#matt tempe x reader

[lowaltitude]

Dial Tone | Matt Rempe

- NHL, New York Rangers - x Reader

❪ FEM! ❫

───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────

𖥻 Matthew Rempe x FEM!reader, in which a wrong number friendship is more than you'd hope for. OR he falls first, he falls hard, he's NYC's biggest enforcer.

𖥻 99% texts. established relationships? the most basic plot idea everrrr bc I watched The Idea Of You before watching a playoffs match. PART 1. 3.5k words

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I had just gotten home and sprawled out on my apartment's couch, letting Netflix autoplay something random after finishing Brooklyn Nine-Nine again. My phone buzzed, interrupting my thoughts.

Tuesday, March 12, 2024Today, 3:16 PM UNKNOWN: Alley said she tried to call you, text me when you're on the way to the rink.

My phone buzzed again.

Today, 3:42 PM UNKNOWN: Steph?

Today, 4:01 PM UNKNOWN: Are you on your way or not?

I glanced at my phone, seeing another message from the unknown number. Smirking slightly, typing a quick response.

ME: Not Steph, good luck finding your girlfriend.

I tossed my phone aside and settled deeper into the couch, trying to distract myself from the uninspired short story I had been working on. Hours passed, and I still hadn’t made any progress. The story was just another tall tale that could easily end with "and then I woke up," and at this rate, it might.

My phone buzzed again, and I groaned before reaching for it.

Today, 12:19 AM UNKNOWN: Gross. I was looking for my sister.

I sighed, feeling slightly amused.

ME: Okay? Hope you found her. UNKNOWN: I'm sorry to have bothered you, I realise the area code is wrong.

With nothing better to do, I found myself replying, curiosity piqued.

ME: 212, Manhattan. Nice area, rich boy charm. UNKNOWN: Not really rich, or much charm. But boy, yes. 619, where's that? ME: San Diego.

A pause. I put my phone down, trying to focus back on my assignment, but the ping of a new message distracted me.

UNKNOWN: I'm guessing you're just as bored as I am right now. ME: Definitely bored, that is correct. UNKNOWN: So San Diego, what’s keeping you awake that’s so boring? ME: Nothing much, Manhattan. Just assignments. But it’s only 12:30 here, isn’t it 3 AM in NY? UNKNOWN: That would be correct. ME: Then what’s keeping YOU awake? UNKNOWN: Won my hockey game, went to celebrate, and now I’m just sitting here.

I chuckled, intrigued by the late-night conversation.

ME: Hockey? Do you play for a college team or just for fun?

There was a long pause, a stark contrast to the quick replies earlier.

MANHATTAN: Yeah, I do college hockey. ME: Nice, what position? I don’t know LOTS about hockey or anything, but I'm friends with some guys on the SDSU team. MANHATTAN: Haha, right wing. But really, I just rough people up 💪 ME: Oh cool! (no clue what a right wing does) MANHATTAN: Then what position does your boyfriend play?

I raised an eyebrow, feeling the conversation shift.

ME: I never said that word. MANHATTAN: And I'm just checking. You are a girl, right? I’m not about to hit on a 50-year-old man.

I laughed, surprised by his forwardness.

ME: You’re about to hit on me? Are you meant to tell me that? MANHATTAN: Probably not, but I had a few drinks a bit ago so I can blame it on the alcohol if it goes wrong. ME: Yes, I am a girl. MANHATTAN: Wonderful, now that I know you're not trying to lure me into your mother's basement so you can use my skin as your new rug, can I get your name?

I smirked, enjoying the playful tone.

ME: Whoa, never said anything about NOT making a new rug. I kind of like the whole Manhattan & San Diego anonymous thing we have happening. MANHATTAN: Hmm, I guess so. A secret identity might not be the best move though. ME: Are you sure you want to risk it? Might say something regrettable since it’s 4 AM for you now. MANHATTAN: But it's only 1 AM for you, so it’s a risk I’ll take ;) I smiled, feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity. ME: Exactly how many strangers do you text like this? MANHATTAN: If I say only 1 will that make you feel special? ME: So you just go around contacting random numbers in hopes they’re girls your age so you can try to knock their socks off? MANHATTAN: You catch on fast, San Diego.

