woman. She could feel it, resting right where his nose and tongue worked wonders over her slick cunt, and her lower stomach got tied in all kinds of shapes, an explosion waiting to happen. She reached for her breasts, squeezing her sensitive nipples. 

His moan reverberated against her clit and he replaced her hand with both of his, rolling the sensitive nubs between his fingers the same way he started to suck on her clit, hearing the wetness of her walls as she clenched around nothing, her movements getting sloppier and more desperate, and he tugged a little harsher at her nipples. 

She forced his face closer by the hair. “Fuck, Matthew,” she moaned his name like a mantra.

How was he so good at that?

He groaned again when she pulled at his hair, his scalp burning from the harsh assault, but the pain shot right to his aching cock in his dress pants. His hips lifted, finding no relief, but the sounds she was making and the taste of her juices exploding on his tongue might as well just have been a hand stroking up and down his shaft. 

With another broken cry of his name, her legs locked around his head and he caught her by the throat before she could dive off the bed. Matt eagerly sucked at her pussy until she was quivering, the entirety of her juices landing in his mouth and he drank up everything she had to give. 

The wave crashed in hard, knocking the air out of her lungs. She forgot how good it felt to be the one to receive the pleasure, how it felt to cum in his mouth and be completely at his mercy. She forgot how good it felt to be so turned on, her body was in full control of her actions. The high was unlike anything she could feel with a recreational substance. 

She breathed deeply, walls spasming and her legs shaking.

More, her head screamed.

“Can I-“ she swallowed hard. His eyes fluttered open, a questioning look on his face while he lazily kept licking at her folds. “I want to go for another one,” she admitted quietly.

He grunted. “Please do,” he said.

If she kept this up, he would cum too and it was all he needed.

Her hips started to resume her movements, sloppier and weaker this time. He used the garter belts to move her in the way she showed him before.

“Fuck!” She quivered completely against him, his tongue merciless as it licked and thrust, wringing moan after moan from her chest.

At this point, she didn’t care, she rode his face at an intensity and speed, his beard was sure to leave a bloody burn on the inside of her thighs. But fuck did she need it. She had needed this for so long and finally having it, finally being able to cum after such a long time was heaven on earth. And at his hands she would gladly do it all over again.

She threw her entire body back, hands now resting on his thighs. He had planted his feet up on the mattress, allowing her more leverage. One hand searched for his belt, undoing it and reaching for his aching cock.

“No,” he moaned against her cunt, “Later.” The words came choked up and needy.

She whined, wanting to feel him come apart in her hands, but she was barely present. The orgasm built and built and built until it eventually set her world on fire the same way his vision burned.

“Matt, I’m…”

He squeezed her breast with one hand, the other rubbing her clit as he fucked her with his tongue.

“Uh-huh,” his voice vibrated through her inner walls.

Her legs locked around his head. The orgasm was more intense, more progressed than the first and she moaned so loud, her voice bounced off the walls and she was sure the nice lady next door fell out of her bed at the way she let out Matt’s name.

The entire building must have heard them by now and the thought turned her on so much, she came even harder, thighs locked around his head and hips bucking desperately and wildly as he helped her get down from her high.

Her lungs opened and Eliza could finally breathe again, still holding onto his hair. “Thank you,” she said.

The relief was short-lived.

Matt didn’t plan on stopping at two. She had asked for them, now it was his turn to ask for one of her orgasms, and if she didn’t say yes, he would take it anyway. She tried to pull her hips away, but in the wake of her orgasm, she was weaker than him. 

He flipped her onto her back, forcing her legs back into the mattress, and went back to sucking at her abused cunt with a low growl. Her back arched into him. “Matthew, please,” she whimpered, legs tightening around his head. He forced them apart, pushing them so deep into the mattress, it felt as if he split her in two. “I came,” she told him, “I promise! I can’t… God, fuck!”

“I know you did,” he said. “But I want you to give me another one. I want you to cum as hard as you can.”

She moved back on the mattress, trying to evade his stupidly skilled mouth, but he found his way back. He simply followed where she went. Keeping her legs spread like a fucking pro, she lost herself in the abyss of ecstasy, feeling the pressure building up inside of her like a crescendo. Whenever he sucked again, heat spread through her entire being. He alternated between thrusting his tongue inside of her and kissing at her folds, doing exactly what she showed him that she needed when she sat on his face.

She arched her back, lurched forward, then fell back into the sheets again. She wasn’t sure what to hold on to, but his hair wasn’t it. She managed to find a pillow somewhere, digging her nails into the silk and pulling at it so hard, she could feel it tear under her fingers. 

Soon enough, he plunged two fingers inside her tight walls. Her lips parted in a silent scream. The world around her exploded into stars and pits of endless fire. She saw white and black at the same time, pussy clenching around his fingers and gripping him like a vice. 

This was… different. As he kept massaging her g-spot and applying pressure to her clit every so often, the feeling that started to bubble up inside her was new. The pressure that spread through her lower half and even set her nipples on fire as she squeezed one of them in her hands was so intense, she felt as if she was a hand grenade about to explode in his hand.

“Think you can take another one?” he asked. 

She must have made a sound of approval. Her walls stretched with a delicious burn as he inserted a third finger into her pussy.

“God, yes!” She met his thrusts. “Yes, fuck, yes! Right there.”

“Here?” Matt’s eyes fluttered innocently as he curled all three of his fingers upwards. 

She squealed. “Yes!”

His thumb joined his tongue on his journey to stimulate every last nerve that sat in her clit, pulling the highest amount of pleasure out of her that was humanly possible. 

The blood rushed in her ears, her throat dried up and unable to make sounds with how deep he was, how good his mouth felt, and the sounds he made spurred the intense stone on to roll down the hill and crash into her with full force.

“Matthew, what are you doing to me?” She was crying, sobbing even, and her body convulsed with each perfect thrust of his fingers.

“Making you cum,” he stated.

He flicked her clit from side to side with his tongue, enveloping it with his lips again and making out with her cunt agonizingly slowly. He didn’t answer, he just continued at the same pace with the same intensity he started with. He didn’t rush, he played her like the keys of a keyboard, waiting for the notes to turn into a melody. Her voice already sounded like the cacophony of an angel’s choir. All he needed was the music to add to it. He wanted her screams. He wanted the sound of his name to be the only lyrics she would ever memorize, and for her to only respond to the touch of his fingers, no one else’s. 

Matt suspected she could do it if he took his time and tried hard enough, pushed the right buttons, and kept her on the edge for long enough, but he didn’t want to wait. He wanted to test his theory as soon as possible, and judging by how badly she was trying to steer off the almost painful pressure that had her clenching around him so hard, he thought his fingers would break, he almost had her right where he wanted her. 

“Are you getting close?” he rasped. “Are you gonna cum for me soon?”

She nodded feverishly, a tear making its way down her perky breasts and onto his mouth. He moaned at the taste. 

“Yes,” she choked out.

He lapped at where his fingers kept disappearing inside of her. “Don’t,” he told her. 

“What?”

“Not yet, sweetheart. Give me a minute.”

A minute was an overstatement, but her whine was sweet enough for him to consider edging her for longer. 

“No,” her tears multiplied with every thrust of his fingers, “Please, I need to… let me cum, please. I’m begging you! I can’t hold it. Matthew, fuck!” 

He dared to slightly bite down on her clit, not enough to seriously hurt her, but the pain instantly added to the pressure that was already hard enough to keep from bursting at the seams.

“Wait for it,” he instructed. 

The weight of the orgasm resting in her lower stomach grew to a painful extent and she was sure she would explode any second now, even without permission. Her hand found his hair, trying to push him away, but he stayed right between her legs, eating her out to get his fill, and he would get it soon enough. 

“Stop, please.”

It wasn’t their safeword, although he considered asking her if she wanted to stop. 

“God, fuck! You’re gonna make me… I can’t.”

Her words made no sense and he chuckled again, feeling the desperation seep out of her pores. Perhaps he wasn’t just a masochist but a sadist as well. 

“Oh, you can,” he purred.

“No, I really can’t. Fuck!” She cried again. She was best at that. “Don’t stop,” she couldn’t help herself. It hurt but was so damn good at the same time. “Don’t fucking- oh, no.”

He chuckled again. “Oh, yes. You’re doing so well, baby. Just a little more.” He sucked her clit between his teeth and released it again, his fingers curling one last time before he pulled them out, “Do me a favor and cum, now.”

Eliza slapped the pillow against her face because she was sure if she didn’t, she would scream. What was about to happen felt embarrassing enough. 

She had read about it before and she knew that the female body was capable of so many things, especially when it came to sex, but she never thought she would be one of those women. She never thought she could be so stimulated and turned on to the point her orgasm would tear her body apart, shake her world and exorcize her soul so that all her body could do was release all the pent-up stress she had by releasing an obscene amount of wetness while her cunt clenched around pure pleasure for dear life. 

She was sure she passed out for a moment there, her muscles locking up with the explosion of dopamine and oxytocin, and her eyes rolled back to the point she could have sworn she saw her brain being tossed into the mixer, shredded into pieces at full speed. 

His head got caught between her thighs as they shut around him, but instead of pulling away, he dove in to catch all she gave him. He swallowed every last drop as if he hadn’t eaten or drunk in months. 

His thumb kept rubbing her pulsating clit gently until her lungs filled with air again and she regained consciousness. The pillow slipped from her hands and back onto the bed. Her chest heaved. She must have looked so pretty in the luminescence of the Billboard.

His forehead leaned against her mound, breathing in the sweet scent of her arousal and listening to the wetness trickle out of her cunt with every twitch of her inner walls. Every muscle in her body was riddled with heavy aftershocks, but the soft caress he left along her thighs and hips eventually eased the wave and brought awareness back to her body. 

She swallowed. The mess between her legs was more than palpable. 

“Damn,” Matt murmured with a chuckle that bordered on proud and cheeky, “I knew it.”

“Oh, God,” Eliza gnawed on her bottom lip, her voice hoarse and higher than usual. 

“God isn’t here tonight, sweetheart, but I know that this must have been a heavenly experience.”

“Did I… I just… fuck, Matthew!”

“Oh, yeah, you did.” He pressed a kiss to the hickey he had left on her hip bone. “And it was so good, I’ll probably smell and taste you for weeks now.”

“What about the sheets?” she wondered. “Fuck.” The blush crept back to her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think-”

He was back up and hovering over her in seconds, shushing her with his lips on hers. “Don’t apologize,” he said. 

“No, I am.” Eliza disappeared into a ball of shame behind her hands. She tried to close her legs to get rid of the cold, sticky feeling that had her shivering, but his large figure between her thighs made it impossible to move further than his hips. 

“Did it feel good?”

She nodded. 

“Then why the fuck would you apologize?”

The lower part of his face glistened wetly in the soft purple light that came in through the bedroom window. It was ironic to see him enveloped in the same shade they had just danced in, though this time it wasn’t the sprinklers that had him all wet, it was her. Peaking through her fingers, she looked at him. He had never looked happier with his hair disheveled, lips swollen, cheeks red, and face covered in her cum. And he had also never looked better. He smirked, feeling her gaze on him, and the wave of arousal that hit his nose was a new one.

Her eyes slipped lower, hovering over his crotch. The black of his dress pants was damp where his cock rested, only half-hard now and less aching. She reached for him and he dropped his head in the crook of her neck, taking a deep breath. The rough fabric mixed with the sound of her moans and the taste of her all over his tongue had been enough to make him come apart in seconds. She hadn’t even finished before he did, but he got her there in the end.

“That was enough for you?” she asked him. Her fingers met the tip of his clothed cock, playing with the cum that had soaked into his pants. Sucking her now glistening thumb between her lips, she sighed at the familiar taste. 

He answered without a word, capturing her lips in another searing kiss. Her hands grew desperate again. She fiddled with the buttons on his shirt and his belt buckle, but they wouldn’t open. 

Only one flick of his fingers and the leather of his belt loosened. “Easy tiger,” he mused. She pulled it out with the most adorable pout, joining her bra on the floor. “Haven’t you had enough yet?”

She pulled at his hair, beyond frustrated. “Shut up and get naked!”

“Alright, if you insist.”

Matt rolled off of her, standing in all his glory at the foot of the bed. She sat up on her elbows, watching him undress slowly enough she could tell he did it on purpose. But God, did she enjoy the show. 

He stepped out of his pants first, discarding them with the rest of their clothing, followed by his shoes. he was left in his boxers and sweat-stained dress shirt. She bit her lip. He didn’t move for a good thirty seconds and she wondered if he changed his mind. Just as she was about to open the buttons for him, cunt aching with the need for his cock, he tore the shirt open with his bare hands and absolutely no regard for his shirt. 

Her breath got caught in her throat. The scars that adorned his chest shone almost silver in the purple atmosphere that filled the room, reflecting off his eyes and his teeth, making him seem like a fairy, almost. He was an angel, something only to be found in fairytales - he was a rarity, something not many could have, but she did. Eliza had him and the show he put on was for her alone. Only she was allowed to see him at his most vulnerable and touch him so sensually. 

At that moment, he could have done anything to her and she would have followed. He owned her. 

“Fuck me,” she growled. “Tear your clothes off more often, I dare you.”

Matt snorted. “I wouldn’t have anything left to wear,” he said.

“Exactly.”

She sat up on her knees, the bed creaking under her weight. He grabbed her face softly and pulled her lips against his. She moaned into the kiss. His hands stroked over the scars on her back as she traced the ones on his. It was almost innocent, the way they touched each other. 

Her hands disappeared beneath the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down, too. He was naked now, just like her, and she could only stare in awe at the fully hard size of his length. 

“Fuck,” she growled in the back of her throat, “You’re so beautiful.”

“Says you,” he replied, kissing her again, pouring his entire soul into the way he held her against him, heartbeats soon beating in the same rhythm and bodies yearning for each other.

She kissed the weeping tip of his cock, licking a long stripe up the base of him. His hand tangled in her hair and he sighed, the feeling all too familiar. But this wasn’t his plan for tonight.

“Not tonight, sweetheart,” he told her. “Tonight is about you.”

“But,” she began.

“No, I mean it. No blowjobs today.”

She pouted and it was truly adorable.

Matt pushed her onto her back, slotting himself between her thighs again. His cock rested against her stomach as he continued making out with her, not rushing anything, just feeling her up and down with his mouth and hands alone.

Finally, after what felt like a billion light years, he grabbed her leg to hook it around his waist. 

“Lift your hips for me, my love,” he said.

He slid a pillow under her lower back, positioned the head of his cock against her entrance, and then leaned down to her again, pressing his nose tightly against hers. 

She pulled him down, breaking the distance. As her lips collided with him, he thrust forward and buried his cock inside of her to the hilt in just one swift motion. Her mouth dropped open, passing the softest moan, and he forced his tongue into her mouth in the process, exploring the warmth that consumed her in more ways than one. 

He didn’t move, he stayed for a moment, reveling in his right she was around him. Every time he was inside of her, she hugged him just right. It was a feeling he could never tire of. His cock felt at home buried between her folds, swallowed and claimed by her every time he fucked her, able to pull orgasm after orgasm out of that beautiful person and render her mindless. Her pleasure belonged to him, as did she. The necklace around her neck proved it. He hadn’t bought it because he owned her but because he knew her better than anyone and loved her more than anything and he knew that she had an Affiliation for such small gifts with a lot of thought behind them.

But he also bought it because he, indeed, owned her and everyone could know that. The same way they would see the hickeys and know she was taken. 

“Matthew,” she moaned his name right into his ear, sending his already hypnotized senses into overdrive. “Look at me,” she said. “And fuck me, please. I need you. I need you to move.”

His hand fisted the sheets above her head. His reserves crumbled. He grabbed the leg that he had thrown over his hip and held it close against him as he started to thrust his cock into the tight confines of her pussy. What started as slow strokes soon enough turned into vigorous movements of his pelvis as he drove home into her most sensitive spot, tickling all the sweet, lewd sounds out of her. They spilled from her lips like wine and he drank them up, sucking them into his mouth and stealing her breath away.

His thrusts came hard and deep. Her heart echoed in his ears. He focused on how she clenched around him, how her nails raked down his back and were sure to draw blood. She bit into his shoulder to keep herself from screaming and he grunted, changing the angle so that he could hit even deeper and feel even more of her, her leg now almost over his shoulder, the other flat against the mattress.

“God,” her head thrashed wildly as she clenched down on him, “You feel so fucking good. Fuck!”

It wasn’t enough. He wanted to drown in her, become one and never wake up again. 

In her delirious state, the words she uttered and the sounds she made were senseless. “More,” she breathed. “Feels so good. Please, Matthew. Harder.”

“Yeah?” He stroked her hair back. “You feel so fucking good too. I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk.”

She looked into his eyes when she moaned this time, he could feel the full extent of her pleasure coursing through his veins at the same speed. 

“Is that what you want, baby? For me to fuck you until your legs are shaking and you’re ruined with my cum buried deep inside you?”

“Yes!” She met his thrust. “Fuck, yes! Please.”

Matt kissed her, deep and passionately. “You were made for me.”

Her legs tightened around his waist, heels digging into the curve of his ass, and one of her hands joined to claw at the cheek. 

But she was still not close enough.

“Turn around,” he said. “Need to be deeper. Need you to take my cock deeper like a good girl. Need you to swallow me whole, baby.”

She whined at the loss of him, but followed his instructions nonetheless. He repositioned the pillow so it rested under her stomach now, tilting her hips enough to make her comfortable and for him to dive as deep as he humanly could. He sank back into her smoothly, her walls tighter now, and she could feel every vein of his cock the same way he could feel the exact texture of the velvety walls of her pussy clenching around him. 

“That’s it. Fuck! You’re so tight.“

The sound she let out bordered on a gurgled scream, one hand reaching behind her to cradle his head. He buried his nose in her neck with every thrust, holding her hips in place by locking an arm around her. That way, he could even press down on her lower stomach, and that was enough to finally get the scream of his name to fill the bedroom. 

He reveled in the sound of the echo, the clear arousal, desperation, and mindlessness of her voice, and the way she said his name. The volume was rather tame for a scream, but the octave was high and uncontrolled. Her hips rocked back into him and he hit her g-spot just right every time he brought his hips forward to plunge his cock completely into her again.

There would be blood on him the next day from how hard she scratched him, but he got off on the pain. He wanted her to dig harder, if that was even possible, pull just a little more on the strands of his hair and bite down on his forearm. 

He sunk his teeth into her shoulder. She keened, cunt clenching around his cock as the wave of her orgasm became this close to crashing in on her.

“Matthew, please,” her voice was raspy, “I’m so close.”

“I know,” he said. “I know, baby, me too. You just gotta hold on a little more, yeah?”

“Fuck!”

“Can you be a good girl for me and wait until I tell you to cum?”

Thrashing her head around, she still managed to nod. “Yes.”

Anything for him.

The straight position started to grow uncomfortable, so she tried to angle her leg a bit further up. Matt caught her. For a second, she feared he might punish her for trying to change position, but instead of scolding her, he helped her bend her knee enough so she could have some leverage and he held her that way with each of his thrusts, using the newfound space to circle his fingers around her aching clit. Eliza shivered, goosebumps following where his lips brushed her neck and her nipples kept rubbing against the silk sheets.

He could feel his cock disappearing inside of her while he rubbed at the sensitive bundle of nerves. He felt how perfectly he fit and right where he split her open. 

The temptation was stronger than his common sense. 

She bit down on his arm when he decided to plunge a finger into her tight, already abused hole at the same time his cock stretched her out. She was full beyond anything she had deemed possible before. He was everywhere and there was no space for her to move. She could clench, but there was no way she could get any tighter than that, and the wetness only did so much to keep the burning at bay. 

The added size made her cry out, though instead of causing indescribable pain, it turned her on even more. The orgasm knocked on her door, ready to crash in. 

She gasped, “Please, Matthew, can I- fuck! Can I cum?” she asked. “I’m so close, please.”

He wasn’t sure how long he could keep this going, so he nodded breathlessly, giving her permission to, “Let go for me.” And with the way he kept thrusting into her with both his cock and one of his fingers, his thumb still rubbing her clit and his moans filling her ears like the most beautiful symphony, she came fast and screaming for him, face smushed into the pillows and body shaking.

Matt’s finger slipped from her cunt. He grabbed at her ass, pulling her against him. The flesh jiggled and he couldn’t help but bring his palm down on the tender flesh. Again, again, again, and again. The sounds she made bordered on broken sobs. Her nipples rubbed against the silk sheets as his thrusts grew more vigorous, and the stimulation to the sensitive nubs on her chest had her clenching around him again in no time. 

She reached back to grab his ass, holding him so deep inside of her, his tip rested against her cervix. “God, Matt, fuck!” He had her in a metaphorical chokehold, her body only responding to the pleasure he gave her and it was enough to have her bordering on the edge of climax.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he said. “Cum again for me.” He forcefully pulled her hips flush against his, cock resting at the right angle that it pushed all the way down on her g-spot and she came again with a loud cry of his name and her legs shaking harder than the world she was in. 

His thrusts grew sloppy, and he followed only shortly behind with his release. With his hips glued to hers, his cock twitched and he came, cum spurting into her pussy, and he stayed right where he was, wanting to feel every last convulsion of her walls around him.

He panted heavily into her ear, “Good job,” he said. “You took me so well. All of me. I’m so proud of you, baby. I love you so much.”

When he pulled out, he could hear his cum dripping out of her hole, down her clit, and her thighs. She jolted against the cold air. He stroked over her ass cheeks again, collecting his cum and shoving it back inside of her.

“Don’t want to waste anything,” he told her.

She whimpered, though she let him overstimulate her and stuff her to the brim with his seed. Only like this could she feel complete. It was obscene and sinful but God, she loved walking around with his cum as a sign of being marked more than anything. A dirty fantasy she carried around with her all hours of the day. She needed him so badly, no matter where she was or what she did. It was almost as if she was addicted to him and all the acts of service he could provide in and out of the bedroom.

Her cunt spasmed, his cum leaking again. He sighed at the sound and the scent of them both mixed into a cocktail.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed. “You have no idea how badly I want to taste us together.”

His tongue swiped over her lower back first, then her ass cheeks.

“Can I just…” He stopped just above her folds. “Give me another one,” it wasn’t a question anymore. “Just one more, sweetheart. One more orgasm and we’re done. I just want to taste you so badly.”

That he wasn’t completely exhausted yet surprised her, but that man was known for his high stamina and pain tolerance. Overstimulation was nothing new to him and he seemingly enjoyed eating her pussy until she was shaking.

She was useless, she couldn’t fight back, not even when his tongue met her folds. He licked a long stripe over where the aftermath of their orgasms mixed. The taste was phenomenal. He shoved his tongue inside of her, hazy and high. She had a safe word, but she enjoyed this as much as he did, so she let it happen.

She met the feverish thrusts of his tongue, keeping her thighs spread with his veiny hands. He fucked her deliciously, her clit brushing the pillow underneath with every gentle smack to her ass. 

It wasn’t long before the knot of pleasure tightened in a painful twist, her cunt pulsating with the release and her muscles too weak to wait for him to tell her.

“Matt-“

“I know.”

She came on his tongue for the third time that night, coating his face in both her arousal and what was left of his cum, which he hadn’t lapped up yet. He took it eagerly, cleaning her up with desperate moans and whimpers, grunting every so often when his tongue picked up traces of her sweat and tears in the mix.

One last smack and he was gone, finally yet, unfortunately. She panted into the sheets, gone into a world where time and space didn’t exist. She was just floating around in gray matter. 

A large hand stroked up her heated back until it reached her neck, gently brushing the hair away before Matt kissed her shoulders. He worked on the tense muscles, using his fingers for something other than pleasure this time as he tried to coax her back to life.

The rubber of the garter belts he left on started to burn. She lifted her hips. “Matty, take them off,” she whispered. “Get them off, please.”

He nodded, slipping them down her legs and off. “There you go. I’m sorry,” he returned to whispering gentle praises into her ear, “You did so well for me.”

She relaxed slowly. The thudding of her heart in her ears moved into the distance and the earth came to a halt. She stopped spinning around her axis, the air in her lungs returning to where it was supposed to be. While her limbs kept shaking and her clit pulsated with every breath she took, she slowly started to come back to herself, and the haze of pleasure turned more into a state of relief than submission. 

After a while, she turned her head to the other side. Matt lay on his side, finger carding through her hair absentmindedly. The glaze over his eyes told her all she needed to know. He was just as done and thoroughly fucked out as she was. The silence managed to slow their heart rates back to a healthy speed. 

He smiled when he felt her eyes on him and she smiled back, tired but alright. “Hi,” she murmured. 

“Hi,” he said. 

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For doing this.”

He shook his head, chuckling softly before pressing a kiss to her forehead. He told her once before she didn’t have to thank him for doing nice things or even having sex with her, to begin with, but she told him she wouldn’t stop, so he had to accept it. 

She would eventually start accepting this as a regular occasion and orgasms would no longer feel like a rarity she had to thank him for but rather like something she had every right to. 

Rubbing his thumb over the bridge of her nose, the one button he could press to instantly calm her down, Matt asked, “Do you need anything?”

But Eliza only shook her head. “Just stay with me like this,” she said. 

“Okay, I can do that.”

“And then I need a shower.”

She smacked her lips. 

“How about I get you some water first?” he suggested. “And then we can rest for a bit.”

The bottle next to the bed was empty, he had to get up to get a new one. 

She gave him an incredulous look but gave in eventually when her throat started to hurt from the dehydration. She nodded, letting go of his arm so he could move into the kitchen and retrieve two fresh bottles from the fridge. 

She took it gratefully, downing the entire thing in one gulp. 

She didn’t care that she was covered in cum, spit, tears, and smudged makeup. All she cared about was lying in his arms for a few minutes and forgetting the world existed, which it didn’t have with him around. Their sex bubble was her favorite place to be and she had missed it, even though it had been just a week. A week without sex with a man like Matt was an arduous task, especially for an addict. Eliza was down so bad, she missed having an actual sex drive to have sex with him. She hadn’t been horny and she still missed sex with him. He had that much power over her. He taught her what pleasure truly meant and she couldn’t get enough of it. 

With her back pressed to his chest and his arm around her shoulder, they lay there for a while. She played with his fingers, releasing the tension in them by cracking his knuckles. In return, he ran his hand over the knee, calf, and upper thigh that she had placed over his leg, feet planted on the mattress. He enjoyed the feel of her soft skin under his fingertips. 

The room smelled of them, of sex and love and her perfume that lingered on the dress, as well as the water from the sprinklers they had danced through. 

She loved him more than anything, and she would gladly risk getting cold again and again for a chance to be so carefree with him. And the sex was a nice way to end the night indeed. 

But it wasn’t quite over yet. Matt’s eyes fluttered open suddenly, his head tilting toward the window. Eliza looked at him, worry etched in her features. She knew that look. He had heard sometimes and continued to listen. It must be serious, she thought. He usually tried to pry himself away and focus on her, but not even the hand on her heart grounded him this time. 

She touched his bicep. “What’s wrong?” she asked, the sheets slipping from her body slightly as she sat up. 

Matt jumped out of bed, back into his boxers, and stalked toward the window. He tilted his head again, hand placed on the wall and his ear close to the shut window. She watched his eyes twitch every time he heard something new, the source of the noise finally in his reach. His knuckles turned white from how hard he grabbed onto the stonewall. 

She threw the covers off her body with a prolonged sigh, slipped into his ruined dress shirt, and walked out of the bedroom, only to return a few minutes later with his suit in hand. 

Matt only returned half of his attention to her when she shoved the leather into his hand. “Go,” she said, the faintest of smiles on her face. 

And she meant it. She wasn’t mad or upset with him for wanting to choose Daredevil as if it was the primal need of a werewolf to change during a full moon. He hesitated, fighting with himself. The woman he loved was half-naked in his bed, they’d just had sex and he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in her arms. 

But the city needed him. The women at the docks screaming for help before being carted away as means to make money needed him. They reminded her so much of what happened to her and the kids at the White Room, he couldn’t ignore this nagging feeling of the need to jump in and beat these disgusting creatures who took them senseless, enforce at least some justice and drop them mindless before the police station. 

Hell’s Kitchen needed Daredevil. He had to come out of hibernation, and she offered that escape to him. He didn’t have to feel guilty, she wanted him to. She wanted him to be who he needed to be because she chose him, both of them, Daredevil and Matt Murdock, the lawyer by day and vigilante by night, and the occasional devil in the sheets. 

It was Daredevil who saved her life all those weeks ago, after all.

She shook the hand that held his suit. “Go,” she repeated her previous word. “Put the suit on, Matt, and go. It’s okay,” she said. 

He made his decision. He took the leather, ignoring how much bleach it reeked, and pressed a loving kiss to her lips, holding her chin in place. 

“Thank you,” he breathed. And he added, louder this time, “I love you so much.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, nodding in the direction of the staircase to the roof. “Get your cute butt into that suit and save your city.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. 

Right before he could leave though, she put a hand on his arm, the knowing and proud smile mixing what that of worry. She kissed him again, softly, carefully, not wanting him to break. 

“Be careful out there,” she said, “and come back to me in one piece.”

“I will,” he reassured her with a gentle tap on her nose. 

She tapped his back and retorted, “Good.”

“Get some sleep.” Pecking her lips, which proved to her that he was still hesitant to leave, he put the cowl on. The red eyes of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen stared down at her and she had never felt more proud of him for overcoming his fear. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay?”

She slapped his ass on his way up. “Okay.”

“I will note that and get you back.”

“Oh, please do.”

“Don’t start this now, sweetheart, or you won’t get any sleep tonight.”

The couch cushion she threw after him hit the door right as he closed it. His laugh rang out from the other side and she shook her head, trying to look serious, but she failed miserably. 

In the breeze of the wind, he was gone and she was left alone in his dark apartment, slightly anxious and hoping he would come back to her with all his limbs still intact. But this was Matt Murdock. If anything his father taught him it was how to take a punch, and he swore to always come back to her, no matter the circumstances, so she went to bed anyway, praying to a God she didn’t believe him to bring her devil back home to her in one piece.

And he would, in time, because Matt would always get back up when he was beaten down. Always.

[starboye]

movies

(fics ive made)

*updated regularly

smut = ★

angst = 🏹

fluff = 🍥

Rafe Cameron-

First Timer★

Dealer!Rafe Cameron★

The Cameron Boys★

A Night to Remember★

Please be Mine★

Satisfaction★

Sleepy Convos★

Risky Call★

Morning Rafey★

Jj Maybank-

Yard Worker!Jj Maybank★

Double Team★

Nate Jacobs-

jealousy, jealousy★🏹

brat★

A Feeling Unknown🍥

My Cum Toy★

Nick Nelson-

Cheater★🏹

Cheater pt2★🏹

Cheater pt3★🏹

Cheater pt4🏹

Charlie Bushnell-

Fair Date★🍥

Vinnie Hacker-

Streamer Head★

Drunk Fun★

Sly Boy★

Birthday Present★

Bryce McKenzie-

Addicted★

Kj Apa-

Model★

Breed Me★

Free Use★

Baby By Me★

Matt Sturniolo-

Beach Day🍥

Morning Horny★

Quickie★

Movie Night Teaser★

My Nerdy Boy★

First Time★

Harry Collett-

Video game Lover★

Charles Leclerc-

Need Love★

Chris Sturniolo-

Gamer🍥

Movie Night Gone Right★

You're Mine★

Overstimulation★

Stream Tease★

David Corenswet-

Daddy's Boy★

Manu Rios-

Work For It★

Harry Styles-

Make Up or Make Out★🍥

Ross Lynch-

Double Trouble★

Dylan Minnette-

Double Trouble★

Shower Time★

Steve Rogers-

First Date★🍥

The Boys-

Table Talk★

Drew Starkey-

Hot Jealousy★

An Award of my Own★

Your Brothers Best Friend★

Nico Greetham-

Sweaty Love★

Noah Beck-

Rough Love★

Chris Hemsworth-

My Boy★

John B-

Double Team★

Prince Henry-

My Good Side🍥

Ryan Reynolds-

Tease★

Brady Hepner-

Wild Side★

My Use★

Sam Golbach-

Newly Weds★🍥

Colby Brock-

Newly Weds★🍥

Tanner Buchanan-

Edged★

Chris Evans-

Lesson Learned★

Ryan Garcia-

Breakfast in Bed★

Ethan Landry-

Ghost 🏹

Eijiro Kirishima-

Gamer Fuel★

Katsuki Bakugo-

Gamer Fuel★

Jacob Elordi-

Free Use★

Jack Harlow-

A Want★

Scott Summers-

Time Fucked★

Stiles Stilinski-

A Dream Cum True★

Richard Madden-

Work Pet★

Steve Harrington-

Gay For You★

Hughie Campbell-

Shy Boy★

Bellamy Blake-

Supply Collectors★

Jensen Ackles-

Hard Worker★

Prince Ben-

New Kid★🍥

Harry Hook-

New Kid★🍥

Rudy Pankow-

My First Time★🍥

Simon "Ghost" Riley-

Bf Headcanons★🍥

Phone Sex★

A Gift★

Captain Price-

Bratty★

Chace Crawford-

Co-Star Fun★

Bill Skarsgard-

Affair★

Dick Grayson-

Wounds★🏹

Robby Keene-

Winner Winner★

Noah Centineo-

Bed Breaker★

Jake Gyllenhaal-

Spiderman Far From Done★

Tom Holland-

Spider Man Far From Done★

Wolverine-

Fucked Senseless★

Hole Used★

Deadpool-

Hole Used★

Joe Goldberg-

My Husband🏹

Lip Gallagher-

New Feeling🍥

Rome Flynn-

My Bitch★

Joe Burrow-

Letting Off Some Steam★

Charles Melton-

Gym Bros★

[kaalee]

This one was *everything* 🧜‍♂️ 🌊🩵

Second part of the Charlie pov.

We spend some time with Charlie and his friends. And then just with Charlie.

(warning: contains merman smut 🧜🏼‍♂️🔥)

[cutecurly-hair]

Hearts Unleashed (Part 6)

Pairing: Nick Nelson x Black!fem!reader

Warning: Fluff, Smut in later chapters, Body Shaming

Words: 6,417

It has been a minute since I uploaded, but I made it up to yall by making this chapter a LOT longer. Enjoy!

"You don't know what you're talking about," I finished as I bit into my banana. Charlie rolled his eyes for the fifth time this morning, taking a bit of his breakfast sandwich and throwing the rest in the garbage.

"I swear your love life needs some proper tending to or it is just going to end up nonexistent,"

"How can you throw that away, I could have finished it for you," I protested, looking at banana resentfully. Mother only gives me fruits for breakfast or protein bars since she thinks having carbs first thing in the morning is terrible for the diet.

Charlie shook his head, his expression a mix of amusement "The sandwich was terrible, you wouldn't like it," which I knew was a lie.

"Ok enough about me, what about you! How are you and that guy you were talking with I completely forgot his name," Charlie face fell, quickly regretting on even asking.

Charlie scratched his head, a sheepish grin appearing on his face. "Um, actually, I decided to break things off."

I blinked, surprised by his response. "You did? Why?"

Charlie sighed; his expression somber. "It's just… things weren't working out between us. We wanted different things, and it was causing too much strain on the relationship. If there was even a relationship"

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, genuinely feeling for him. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, though his smile was wistful. "Yeah, I'll be fine. It's for the best, really."

I reached out, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "If you need anything, I'm here for you, Charlie."

"Thanks, Y/N," he said, his voice appreciative. "I appreciate that." I knew something was up, he had that look on his face far too long, I can tell it's starting to eat him up badly.

As we walked towards the school gates, I noticed a gathering of the rugby team, and my heart sank as I recognized Nick among them. And standing right beside him was Imogen.

"Just when you think things couldn't get any worse," I muttered under my breath.

Charlie's expression darkened as he caught sight of them too. "Of all the days..."

I could feel Charlie's stare intensely at the side of my skull, his concern palpable. It was clear that seeing Nick and Imogen was the last thing I needed on top of everything else.

"Do you want to, you know, avoid them?" Charlie asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

I let out a resigned sigh. "I wish we could, but unfortunately I have practice with him after school." We haven't talked ever since that night, he hasn't messaged me, and I haven't messaged him. It seems that everything has been put on pause I swear this boy is just giving me a straight whiplash to Tara Jones and now Imogen.

"You can probably ditch," Charlie suggested, offering a glimmer of hope. "I'm sure Coach Singh won't mind, plus I can probably cover for you."

The thought of skipping practice tempted me, but then I remembered the inevitable consequence: being bombarded by my mother's relentless fitness regimen. She had been devouring articles on quick weight loss methods before spring started, and I wasn't ready to endure another lecture about healthy living.

I shook my head firmly. "Nope, I will definitely be at practice. I'll just head to the library and study while I wait for them to finish, then clean the locker room." he nodded in understanding.

"Thanks, Charlie," I said sincerely, feeling grateful for his support. But as I glanced over at Nick, I noticed him saying something to Imogen, causing her cheeks to flush with a bright smile. My mouth turned sour, and I quickly grabbed Charlie's arm, leading him through the gates.

"Let's go before we miss out on breakfast from the cafeteria," I urged, my tone a little more urgent than intended.

Charlie furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "But we just ate?"

I swallowed hard, my stomach tying into knots. "I'm still hungry,"

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ +

Anywhere else in the world would be better than this classroom right now. I sink into my seat, doing everything I can to avoid looking at the one person I wish I could avoid the most.

I should have just skipped school entirely

"Hi,"

I glanced up reluctantly, meeting Nick's gaze. His smile was warm, but it only intensified the knot in my stomach.

"Hi," I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

His brow furrowed slightly, sensing my unease. "Is everything okay?"

I forced a smile, hoping it looked convincing. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just not feeling great today."

There was a moment of hesitation in his expression before he spoke again, his voice softer this time. "Do you want to go to Harry's party... with me?"

My heart skipped a beat at his unexpected invitation. I blinked, caught off guard "I don't think it's my type of thing and if it's for Harry definitely count me out," The guy was just a straight up asshole, there is nothing that can make me like that man, especially with the awful things he says.

"Please come. I want you to be there," he looked at me hopefully, and I couldn't ignore the sincerity in his eyes. It almost hurt to see him like this, his vulnerability making me soften.

"Okay," I smiled sheepishly, feeling a little guilty for giving in so easily. I could practically feel Charlie's eyes boring into the side of my head, likely already knowing that I was about to agree.

---

"I can't believe you did that," Charlie sighed, shaking his head. "I swear, you have the willpower of a peanut."

I chuckled nervously, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck. "Yeah, well… he practically begged me. There's no way I could have said no."

Charlie raised an eyebrow, a skeptical look on his face. "Begged you, huh? Sounds like quite the convincing argument."

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Well, you know Nick. He can be quite persuasive when he wants to be."

Charlie sighed, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I swear, you're like putty in his hands."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But I'm sure it'll be fine. Especially since you're coming with me."

Charlie raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Wait, what? I didn't agree to that."

I grinned, nudging him playfully. "Come on, Charlie. You can't let me face this party alone. Besides, it'll be more bearable with you there."

He sighed dramatically but smiled back. "Fine, I'll go. But only because I don't trust you to stay out of trouble on your own."

"Deal," I said, feeling a bit more confident about the party with Charlie by my side.

----------

The afternoon sun was beginning to set as Charlie and I rummaged through my closet, looking for something decent to wear to Harry’s party. My room was a mess, clothes strewn everywhere as we tried to find the perfect outfit.

Charlie held up a shirt, scrutinizing it before tossing it aside. “This one’s too plain. You need something that stands out.”

I groaned, flopping down on my bed. “I don’t even know why I agreed to this. Harry’s parties are always so... Harry.”

Charlie laughed, shaking his head. “Agree, but you’re doing this for Nick, remember? And besides, it’ll be good to get out and have some fun.”

I shot him a skeptical look. “You think hanging out with Harry and his crowd is fun?”

He thought for a moment, pulling out a vibrant top from the pile. "Absolutely not but we must preserve. But at least you won’t be alone. We’ll stick together.”"

I took the top from him, eyeing it critically. “Alright, I guess this could work. What about you? What are you wearing?”

He smirked, holding up a simple yet stylish outfit. “Already got it covered. Unlike you, I came prepared.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “Show-off.”

Charlie threw a pillow at me, laughing. “Hey, someone’s got to keep us looking decent.”

As I changed into the outfit he picked, Charlie sat on the edge of my bed, giving me a thumbs-up when I emerged from behind the closet door. “See? You look great. Nothing to worry about”

Just then, Charlie's phone buzzed, and I noticed his smile falter as he looked at the screen.

"Shit!" he muttered under his breath.

I turned to him, concerned. "What’s wrong?"

"Tao and Elle just texted me about film night tonight! I completely forgot," typing furiously on his phone.

Trying to lighten the mood, I suggested, "Hey, why don't we invite Tao and Elle? Nick definitely won't mind."

Charlie shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Tao would rather be caught dead than step foot into one of Harry's parties."

I laughed, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, you're right. But it’d be nice to have them around."

Charlie sighed, glancing at his phone again. "It's fine. Elle's going over there, and Isaac called in sick. He'll be okay," he said, slipping the phone into his back pocket.

I could already tell I was at the very top of Tao's shit list, and it wasn’t about to get any better.

We were halfway out the door when my mom's voice rang out, stopping us in our tracks.

"Do you kids need a ride?" she asked, looking up from her magazine with a hint of concern in her eyes.

I shook my head, forcing a smile. "No, thanks. Charlie's dad already offered to give us a lift."

"Alright then," she said, her gaze sweeping over my outfit. I can feel the eyes pouring at every single detail of what I was wearing, I knew she wouldn't say anything infront Charlie, she wouldn't do that to me "But honey, make sure to suck in your stomach. It looks a little chubby."

I was wrong

My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I forced a smile. "Got it, Mom."

Charlie gave me a sympathetic glance, his eyes full of understanding. "Ready?" he asked, trying to shift the mood.

"Yea," I replied, taking a deep breath, rushing out the door. "Let's get out of here."

As we stepped outside, the cool evening air hit my face, and I felt a mix of relief and lingering embarrassment. Charlie nudged me playfully.

"Don't let it get to you," he said with a grin. "You look great."

I smiled, grateful for his support. "Lets have some fun."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ +

"Pick up at 10, okay?" Mr. Spring said, glancing back at us in the rearview mirror.

I nodded absentmindedly, my attention drawn to the enormous house outside. The place was massive had Harry really rented out an entire hotel? Just how rich was he?

Charlie’s voice broke through my thoughts. "Can't it be 11?" he pleaded, looking at his dad hopefully.

"No, 10 is late enough," Mr. Spring replied firmly.

Charlie sighed, looking defeated as he got out of the car. "Fine," he muttered.

I quickly followed suit, turning back to say goodbye to Mr. Spring. "Thanks for the ride!"

"Have fun, you two!" he called after us as we stepped into the cool evening.

The smell of cheap perfume and artificial vape flavors filled my nose. There was a long line of people, and everywhere I looked, girls were squeezed into tight dresses, their faces caked with makeup. I started to wonder if we were at the right party. Thank God Charlie helped me pick out my outfit, or I would have stood out like a sore thumb.

Charlie nudged me with a grin. "I could have used your help back there, you know?"

I shot him a flabbergasted look. "You're crazy if you think I was going to argue with your dad."

Charlie laughed, shaking his head. "Fair enough. But you owe me one."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just get inside before I change my mind."

We joined the line, inching our way forward as the music thumped louder with every step. The hotel loomed above us, lights flashing from every window, just from taking a peek inside I can definitely tell that Harry went all out.

We stepped inside, the noise and lights hitting us full force. People were everywhere, dancing, laughing, and shouting to be heard over the music. I didn't know which way to look; it was so crowded. Charlie grabbed the hem of my top so he wouldn't get lost in the crowd. My palms were starting to sweat.

The sheer volume of people and the pulsing music made my head spin. Charlie leaned close to my ear, his voice barely audible over the noise. "Let'd find somewhere quiet I can barely hear myself think."