I rubbed my eyes, getting off the couch, typing as I walked through my small apartment. I passed my roommate’s bedroom, noticing her snoring with her phone still looping the last TikTok she’d been watching.

As I reached my room, I took off my hoodie and left my phone on my bed, watching for the next message.

ME: So, tell me about your hockey match. MANHATTAN: Well… I actually got ejected so I didn’t do much. ME: Ahh, a ruffian. MANHATTAN: All I did was elbow a guy! ME: In the face? MANHATTAN: No comment. ME: While going really fast on knife shoes? MANHATTAN: I said no comment, San Diego 😠😠 But yes. I may have a little notoriety for… enforcing. ME: How many fights does college hockey have? Oh wow. MANHATTAN: I think that's enough of my sports career. Tell me about you. ME: About me? MANHATTAN: I want to know about you. I mean it, tell me something.

I hesitated, then smiled.

ME: Um, I can't think of anything… I just got into bed. MANHATTAN: Then you should go, San Diego, get some rest. Nice chatting with you (and I'll text you later in the day if that's alright). ME: Bye, Manhattan 👋 (and I wouldn't be opposed).

I placed my phone on the nightstand, my thoughts lingering on the unexpected connection as I drifted off to sleep.

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I woke up to a new text message, my groggy eyes struggling to adjust to the brightness of my phone screen.

Wednesday, March 13, 2024today 10:32am MANHATTAN: Morning, San Diego! Did you sleep well?

I smiled at the message, feeling a little flutter in my chest. I hadn’t expected him to actually text me again, but here he was.

ME: Morning! I did, thanks 😊 How about you? Finally got some sleep after your 4 am texting spree? MANHATTAN: Eventually, yeah. Slept in a bit, but now I’m back at it. MANHATTAN: Classes and all that. ME: Fun times… What’s your major? MANHATTAN: Business. It’s alright, but hockey’s the real passion. You? ME: English, hence my very exciting letter-writing assignment 🙄 MANHATTAN: Ah, right. The one you’re totally not procrastinating on. ME: Exactly! I’m just waiting for inspiration to hit. MANHATTAN: Maybe I can help with that.

I raised an eyebrow at the screen, intrigued.

ME: Oh yeah? You’re a secret writing genius, Mr. Hockey? MANHATTAN: Hardly. But I’m good at roughing up boring ideas. Give me a shot. What’s the assignment again? ME: I have to write a long letter. Could be to anyone about anything… It's supposed to show off my writing skills. MANHATTAN: How about a letter to a stranger? Like some random person you met by mistake… 👀

I laughed, seeing where he was going with this.

ME: Sounds like something I’d do. Maybe I’ll take you up on that. MANHATTAN: If you need material, I can keep sending you nonsense texts. You know, for inspiration. ME: Careful, I might just put all your deepest, darkest secrets into my assignment. MANHATTAN: Bold of you to assume I have any secrets, San Diego. ME: Everyone has secrets, Manhattan.

There was a pause before he responded, the three little dots appearing and disappearing a few times. I wondered what he was thinking or if I’d said something to make him hesitate.