I nodded, my heart pounding feeling the bass within my body. We pushed through the throng of people, dodging couples and groups of friends. Every corner seemed to hold a new spectacle: a group of girls taking selfies, a guy attempting an impressive but ultimately disastrous dance move. The flashing lights made my head feel fuzzy.

I was already overstimluted and I haven't been here for five minutes. "Do you want to get a drink?"

He nodded in agreement. "Good idea. I swear, did Harry invite the whole city?" Charlie looked frazzled; it seemed he wasn't doing any better than me.

We walked down a quieter hallway, only a few people milling about. "You stay here; I'll go get the drinks," Charlie said, glancing back at me with a smile.

I nodded gratefully, leaning against the wall to catch my breath, trying to ignore the overpowering smell of smoke and alcohol that filled my nose. Charlie disappeared into the crowd, and I took a moment to collect myself, looking at myself in the mirror. My curls seemed to be frizzing up from the humidity, and I quickly ran my fingers through them, trying to tame the wild strands.

Nearby, a table was filled with enough snacks and drinks to feed an army. I made my way over, deciding a quick bite might help settle my nerves. Mother would actually kill me if she saw me eating this stuff.

I grabbed a handful of chips and popped them into my mouth, the salty crunch grounding me a bit. I picked up a cup of the red liquid and took a gulp, but quickly grimaced at the terrible aftertaste.

Looking around the room, trying not to get knocked down by stumbling people who had clearly had enough to drink, I spotted a familiar face in the crowd. I could feel the heat rising in my face as I realized it was Nick.

Spotting me instantly, a look of relief filled his face. He started making his way through the crowd. "I have been looking for you!" we said in unison.

Even in the chaos of the party, I couldn’t help but notice how good he looked. His hair was perfectly tousled, and his smile lit up his eyes, making my heart skip a beat. He had this way of making me feel like I was the only person in the room. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. No matter how overwhelming things got, just seeing him made everything easier.

Nick and I exchanged a warm smile, “How about we go grab a drink?” he suggested, his voice soft but somehow cutting through the noise.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” I agreed, feeling a little more at ease with him by my side.

We made our way through the crowded room, and every time someone bumped into me, Nick would gently place his hand on my back, guiding me forward. It was such a small gesture, but I couldn’t ignore the tingling sensation it left behind.

Finally, we reached the drinks table, a mix of colorful concoctions laid out before us. Nick picked up a couple of cups, handing one to me with a playful grin. “I think this one’s safe,” he said, making me think back to that horrid red liquid from earlier.

I laughed, taking the cup from him. “Let’s hope so. I had one earlier, and I swear I thought it was roofied.”

He immediately looked concerned. "Sorry about that. I forgot how some of Harry's parties can get kind of crazy. I was even debating whether to come," he admitted, staring down at the red cup like it was the bane of his existence.

"It's alright, really," I reassured him. "It’s good to hang out with your friends."

Nick shrugged, a small, honest smile tugging at his lips. "Ehh, they're not my 'friends friends.' It's a lot more fun hanging out with you."

I tried not to let my surprise show, but his words caught me off guard. The idea that he’d rather spend time with me than his usual Rugby buddies made my heart flutter. “Really?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual, though I could feel my face warming.

“Yeah, really,” he said, meeting my eyes with a sincerity that made my chest tighten. “I always have more fun when you’re around. Those guys are great, but they’re not...” he was trying to find the words

“Fun?” I offered with a teasing smile.

Nick’s eyes trailed off, lingering on mine for a moment longer before he nodded slowly. “Well, there’s never really a dull moment with you,” he said with a mischievous grin, “so I tend to keep you close. You know, just in case things get too boring I need someone to liven things up.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “So, I’m your emergency backup for fun?”

“Exactly,” he said, nodding with exaggerated seriousness. “In case this party sucks, I know who just to call .”

I playfully nudged him. “And here I thought you just enjoyed my company.”

“I do,” he said, leaning in slightly with a playful grin. “I just need someone to keep me entertained”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Well, I’m flattered to be your go-to for fun. I have to say, your backup plan is working pretty well tonight.”

Nick grinned, shaking his head. “I’m just glad that your here, I swear I barely know anyone here"

Trying to play it cool, even though I was secretly thrilled that Nick was happy to see me, we made our way to a quieter corner of the party. We found a spot away from everything, where we could actually sit and talk without having to shout over the music.

"You know," Nick started with a grin, "I’ve been forcing my mum to play Mario Kart ever since you absolutely destroyed me at that game. Thought I might finally get a win somewhere."

I burst out laughing, nearly spilling my drink. "You’re practicing with your mom? That’s dedication! Even for you?"

"I'm being serious," Nick replied, his tone earnest. "I’ve never seen anyone play that good. You completely embrassed me"

I grinned, feeling a bit of pride. "Well, I’m glad I could leave such an impression. Guess all those hours of practice paid off."

Nick shook his head, still looking amazed. "You don’t understand. I’ve never been so thoroughly beaten at anything in my life. It was like you had cheat codes or something."

"Just pure skill," I teased, giving him a playful nudge. "Maybe next time I’ll teach you how to win," I teased, then quickly realized it sounded more flirtatious than I intended.

"I—"

Before he could finish, someone called out, “Nick!” From the number of times I’d heard that voice at practice, I could almost smell the narcissism dripping from it. Nick’s expression shifted to mild annoyance as he glanced over his shoulder.

“All right, mate,” Nick said, eyeing Harry up and down with a look of uneasy tolerance. Despite the size of the place, it seemed Harry’s presence was as unavoidable as ever.

“Why are you hanging out here? Bit boring, innit?” Harry asked, his gaze directly fixed on me. The group behind him exchanged knowing glances, their eyes lingering on me with an air of smugness. I shot him a withering glare, not liking where this was going.

Nick shot me a worried look, trying to diffuse the tension. “We just are”

Harry smirked, flopping down on the couch next to Nick and draping an arm around him as if marking his territory. “I’ve got important news for you,” he announced with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“Yeah, what?” Nick asked, clearly uninterested but trying to play along.

"Tara Jones is here" he annoucned gaining the ooos from the boys. My breath hitched, and a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. I knew coming here might have been a mistake.

Nick’s expression turned to confusion. “So, what?”

Harry looked around as if he couldn’t believe on what he was hearing. “This is your big second chance, mate. Let’s make it happen,” he said with a chuckle, Harry looking over at me "They kissed when they were thirteen. Proper romantic" egging on crowd. He says it like I have been dying to know but all I want to do right now is disapear.

“He should go for it, right?” Harry asked, his words dripping with smugness as he pretended to care about my opinion. I could see the tension building in Nick, his discomfort almost palpable. My own irritation was rising fast, and I was seconds away from telling Harry to back off, because if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s seeing Nick put on the spot like this.

"Come on, mate," Harry urged, tugging at Nick's arm to pull him up from the couch.

"Harry—" Nick started, his voice laced with protest.

"Come on. She’s just down the corridor,” Harry insisted, ignoring Nick’s reluctance.

Nick hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. "I haven't talked to her in years."

"So? She's super hot, man," Harry insisted, not letting up.

Nick barely had time to respond before Harry turned toward the crowd, calling out, "All right, ladies!" His voice carried through the room, gathering curious glances.

My stomach twisted as Harry’s words sliced through the noise, “Hey, Tara! I've got someone who wants to see you!” I glanced over, and there she was stunning in a way that made it hard to look away. My chest tightened as her eyes locked onto Nick, her smile effortlessly brightening the room. I could feel my heart sinking, a wave of insecurity washing over me. Tara wasn’t just beautiful; she was the kind of beautiful that made me question what I was even doing here.

The music drowned out their voices, but I could still see the way Tara’s eyes lit up as Nick talked to her. A tight knot formed in my chest as I watched, feeling like an outsider in a scene I didn’t belong in.

I’m so pathetic, I thought, standing here, just watching.

I slipped away, disappearing down the corridor, hoping to lose myself in the crowd and escape the sinking feeling in my gut. As I tried to shake off the unease, someone stepped in front of me.

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know where Charlie Spring is, would you?”

I glanced up, recognizing the boy but struggling to place his name. “No, actually, I’ve been looking for him too,” I admitted. After a beat, I added, “And you’re…?”

He smiled, looking a bit bashful. “Ben. We met a while back when you were trying to find the film club.”

It clicked, and I nodded, a small smile creeping onto my face. “Oh, right! I remember now. I can’t believe you still remember me,” I said, laughing a bit, though I couldn’t help but feel a bit flustered.

He chuckled softly, “You’re pretty hard to forget…” There was something in his tone that made the words linger, and I found myself blushing slightly.

A warm flush spread up my neck, I honestly had no idea how to respond to that, so I just offered a shy smile. My mind racing for something to say.

Ben’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “So, what are you doing hiding out back here? The party too wild for you?”

I shrugged, glancing back toward the crowd where Nick was still talking to Tara. “Yeah, something like that,” I mumbled. “Just needed a break from all the noise.”

Ben followed my gaze, his expression turning a bit more serious. “Ah, I see. Sometimes these things can be a bit... much.”

I appreciated his attempt to empathize, even if he didn’t know the half of it. “Yeah,” I agreed, nodding. “It’s just one of those nights, I guess.”

Ben seemed to sense my discomfort and shifted the conversation. “Well, if you ever need to disappear for a while, you can always come hang out with me. I’m more of a ‘quiet corner’ kind of guy myself.”

I smiled at that, feeling a little less alone. “Thanks, Ben. I might just take you up on that.”

Catching something in the corner of his eye, he gives me a fleeting smile and then quietly excuses himself. “I’ll catch you later,” he says, before slipping away, leaving me by myself…again.

Finding a lone couch off to the side, I flopped down onto it, feeling like I might as well get a goddamn trophy for being the lamest person in the room. I pulled out my phone, scrolling through notifications that didn’t interest me, my eyes glazing over texts from friends from back home and ignoring the persistent messages from my mother. Only an hour left before Charlie's dad picks us up. Time seemed to crawl, each minute stretching into an eternity.

I sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions, trying to disappear into the background.

"Hi," a familiar voice cut through the noise. I looked up to see Nick standing in front of me, his hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets. He offered a small, hesitant smile, as if unsure of whether he was welcome.

“Hey,” I replied, sitting up a bit straighter, surprised he’d sought me out again.

"You left."

"Sorry, I was just... starting to feel out of place. The guys can be somewhat intimidating," I admitted, my voice trailing off as I glanced at the crowd. It was a bit of the truth, but it didn’t fully capture how overwhelmed I felt.. Not like I am going to tell him that I have a crush on him, that would certainly make matter worse.

He shook his head, a subtle furrow creasing his brow. "Don’t be sorry," he said firmly, his tone edged with genuine concern. "Half of them are just... dickheads. I’m tired of being around them. I'd much rather hang out with you." His words were sincere, his gaze steady.

This was the second time I heard him say that, and I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face. But as the reality of his words sank in, a flicker of fear ran through me this was real, and that scared me.

I turned my gaze, my smile slipping as my heart raced. What if I was misreading this? What if he was just being nice? My thoughts tangled, and the crowd seemed to close in on me, the noise growing louder and more intense.

Just as I felt myself sinking, Nick reached out and took my hand. The warmth of his touch was immediate, grounding me in the present. His thumb gently brushed against the back of my hand, and I looked up to find his eyes still on me.

"Shall we go somewhere quieter?" he asked, his voice soft yet firm, offering me an escape.

I hesitated for a moment, my mind still reeling, but the gentle pressure of his hand, the way his fingers intertwined with mine, made the decision for me. I nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over me as I let him lead the way.

As we moved away from the noise, the tension in my chest began to ease. Nick glanced back at me with a playful smile, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"You want to race?" he teased, the challenge evident in his voice.

I couldn’t help but grin back at him. "You want to race me?" I repeated, already taking a quick step forward to get a head start, my laughter bubbling up as I broke into a run.

"Come on!" I called out over my shoulder, the thrill of the chase energizing my every step.

"Wait, stop!" he shouted, his voice tinged with both surprise and amusement as he sprinted after me, his footsteps echoing up the stairs.

"Unfair, you got a head start," he called out, his mock outrage only making me laugh harder.

"I'm dying!" Nick shouted, his voice breathless yet filled with laughter. I couldn’t believe it the star of the rugby team, gasping and trailing behind me in a race. The thought sent another burst of giggles through me as I glanced back to see him trying to catch up, his grin just as wide as mine.

"Am I hearing an old man complaining?" I teased, slowing down just a bit, but not enough to let him close the gap completely. The sight of Nick, usually so composed and confident, now playfully struggling to keep up, was a rare and delightful reversal that made me wish that we could run just a little while longer.

As we finally reached the top of the stairs, our breath still catching, pushing open the doors

We stepped inside, and I felt my breath catch again, but this time for an entirely different reason.

The grand ballroom before us was stunning. The ceiling reached up high, covered with detailed paintings, their colors bright even in the soft light of the chandeliers that looked like stars. The walls were lined with tall mirrors in fancy frames, reflecting the golden light and making the room feel even bigger.

Nick let out a low whistle, clearly as awestruck as I was. "Wow," he breathed, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space.

Nick shaking his head in disbelief. "Jesus, I knew Harry was rich, but this hotel must have cost him a fuck ton of money," he muttered, his tone a mix of awe and amusement.

I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound echoing softly in the grand room. "No kidding," I replied, glancing around at the opulence surrounding us. "I feel like this place matches his ego big and obnoxious."

Nick snorted, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah, it’s like he’s trying to outdo himself every time. Next thing you know, he’ll be renting out the Eiffel Tower"

I grinned, imagining the absurdity of it. I found a spot against the wall and sank down, admiring the shimmering lights and grandeur of the room. Nick settled beside me, his gaze following mine, but my thoughts were stuck on that moment from earlier. The way he looked at me, the way he said he’d rather hang out with me I couldn’t shake it. It felt like I was becoming delusional, this constant flutter of hope mixed with doubt. I just needed to know, one way or another, so I could either put this silly crush to rest.

"So..." I started, trying to sound casual, but the slight tremor in my voice betrayed me. "Was Harry being serious? Do you like Tara?"

The words felt heavy as they left my mouth, like they were dragging something deeper out into the open. I didn’t know if I was ready to hear the answer, but I had to ask.

Nick's eyes practically bulged out of their sockets. "What? No! No, definitely not," he blurted out, his voice rising in pitch with each word. The intensity of his reaction caught me off guard, making me question why I’d ever worried in the first place.

There was an awkward silence that hung in the air, thick and heavy. I fidgeted with my hands, suddenly hyper-aware of the tension between us.

"Uh… So… you don't have a crush on anyone at the moment?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual, though my heart was pounding in my chest. I forced myself to meet his gaze, hoping to find some clue in his expression.

He looked away from my gaze, his eyes shifting to the glimmering chandeliers above us. "Well, I didn't say that," he murmured, a hint of something unspoken lingering in his voice.

"Oh," I managed to say, though the disappointment in my voice was unmistakable. It felt as if the air had thickened, the silence resuming its heavy presence as if it had never left. The excitement and playfulness from earlier faded, leaving behind a quietness that neither of us seemed to know how to break.

I broke the quiet first, curiosity tinged with a hint of nervousness. “So, what’s she like, then?”

Nick’s eyes flickered up to meet mine, a trace of uncertainty shadowing his face. “You’re just going to assume they’re a ‘she’?”

“Oh,” I said, my voice softening with realization. “Are they… are they not a girl?”

He hesitated, his gaze drifting to the elegant patterns on the floor. “Um…”

I leaned in slightly, trying to read his expression. “Would you go out with someone who wasn’t a girl?”

Nick’s lips twisted into a thoughtful frown. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

I pressed on gently, my heart pounding. “Would you kiss someone who wasn’t a girl?”

He met my eyes again, his expression a mix of confusion and vulnerability. “I think… I think I might. But I’m not entirely sure yet.”

I nodded in understanding, my mind processing Nick's words. I was genuinely touched that he trusted me enough to share this, but the relief I expected didn’t quite come. Instead, a mix of embrassement and lingering dread churned inside me. The fear of complicating things or making him uncomfortable gnawed at me, my feelings for him never leaving.

“But I wouldn’t mind going out with a girl,” he said, his voice steady but revealing a hint of uncertainty. My head snapped up, meeting his eyes.

He continued, “I wouldn’t mind kissing a girl either.” His eyes searched mine, looking for a reaction. I didn’t know what to say. I turned to him, the question on the tip of my tongue, but the words wouldn’t come out.

His hand was so close to mine, just an inch apart; I could practically feel his warmth. The proximity made it hard to think straight, each moment stretching longer as I struggled to keep my composure. Our fingers were touching, and neither of us pulled away.

Nick glanced down at our intertwined fingers, his gaze lingering on them. He swallowed hard, his nervousness palpable. I took a deep breath, gathering my courage, and finally asked,

“Would you kiss me?”

Nick leaned in closer, tightening his hold on my hand. His voice was soft but steady. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes locked onto mine.

The distance between us shrinking until it was almost nothing. His lips hovered near mine, and I could feel his breath, warm and soft, tickling my skin. My heart raced, a wild, fluttery feeling in my chest as I waited, anticipation buzzing in the air around us.

His lips met mine in a sweet, delicate kiss that sent a rush of warmth through me. It was soft and tentative, like he was savoring every second. My senses where filled with his signature scent, the one that I have missed so much. The familiarity of it made my heart ache in the best way, and I found myself melting into the kiss, wanting to hold onto this moment forever.

Pulling away slowing we looked away from each other, I could hardly believe it Nick Nelson had just kissed me. I’d just had my first kiss… and I liked it.

Really liked it

I glanced over at him, my heart still racing, but he was already looking at me, his eyes soft and searching, as if he was trying to gauge my reaction. The realization that this moment was real, that it had actually happened, made my heart swell with something indescribable.

Without thinking, I reached out, my hand finding the back of his neck, and pulled him closer. I kissed him deeply, pouring everything I was feeling into that moment. He responded by pulling me in tighter, his arms wrapping around me as if he didn’t want to let go, the intensity of the kiss growing with every second. It was as if all the emotions we had been holding back finally found their release in that one, perfect moment.

I could hardly breathe when we finally pulled apart. Staring at him, I just couldn't look away.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

"1..." he began to say, but was cut off by the sound of Harry's voice echoing down the hallway.

"Nick, are you here?" Harry called out, his voice drawing closer. Nick's body tensed instantly, the warmth between us replaced by a sudden rush of panic.

"I just want to talk, mate," Harry's voice came closer, more insistent.

Nick pulled away immediately, standing up with a look of sheer panic. He glanced anxiously at the door, his body flinching at each echo of footsteps in the hallway.

"Why are you hiding?!" Harry's voice called out, growing louder and more frustrated.

Nick's gaze was locked on the door, his anxiety clear. Without a word, he took a final, fleeting glance at me an expression of regret or maybe apology flitting across his face. Then, he bolted out, disappearing through the door just as Harry's footsteps grew closer.

The sudden silence that followed was deafening. I sat there, trying to process what had just happened. The kiss had been amazing, but now it felt like a distant, shattered dream.

I felt confused, the warmth of the kiss now gone. My mind was filled with unanswered questions and a sudden ache. It felt like the ground had moved under me, leaving me with just the memory of his touch.

As I tried to steady my breath, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Glancing at the screen, I saw multiple messages from Charlie asking where I was and letting me know that his dad had arrived.

Banging my head gently against the wall, I couldn’t believe how quickly the night had gone from one of the most memorable to one of the worst.

Part 7 Link Here: https://www.tumblr.com/cutecurly-hair/763787688625192960/hearts-unleashed-part-7?source=share

[ao3feed-narlie]

it's hard being casual (when my favorite jumper lives in your dresser).

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/z5X4lVK by xoxo_n Was it casual when Nick and Charlie met at that house party? When they shared a night that neither of them would admit meant more than just a fling? Or was it casual when they started texting every day, finding excuses to spend more time together? They both swore it was completely no strings attached- zero commitment. But that was a lie because in every universe, there was nothing casual between Nick and Charlie. --- OR , Nick and Charlie meet at Leeds during Harry's party and spend a night together. They end up exchanging numbers end up confused on where their relationship exactly lies. Words: 10674, Chapters: 1/13, Language: English Fandoms: Heartstopper (TV), Heartstopper (Webcomic) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper), Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Elle Argent, Tao Xu (Heartstopper), Tara Jones, Darcy Olsson, Issac Henderson (Heartstopper), Benjamin "Ben" Hope, Imogen Heaney, Sai Verma, Otis Smith | Omar, Christian McBride (Heartstopper), Harry Greene, Sarah Nelson, Nellie Nelson, Henry Nelson (Heartstopper), Original Characters, David Nelson (Heartstopper) Relationships: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson/Charles "Charlie" Spring, Elle Argent/Tao Xu, Tara Jones/Darcy Olsson, Imogen Heaney & Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Elle Argent & Isaac Henderson & Nicholas "Nick" Nelson & Charles "Charlie" Spring & Tao Xu, Christian McBride & Otis Smith | Omar & Sai Verma Additional Tags: Friends With Benefits, Song: Casual (Chappell Roan), Casual Sex, Alternate Universe - College/University, Nick and Charlie meet at uni, Nick at Leeds, Smut, Angst, Miscommunication, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author is a Taylor Swift Fan, Nicholas "Nick" Nelson Loves Charles "Charlie" Spring, Nicholas "Nick" Nelson is a Taylor Swift Fan, Top Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Bottom Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper), Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper) has an Eating Disorder, Past Benjamin "Ben" Hope/Charles "Charlie" Spring, Benjamin "Ben" Hope is His Own Warning, Past Abuse, Praise Kink, Kinky Things Happen, Charlie serves cunt, Taylor Swift Song Lyrics, Inspired by a Chappell Roan Song, no beta we die like nick's heterosexuality, Good Parent Sarah Nelson, Drinking, Smoking, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Therapy, Relapses, Jealous Charlie Spring, Jealous Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Rugby Player Nicholas "Nick" Nelson read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/z5X4lVK

[xxroleplayfanaticxx]

Role-play request!

Hello! I roleplay!

I am 18+ and I'm looking for some roleplay partners. I am ok with oc x oc aswell and am picky with oc x canon but in some cases i will do it.

I'm semi literate to literate to even novella!

We can roleplay on discord.

My fandoms include:

Fiona and cake

Good omens

Top gun maverick

Miraculous

Pokemon

Rottmnt

Sam and max

Southpark

Detroit become human

BNHA

Don't hug me I'm scared

There is no game

Hamilton

Mlp

Mouth washing

Sonic

Looney tunes

TBHK

YouTubers

Rick and morty

Undertale

The Stanley parable

Fnaf

Portal 2

Heartstopper

Marvel

The amazing digital circus

Deadplate

Legends of avantris/once upon a witchlight

Hazbin hotel

Inuyasha

Zootopia

Delicious in dungeon

School bus graveyard

Ouran host club

The rise of the shield hero

poppy playtime

Not all feel free to ask!

Some ships I like(not all of them)

catnap x dogday (either)

Fluttercord (me as fluttershy)

Ash x Aiden (i can be ash)

Nick x judy me as judy

Puro x colin (me as colin)

Inuyasha x kagome (me as kagome or genderbent inuyasha)

Alastor x husk (me as preferably husk but I can be either)

Alastor x Ángel (me as either)

Alastor x Vox (preferably Vox but either)

Alastor x lucifer (either)

Angel x husk (either)

More for Hazbin just ask

Kremy x Gideon (me as kremy)

Frost x gricko (me as either)

Gricko x gideon (me as gricko)

Frost x Mr light (me as frost)

Charlie spring x Nick nelson

Vince x rody

Caine x Pomni with me as Pomni

Jax x Pomni with me as pomni

Caine x jax with me as either

Venom x eddie with me as eddie

Simon petrikov x any male character (me as simon)

Hankcon (me as Connor)

Stanarrator (me as either)

Aziraphale x Crowley (me as either preferably aziraphale)

Scarab x Prismo (me as scarab)

Ricky x Gordon (me as Ricky)

User x Game (there is no game me as user)

My rules Are:

No oneliners

No being helpless or OP

No spamming me I have a life yknow?

Give me something to work with.

I play certain characters and ships im a little picky! But don't be scared to ask! I'm ok with smut, Gore and pretty much anything. Just ask. No water sports, vore, or feet fetishes! Also im a bottom! I'm open to pretty much any plot if you are interested please add me on discord

Looking for someone who doesn't dissapear for more than a month without a heads up.

My discord:

inky_thekiki_

[gllrimes]

𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝑬𝒍𝒊𝒐’𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈!

𝑹𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔:

I will be writing smut, fluff, comfort, and angst. I'm not experienced with writing as much as other writers are, so don't expect the best.

No sa or rape of any sort because we don't tolerate that.

No piss/shit/fart kinks ya dirty fucks.

No pedophilia. Age gaps only can consist of five years apart in my story's when 18+

No human servitude.

I write for any sexuality and any gender.

I do write drabbles and hcs.

I don't write agere/little space on this blog, I'll set up another blog for that!!

I don't care how old you are I can't stop you from reading my stuff 😕🙏🏻

Requests are open!!

𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎𝒔 & 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓

The Walking Dead:

Rick Grimes

Carl Grimes

Daryl Dixon

Negan Smith

Glenn Rhee

Ron Anderson

Enid Rhee

Maggie Rhee

Michonne Grimes

(Bonus: I might write for others too. Maybe Shane idk.)

The End Of The Fucking World:

Alyssa Foley

James (last name unknown)

Heartstopper:

Charlie Spring

Nick Nelson

Tao Xu

Elle Argent

Darcy Olsson

Tara Jones

Sahar Zahid

Issac Henderson

13 Reasons Why:

Clay Jenson

Hannah Baker

Justin Foley

Alex Standall

Jessica Davis

IT:

Bill Denbrough

Richie Tozier

Beverly Marsh

Stanley Uris

Mike Hanlon

Henry Bowers

Patrick Hockstetter

Victor Criss

Belch Huggins

The Flash (IMDb):

Berry Allen

Cisco Ramon

Caitlin Snow

Harry Potter:

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

Ron Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Draco Malfoy

Tom Riddle

James Potter

Remus Lupin

Sirius Black

Mattheo Riddle

Theodore Nott

Regulas Black

Stranger Things:

Mike Wheeler

Will Byers

Jonathan Byers

Nancy Wheeler

Lucas Sinclair

Dustin Henderson

Steve Harrington

Henry Creel

Eleven

Eddie Munson

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid

Aaron Hotchner

Derek Morgan

Penelope Garcia

Jennifer Jareau

Twilight:

Bella Swan

Edward Cullen

Jasper Hale

Alice Cullen

Rosalie Hale

Carlisle Cullen

Emmett Cullen

Jacob Black

Seth Clearwater

Esme Cullen

Thirteen:

Tracy Freeland

Evie Zamora

Mason Freeland

Melanie Freeland

Anne With An E:

Gilbert Blythe

Anne Shirley

Dianna Berry

Cole Mackenzie

Jerry Baynard

The Goldfinch:

Theodore Decker (older and younger)

Boris Pavlikovsky (older and younger)

The Turning:

Miles Fairchild

Kate Mandell

Flora Fairchild (NO SMUT)

When You Finish Saving The World:

Ziggy Katz

Lila

American Horror Story:

Tate Langdon

Violet Harmon

Kit Walker

Lana Winters

Zoe Benson

Kyle Spencer

Cordelia Goode

Fiona Goode

Jimmy Darling

James Patrick March

Elizabeth/The Countess

Kai Anderson

Winter Anderson

Ally Mayfair-Richards

Austin Sommers

Mr. Gallant

Edward Mott

Rory Monahan

Shameless:

Fiona Gallagher

Lip Gallagher

Ian Gallagher

Mickey Milkovich

Mandy Milkovich

Carl Gallagher

I Believe In Unicorns:

Davina

Sterling

Tokio Hotel:

Bill Kaulitz

Tom Kaulitz

Georg Listing

Gustav Schäfer

Slashers/Halloween movies characters:

Max Dennison

Billy Loomis

Stu Macher

Sydney Prescott

Bo Sinclair

Lester Sinclair

Vincent Sinclair

Jason Voorhees

Freddy Kruger

Michael Myers

Jason Dean

Patrick Bateman

Brahms Heelshire

BONUS singers/actors/youtubers:

Sam Golbach

Colby Brock

Jake Webber

Albert (flamingo)

The Sturniolo Triplets

Finn Wolfhard

Noah Schnapp

And finally... ALEX TURNER 😋😋 (he's so husband material)

!!PLEASE USE THIS RESPECTFULLY AND WISELY!!

[amberlynnmurdock]

Blind Faith

Chapter 6: A Deal with the Devil

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: Matt, Foggy, and Karen take you out to Josie's. Your night always ends with Daredevil.

Warnings for this chapter: very mild smut at the end, sorry to leave you guys hanging, LOL.

A/N: I love writing Foggy Nelson. That is all.

TAG LIST (please let me know if I missed you/you'd like to be tagged!): @starry-night-20 @sumsytee @queerqueenlynn

Chapter 5 here

credit to gif owner!

 Hell’s Kitchen

Nelson & Murdock was an interesting law firm to work at. There was no rhyme or reason to the things they did or the way they operated, but you adapted fairly quickly to the revolving door of clients and how to speak to them. For now, Karen had you complete intake forms with everyone who came in. Greet them, ask them why they’re here, things like that. You enjoyed it a lot. 

“Thank you so much, Ms. Cruz,” you squeezed the elderly woman’s arm. “I’ll get your case details in our system and set up a meeting with either Mr. Nelson or Mr. Murdock.”

The older woman smiled at you graciously. “Gracias, señorita.” 

You stood up from your chair and walked over to Karen who fervently typed away at her computer. 

“Okay, all ten of the clients waiting are now ready to be inputted into the system,” you told her, holding a stack of manila folders and a clipboard. Karen looked up from her desk surprised. 

“Really?! You are amazing!” Karen exclaimed. You blushed and smiled at her, appreciating her praise. “I’ll have to get you your own laptop so you can learn how the system works. Seriously, how did you get through all of them without any issues?” 

You shrugged, “good old speaking like a human. I was never good with a customer service voice. It’s all about the approach, you know?” 

“Yes!” Karen smiled. “I’m so happy you’re here. I know Foggy and Matt are, too.” 

You smiled in return. You believed her, that she and Foggy were happy you were here. Matt, on the other hand, was a little strange. You didn’t want to make any assumptions, and you tried to be understanding. But he was very quiet around you, and never really tried to make any conversation like Karen and Foggy did. You found yourself going to them for questions first before you ever had to ask Matt something, which rarely happened. He was intimidating. The most you ever got out of him was an “excuse me” or “good morning.” Never anything more, never anything less. 

While the other two were very bright and bubbly, Matt seemed to always be in his own world. He didn’t join in any conversations you had with them, and he never offered help as Foggy did. You didn’t mind; you were just worried it might have been you he didn’t like. Then again, he was blind, so you knew his world was very different from your own. You didn’t let it get to you, and you just accepted that he was more guarded than the others. 

Karen flipped through the pages of clients you had just interviewed. Her brows were furrowed—her mind was going a million miles a minute. 

“Looks like this pile will be handled by Matt and this one, Foggy. Looks like Matt’s the winner today,” she realized. “I’ll give these to Foggy and run it by him. You can talk to Matt about his cases.” 

“Oh, uh, you sure? I…,” you trailed off, unsure what it was you were trying to object to. Your gaze fell toward Matt’s office. He was at his desk, brows furrowed with focus as his fingers ran over braille. 

Karen looked at you knowingly. “I know Matt’s quiet, but trust me, it’s not you. He’s just a little bit more focused at work. Not that we’re all not focused, but his focus is a little different.” 

You nodded, “I understand. I’ll run these cases by him.” 

“Let me know if you need anything, alright?” 

I need a drink, you thought. “Okay.” 

You turned on your heel and held the manilla folders in your hands, bracing yourself. You took a deep breath and walked to Matt’s office door, and knocked on it gently. 

“Come in,” he called out. 

You slowly opened the door and walked inside, gently shutting it behind you. 

“It’s me, __,” you announced slightly awkwardly. Matt smiled a little, behind his dark red glasses. 

“I know,” he replied, “I can recognize voices.” 

“Oh,” you said, nodding your head. Damn it, he can’t see a nod. “I—well, Karen said I should run by these new clients with you. I don’t know what she meant by it, but she said you’re the winner today.” 

“Hmm,” Matt hummed. “Means most of the cases are intentional torts. Please, sit,” he said in a friendly tone. Slightly caught off guard by his kindness, you sat in the chair in front of his desk. This conversation is the most you’ve spoken with Matt ever since you started just a few weeks ago. A memory popped into your head. You had shared an awkward encounter with Matt as he was leaving work one day—you asked if he needed help closing up anything but he was in a rush, and barely replied to you as he rushed out the door. 

“So, the first person I spoke with, Anna Campbell, has a claim her neighbor is taking pictures of her in her house…uh…” you flipped through the pages and cleared your throat. “Negligent employer case…assault outside of a club that may have been intentional and not a random crime of opportunity…” You read through the rest of the clients you just spoke with and watched Matt carefully for any reaction. He sat like a statue, with his brows scrunched and lips slightly pressed together, as he listened to you. His hands were together, fingers interlocked. You continued to speak. 

“Ms. Marisol Cruz. She was such a sweet woman. I feel really bad for her. She’s in a terrible apartment complex, with a high criminal element, and the landlord won’t listen or do anything about it. There are kids in the place, and she’s worried about them,” you explained Ms. Cruz’s story in more detail to Matt, since you felt a little more compassionate to her. You probably weren’t supposed to, but you couldn’t help it. “Her landlord says he needs proof of the element, or he won’t do anything. And she’s a frail woman, and she can’t do anything.”  

Matt stayed quiet for a moment longer. 

“Thank you, __,” Matt said after a bit. You smiled. 

You placed the files on his desk. 

“Oh,” you said, startling yourself, “you probably need these translated to braille. I’ll transfer them with the printer.” 

Matt smiled and stood up from his desk. His hands rested on his waist. Maybe the reason why you were so intimidated by Matt was because of how handsome you found him. His dress shirt fit snugly on his body, and the rare moments you did catch his smile, made your heart flutter more than you’d like to admit. 

“I appreciate that,” he cooly said. 

“Okay well, I’ll get on that now.” You turned to exit his office, but he called your name rather softly. 

“Just—just a word of advice,” he began to say, “I know it may be easy to feel more compassionate for some cases more than others. That can be a good thing. But it can also be dangerous. Don’t take the work home with you, is what I’m trying to say.” 

You considered his words for a moment and nodded in understanding. 

“I won’t,” you replied, “I promise.” 

He smiled lightly before sitting back down again. You left his office.

⣿⣿⣿⣿

After a busy afternoon at Nelson & Murdock, you found yourself in the conference room, transferring all the files you had today into the system they used. You were focused as you input all the information, listening to music as you did. Suddenly, Foggy came into the room. 

“There she is, the superstar client coordinator!” Foggy announced with a clap. You pulled your headphone out of your ear and smiled at him. Foggy had a way of radiating warmth and vibrant energy—you loved working with him. “I heard you got through everyone pretty quickly.” 

“I did!” you said, “it was quite enjoyable. I like talking to people and listening to them.” 

“That’s good. Great! Well, I came in here because, it’s six o’clock, Friday night, and you’re still working,” Foggy analyzed, rubbing his chin. “Aren’t you crazy kids supposed to be getting in all sorts of trouble?” 

You laughed, and then Karen came into the room. 

“She’s not a crazy kid, Foggy,” she defended, “she’s a bright, intelligent young woman who is bound to do great things in life.” You smiled at Karen. 

“I know, I know. But seriously, you’re still working?!” 

You shrugged, “I’m waiting for the okay to go home! Besides, I don’t want to leave anything unfinished.”

“Well, you've been doing so well. We wanted to show our thanks in the only way we know how—Josie’s!” Foggy raised a finger in the air. 

“Josie’s?” You questioned.

“It's a dive bar in the Kitchen we like to go to,” Karen explained. “We’d love to take you out and celebrate. Of course, if you don’t already have plans.” 

The only plan you could think of involved a man in a black mask and your rooftop—but you didn’t say that. 

“I don’t have any plans, actually,” you answered, straightening up a bit. “I’d love to join you guys at Josie’s!” You leaped at the opportunity to get to know Karen and Foggy more. And—Matt just walked in. 

“I’m heading out,” Matt said, in his usual serious tone. You hated how your heartbeat picked up at the sight of him, with his cane in his hand and bag on his shoulder. Part of you was disappointed he wouldn’t join you at Josie’s. 

“Oh, come on, Matt,” Foggy sighed. “You owe us one! Last time, you promised next time. You’re coming out, buddy!” 

“Yeah, come on, we’re taking __ out!” Karen added. You pressed your lips together, awaiting his response. Matt sheepishly smiled. 

“Alright,” he reluctantly agreed, after a short while. 

“Atta boy,” Foggy patted his back. You began to clean up your workspace as Foggy and Karen left the room. Matt lingered in the doorway, leaning against the frame. You watched him carefully as you gathered your things. You went to the bathroom to fix your appearance. Your hair was still styled, more or less, when you curled it this morning. You straightened your button-down white shirt that was tucked into your black slacks. You sprayed on your marshmallow-scented perfume and decided this was as good as it was going to get. 

Exiting the bathroom, Matt still stood in the doorway but now Foggy and Karen joined him; they were waiting for you. 

“Ready,” you stated.

“Huzzah!” Foggy exclaimed. 

⣿⣿⣿⣿

Josie’s

Josie’s wasn’t too far from the office. You stayed walking with Karen while Foggy and Matt walked slightly ahead, Matt holding onto Foggy’s elbow as his cane tapped in front of him. When you saw the buzzing red light that read JOSIE’S in the window, it was obvious you reached the destination. 

“Before we enter, we must knight __ for this is her first time at Josie’s, which is a special event, indeed,” Foggy spoke in a British accent. Matt laughed, flashing the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on him. It made sense: if there was one person who could crack him open, it was Foggy Nelson. You had a feeling tonight you’d learn about their history. 

After Foggy “knighted” you, he opened the door and you were immediately met with an intense smell of smoke, old wood, and sweat. Pool cues clacked and barstools groaned from years of being sat on. Someone spilled a pitcher of beer on the floor. It was overwhelmingly hot and stuffy in here—you rolled up your sleeves. 

“Welcome to Josie’s,” Karen smiled cheerfully. “What do you drink?” 

“Hmm,” you thought for a moment. “I’ll try a martini. Three olives.” 

“I don't know about that,” Foggy said, “the olives part. I would hold the olives.” 

“Alrighty, a martini, hold the olives.” 

“And what kind of shots do we want?” 

“…tequila?” You suggested. Foggy groaned. 

“Let’s see if I still got it. Four shots of tequila, please!” 

Foggy and Karen lingered by the bar, getting an older woman’s attention, whom you assumed was Josie. She had brown and gray hair and a slightly suspicious look. You stood holding your bag, looking around the place. Matt was so quiet, you didn’t realize he was standing next to you. 

“Should we find a spot to sit while they order?” You suggested casually. Matt turned his head in your direction, nodding slightly. 

“Lead the way,” he said. You mirrored what Foggy did earlier when he offered his arm for Matt to hold. You gently touched Matt’s arm with your elbow. You couldn’t tell if he was startled, but he was quite hesitant. However, he did latch gently to your elbow as if you were a piece of paper, and you walked him over to a table in the middle of the bar, close to the wall. He reached his hands out for the table and felt for it as he placed his briefcase on the chair. You wrapped the strap of your bag on your chair and sat a seat away from him, intentionally. 

“I’m sure this isn’t what you’re used to,” Matt suddenly spoke, trying to initiate conversation. You looked at him amused. 

“What do you mean?” You smiled. 

“I—,” he stuttered a bit, “I just mean kids your age probably go out to fancier clubs than this.” 

“I’m not a kid,” you gently corrected. “I may be fresh out of college but I’m sure I’m not that much younger than you guys.” 

“Sorry,” he said. “You’re right.” 

“And you’d be surprised…I can enjoy a dive bar every now and then. I actually think I like them better than what my friends and I are used to. You can at least have conversations at places like this.” 

“Then, why don’t you go to them more often?” 

“Whatever the majority vote is. I never luck out.” 

Suddenly, Foggy came with a tray of drinks while Karen carried over the shots. Foggy lined the drinks and shots up and returned the tray. Karen found her seat next to Matt while Foggy sat next to you. 

“To Nelson and Murdock’s newest and brightest!” Foggy cheered. Everyone took their shots. You felt the tequila burn down your throat as you grimaced. It was like no other tequila you had before. And you’ve had plenty. 

“Yeah,” Foggy agreed when he saw your reaction, “Josie’s got the hard stuff.” 

“Is that even tequila? It tasted like straight-up poison,” you shook your head. “Let’s get another round.” 

Foggy laughed, “I may not be able to keep up, but I’m up for the challenge!” 

⣿⣿⣿⣿

For some reason, spending time with Karen, Foggy, and Matt felt like you were being officially christened into their work group—you were officially a part of Nelson & Murdock. You wanted to pace yourself since you were with your bosses, but Foggy insisted on more shots and drinks—something you found hard to say “no” to. 

You learned that Matt and Foggy met at law school. Columbia, no less. Your dream school. Foggy promised he’d write you a stellar letter of recommendation when the time came. Matt agreed as well, to your surprise. 

“Really?” You asked. “You guys would do that for me?” 

“Of course, Young Padawan,” Foggy said in a Yoda voice. You laughed. “In all seriousness though, you’d kill it at Columbia. Right, Matt?” 

“Right,” Matt agreed, almost immediately. You were thankful he couldn’t see your blush, and everyone else was too drunk to notice. 

As the night went on, Foggy and Karen got up to dance and then challenged other bar-goers to a round of pool. Matt sat in his corner, his hand wrapped around a cold beer. At this point in the night, you ditched your button-down shirt and only wore your undershirt.

Although he was quiet, his presence was anything but. It was like he had some sort of force field around him; the closer you sat next to him, the more prone you were to be sucked into it. You made no attempts to get yourself away. You pretended to be engaged in watching Foggy and Karen play pool, shouting whenever Foggy hit a striped ball. 

Part of you wanted to join them, but the other part wanted to stay next to Matt. Maybe tonight was the icebreaker you needed to figure out why he was so different around you compared to everyone else. 

“Would you like another beer? I’ll go get another round,” you offered. 

“Oh uh, yes, please.” 

When you came back from the bar, you placed the beer in front of Matt and sat in the chair next to him. You clinked your glass on his. 

“Cheers,” you said quietly. 

Matt offered a small smile. “Cheers,” he returned. 

You glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 9 o’clock already. If you were home, you’d probably be getting ready to see Mike. You worried about missing him tonight. At least, you kept the burner phone he gave you in your bag. He’s only a call away but for emergencies. Pushing the thought away, you tried to be more present. Karen hit a striped ball and high-fived Foggy. The two men they were playing looked slightly disappointed in how good your bosses were doing. More people had filtered into Josie’s and it only grew more stuffy. 

“Thank you for the time you’ve put in with us,” suddenly Matt spoke. “It doesn’t go unnoticed, as you can see. Especially with Karen. I know she’s really happy with you here.” 

“I’m just as grateful for the opportunity,” you shrugged, feeling a warmth spread in your chest at his comment. On second thought, maybe the tequila was finally catching up to you. 

“Did you have any other places you were looking at?” 

“A few, but no one got back to me. I suppose getting a job at a firm in the city is harder than it looks." 

“Even Foggy and I struggled for a bit. We had a job at Landman & Zack lined up, but we ended up going on our own way. You’ll end up just where you’re supposed to be,” Matt said in a bit of a reminiscent way. You softened at his words. 

“You and Foggy seem like you’ve been through a lot together,” you observed, “it wasn’t always easy, was it?” 

Matt paused for a moment, and tilted his head—something you noticed over the past few weeks working with him. As if he was really considering your words and thinking of a way to respond. 

“It wasn’t,” he agreed, after a little while, “but if the people stay with you through the tough times, you know it was worth it. Or, you find a reason to make it worth it—for them.” 

You hummed in response. 