MANHATTAN: Guess you’ll have to keep talking to me to find out 😉 ME: Smooth. Real smooth. MANHATTAN: It’s part of my so-called charm. So, what’s your day looking like? ME: Not much, honestly. Maybe I’ll hit the library, try to get some work done. MANHATTAN: Or you could do something fun instead. Life’s too short to spend all day in the library. ME: Fun? What do you suggest? MANHATTAN: Well, if you were in Manhattan, I’d say we go skating. But since you’re all the way over there… What do people even do for fun in San Diego? ME: I could go to the beach… but it’s not really the best weather for it today. MANHATTAN: Rainy? ME: Just cloudy, kind of chilly. The ocean looks a bit gloomy when it’s like this. MANHATTAN: Gloomy beaches, sounds like a whole vibe. Maybe that’s your inspiration. A letter to the ocean or something. ME: You really think a letter to the ocean will get me a passing grade? MANHATTAN: If you write it well enough, why not? Make it all deep and meaningful. Professors eat that stuff up. ME: Haha, I’ll think about it. Anyway, what about you? Any big plans? MANHATTAN: Just practice later, then probably hanging out with the team. Nothing too exciting. ME: Sounds like a solid day. Try not to get ejected this time. MANHATTAN: No promises. Gotta keep my reputation, you know? ME: Right, the tough guy. I’ll keep that in mind. MANHATTAN: But I’m a softie at heart, San Diego. Don’t let the hockey fool you. ME: Noted. Maybe I’ll write that in my letter. “To the boy who’s tough on the ice but soft underneath…” MANHATTAN: Now you’re getting it. Make me sound mysterious. ME: Mysterious, huh? I’ll see what I can do.

I was grinning now, the banter flowing easily between us. There was something about this random stranger that made me feel lighter, like maybe today wasn’t going to be so dull after all.

ME: Alright, I should actually get ready if I’m going to do anything productive today. But thanks for the distraction, Manhattan. MANHATTAN: Anytime, San Diego. I’ll text you later? ME: Looking forward to it.

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I was curled up on my couch, a mug of tea warming my hands as I absentmindedly scrolled through my phone. The past month had flown by, and my unexpected friendship with 'Manhattan' had become a regular part of my routine. We’d been texting nearly every day, sharing snippets of our lives, random thoughts, and plenty of playful banter. But lately, something had shifted—his messages had taken on a more flirty tone, and, honestly, I didn’t mind it.

My phone buzzed, and I smiled when his contact name popped up on the screen.

Friday, April 12, 2024today 8:45pm MANHATTAN: What’s up, San Diego? Missing me yet?

I couldn’t help but grin at his words. He’d been dropping little hints like this more and more, and each time, it sent a little thrill through me.

ME: Why would I miss you? We just talked this morning 😏 MANHATTAN: I don’t know, you tell me. Maybe you’re secretly counting down the hours until you hear from me again. ME: Oh, totally. I’m just sitting here pining away. MANHATTAN: Knew it. You can’t resist my charm. ME: Your ego is something else, you know that? MANHATTAN: Only because you feed it. Anyway, what’s the plan for tonight? Any hot dates?

I felt a little flutter in my chest at the question, even though I knew he was probably just teasing.

ME: Just me, myself, and I tonight. Super exciting. MANHATTAN: That’s a shame. If I were in San Diego, I’d take you out somewhere nice. ME: Oh yeah? Where would you take me, Mr. Big City? MANHATTAN: Somewhere with a view, good food, and even better company. ME: Wow, smooth talker. Do you use this line on all the girls? MANHATTAN: Only the ones who accidentally text me back 😉

I laughed, shaking my head at his response.

ME: Lucky me, I guess. MANHATTAN: I think I’m the lucky one here.

I paused, reading the message again, feeling my cheeks warm slightly. There it was again—that flirty edge that had been creeping into his texts lately. And I couldn’t pretend I didn’t like it.

ME: Is that so? MANHATTAN: Definitely. How many girls are cool enough to joke about turning me into a rug and then end up being someone I actually want to talk to every day? ME: Fair point. I’m one of a kind. MANHATTAN: That you are. So, since I’m not there to take you out, what are you doing to entertain yourself? ME: I’m just relaxing, maybe watching a movie later. Nothing too crazy. MANHATTAN: Sounds cozy. I’d offer to keep you company, but I’m not sure you’re ready to handle my charming self in person. ME: Oh, I’m sure I could handle you just fine. MANHATTAN: Careful, San Diego. I might take that as a challenge.

I bit my lip, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves at his boldness. This was definitely new territory, but I couldn’t deny that I was enjoying it.

ME: Maybe I want you to.

There was a pause, and I watched the typing bubble appear and disappear, wondering what was going through his mind. My heart raced in anticipation, unsure of what to expect next. Then, my phone buzzed again—not with a message, but with a photo.