Matt took a sip of his beer. He listened as you got up from your seat to join Karen and Foggy after they called for you. 

⣿⣿⣿⣿

It was strange for him to talk to you like this in a public setting—as Matt Murdock, your boss, and not as “Mike”, your savior, as you called him. When you left your seat, he heard something ruffle in your bag—the phone he’d given you for emergencies. Good. She keeps it on her. 

He’d been avoiding you at the office and he knew you picked up on it after a few days. It was for the better, he thought. The more distance he kept from you there, the less likely it would be you’d put two and two together—if you could. It was to be cautious and to make sure his secret stayed a secret. You stayed his secret. Perhaps it wasn’t fair, perhaps it was lying, perhaps that was all true. Even if Matt wanted to reveal who he really was to you, there’s no guessing how you’d react. To put it simply, Matt dug himself even deeper the day Karen said she’d hire you and he didn’t make any effort to convince her to not. 

And the more he saw you at night, the more he couldn’t stay away. God, you were all-consuming to him. He found his new altar and it was your lips. His prayer, your name. Whatever the affair was, his new religion. It was cliche to say, but it was true: it felt so right with you. So right, and perfect, and whenever something so good falls into Matt Murdock’s lap, he always finds a way to convince himself he’s undeserving of it. He wants to be with you. He wants to keep you. But things are just so chaotically fucked up now, now that you work with him and he has to lie to you every day like he doesn’t want to pin you against the wall in his office and kiss your entire body. 

Matt clenched his jaw uncomfortably, pushing the thought away. That’s another reason why he must avoid you; to avoid thinking like this at work. It was hard enough that you were there. 

Being with you during the day was interesting. You were so different professionally, so polite and smart. Thoughtful, he decided. Nothing like the girl he came to see at night, who didn’t hold back a bite and wasn’t afraid of confrontation. He liked that girl just as much as the version he got at the office, though. It was like he was with two different people—and then he thought that he was basically playing two different people with you, too. Except, he realizes his unfair advantage. 

At the office, you were subtle with your actions—careful and alert. How you went out of your way to make sure documents were translated to braille for him, how you took your time with each client in the waiting room…yes, of course, Matt listened to you when you were with them. He always did. And quite frankly, he was impressed with how you carried yourself. Putting his feelings aside for you, and what it was that you shared, he truly thought you were a good employee—a promising future attorney. 

But God, was it hard to pretend to not know what your lips felt like. How hard it is for him to pretend he couldn’t care less when really, you’re all he cares about these days. 

And here you were, coming by his side again, and he has to put on the facade all over again—another mask, he thought ironically, to pretend around you. For the first time ever, he felt a heavy weight press on his heart. No, this wasn’t fair to you at all. 

“Hey, Matt,” you called for him, and he decided he loved to hear you call him by his real name. Your voice was lighter than it was before, actually lighter than it has been at the office, whenever you spoke to him. Maybe a night like tonight at Josie’s needed to happen—so Matt could feel more comfortable around you as Matt. He felt a wall crumbling inside him.  

“Yeah?” He answered. 

“We’re going to take one more round of shots and then step outside for fresh air. Are you in?” 

Matt smiled. 

“Yeah. I’m in.”

⣿⣿⣿⣿

12 AM 

Foggy hailed a cab for you to get home. You managed to get inside your apartment to find it empty, with nothing but a half-filled bottle of tequila on the counter and red solo cups. Your friends went out again, but you didn’t care. You were on cloud nine after tonight, having the best time with your new co-workers, and feeling better that maybe the one you were afraid of really liked you after all. 

And then, you thought of him. Mike. 

Would he be up there? It didn’t hurt to try… 

Before you stumbled up the steps to the roof, you changed into something a little more comfortable. Sweat shorts and a tank top. 

Now that summer was in full effect, nights remained humid. Your tank top stuck to the sweat on your skin. What were the chances of him actually coming tonight? 

Apparently, very likely. As you turned the corner, you jumped to see him already waiting for you, dressed in his usual black outfit—face covered. 

“Jesus,” You exclaimed and held your hand to your heart. 

“Language,” Mike said smugly as he stepped into the light. You smiled. 

“Don’t get all righteous on me now,” you teased, “I believe you are way past that.” 

Mike snaked a strong arm around your waist and pulled you into him. He kissed you softly and slowly—different from the way he normally kisses you, which was more ravenous in nature. You matched his nature, and placed your hands on either side of his face, holding him steady as you kissed. 

When you pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. 

“You’re quiet again,” you breathed. “Why?” 

“You make me feel calm,” he told you. The way his lips moved when he spoke was mesmerizing, inviting you to kiss him again. You did. You teased your tongue on his bottom lip. Mike groaned faintly. 

“Calm isn’t something I’m used to,” Mike continued, chasing your lips with a kiss. “And when I feel something I’m not used to, but that I like, those things tend to slip from my grasp just as I got a good hold on them.” 

You contemplated his words for a moment and realized what he meant. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you truthfully said. “I…like what we have.” 

“But,” Mike guided, knowing you had more to say. 

“But… most people in affairs know who exactly they’re dealing with.” 

Mike turned his masked face away from you. You knew that was the only answer you’d get. 

“Not yet,” he spoke quietly, “I can’t reveal myself yet.” 

“But why? You think I’ll think you’re ugly?” You laughed, trying to lighten the mood, but you realized you even failed yourself. The more you got in deeper with Mike, the more it hurt, knowing this was all you’d get out of him: late nights on your rooftop, kisses you’d never experienced with anyone else—feelings you didn’t know you could feel so intensely that it felt like your mind suffocated with thoughts of him. Him. You didn’t even know who he was. But he had you in the palm of his hand. 

“Do you want to stop? With this, with me?” He asked ardently. 

“What kind of question is that? No, I don’t want to stop seeing you,” you argued. “Do you want to stop?” 

“No,” he replied almost instantly. “But we should reach an agreement on this. You have to be okay with me not being ready to reveal myself. And you have to know that my not revealing myself has nothing to do with how I feel about you and how much I trust you.” 

“How do you feel about me?” You couldn’t help but ask him. The corner of his mouth twitched upward. 

“Like I’ve never felt for anyone before,” Mike whispered and kissed you, deeply, slowly again. “Just give me the time I need.” 

“Okay,” you agreed. “You’ve got a deal. As long as you keep coming to me.” 

“I’ll never stop,” Mike promised. 

You ran your hands along his strong torso. You could feel the sweat under his shirt. You slid your hands under his shirt and felt his skin—soft, and… scarred. You gasped as your fingers traced along a gash, that’s since healed. You felt another one on his rib cage and another on his chest. You gasped again. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s from another life.” 

“That’s… scary,” you said in a small voice. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he told you gently. “It’s different these days.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if I expected to see you one night and you didn’t come…”

“I’ll always come to you,” Mike stated. “Until there comes a day you don’t want me to.” 

“That day will never come, I can assure you that.” 

He kissed you more and ran his fingers through your hair, tugging a little so your neck was revealed to him. You shivered as he kissed along your neck, slowly, antagonizing. You ran your fingers along his back and closed your eyes. 

You didn’t want your nights to be anything but this. 

You lifted your left leg and he grabbed it to wrap around his waist, holding your back to steady you. He gently laid you on the ground. 

“Can I…take this off?” He asked, gesturing to your shorts. You laughed. 

“Will someone see us?” 

“No one will see us. They might hear you though.” 

“Take them off.” 

Mike slowly pulled your shorts and underwear off, and you were completely exposed to him in a dark corner of your roof. You wished you brought a blanket. Mike began to kiss your inner thighs, slowly, reaching closer up to your legs and your wetness. You let your mind drift off, thinking of the deal you’d just made with him. You weren’t completely truthful about being okay with not knowing who he is. But your connection and feelings for him were stronger than your fears of what could happen—you’d teach yourself to be okay with it. 

But your discomfort was quickly replaced with euphoria when you felt his lips kiss your sex, and his tongue began to lap at your wetness slowly and then urgently. You sighed blissfully, closing your eyes. You suddenly couldn’t care less about your worries. 

[cut-the-camera]

Requests!

Hi!! I’ve just started getting back into writing again and I would love to take your requests!

The fandoms/ people I write for currently include:

HEARTSTOPPER

CHARLIE SPRING

NICK NELSON

IMOGEN HEANEY

TORI SPRING

DARCY OLSON (PLATONIC)

TARA JONES (PLATONIC)

JOE LOCKE

KIT CONNOR

RHEA NORWOOD

JOKER OUT/EUROVISION (Bit of a random one I know but I'm a huge fan so)

BOJAN CVJETICANIN

KRIS GUSTIN

NACE JORDAN

JURE MACEK

JAN PETEH

KÄÄRIJÄ

JOOST KLEIN

JANN

FORMULA ONE

MAX VERSTAPPEN

CHARLES LECLERC

HARRY POTTER/FANTASTIC BEASTS

HARRY POTTER

HERMIONE GRANGER

OLIVER WOOD

NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM

LUNA LOVEGOOD

DRACO MALFOY

VIKTOR KRUM

NEWT SCAMANDER

HIS DARK MATERIALS

LEE SCORESBY

LYRA SILVERTONGUE

MARISSA COULTER

LORD ASRIEL

(This list will be added to eventually)

I only write for Male or Gender Neutral readers! (unless I see an idea I really like that fits any other category)

I’m okay with writing angst/trauma or smut (just be warned it might not be very good lol) though I will turn down specific requests if they make me feel uncomfortable to write and I would prefer to only write smut about fictional characters rather than real people.

With all that being said, I’d love to take your requests!! ❤️

[arriansarchive]

Regular Request Rules + NSFW Request Rules

Regular (non-smut) Requests Basic Rules

Request in the ask box

I am allowed to not answer (shouldn't have to be said but it is)

Do not request the same thing twice

I might add/change more rules and characters as time goes on because I'm forgetful

Just Notes

Why is my Miles Morales shit post getting reblogged pleeease pick anything other than that

Reader Rules (non-smut)

I will preferably do male reader

I might do gn reader

I won't do female reader so don't ask

I will accept reader being a characters sibling

Character Rules (non-smut)

I will do romantic female characters

I will do romantic male characters

Reader Rules (smut)

I will do dom!top!reader

I will do sub!top!reader

I will not do sub!bottom!reader

Kink Rules (obviously smut)

I will do degradation

I will not do praise (I'm horrible at it sorry)

I will not do pet names of any kind

I might do other kinks if you specify

Character Rules (smut)

I would preferably do m/m

I will try to do gn/m

I will not do gn/f

I will do m/f

Fandoms I Will Do

Spiderman Into/Across The Spiderverse

Miles Morales

Peter B. Parker

Miguel O'Hara

Pavitr Prabhakar

Hobie Brown

Gwen Stacy

Harry Potter

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Hermione Granger

Neville Longbottom

Luna Lovegood

Ginny Weasley

(depends) Draco Malfoy

Nymphadora Tonks

Harry/Ron

Hermione/Harry

Hermione/Ron

Neville/Harry

Neville/Luna

Shameless

Fiona Gallagher

Lip Gallagher

Ian Gallagher

Carl Gallagher

Mickey Milkovich

Mandy Milkovich

Veronica Fisher

Kevin Ball

Possibly others if you mention them

Young Sheldon

Georgie Cooper

Mary Cooper

IT Chapter 1/2

Richie Tozier

Eddie Kaspbrack

Bill Debsbrough

Stanley Uris

Beverly Marsh

Ben Hanscom

Mike Hanlon

Eddie/Richie (movie/book)

Ben/Bill (book)

Bill/Stan (movie/book)

Stranger Things

Mike Wheeler

Will Byers (male reader only)

Dustin Henderson

Lucas Sinclair

Eleven

Max Mayfield

Steve Harrington

Nancy Wheeler

Jonathan Byers

Jason Carver

Eddie Munson

El/Mike

Max/Lucas

Will/Mike

Nancy/Jonathan

Dustin/Lucas

Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children (book)

Alma LeFay Peregrine

Caul Bentham

Jacob Portman

Emma Bloom

Fiona Frauenfeld

Hugh Apiston

Noor Pradesh

Millard Nullings

Enorace

Jillard

Joor

Jemma

Nuwho

Eleventh doctor

Twelfth doctor

Clara Oswald

Amy Pond

Rory Williams

River song

12/Clara

Fear Street

Kate Schmidt

Simon Kalivoda

Josh Johnson

Ziggy Berman

Cindy Berman

Sally Face

Sal Fisher

Larry Johnson

Ashley Campell

Todd Morrison

Travis Phelps

Sal/Travis

Top Gun: Maverick

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace

Heartstopper

Nick Nelson

Charlie Spring (x m!reader only)

Tao Xu

Harry Greene

Elle Argent

James McEwan (x m!reader only)

Imogen Heanley

Nick/Charlie

Elle/Tao

The Fosters

Mariana Foster

Jesus Foster

Callie Adams-Foster

Jude Adams-Foster (x m!reader only)

Brandon Foster

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe

Ari/Dante

Darius the Great Deserves Better

Darius/Chip

The 13th Reality

Atticus "Tick" Higginbottom

Sofia Pacini

Paul (insert last name here since I forgot)

Tick/Sofia

Tick/Paul

Sofia/Paul

[farfromstrange]

Foreigner's God | m.m

Matt Murdock x avenger!OFC

Chapter thirty-nine: As It Was

series masterlist

Summary: Matt places Tony’s dreaded letter for Eliza on the dinner table. She struggles with her options – should she read it or not? One thing leads to another and she finds herself back at church, though this time she meets a woman that shares some similarities with her boyfriend. Surely, it’s just a coincidence.

Warnings: Angst, talk about sexual assault and sexism, slight politics (?), mentions of violence and blood, Sad Catholic Matthew™️, mentions of drug addiction, Tony Stark, religious topics, SMUT (MINORS DNI), S.M.S (soft morning sex), fingering, handjob, breeding kink, cock warming (?), choking, foreshadowing and S3 spoilers, childhood trauma, watch me make shit up about mathematical equations

a/n: I’m upset with the world, so I incorporated my feelings about how unfair the world is for us women and that no matter what we do, fighting will always feel like it’s useless, even though we all do our best to get somewhere in society. It makes me hate who I am sometimes, the sex I was born with and what I identify as. I hate the sexism this world is built upon and it’s hurt me in the medical sense in more ways than one lately, so some of the dialogue came from the anger I feel deep inside, and I thought maybe some of you can relate as well.

ANYWAY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! I’m officially no longer a teenager. Entering my twenties with no money, no mental stability, an obsession with 40+ Dilfs and ofc back pain. I wrote the smut in this as a little gift to myself. The rest is just… me being an angry woman, but we have every right to be.

Here’s to my 20s! 🥂 Let this year finally be the year everything turns out for the better (and by God let me finally graduate and start a new life somewhere far away from home with a cat, my mutuals and my laptop so I can continue doing what I love — writing) That’s all I wish for. And, well, this man… I wish for this man too… Or someone like him who’ll just love me, no matter how complicated I am… he’d get it. I know he’d get it…

18+ MINORS DNI

(not my gif)

She was rudely forced awake by a loud thud. Alarmed, she shot up and out of bed, searching for something to defend herself with. The bedside lamp seemed like a useless weapon, so she stepped forward with her hands extended instead. It was still dark except for the Billboard illuminating the living room in a soft yellow. 

The thud came from the stairs and moved over to the couch. She sighed, lowering her fists.

“I’m fine,” he insisted. 

Her hair was still damp from the shower, so she couldn’t have slept for long. Or she did before she showered and then woke up, showered, and went back to bed. Time was a blur to him.

Eliza stood at the door, crossing her arms. She cocked an eyebrow. “Uh-huh,” she simply said.

She could see the blood on his face and a hole in his suit – another one. He needed to get that fixed or he would get himself seriously injured soon enough. 

He groaned when he settled down into the leather, holding his ribs.

She was by his side in seconds, tearing the mask off his face and checking the cut on his lip as well as the one on his cheek, probably made by a dull, dirty knife. It was bleeding profusely. “What happened?” she asked.

“Human trafficking ring,” he stated.

She removed his gloves.

Her eyes softened. The blood on the suit wasn’t his, he had the cracked knuckles to prove it. His ribs were bruised, but other than that he seemed fine. It was his psyche that took the toll.

Without a word, Eliza patted into the kitchen and got a bowl of water, disinfectant, the first-aid kit, and a pack of frozen peas. She tossed the latter in his lap, then kneeled next to his spread thighs and started to clean his knuckles.

He was deathly quiet, his jaw clenched and his lip quivering slightly. 

She wasn’t the only one with trauma, she sometimes forgot that. That was why he picked up on the distress call so easily. It triggered something in him and he had felt the urge to help, to prevent what happened to her from happening to anyone else again. 

“How hard did you beat them?” she dared to ask. 

Matt shrugged. “Just a little.” 

“You’re lying.”

“Yeah, well, they deserved it.”

“Matty…” she bandaged his knuckles, rubbing his thigh. “You’re hurt, not just physically but emotionally. I need you to talk to me.”

“They tried to sell young women overseas. They touched them, I couldn’t…” he bit back a growl. “It could have been you. It could have been the kid from two days ago. It could have been Karen or- or Claire or any other young woman or girl out there. These guys are everywhere, Eliza,” he said, “and after what I saw that it did to you, the kind of person that Viktor Volkov is, I just couldn’t help myself. I saw red. I was so angry, Liz… I scared myself.”

Finally, his resolve broke. The adrenaline faded. He fidgeted with his fingers in his lap and she sat down next to him on the sofa. His bottom lip turned down and just like that, he fell apart. He fell into her arms and he cried like a lost boy, scared, angry, and at his wit’s end. She held him tightly to her chest, one arm over his broad shoulders, the other around his head. He clung to her sleep shirt, the tears from his eyes dripping down onto her bare thighs. They were cold, just like his hands, but she didn’t care.

She rubbed her nose in his hair which smelled of sweat and some other man’s blood. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.” Her lips pressed gentle kisses against his scalp.

He only cried harder at her gentle caress.

“Why is God so unfair?” he sobbed. “Why does he keep doing this? What did we ever do to him?” 

“I wish I could answer that, but I can’t. I don’t know how God works. Father Lantom might-“

“No, I asked him.” Matt tore out of her grasp, getting up with a hand on his bruised ribs. His eyes were wild as the yellow light danced in them. “He doesn’t know shit,” he said. “He’s just making excuses so I won’t keep questioning something he doesn’t understand either. I can’t hear it anymore. I just want to know if my faith in God is misplaced, or if what I’m doing is wrong… I can’t keep living like this.”

“Matt, please, sit down.”

He sniffled. “I shouldn’t have gone out there tonight. I was so close. And you’re right, I wouldn’t forgive myself for that, but for a split second… No, it was longer than that. It was more than just a split second. I thought about killing them one by one.”

“I know you, Matthew. You would never do that.”

“No, right now you don’t. I have no idea what came over me, but the Devil… I think I do have him in me, deep down, and he wanted me to kill these guys for how much they traumatized these girls. They were eighteen, at best. What’s next? Fifteen-year-olds? Five-year-olds?”

She swallowed. If she had been there, she would have struggled with the same moral conflict, except that she was already a killer, and he wasn’t.

“It’s dangerous for us women out there,” she tried to explain to him without crying. “Millions of us have fallen victim to sexual violence. No matter what you do, you can’t stop it. This is a man’s world and existing as a woman in such a world is a death sentence. Let it be through rape, domestic violence, or a botched abortion because the Supreme Court decides to overturn Roe v. Wade. Our bodies have never been ours, Matthew, and human trafficking happens more often than we think. The numbers are endless. 

“So we hold our keys between our fingers when we walk alone at night, carry maze, go to self-defense classes, take the more lit routes home from work, and we keep our drinks covered so we don’t get spiked and raped in a dark alleyway behind the bar. We have to get used to the fact that we’re not welcome in this world. That’s what mothers teach their daughters and it’s sad, but society is centuries old, and changing the way the world works isn’t so easy. You’re doing your part and that’s enough. We all have to do something, even if it’s just speak up, and by fighting these guys you’re doing a good job. You’re doing everything you can, but it can never be enough.“

“Then why aren’t you fucking furious right now?” he asked. 

She merely shrugged, “Because I’m used to it. We all are. So we taught ourselves how to hide our anger and reserve it for situations where we can be in control and speak up safely.”

Walking up to him, Eliza took his hand and placed it on her chest. “Feel my heart,” she told him. “What does it tell you?”

He paused. “That you’re scared, and angry, and you’re tired.”

“That’s because I am. Every time I hear stories like the one you just told me or are similar to what I went through, what Natasha went through, what every woman I know has been through, I get scared. I get scared and angry and I’m tired. I don’t show my fear openly because that’s what these men thrive off. I’m not giving them what they want. Most of us don’t. Most of the time, if we speak up, we get hurt, but that doesn’t mean we won’t try to fight back anyway. We just do it in our own ways. For most women, violence just isn’t the answer. I can defend myself,” she said, “Others can’t. And that’s just how the world works. It’s cruel, it’s vile, but if I let every man who ever tried to hurt me enrage me, I’d be in jail for serial murder right now.”

“But it’s not fair, Eliza. You shouldn’t have to…”

“I know it’s not fair, but I can’t keep crying over how fucked up society is. It’s just not worth it. This problem is gonna follow me until I’m old and wrinkly. My generation won’t be able to see a brighter world, but those who come after me might, so that’s why we do this. That’s why we fight for justice. That’s why you fight for justice, and I don’t mean just with your fists but in front of a judge and a jury as well. I’m a woman and I’m angry, but I have to go about this differently because I am a woman. I’m a woman first, and only then am I a mutant. I have to find a way out of how unfair this world works by slithering myself through the shortcuts of the system. That’s something you can never understand, Matthew, but that’s okay.” She pulled his hand even closer, her heartbeat embedded in his palm.

“You understand your privilege and you try to do something against it,” she said. “Other men just don’t see it the same way. It’s men like that we as women have to stand up against, but we can’t do that alone. There are ways for women to stand up, but our lives are different from yours. That’s just the way it is, and I’m trying too, but it’s not enough. Nothing’s enough. It can’t be. So it’s not on you, it’s on those who want the world to continue working this way. It’s not your fault or your responsibility, Matt. Realize that.”

His hand curled around her shirt. “Do I scare you?” he asked. 

“No,” she said. 

“I’d never hurt you, I hope you know that. I’d never raise my hand against you and I’d never… God, I would never hurt you like that. Never, okay?”

“Jesus, Matt, I know that. I’m not scared of you, far from it.”

He nodded. “But you’d tell me if you were?”

Taking his hand and bringing his knuckles to her lips, she kissed them and said, “I promise.”

“Good.” Matt wiped his tears and hugged her to his chest instead. “Thank you,” he murmured. “And I’m sorry for everything. For making this about my anger when it’s your turn to be angry, not mine.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “We can both be angry. There’s no rule on that. Those who aren’t angry yet should be.”

He couldn’t change the way the world works.

With another kiss to her forehead, he let go of her. “Alright, I’m gonna take a quick shower and then join you in bed. It’s late. We have work tomorrow,” he said.

She met his lips halfway. “Okay.”

Tossing and turning, she found no peace while the water in the bathroom next door pattered against the tiles. The sound was supposed to be soothing, but she couldn’t focus. She was wide awake. 

Human trafficking ring. She had been foolish to believe her world would remain free of triggers. She thought back to a time when she had been held and manipulated for the twisted purposes of a man with too much power. Hydra stole young girls too, turned them into trained assassins, and abused them however they wanted until they were broken beyond repair. She was one of those girls. Though Eliza decided to get better. She admitted she needed help and she went ahead and got it. The children with her in the White Room didn’t even survive initiation. 

She should hold a funeral or a vigil for all the lost souls instead of for the man who almost made her one of those lost souls. She should pray for the innocent men and women they pulled out of the new White Room, those who were carted away to safety by SHIELD after they stormed the base and found their unconscious bodies, no longer controlled by Hydra’s agenda. But the experiments made them dangerous, so normal life wasn’t in the cards for them. If anything, they would eventually die from the extent of damage that was done to their brains. The people whose eyes she stared into had been long gone, not a single trace of their souls left behind. 

If she had known all of this earlier, she could have saved so many lives. It was her fault. She felt as if it were, at least. That wasn’t the case, but she needed someone to blame and since she couldn’t actively yell at Viktor, she had to use herself. Bad things don’t just happen - she needed a reason and if blaming herself was what it took, she would do that. She gambled with innocent lives. What happened wasn’t fair, but she could have gone about this a lot differently, and as she lay there in silence, Matt next door, the guilt started to eat away at her again. 

With a groan, Eliza rolled out of bed and walked into the bathroom. His head leaned against the wall, the hot water running down his back. Some blood residue stained the white tiles red, but he seemed okay. 

Desperate to be held, she let the dress shirt fall to the floor, pushed the door aside, and stepped in. The hot, humid air opened her pores. She wrapped her arms around his middle; Matt jolted in surprise, the water lulling his senses to the point he hadn’t heard her coming, but he recognized her heartbeat and he eased as soon as her chest pressed to his back. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “Right now, I’m not. I might be again in five minutes. Can you just… hold me until then?”

Matt turned around to take her in his arms. “Sure.”

“Thanks.”

“Can you at least tell me what this is about?” He changed the angle of the shower head so it wouldn’t spray her face. 

A tear joined the water on her skin and ran down her shoulder. He caught it with his index finger.

“I don’t want to bury my father,” Eliza whispered. He hadn’t heard her so broken in a while. “I just want to forget all of this ever happened. I want to forget that he was ever alive in the first place. Maybe then I’d feel better about the whole thing.” 

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. It’d be more for symbolism anyway. We can do it when you’re ready.”

She shrugged. “I just think I’ll never be ready for that.”

“But I think it’d help you,” Matt said. He took the shampoo bottle off the wall, not caring that she had already showered, and started massaging her scalp with the scentless soap he always used. 

She melted into his touch, her hands holding onto his waist. Her heartbeat slowed significantly, muscles relaxing in the comforting heat of the shower. 

“Tell you what,” he put the bottle down to rinse her now white hair with water, “You’ll join me for Sunday mass and we can talk to Father Lantom. We can discuss your possibilities and I… well, I can try and make peace with God. Sunday mass always helps. It used to, anyway. I could use it.”

“Church?” Eliza raised her eyebrows. “Do you think that’s such a great idea?”

“Just try, please. For me.”

“For you, I’d even walk through hell and back. So I’ll come, but I can’t make any promises regarding my habit of asking too many questions.”

Matt chuckled, pressing a kiss to her closed eyelids. “I’m well aware that you can’t shut your mouth,” he said. “I’m used to it. Father Lantom doesn’t care ‘cause he’s used to me, so there’s no one you have to impress, not even God himself. Just come,” he told her, “and you’ll see that it’s not so bad.”

The shampoo ran down her body and into the drain. From the texture of her hair, he could tell that most of it had washed out, so he turned back to the wall and grabbed his conditioner. He slowly massaged it into the lower half of her hair and the split ends. 

Moments like these reminded her why she was trying to get better in the first place. The support group meetings, therapy, the pills, and everything else - she didn’t just do it for herself; she was doing it for him. Running herself into the ground was no option with her whole life ahead of her. 

The conditioner didn’t get into her eyes, although she liked to claim it did when her eyes started to burn with excess tears. They knocked on the door to her consciousness, but she wouldn’t let them through. 

Matt’s hands were her death sentence. 

He was about to pull her hair under the running water, but instead, she wrapped her arms tightly around him and sobbed into his chest. He put the bottle down instantly, holding her upright before she could fall to the floor. It was slippery inside the shower and she was way too weak on the knees to hold herself up. 

He shouldn’t have left her. Her mind always played cruel tricks on her when she was alone. 

They stayed like this until the water ran cold and Eliza had no more tears to shed. Matt washed the remaining conditioner out of her hair, then helped her out of the shower and dried her off, even adding a moisturizer to her dry skin and brushing her teeth a second time. She appreciated his small acts of kindness, which made her feel a little more alive in the wake of things. She rubbed her tired, dried-out eyes, back leaning into his chest as he hugged her from behind, brushing his teeth once he had finished with hers. 

She opened her mouth, but instead of words she only whimpered. Not wanting to cry again, she buried her face in his bicep, feeling his pulse, and weirdly enough, it helped. 

He cradled her head. “C’mon,” he said, setting his toothbrush down on the sink, “Let’s get you to bed, hm?”

He always ended up taking care of her after she took care of him. One of them would always break and need the other, and sometimes it would be the both of them and then they needed to be strong for each other at the same time. But they could master this too, after having mastered so much worse before. 

Matt slipped behind her in bed, hugging his arms around her and functioning as the perfect big spoon to her little one. His hand rested on her heart, the other on her stomach.

“You feeling better now?”

Eliza stroked a hand through his still-wet hair. “A little,” she said. “But it’s gonna take a moment. I think I just need some sleep.”

“Okay.” He hugged her tighter, allowing only enough space to breathe. “Good night, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m here if you need me.”

She sniffled, wrapping her arms around his. They became one. “Good night, Matthew.”

A question kept circulating in her head. He had long started snoring softly into her ear, signaling he was passed out for good, but she couldn’t stop thinking. 

What if she had been there with him tonight? Would things have turned out differently? Could it have filled her with pride and euphoria and stopped criminals from hurting young women? She could have made amends. She could have done something good, set a sign for the little girls and women who suffered as she did. She could do something good, help them, and be a better person. 

But she hadn’t been there. She wanted to have been there. 

She fell asleep eventually, about two hours before their alarm was set to go off, so she was the last one to wake up. No nightmares meant she would wake up feeling a lot better, maybe not alright, but okay enough to move on about her day.

She had to fight, she knew she did, and bad days were part of her recovery too. They were normal. There was nothing wrong with her, and the crying didn’t make her weak. She just needed to find her path again, which was hard when she was swaying like a drunk trying to walk the line, but at least she hadn’t fallen off the deep end yet. 

Matt, still drowsy from sleep, rubbed his hand up and down her sides, feeling her hot skin under her clothes and the remaining hickeys he had left. 

Pressing back into him, her suspicions were proven right. 

“Good morning,” she slurred, bucking her hips into his. “Someone’s excited to see me.”

He pressed lazy kisses on her exposed neck, moving the collar of the dress shirt aside to gain access to her shoulder blade. He met the movement of her hips, his cock nuzzling into the curve of her ass. 

“‘m sorry,” he said. “You just kept wriggling in your sleep and I didn’t want to wake you my moving away ‘cause you were so peaceful.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Matty.”

She reached behind herself, placing a hand on his erection and Matt hissed. She gently rubbed a finger over the small patch of pre-cum that stained his sweatpants. 

“Next time,” she told him, “Just do what you gotta do.”

“What?”

He moaned when she crossed the border of his waistband and wrapped a hand around his hard cock. 

“Are you telling me I can fuck you in your sleep?” he asked. The prospect made him twitch, her cold hand rubbing up and down his shaft, and her thumb circling his tip again. “Fuck,” he met her strokes, “You’re so good at that. Keep going.”

In return, his arm traveled around her front and he slipped his hand into her panties. He wasn’t surprised to find her soaked already. With a soft chuckle, he found her clit with his fingers and started rubbing circles. She gasped, hips grinding into him from behind. This half-assed version of foreplay was doing it for her, and it wasn’t all too different with him. 

“You have my consent to do whatever you want, even when I’m asleep,” she said. He parted her puffy folds and inserted one of his thick fingers, curling it up into her tight walls, massaging them to stretch her out and massage her g-spot for some more added pleasure. 

She grabbed the sheets with the hand that wasn’t stroking his cock, her movements getting sloppier. He completely knocked her off her game. 

“So I can just…” Matt pulled her panties aside to reveal the rest of her cunt to him. “Do that?” His thumb met her clit as he continued fingering her. 

She whimpered, “Uh-huh.”

“And this?” 

He added another finger. With her legs pressed together, she was impossibly tight. He dared to scissor them and she cried out, biting down on the pillow under her head. “Fuck, Matthew,” she moaned. “That feels so good.”

“Spread your leg over mine,” he instructed. 

She leaned back enough to do as she was told and he used to newfound space to plunge his digits into her cunt. Her nails found his forearm and she dug them in as hard as she could. The intense pleasure had him bite down on her shoulder. 

“Don’t you dare stop stroking my cock.”

She wouldn’t dare, although focusing on him got a little harder with the way he made her feel. She exhaled loudly, picking up the pace. Her thumb dragged along his slit, causing him to whimper softly into her ear.

“That’s it, good girl.”

His fingers curled up. 

“So wet for me already.”

She threw her head back into his shoulder and he used that to capture her lips with his. They didn’t care much about morning breath, it didn’t matter anyway. 

Suddenly, her hand was rudely forced away and Eliza whined loudly in disapproval when his fingers slipped out of her. 

He shushed her, gently stroking her hair to the side enough so he could gain more excess to her skin. The dress shirt fell open and he tossed it aside, joining the still not cleaned up clothes pile on the floor. “I’m gonna make you feel so much better,” he said.

He forced her leg back down, crossed on her side now, and she soon felt the tip of his cock rub between her folds to coat himself in her wetness and use that as lube to slowly enter her, her walls welcoming him with a delicious stretch. 

She hissed, the uncomfortable burning she often felt reappearing, and she grabbed his hips to still his movements. He was only halfway in, but he paused anyway. One of his hands cupped her breast, the other over her pussy which was still covered by her panties but easily shoved aside by him. 

Finally, with some gentle rubs to her clit, she brought her hips back and allowed him to sheath himself inside of her. He split her open, no space between his cock and the walls of her cunt as she clenched tightly around him. 

“Okay?” he asked. 

She leaned her head back against his shoulder, searching for his lips again. “Yes,” she answered breathlessly. 

His hand returned to her throat, squeezing around her pulse point. He could feel the cold metal of the necklace that carried his name. She was his now.

He hauled her back to kiss her, hard, and started to thrust his cock into her at a desperate pace, already close to coming undone inside of her from the cruel punishment of her hand. If he had finished before, this could have gone a lot longer, but he had her on the edge too and it was only a matter of time before…

She clenched around him, forcing his hand to stay on her clit with one of hers, encouraging his movement - she grew confident. He liked that. 

“Shit!” she cursed when he angled his hips up. “I’m so close,” she said. “Don’t stop.”

Matt tightened his grip around her throat. “Wait for me,” he said. 

Her nails dug into his ass, pulling his hips flush against hers. He only had limited space now to thrust, but God was it intense, and with the way she hugged him, he soon felt the orgasm pulsating deep within his stomach. 

He rasped into her ear, “Now,” which came just in time because if he had asked her to hold on any longer, she would have disappointed him. 

She pulled at his hair when she came, pulling him against her mouth to swallow the sinful cry of his name that laid on her tongue. He moaned into her heat, shoving his tongue down her throat. She matched his volume, bucking into his hand as she fucked herself on his cock to prolong the gentle yet intense orgasm. Her walls shook as did her legs and she shut them further, if that was even possible, not wanting to let him go. 

The hold he had on her throat told the same story. He still squeezed long after he came hard inside of her, the smell of them combined in her cunt making him moan involuntarily as he twitched again.

Her breathing came labored, eyes closed, and cheeks red. Strands of his hair fell on her face while hers lay splayed out on the pillow in all directions. Their showers the night before had been useless. They were soaked in sweat and each other’s cum. There was no way they could walk into the office like that and not receive weird stares and traumatize Foggy for life. 

“Oh, my God,” Eliza managed to find her voice again. “That was so good. Holy shit!”

“You’re welcome,” he said giddily.

“No, seriously, why didn’t we do that before? An orgasm in the morning actually improved your quality of life throughout the day.”

Matt grunted into her neck. “God, I love how many facts you have in that beautiful brain of yours. It’s sexy.”

“Wait until I’m conscious enough to tell you more sex facts.”

He tried to pull out, his cock starting to soften, but she wouldn’t let him, wanting to feel stuffed, to be filled with him for as long as possible. They had to leave eventually, but for now, he could stay inside of her while his cum trickled down her thigh and made a mess on the sheets. 

He chuckled lowly into her ear. “Yeah,” and as he said that, he loosened the grip around her throat. Not even that she would let happen. She held his wrist and brought his hand back to her neck. “Are you okay?” Matt asked, a little worried at how touchy she was, but the sigh she gave was one of contentment and utter relief. 

This was all the aftercare she needed, just a moment of solace with him as close as humanly possible. And with her warmth enveloping him whole, he didn’t want to leave either. 

“You know we have to leave eventually, right?” 

She nodded, snuggling closer against his chest. “Just want to feel you a little longer,” she said. 

“Inside of you?” he quipped.

“Inside of me, yes.”

“With my hand around your throat?”

“As close as possible, please.”

How could he say no when she asked so sweetly?

Eliza only broke the connection when she had to pee. They chose to get ready, showering separately to save some time - because let’s face it, they would have fucked again. 

She came out of the bathroom with her hair dried and a skirt on. He could hear the missing fabric as she moved, her legs bare and the skirt ending just below her ass. Matt’s fist tightened around the knife he was holding as he cut up a sandwich. 

“What are you wearing?” he asked. 

Her hand brushed his back as she passed by him, reaching for the pill capsule on the cupboard. Not even on her tiptoes could she reach it and he stepped behind her, grabbing the bottle for her. He used the opportunity to trace the soft, flowy skirt she wore and the shirt she had stuffed into the waistband. At least she was wearing underwear. 

“It’s short,” he stated. 

She stopped in the middle of taking her medication, looking at him through wide, doe eyes. “Is it bad?” she asked.

That wasn’t what he intended to insinuate. If anything, he wanted her to know how feral the outfit made him. She had to keep it for that exact reason, not because he didn’t want her to walk around in a mini skirt that seemed to fit her perfectly. He knew how hard it was to find clothes that completely fit her; she always complained about that. 

Matt chuckled in disbelief. “What?” 

She struggled with the cap on the container and he took the capsule again, twisting it open with ease. The child-proof caps were going to be her death of her. 

“You just… do you not want me to wear something short?”

The tone in her voice suggested she was more than willing to change. 

“What? No! I love it. Why would I ever tell you not to wear something?”

“Maybe because you don’t want me to…”

“Sweetheart, if I ever tell you that, please smack me over the head with a frying pan.”

She snorted. “Yeah, right, you’d be the first man not wanting to dictate what his girlfriend wears.”

“Hold up,” he reached for her arms and pulled her into him, “Men actually do that?”

“Are you saying you don’t care if I walk around with my ass hanging out?”

“If you’re comfortable,” he said. It truly didn’t seem to bother him, which made her frown and rethink what the men previously in her life had told her. 

Not that she cared about the scumbags she had made acquaintance with, but when Matt asked her what she was wearing, she panicked at first. 

As she looked into his honest eyes, she slowly started to realize that she might have been a bit more twisted by society’s views than she thought. 

“I have no right to tell you what to wear. Except if it’s a fashion disgrace, but let’s face it, how would I know? That’s Foggy’s job. Who would never tell a woman what to wear either, by the way.” 

“But-” she began. 

“Ah, no buts. I don’t own you in that way,” he told her. “I own your body and your orgasms when we’re in bed, and I own your heart because I love you, but that’s it. I don’t own your person, and I want you to tell me if I give you the feeling that you have to ask me permission to do the things you want. That’s not how this is supposed to work.”

Eliza pulled a strand of hair out of her face. “Okay,” she said. “I can do that.”

“Good, now turn around so I can feel how short that skirt is. I need to know how much self-control I need to conjure up today not to bend you over my desk and fuck you senseless.”

She evaded his hands once again. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Matt clicked his tongue, chuckling after her, then grabbed his glasses to slide them on his face. “Tease,” he said. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

While he left the living room to retrieve his suit jacket from the bedroom, Eliza sorted through the envelope on the dinner table. She had already made a pile with bills the day before - too many to count - then unnecessary flyers and advertisements on another. 

She raised her eyebrows at yet another notice from his landlord. “Someone’s gotta teach you how to pay your damn bills,” she muttered under her breath. If he heard it, she wasn’t sure, because a snarky remark never came. 

She made a mental note to get his bills taken care of first thing in the morning.

Out of the pile in her hand fell an envelope she recognized all too well. The handwriting was still familiar and it carried her name all over it. 

She was pretty sure she didn’t take it with her that day. And it hadn’t been there the day before. Either Happy tossed it into the postbox or Matt shoved it into his suit jacket when she wasn’t looking. Either way, she didn’t want to be associated with the letter that even smelled like Tony, not just felt like him.

“Matt,” Eliza called out. “Darling, can you come here for a second?”

He poked his head around the corner, obviously struggling with his tie. “Yeah, bug,” he said. “What’s up?”

She eyed him. The look in his brown eyes was lighter than usual and he had a soft smile resting on his lips. He looked happy, content, and in a state where all sides of his life seemed balanced.

She didn’t want to accuse him of something she was sure had no ill intent behind it. Perhaps this was growth. She learned to accept that certain actions were meant to protect her, and he didn’t exactly lie — he put it there for her to choose a more familiar and regulated environment. 

Instead of scolding him like the monster in her head told her to, shut down and run away to protect herself from getting hurt again, she smiled back at him.

“Nothing, I just…” she put the envelopes back down. “I love you,” she said.

He cooed. “I love you too.”

Eliza motioned to his crooked tie. “Need any help with that?” 

“Yeah, please. I don’t know why it’s not working today. I can’t focus.” 

“We all have bad days.”

She tied the knot with skilled fingers, fixing the black tie so that it sat perfectly in the middle of his collar and chest. She smoothed over his blue dress shirt, removing the wrinkles and tucking it properly into his pants again.

She kissed his cheek. “There,” she said, “all done.”

Matt moved his head so that instead of his stubble, she met his lips. “Thank you,” he murmured into the kiss. “I’d die without you.”

“You definitely would.” 

“Hm-hm. I’m glad I found you. And hey,” he caught her chin before she could turn away from him, “If there’s anything you need to talk about, I’m here.”

He knew exactly what she had found. She could see it in his eyes now, the knowing glance, the slight hint of regret in his voice. She kissed him again, trying to ignore the churn of her stomach at the mere thought of opening the letter. 

She had to throw it away or she would only break her own heart. But then again, throwing it away would do the same thing. She found herself at a crossroads, the answer unclear, but this wasn’t Matt’s problem to solve, it was hers. She had to figure out another way to work up the courage and read what Tony had to say to her. If she even wanted to, which she wasn’t sure. She didn’t know anything other than the thought alone made her incredibly angry and bitter about everything that he did, and how she acted, too. 

“Noted,” she said, smiling into the kiss, and the worry in his touch ceased.

He held her head with gentle hands as he plastered his lips to her forehead one last time, then pulled away. They couldn’t stay in their bubble forever. Life awaited them.

Matt was halfway out the door when Eliza turned around again, shoving the letter into her bag. He listened to the rustling of paper and his lip twirled up. 

She rounded the corner. “Keys?” he asked.

She lifted her hand, revealing the silver chain she had taken from the bowl earlier, knowing he’d forget it she let him take them.

“My wallet?”

“Put it in my bag,” she said. 

“Ah! You’re a goddess.” 

She ruffled his perfectly combed hair like a psychopath as she passed by and told him, “You’d lose your head without me.”

“Unless you buy a guillotine,” he was set out to give the cheekiest answer on their way out, “that’s highly unlikely.”

He didn’t see the smack to his head coming. He only knew when he felt it. 

“Shut up, Matthew.”

“Sorry.”

But he wasn’t sorry, not at all, and the way he smirked at her told her that he was purposely being an asshole.

Matt Murdock at his finest was most annoying, but he had never looked better. 

The entire day, Eliza kept thinking about the letter. It weighed heavily in her bag. Even as she typed the numbers to Nelson & Murdock’s new financial plan into the Excel table, Tony was the only thing on her mind.

What if he did apologize and cleared everything up in the letter? She wouldn’t know if she didn’t look. But if she looked and he revealed he had lied about even more, where would that leave her? She couldn’t take another setback.

She originally wanted to work for them to learn more about the law, but their numbers looked dire and someone had to sort it out before the debt would swallow them. Eliza was seemingly the only one who knew how. Tony taught her a lot, this was one of those things. He taught her by not teaching her anything because he had a lot of money he just didn’t know how to deal with it, so she taught herself how to do books and everything else so Pepper could focus on being CEO. In that way, Tony prepared her for what life was really like, and it came in handy.

Tony. It was always Tony. In some way, he made her into the person she was. They were both petty, too proud to take a step forward to clean the slate. Except that he did now. He stretched his hand out for her to take and she had to make a decision. If Happy was right and he was a mess, he needed someone to catch him, and that would only work if she read the letter.

The tip of her pencil cracked from where she pressed it into the expense report. She cursed, tossing it aside and getting herself a new one. The screen of the laptop had gone dark and she swiped once to get it back on. Her thoughts kept reeling and the clock progressed. She only then realized how late it was. 

The door frame of the conference room creaked with the weight that was applied to it. She didn’t have to look up to know who it was. The same person who got her two cups of coffee in the past three hours, all made precisely the way she liked it, not even an inch off.

“If I see any more red numbers today,” Eliza said, “I’m sure I’m going to start hallucinating. I might even recite those equations in my sleep like a robot that hasn’t been plugged in. My brain is fried. It’s chicken roast.”

“That bad, huh?” Matt mused. He had his arms crossed, suit jacket discarded in his office. “So bad that you’re a roasted chicken now?”

“You have no idea! How you got by in the past couple of months is a mystery to me. It’s a wonder, even. Like, how did you survive with these many red numbers?”

He smiled innocently. “Luck?”

“You seem to have a shit ton of that,” she agreed. The papers rustled. It was worse than she thought, but she was getting there. “For a second there, even the Excel table considered giving up, and it’s usually an easy tool to create a financial overview. And the red in your printer might be empty now too, but you can’t afford new ink, so I’m gonna have to start coloring by hand ‘cause there’s so much more where that comes from,” she said, the red marker in her hand as an act of demonstration, though, at the same time, she needed something to fidget with. She sighed again, looking into her reflection in his glasses, imagining she could see the brown behind them. “You shouldn’t have let it get this bad, Matt.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

“Sorry doesn’t help your financial status, but I understand why you guys are the way you are and I wouldn’t want to change that too much, so I’m trying a few strategies that will not ruin Nelson & Murdock’s entire concept.”

“Thanks, sweetheart, appreciate it.”

“Oh, you better. There needs to be a lot of kinky sex after this since you can’t pay me in actual Dollar bills and we have to somehow keep warm once the winter months hit. Can’t do that if you can’t pay your electric bills, so we’re gonna have to fuck a lot more. I’m not freezing to death in your pretty little apartment just because you’re a catholic with a savior complex.”

Matt’s chest rumbled with laughter, her bluntness scratching a humorous itch in his brain. “That can be arranged,” he said, cheeky as ever, and she glared at him, but it was a loving look she gave him. 

“Good. That’s all of my conditions for now,” she said, “more to be added.”

“Alright, well, I’m done with my paperwork for the day, and there are no more clients on the horizon for us, only more filing, so can I do anything? I want to help.”

Eliza deadpanned, “Help?”

“Yeah, help. I mean, I’m part of the problem. There has to be something I can do.”

“You can get me a fucking shot of tequila.”

Eliza groaned into her hands. She realized what she said too late, the room had already gone deathly quiet. Matt frowned, she could see his guilt fade into worry, and he went about closing the door to seal the two of them in the room.

What was meant as a joke sounded like truth in her heartbeat or else he wouldn’t have reacted that way.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” she said, ruffling her hair for the millionth time that day. “I don’t know what I meant. It’s… I’m just tired, Matt, that’s all. I’m sorry. It was a bad joke.” 

He walked up behind her, placed his hands on her shoulders, and started to press his thumb into the tense muscles.

This wasn’t about work, not at all. If anything, working the numbers had distracted her up to this point, but his presence brought out the vulnerability, and suddenly, Tony’s name was the only thing in her mind and the letter screamed at her from where it rested in the side pocket of her bag.

His hands worked their magic on her back and she sighed, leaning further into his touch. With the way she’d been sitting the whole day, his massage helped get rid of some of the pain and inflammation that had settled in her shoulders.

She didn’t want to tell him what was bothering her, but she didn’t need to. Matt kissed the top of her head, finally speaking the words she had been waiting to hear. “Read the letter,” he said. “Go home.”

“Did you put it on the dinner table with all the bills this morning?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Why’d you take it?”

“Because I knew you’d regret it eventually if you left it at the café.”

He was right, she would have. She regretted even considering putting it in the trash. She should have read it from the beginning, ripped the bandaid off, and fixed this. But she couldn’t. She hadn’t been ready before and she still wasn’t, at least not completely, but she saw a point now. She had to open it for several reasons, one of them being closure and she needed it. If there was a way to fix this, she had to know.

Matt leaned in to whisper into her ear, “Read it.” He kissed her. “I’ll tell Foggy and Karen you went home early. You deserve a break for saving our asses anyway.”

Eliza sighed. “That I do.”

“C’mon. I’ll see you later tonight.”

On his way out, she gently called his name. The smile on her lips was audible in the way she spoke. “Matt,” she said.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“Thank you.”

He smiled back at her, tapping the door frame. “I love you too.”

She packed her bag and made her way out of the door unnoticed. Though when she stepped into the warm summer evening, she chose not to take the familiar route to Matt’s apartment. She wasn’t sure where she wanted to be, but the four walls of her home weren’t it. She was lost, scared, and overwhelmed. The city stared down at her with dark eyes, its fingers intimidating as it waited for her to make the wrong move so it could swallow her whole. 

A glass of tequila. She hated herself for thinking about it, but the bars were already open and she walked past at least a dozen of them on her way through Hell’s Kitchen. She hugged her arms around her stomach, walking faster, hoping the burning in her lungs would keep her fingers from itching and the sweat on her skin from turning clammy. 

The giant metal double doors slammed shut behind her. The cold of the interior cooled down the heat of her skin within seconds. The letter dragged her shoulder down. Her head was on fire. At least her destination of escape was quiet and smelled of rosemary and holy water, not alcohol and cigarettes. She could sort her mind there before she returned home. 

She met the brown eyes of a small woman across the room at the row of altar candles as she held a burning match in her fingers. She blew it out, surprised to see Eliza standing there.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch you,” she said, scrambling for the door handle. “I should probably come back another time.”

The woman turned to her fully, the black dress she wore reaching to her knees. It had a white collar embroidered with white flowers, a pair of black tights underneath, and flats. Her hair was brown - the shade seemed familiar - short, and curly. Her face seemed familiar, too. There was something about the way her face was cut out that had Eliza wondering if she had met her before. 

“Can I help you?” the woman asked. Her voice echoed off the high walls of Clinton Church. Her voice was soft, quiet and most of all, kind. 

She hugged her bag tighter to her chest, looking around the colored windows, the stone walls, and the pews. The interior was truly beautiful, the architecture similar to most churches and yet unique in its way. There had to have been a reason her feet carried her there, out of all places. Her relationship with church was complicated, but her intuition seemed to know better. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she took another step forward, her brown eyes sparkling in the candlelight. It was pure brown, bordering on hazel, but unlike Matt, the woman didn’t have any other color prominent in her irises. “I was just lighting a candle for…” she trailed off, chuckling softly. “Well, it doesn’t matter. You seem conflicted.”

Eliza scoffed. “Conflicted is an understatement,” she said. 

“Is there a reason you came here?”

“I don’t know, I was walking until I wasn’t and then I somehow ended up here. I… I’m not catholic. I don’t belong here.”

The woman smirked. 

That smirk… She tilted her head. The feeling of familiarity nagged at her chest, but not her physical one. Her fingers itched. “If it’s a question of religious belief, most people who come here don’t belong here,” she said. 

“Really? Then why do they even come to church if they don’t believe in God?”

“Safety, solace, hope… Who knows.”

“Maybe that’s why my mind went straight to this place. I could really use some hope that isn’t misplaced right about now.”

“You want me to get the Father?” The woman smoothed out her dress as she looked over her shoulder for Paul. “I’m sure he’s here somewhere. Father Lantom’s always been rather good with his words… and young women who are just a little too lost for their own good.”

“Excuse me?” Eliza chuckled in disbelief. 

“Oh, nothing. Should I get him for you?”

“Oh, no,” she said, “I’m not here for that. As I said, I don’t know why I’m here, I just am. I kinda regret that decision now.”

She should have found a support group at the community center instead of storming Clinton Church with a craving for alcohol, fueled by the letter of the man she used to see as her father in her bag. He still was, technically. He would always be like a father to her in some way, no matter how badly he hurt her. Her biological father died protecting her, and Tony would have done the same. He protected her from the truth. It was his plan all along. 

Eliza meddled with it by trying to ram her head through the door and do it her way. She had been so incredibly reckless. Her chest ached. Perhaps this was her fault, after all, and she had just been too blind and caught up in her pain to see. Classic Tony behavior, the voice in her head told her. It was Happy. He always knew better. He told her from the beginning and she just didn’t listen. 

She slipped a hand into her bag, feeling for the envelope. It was still there. 

The woman eyed her, fingers crossed before her body. “I’m Maggie,” she introduced herself. “I’m one of the nuns who work at Saint Agnes next door,” she said. 

Saint Agness. “The orphanage,” she blurted. 

“That’s right.”

“Huh. I’m sorry.” Eliza gnawed at her bottom lip. The silence turned awkward. “I just… you seem familiar,” she said, “but I’ve never been to Saint Agnes before, so I’m not sure why…”

Maggie frowned. If she had been able to see her emotions, she would have seen the clear green of fear. But the powers of an empath had been part of her for a long time before she died and so she knew the signs even without throwing a mutant eye on it. She just didn’t understand why and without reaching into her soul, she couldn’t figure out the truth even if she wanted to. And with Matt and Daredevil, her powers had failed to make the connection too back then, so she doubted it would have been of use anyway. 

Sometimes people just look familiar, they don’t have to be. 

“You know what, never mind! It’s probably just because my boyfriend grew up at the orphanage that I’m starting to see things. My mistake.”

“What’s your name?” she diverted the topic. 

“Eliza,” she answered. 

“Nice to meet you, Eliza.”

“You too, sister.”

“Please,” she said, “Call me Maggie.”

“Right, sorry. Maggie, of course.”

“Well, if there’s something you want to talk about with someone who isn’t a priest but knows a thing or two, I can offer an open ear.”

It was a bad idea. The letter wouldn’t turn any better with a nun present. 

“This is personal,” said Eliza. “But thanks, anyway.”

Maggie wasn’t about to let that slide though. She saw a young woman in distress, one she had overheard talking to Father Lantom, and she wanted to help. She was family now. 

Her hand was back on the cold metal handle. The gentle voice rang out again. “I have coffee,” she told her. “And donuts. Isn’t that what they usually offer at support group meetings?”

“How did you know?” She stopped dead in her tracks, head-turning enough for her ear to listen to Maggie, the rest of her pressed almost entirely to the door. 

She chuckled. “I’ve led one or two of those in my time here before we had to stop due to funding issues.”

“You used to lead support group meetings? For what, religious trauma?”

“Post-partum depression,” Maggie stated. “And for addicts like you. Most teenagers came to the orphanage when it was already too late for prevention, but I tried. We eventually opened the group up to the entirety of Hell’s Kitchen. When the numbers rose, so did the participants and eventually, I could no longer offer the resources, so we had to shut down.”

Eliza’s hand dropped from the door and she turned around, defeated. She sighed, Maggie’s eyes soft and knowing on hers. “How much time do you have?” she asked. 

“I have the entire night, if need be.”

She had never been to the orphanage before that day. Maggie let her through the hallway with the crucifixes adorning the walls and the unusually high wooden pillars. It was the exact opposite of the cold church walls. It was old, almost ancient, mostly made out of drywall and wood and overall tried to look homely, but in an orphanage, that wasn’t so easy. The children wouldn’t feel at home, not even if the walls were covered with stuffed animals. Losing your parents is not something that leaves you unscarred. 

They entered a room. It reminded Eliza of the one in the community center that usually held the support group meetings, except that there were a lot more toys in Saint Agnes than at the community center. 

“Josh,” Maggie scolded the lonely boy that was left in the room, cowered in the corner with a book in his hand and a pencil in the other. “You’re supposed to be in your room. What are you doing here so late?”

The boy didn’t move. Only then did she realize the hearing aids lying next to him on the floor, and the book he was leaning over was one on advanced mathematical equations. It was college-level if anything. 

“Did you take out your hearing aids again so you wouldn’t have to listen to me?”

Again, she received no answer. 

“Unbelievable.”

“He’s deaf?” Eliza asked as Maggie scrambled to get the boy to put his hearing aids back in. He refused. 

The nun sighed wearily, agreeing with her. “His parents died in a car crash five months ago.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Yeah. His trauma response is to tune out everything and everyone. He’s a smart kid, but he won’t let anyone help him. Here at Saint Agnes, we take all children, disabled or not, but kids like him who are so traumatized are hard to take care of if they don’t want you to. He’s not the first one.”

“I understand what it’s like, so I can’t say I blame these kids,” she said.

“Me neither. It’s tough to be faced with loss at such a young age, where development has barely just started,” Maggie stated. “It’s a lot for a child to carry. Too much, even. Especially for those who are already different than others.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

The boy started scribbling into his textbook again, solving the equation at the top of the page. 

“May I?” she asked Maggie. 

She nodded, a little confused but willing to take all the help she could get. 

Eliza knelt next to the boy, making sure she sat in his eyesight so he wouldn’t get scared. He only shortly glanced at her before he went back to work. She lifted her hands. 

“Hi,” she signed. 

The hand that held the pencil halted. 

“I’m Liz. You’re Josh, right?”

“You know sign language?” Maggie asked behind her. 

She nodded. “Everyone deals with trauma differently. Some children turn mute, I taught myself new skills, and Josh does both.”

“Interesting.”

Josh lifted his hand to respond, his movements slow and hesitant. “Are you new?” he signed back. 

“I’m a friend of Sister Maggie,” she answered. 

A look over his book showed the equation he was stuck on. She offered her hand and he gave her the pencil. With confident strokes, she scribbled down the missing step that had him screw up the results every time he tried. 

Josh’s eyes widened in realization. “Thank you,” he told her. 

“It’s alright. Sometimes, you don’t get to the core of the equation if you don’t substitute first. Math can be confusing.”

“Math is fun.”

“Math is for smart people.”

“People say I’m smart. I want to be smart.”

Eliza chuckled. “I’m sure you already are. Struggling with such a complex equation doesn’t determine your intelligence. If anything, it underlines. It helps you grow. Math is a valuable skill to have, but so are languages or art, even. Learning skills is supposed to be fun, not driven by the need to prove intelligence. That’s not how this works.”

He gnawed at his cheek, contemplating the question before he set up to move his hands. “Do you know how to solve Polynomials by Radicals?” he signed. 

“I’ve tried once, got the basics down but struggled to get to the result,” she answered truthfully.

“Did you get it in the end?”

“I did.”

“Can you teach me?”

Maggie appeared behind them, a hand on her shoulder. She held the hearing aids in the other, offering them to the pouting boy. 

“Another day, maybe,” she said, her smile soft yet demanding. She could be strict if she wanted to. 

He read her lips, not satisfied with her answer, but when he saw the promise in Eliza’s eyes too, he took his hearing aids back. 

“Go to bed! Don’t make me say it twice.”

Josh grabbed his book, jumped to his feet, and left before Maggie could scold him again. She chuckled at his sudden eagerness. 

Eliza rose to her feet too, setting her bag down on one of the chairs. 

“You’re good with kids,” Maggie noted. She turned on the coffee maker as she set out the donuts she had left. “You want any in the future?”

“I would if I could,” she said. 

“You know, there a lot of parentless children at an orphanage…”

She turned the tables instead. “Do you have kids?”

She stopped pouring the coffee. “I have a whole army of them.”

“No, I mean, biologically.”

Two freshly brewed lattes stood on the table now between a plate of donuts and a bowl of sugar. Maggie sat down next to her. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, challenging, trying to read the other’s mind. Eventually, the nun turned away and started pouring sugar into her coffee. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I said no.”

“No,” Eliza agreed, “I wouldn’t.”

“I had a baby but I don’t have any children,” she said. “Does that answer suffice you?”

She nodded. “It does.” She valued honesty more than the story behind her words. She seemed uncomfortable enough already, fist clenching around her mug. 

“Since this is about you, not about me, why don’t you start talking about what’s bothering you?”

Eliza reached into her bag and retrieved the letter. “Do you have a seal of confession or something?” she questioned.

“Not officially.”

“You promise not to tell anyone?” The level of trust she felt toward the stranger was surreal. 

“I don’t have anyone I could tell. My life revolves around this place, and I’m not married either, partly because my position here doesn’t allow me to, in the eyes of God. It’s twisted if you think about it.”

“I don’t blame you, relationships are hard.” She placed the letter in the middle of the table. “A person who used to be very dear to me but broke my heart sent me this letter. I haven’t read it and it’s been a week. It’s been long since we fell out, but he wrote that for me after I disappeared off the face of the earth because I died for thirty minutes, and for my sobriety, making amends is important, but I don’t… I want to read it but I’m scared of what it might entail.”

“You know forgiveness is the eleventh step?” asked Maggie.

“Yeah, this ain’t my first time.”

“And what step are you currently on?”

“I don’t know, two maybe. I have a problem with faith, so I’m kind of considering skipping that.”

“You admitted you need help, great. You don’t want to give yourself over to God, and that’s fine too, but you want to get better, so you have to make amends some other way. Do you want to forgive this person?”

“Yes,” she answered. 

“Then you have to read it.”

“But how do I do that?”

“With your eyes, preferably.”

“Thank you, I could have made that deduction on my own.”

Maggie shrugged, smirking to herself, and said, “Just keeping things in perspective so that you can realize how pointless your reasoning is.”

She was beyond intrigued now. Eliza inhaled, taking a sip of her coffee before setting it down again and grabbing a donut. Sugar always helped with the cravings a little. “Huh,” she said, “You should have kept doing the support groups. Brutal honesty is better than pity. I like that about you.”

“As someone who has seen the darkest pits of hell and still managed to survive, take it from me: If you waste time making up with the people you love, you’re going to regret it until you’re old, and then, when you finally realize what you’ve done, it’s going to be too late.”

“You speaking from experience?”

“As a matter of fact, I am.”

“Who hurt you?”

“It’s not who hurt me,” she said, her brown eyes moving toward the table and locking on it, “It’s about who I hurt. Before I found back to God.”

She nodded. “So I just what, read it and hope for the best?”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

It was a question she had no answer to. There was nothing too bad that could come from opening a letter other than emotional wounds being torn open - or worse, possibly healed, and she’d be forced to face Tony again and apologize. That was the worst. It was terrible and embarrassing and she didn’t want to lose another thought about it, but she had to. 

She looked up at the crucifix, Jesus nailed to the cross and staring down at her, seemingly with judgy eyes. 

A scoff passed her lips. “This is so stupid,” Eliza muttered.

“What is?” Maggie asked. 

“I don’t even believe in God and still I feel like he’s scolding me.”

The nun shrugged, getting up to refill Eliza’s mug with some more coffee. “He probably is.”

She scoffed, “Thank you.”

“He’s scolding all of us all the time because we all make bad decisions. It’s human nature. That doesn’t make him hate us. If anything, he’s more than willing to forgive your mistakes if you’re ready to openly deal with them.”

“Who’s to say I made a mistake?”

“You didn’t?” she retorted. 

Eliza crossed her arms again, leaving the letter unopened on the table, and leaned back, teeth sunken into the inside of her cheek. “I made mistakes, but not with him,” she said. “He’s the one who lied to me about my past. He’s the one who almost had me arrested and didn’t do anything when the cops were after me for something I didn’t do. He let me run straight into the knife several times. If it hadn’t been for him and his lies, none of the things that happened wouldn’t have happened and the people who got hurt because of me… wouldn’t have had to suffer if he had just told me sooner or talked to me about this like a normal person. And Matt… God, he wouldn’t have had to feel me fucking die. The poor man’s probably traumatized for life.”

She placed the mug back in front of her, her hand lingering on her shoulder just a comforting second longer before she sat back down. Maggie reached for the envelope. She traced the name written on the front and the already cracked lid. 

“God,” she began, and when she tried to open the envelope, Eliza didn’t even stop her, “He lets all kinds of things happen to people,” she said. “Good things to bad people, and bad things to good people. Sometimes he even lets bad things happen to bad people and good things happen to good people. You wanna know why?”

She met her brown eyes with weak desperation. “Yes,” she said, “Please.”

“It’s a question many ask themselves. Why is God so cruel? The truth is, I don’t know, but he lets those things happen because we have to grow somehow. We have to learn for ourselves. If he were to intervene every time an injustice happens in this world, we wouldn’t know how to deal with it ourselves. Only when there is no point to be made when there is no reason in the things that happen to certain people, does he send a sign, his guidance, or even make a miracle happen to stir things in the right direction.

“Is it fair to those who land in the crossfire? No, but we all do eventually. And we get to choose what side we are on, the good or the bad side, which is also something God leaves open for us. Bad things happen for a reason, we just don’t often see it because we are in so much pain,” said Maggie, “We can only see the despair instead of the light at the end of the tunnel, and it’s compelling to fall for it. We ask ‘why me?’ and think there’s an answer. There isn’t. We have to learn how to deal with it and learn from our past. That’s the way God intended us to function as human beings, nothing else. So while there is no real question about the answer to why he does what he does, there is an obvious interpretation I often like to tell the kids that ask me. Do with that as you will, Eliza, but don’t throw away your shot at rekindling the relationship with your family.”

“But my father’s dead. I have no more family,” she said.

“Resurrection, in my opinion, is a lie, so he won’t be coming back anyway. You have to cherish the family you have, blood-related or not. Don’t let yourself be alone, not without exploring all the other possibilities first.”

She slid the envelope toward her. 

“I will be checking in on Josh,” Maggie told her, slowly rising from her chair and smoothening out her skirt. “I’ll be back in say, half an hour. Feel free to help yourself to whatever you need while I’m gone, and if you decide to leave, that’s fine too.”

The letter lay open before her now, she only had to pull the yellowish paper out. The door closed behind her and she was left alone in the huge room, the clock ticking on the wall and Jesus continuously staring down at her like a creep. 

Eliza rubbed her face, ruffled her hair, and even wiped her sweaty hands on her pants, but she felt no more ready than she did in the beginning. 

Her phone pinged. Matt’s name was written underneath the time display.

Where are you?

Are you okay?

If you don’t answer in the next two minutes, I’m coming to look for you. 

In the suit.

Seriously, text me. 

I’m worried.

She shook her head with a soft smile. 

Don’t question me about it but I’m at church, she texted back, I’m okay. Talking to one of the sisters at the orphanage. Will be back soon. Love you. 

Unlike him, she managed to put every sentence into one message. It made it easier for his phone to read out in a way that made sense to him.

He responded within seconds. 

Don’t ever do that to me again.

I was worried something happened.

Then, after another second, he added, Love you too, with a heart emoji. 

The thought of him telling his phone to send a heart emoji had her giggle uncontrollably for the duration in which she texted him back. 

You going out tonight? she asked him. 

Not until you’re home, he texted. Want to kiss you first. 

A second passed by. The speech bubble showed the three dots that suggested he (or his phone) was composing another message. 

You sure I don’t have to come?

She shook her head again as if she was talking to him. No, I’m fine. Need to do this alone. 

Her fingers halted, one of her nails finding its way into her mouth, biting on it nervously as she wrote, Sister Maggie’s good company. Reminds me of you.

With that, she finally put down the phone, face-down next to her on the table, and she pulled the letter out of the envelope. Talking to Matt had been the last push she needed in the right direction. 

There were three pages in total, Tony’s handwriting more graceful than one might suspect. She knew all about it. Eliza often teased him that he wrote as if he were a king in the 1800s. He used to find it funny, though he eventually grow tired of the comparison. 

Finally, after a week of gracefully ignoring the heavy truth, she dared to start reading. 

Dear Eliza,

I hope you didn’t throw this letter away. If you did, you won’t be reading it anyway, but I’m still going to write it with the off-chance that you’re going to open it before you throw it away. 

I hate letters. They’re stupid and a waste of paper, but I didn’t want to make a video and have you look at my face. I know you don’t want to see it, and you don’t want to hear my voice either, so I’m trying this out instead. 

I’m sorry. Does that fix anything? No, I know it doesn’t, but I have to say it before I get too proud to say it again. I ruined everything by trying to fix everything. I’ve always done that. I go overboard, I make mistakes and I care too much even when I pretend I don’t. 

I realize in my attempt to protect what was dear to me, I destroyed more than I fixed. I screwed up. It wouldn’t have gone this far if I had just told you, and I should have helped you instead of letting you get into the crosshairs. I just thought… I don’t know what exactly I thought, but you always come back. You used to always come back. You were reckless and bratty, but you always came back and so I thought you might realize your mistake and come back to me before it’s too late.

She scoffed. Her mistake? Reading on though, he took back what he said with ease.

It wasn’t your mistake, it was mine. Keeping the truth from you did hurt your already fragile heart. You could go anywhere you wanted, just not home. I pushed you away and thought we could overcome this as we always do, but I was wrong. I lied for so long and about too much, you felt as if I betrayed your trust, which I did, and for that, I have to apologize.

And I missed you. I still miss you. The compound is empty without you, and I miss my protégée making snarky remarks about my work. 

This is about as sentimental as I can get. I’m barely holding on here, kid. It’s not the same without you. Pepper and I fell out and Happy’s looks tell me he blames me for what happened. They’re doing their best to hold everything up while I drown in my sorrows and alcohol. I’m sorry, and I don’t say that lightly. 

I’m writing this letter to explain why I did it and what your father said to me. I want to give you the truth, but I’m too much of a coward to do it in person, so just read this and hear me out. I want you to understand why I did it and that I never wanted to hurt you, I just wanted to protect you. That’s all. Your safety has always been number one on my list of priorities and I failed. I failed, so you turned to someone else, Daredevil, and from what I heard, he saved your life. I’m glad he did. I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if you died because of something I screwed up.

I screwed up, but I want to make this right. I want to make you and me right again so you can come home. Because this is your home, and you have a job here, people who love you, so this is a cry for help. I need you here, kid. I can’t keep the memory of the Avengers alive without the glue of this team is by my side. (Even Rhodey keeps questioning me about what happened, but I can’t tell him. He’s only going to curse me to hell.)

Your father came to me shortly after Sokovia happened. He was battered and bruised, and against everything I swore I stood for, I let him in. I heard him out. He brought me your file and told me that Hydra tortured the truth about you out of him and that you’re in imminent danger now. That’s why he needed me to put a lock on the file and keep you in the dark to make sure you don’t go down that road and have Hydra discover you. They would have rebuilt even faster with you by their side, let’s face it because you would have given them the necessary boost. Your blood is a rarity and your powers are unique. They would have torn the world down. You have to understand, I weighed the option and Anton was right. I had to keep you in the dark to protect you, so I locked the file away and made sure every mission we took you on worked the same. I made sure you stayed clueless for the sake of your safety and prevented Hydra from gaining too much power before I gained enough intel to destroy them myself.

I wasn’t in time. Your father went back on the run, keeping in check occasionally, and I kept researching Hydra and following their steps. They disappeared off the face of the earth. I tried my best, but I failed, and if I hadn’t been so focused on keeping you safe, I would have gone about this differently. You could have learned the truth some other way without bursting at the seams, literally, and being overwhelmed by everything. It’s what I tried to prevent by steering you off who you are. I failed and I’m sorry.

So when you and Daredevil teamed up, I panicked. I was in a cold sweat and I tried to salvage it by being cold and lecturing as a father would be, but I think I only fed into your suspicions and pushed you away by displaying a personality change that had nothing to do with Rogers or you. I thought it would get you off Hydra’s scent, but I only enraged you and caused you to look further into it. If I had been honest, so much could have been fixed earlier, but you were so close and I thought I could snatch Hydra from under your nose when you weren’t looking, but I was too late. You did all the work and still, I failed to take the worst off of your shoulders.

The thing with Ross wasn’t planned. I considered disputing it, but I figured with you on the run and this much police presence, Hydra would be extra careful and it would buy you time. It did, but not long enough. Their ball was already rolling. 

I admit I was angry at you for what happened with Happy at your apartment, but then I realized it wasn’t your fault, so I stopped being angry at you and redirected it at him for interfering with a plan I made to fix what I already broke. I ruined even more, I get that now. I thought I had it figured out. Turns out, I didn’t. 

So I told Rogers, Romanoff, Barton, and the other guy, Wilson I think, I don’t know, about everything and told them to supervise you because I had to make sure nothing else happened. I had to make sure they don’t actually get you. I distracted Ross enough for them to come here and then again to make sure you wouldn’t be caught on your journey to find Hydra. I was very close to failing, but you found your way out, so that made it easier for me to divert his gaze. 

I’m glad those guys helped you. I never meant to tell them, but they figured out that I was hiding something about your past back then and so I told them to make sure you had more people in your corner. Natasha wanted to tell you, but honoring your father’s wishes, I forced her to keep quiet. I’m glad you reconciled, but I’m still sorry for how I went about this. Lying to protect you in such a capacity was wrong, not just from me but also from those I pulled into this web of lies. They were your closest friends and family and I almost ruined that.

Be angry at me, but not at them. It wasn’t their fault I made them keep quiet. It was a verbal NDA. They had no other choice. 

If you read this, I hope you can see where I’m coming from. My intention was never to hurt you or drive us apart. I only lied to you to make sure you survived. Your father asked me to. After what he told me Hydra did to him to get the answers about you, I had no choice. They learned about where you went after Fury asked you to step in during Loki’s attempt to destroy New York and they saw your face. By asking you to join the Avengers Initiative and train you, I put you in the limelight, for Hydra to find you and concoct a plan long before Sokovia happened.

They never truly died out. We didn’t choke them out. We failed, but I only realized that after Anton came to me, and even then I refused to believe it. I tried my best, but my best wasn’t good enough and I realize now that I went about this all wrong. You’re grown. You’re an adult now. You’re not a child who needs condescending or can’t be trusted with serious information. I’m sorry for that. I promise that, if you decide to come back, I’ll make up for what I did in all the ways I possibly can and I will never underestimate you again.

Now, you probably finished reading the worst part. Moving on to what I also wanted to tell you, I have to warn you, I didn’t keep this from you because I wanted to. Your father put a fail-safe in place in case he ever died. I only got it in the mail the day before you texted Happy, together with a message that I am not at liberty to share with you because he made sure it would self-destruct in a very dramatic way after I read it. And with that, I mean some chemical solution or something. Spyware. Top-notch. 

If you flip onto the third page, there is a keycard and a number from the guy that owns the building your father resided in. Things are waiting for you. As his daughter, you’re the one who has a right to all of his belongings, so you use that keycard and get into his excuse for an apartment. Find the rest of your answers he didn’t get to share with you. It was his last wish, as well as it was for me to give it to you. He told me in his message that there are important childhood memories he kept that might interest you, and there is supposed to be a video file there. I don’t know, I never went there. I couldn’t. It’s your right, not mine, and I wanted to be kind enough to let you do this on your own. I have no right to interfere with your life anymore, nor did I ever, if I think about it now.

Do what you want with this. Come back or don’t come back. It’s your choice. I wish for you to forgive me, but let’s face it, chances are you won’t. I wouldn’t blame you. I can’t do that, even though it’ll fatally hurt my pride. I mean, you’re my protégée, confidant, and best Avenger, after all. And you’re my kid, which has to count for so much more. Like any other father figure in your life, I screwed up and traumatized you. That was never my intention. I wanted to be better. I’m sorry, kiddo. Just know that I miss you and would do anything to get you to trust me again, whatever it takes. 

You’re my daughter. The closest thing I have to one. I don’t want to lose you again. I love you, Eliza. Please, forgive me and come back to me. That would be nice. Thank you.

Ps: Forget I ever said those three words to you. They gave me the ick. I meant them, but they’re still weird and I hate them. Scratch that. 

Sincerely / Yours truly (how the fuck do you sign a letter?),

Tony Stark

(You know who I am, this is just what I do with protocol. Which it isn’t, I just don’t know how else to sign letters. I hate paper. Kills the trees and makes my technology useless.)

Office hours are from one am to one am the following day. 

Goodbye,

Tony.

At the end of his name, there was a huge ink stain that looked as if he had pressed down his pen in anger. 

The keycard slipped from the envelope together with the number he mentioned. He didn’t lie about that part and she doubted he lied about everything else either. He had never been so vulnerable before, not with her, not with anyone. At least not to Eliza’s knowledge.

The ink smudged, but this time it was because of her. Tears that had formed in her eyes started falling on the paper, ruining some of the sentences with how wet they were. She put it down and she cried into her arms.

She had been so stupid. He screwed up because he wanted the best for her and he still tried to fix it, long after she told him to go to hell, even if it was just in his own twisted way. He thought this was the right approach for someone as complex as her. She had been reckless before and always came back. This time though, she found her true potential and she abandoned everything she knew for a chance at winning.

He knew he should have listened and he apologized. It was all her heart needed, but her soul still ached and she struggled with the huge weight that was forgiving someone she kept telling herself was a bad person just so she could hate him. She didn’t. She never had. He told her he loved her like he would love a daughter and it made her chest bloom and the tears flow harder.

The list of people she had treated badly was sheer endless and Tony didn’t deserve to be on that list. No one did. She needed to fix what she hadn’t done yet, and he was a big part of that. She wasn’t sure how, but she had to. She knew she had to. But her mind was conflicted as was her soul. Only her heart wanted to storm the compound and hug him this instant. She couldn’t bring herself up to running. Eliza sat frozen in place.

She couldn’t control it. The anger and pain inside her chest colored her vision red and suddenly, she saw herself standing in the middle of the room as a yell broke out of her chest and she let everything that was bottled up inside of her release through her already burning palms. The power pulsated in her veins, causing them to grow twice their usual size and it made her sick. She felt so full of energy, she had no control over what she did. 

The chairs and the tables landed against the wall in a sudden outburst, the lights flickering, and even the curtains on the windows shook. Jesus shook. Everything shook until the ball of fire had gone and she curled up on the floor, crying even heavier than before. 

Maggie entered with a rather shocked expression at the mess. It felt worse than it looked, but she was still flabbergasted at what she witnessed. 

“I’m not even going to ask,” she decided before she slowly approached the young woman, her flats making little to no sound, and she knelt behind her to take her into her arms. She was like those scared children that came to her for help, afraid of the world and unknowing of what to do with their lives. She understood that. She had been a lost child once. 

The nun hugged her tight to her chest. Eliza didn’t have the strength to fight back. She let her cradle her in her arms like a baby and it felt good. It felt good to have someone hold her that wasn’t her lover. Maggie was the kind of woman you could easily see as a mother figure, not just because she devoted her life to helping children who lost their parents but because she was good. She showed her that religion wasn’t all the same and it didn’t make heartless monsters. If God was real, she was the kind of angel he would send to look over the lost souls, to look over people like her, children like her and Matthew had once been. Maggie was good at heart, and no trauma in the world could change that. 

Eventually, her cries died down and she lay in her arms motionless, hiccuping and still shaking. 

She stroked through her hair. “I’m sorry,” Maggie murmured. “I know life doesn’t feel fair most of the time. That’s why crying is so important. Mothers need to teach their daughters that crying isn’t simply a feminine trait that makes us weaker like everyone else. If anything, we’re strong for being in touch with our emotions.”

Eliza sat up, wiping her tears with shaky hands. “My mom died when I was born,” she said. “So I wouldn’t know.”

Her eyes softened and she stroked through her hair again. “I’m sorry to hear that, love.”

“As I said, my family is dead.”

“But family isn’t just blood, is it?”

“No…”

“So are you crying because the letter said good things or bad things?” Maggie asked, careful not to press down on any fresh emotional wounds. 

She chuckled. “They were good, I suppose.”

“And is that really why you‘re crying? Are those happy tears or is this about something else?”

“I don’t know why I’m crying.” Eliza looked upon the mess she had made, then back at the nun who only smiled gently from where she knelt. “Why aren’t you scared?” she asked. 

“Of what?” asked the nun. 

“Me. Don’t you have to think I have the devil in me or something?”

“Eh,” she shrugged, “I saw what happened on the news. Unlike everyone else though, I take no pleasure in judging people on what they can or cannot do. I’ve also been around in 2012,” she said, “So I know all about superheroes and mutants and the like. You don’t have the devil in you. He looks much different.”

“Thank you. That, uh, that helped, actually.”

She helped her get back to her feet, smudged makeup and all and offered her a tissue. Eliza got cleaned up quickly, shoving the letter back into her bag. 

“You want another coffee?” Maggie offered. 

She declined. “No, thank you. I have to get back to my boyfriend before he starts sending the search party.” She gave a weak chuckle at the end and the nun joined in. 

“He sounds nice, your boyfriend.”

“He is. He’s a… he’s great, yeah.”

Maggie pointed to the necklace that hung out of her shirt. “He got you that?” 

“Yup.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve got someone to have your back. That’s important.”

Eliza nodded. It truly was. 

Maggie scrambled for a piece of paper and a pencil, starting to jot down some numbers before she handed the post-it over to her. “Here,” she said, “That’s my number. If you ever feel the need to talk or just want a cup of coffee, feel free to give me a call.”

A bit confused, she took the offer. “Thank you?” she said. “No one’s ever…”

“You don’t have to, I just thought it might be a good idea to have someone on standby that isn’t your boyfriend, a priest, or a therapist.”

“Sister Maggie, I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I’m just glad you’re doing better.”

With a nod, Eliza headed for the door. Halfway out, she turned back and said, all reservations gone, “You would have made a great mother.”

Maggie was left behind shaking, the girl’s words resting heavily in her brain as she process them. A great mother. The words sounded so foreign yet offered some sort of comfort, a relief to doubts she had carried around for decades. 

“What are you doing?” Father Lantom stood in the doorway, watching Eliza walk away in the distance, her bag shoulders, and skirt flowing with the wind. He crossed his arms. “What was that Maggie?” he asked. 

“She needed help,” the nun stated as she began to clean up the mess. “I offered it to her. There is nothing wrong with that. It’s my job.”

“Is that really what this is?”

“She’s the closest I can get to my son,” her voice cracked. “Don’t take that away from me, Paul.”

“I’m not trying to. I mean, you’ve always had the choice to go down the block and tell him the truth.”

“You know it’s not that easy.”

“Your son… she’s good for him, but snuggling up to her while trying to know more about him is wrong. It feels… immoral. You know Matthew would be angry, but he would never judge.”

She snapped around. “That is not at all what I’m doing! I like that girl,” she said. “She’s broken. She needed a friend. I lend her a helping hand. She’s family now, Paul. I’m not doing this just because she and Matthew are a thing, I’m doing this for her, because she lost her parents and she needs someone. She’s like all the kids here.” She pointed wildly around herself. “God sent her here. I was willing to listen to her, so I see that as a sign. I’m just trying to somehow figure out what the lord wants.”

“Are you sure this isn’t just about Matthew?” asked Paul. “Because God-“

“Oh, I’m sure.“

“Alright, but if this comes back to bite you in the ankle, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Maggie scoffed. She took the last chair and placed it back against the table. “It’s bite you in the ass,” she stated. 

“We’re in the house of God. I won’t curse.”

“Jesus won’t judge you for saying the word ass.”

Paul only rolled his eyes at that. The observation he made, “You’re not so different from your son,” was more than accurate. 

If anything, Maggie and Matt were one and the same person, and if he learned one thing from listening to the both of them for years, it was that sometimes, behavior is hereditary and there is nothing that can be done about that. 

[starboye]

pairing: nick nelson x male reader

request: I feel like 3rd nick Nelson cheating fic should have you flirting with someone else and he stops them and then takes you away to fuck you or something that involves more nick praising and more riding

warnings: smut, riding, unprotected sex, cheating, small angst throughout

it was a couple days after the whole bathroom incident and for some reason nick couldn't get you out of his mind you plagued every second of his day by invading his thoughts, he couldn't even get off without the thought of you tightly wrapped around him.

so it didn't come as much of a surprise for nick to be scanning every inch of the party waiting for you too eventually show up while still trying to keep a conversation with charlie, he did feel bad knowing that he liked you more than charlie but what was he supposed to do.

you intoxicated him with your body and actions, the way you would ride him so well, tightly wrapped around his dick, oh my god and the way you could make him fall apart with just your hand, it was like you had him in a trance a very very dangerous trance.

"omg finally y/n" tara laughs hugging you as you walk in through the door making nick whip his head around to confirm it's you, once he sees you he immediately walks over "hey y/n" he says as his face lights up, a smile creeping across his face and him blushing slightly "nick" you nod with a half smile before joining everyone else party.

"he just passed me like i wasn't there" nick thinks to himself confused before walking over to the rest of the group and seeing you sneaked off to the side with some random guy, you guys talking and laughing as the music books around you, nick feels his heart start to race and his hands contort into fists "you okay nick" charlie asks "yeah perfect" nick says.

it was a blatant lie it was just nick didn't like seeing you enjoy the company of some random guy and nick knew he sounded a little hypocritical seeing as he was cheating on charlie with you but to him this was different, he didn't like the idea of you being with someone else, the idea of you maybe forgetting him and you not being able to give him what he really wanted; you.

"hey nick wan-" charlie begins but when he turns around nick is nowhere to be found, little did charlie know nick had pulled you away from the guy in the middle of the conversation and took you to a random empty room in the house "what nick" you say folding your arms across your chest but nick doesn't answer he just leans in and kisses you, his hand running up the back of your neck to further deepen the kiss.

you push him off you after struggling to do so for some time due to the intensity of the kiss "I want you" nick desperately says "you're dating charlie" you retort "I don't care I'll break up with him I just want you" nick begs "nick no I'm not worsening the situation more than it already is" you say turning to leave "can you please just ride me one more time then I haven't been able to get off in days" nick pleas.

"if I do this one last time do you promise to leave me alone" you asks with a serious tone, nick nods eagerly and after that you push him onto the bed and pull his pants down to his knees before taking your underwear and pants off, nick admires your lower body as you straddle his lap "don't make this a regular thing pretty boy" you say smearing some saliva one nicks tip, nick nods without even acknowledging what you said.

he only wanted to watch you ride him, you sink down on nicks dick with a small moan and nick smiles at the scene unfolding before his eyes "I can't believe I'm doing this with my best friends boyfriend again" you mutter to yourself "it's not that bad if no one finds out" nick reassures "shut up nick" you say rolling your hips in a circular motion as nick groans die to the pleasure of finally feeling your meaty warm walls tighten around him.

"I needed this a lot" nick groans "yeah you did, I bet you just love this hole huh" you tease bouncing up and down on nicks dick with light plaps "mhm" nick murmurs dropping his head on the bed "you just love fucking me anywhere right" you continue in a soft voice looking at nick the whole time"just imagine what everyone would do if they saw this" you say picking up speed quickly.

"they would be so mad wouldn't they" you say kissing nicks jaw line "yeah" nick shyly murmurs "you're doing so well too" you say placing your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself as you begin riding him erratically, nick moans and whimpers out at the feeling of you tightening and relaxing around him with every move, draining him of both his cum and his dignity "you gonna cum" you ask lightly rubbing his nipples.

"yes yes" nick nods eagerly wanting to fill you up hoping that it would convince you to date him for real and not just fuck him, although he wouldn't mind the occasional fucking part "can I cum in you please" nick begs grabbing your hips "I guess you could, you deserved it" you coo rubbing his chest "thank you" nick lightly moans as he cums, his sounds drowned out by the blasting of the music.

"please I'll leave charlie just please, I want you" nick pleas in a desperate tone "nick I'm not breaking a relationship because you're pussy whipped" you say getting off nick "I promise I never loved charlie anyway I just need you" nick says in a last ditch effort "what" you hear a voice brokenly say, you whip around to see charlie standing at the door with tears running down his cheeks.

(yes I did leave this on a cliff hanger so I could edge you guys for an ending 😏)