I opened it and stared at the image for a moment, a smile tugging at my lips. He was standing in what looked like a hallway, wearing a worn white T-shirt and a Yankees baseball cap. His hair was a little long, curling out from under the cap, and he had a faint mustache that gave him a laid-back, almost mischievous look. His smile was subtle but warm, like he wasn’t quite sure what to expect either.

MANHATTAN: Figured it’s only fair you see who you’re talking to.

I couldn’t help but feel my heart skip a beat. He was more than I’d imagined—there was something so genuine and relaxed about him, and that easy confidence I’d sensed in our conversations was clearly just a part of who he was.

ME: Not bad, Manhattan. Not bad at all. MANHATTAN: Glad you approve. Now, your turn?

I felt a rush of nerves as I realized he was asking for a photo in return. This felt like a big step—more real than anything we’d done before. But there was also something exciting about it, about finally showing him who I was after all this time.

I took a deep breath, then snapped a quick selfie, trying to capture something that felt natural but not too staged. I hesitated only for a second before hitting send, my heart pounding as I waited for his reaction.

ME: Alright, but don’t judge too harshly.

My phone buzzed almost immediately after I sent the photo. I could practically feel my pulse in my ears as I watched the screen, waiting for his response. It didn’t take long.

MANHATTAN: Wow.

I bit my lip, a small smile creeping onto my face. Just one word, but it was enough to make my stomach flip.

ME: "Wow" good, or "wow" bad? MANHATTAN: Definitely good. You’re beautiful, San Diego. I wasn’t prepared for that.

I felt my cheeks heat up at his words. There was something different about receiving a compliment from someone who’d only known me through words until now—someone who hadn’t seen my face but still wanted to know more about me.

ME: You’re just saying that. MANHATTAN: I’m really not. I mean it. I didn’t expect this whole wrong-number thing to turn into something like this, but I’m glad it did. ME: Me too. It’s been… nice, talking to you. Getting to know you. MANHATTAN: More than nice, if you ask me. But now that I’ve seen you, I kind of want to see more of you.

My heart skipped a beat at that. The idea of him wanting more, even though we’d only known each other through these messages, made something flutter inside me.

ME: More of me? How so? MANHATTAN: Not in a creepy way, I promise. Just… more of your thoughts, your stories. I like hearing about your day, what you’re up to. I guess I’m just curious about you. ME: You’re making me blush over here. MANHATTAN: Good. You’ve been doing that to me since day one.

I felt my face heat up even more, and I couldn’t help but smile. It was strange how this random guy from Manhattan, who I’d never even met, could make me feel this way.

ME: Well, if you’re really that curious, ask away. What do you want to know? MANHATTAN: That sounds perfect. What’s your favorite book? ME: That’s like asking a parent to pick their favorite child! How would you feel if I asked you your favorite hockey team? MANHATTAN: New York Rangers. Easy. Number 1 😉 ME: Alright, I'll take your word for it. MANHATTAN: So, tell me something else. What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t yet?

I laughed softly to myself, feeling that familiar warmth from our conversation. The idea of us just getting to know each other like this, little by little, was comforting. It felt safe and exciting all at once.

ME: I’ve always wanted to travel more. There’s a whole world out there, and I’ve only seen a tiny part of it. MANHATTAN: Where’s the first place you’d go? ME: Italy, I think. The food, the history, the art—I want to experience all of it. MANHATTAN: That sounds incredible. I’ve always wanted to see more of Europe, too. ME: Maybe one day we’ll both get there. Until then, I guess we’ll just have to keep texting about it. MANHATTAN: I’m more than okay with that, San Diego. Talking to you is the best part of my day. ME: Same here, Manhattan.

As I set my phone down, I felt a sense of contentment wash over me. There was no rush, no pressure—just a growing connection with someone who was quickly becoming more than just a stranger on the other end of a text. And for now, that was more than enough.

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It had been almost a month since the night I saw Manhattan’s face for the first time, and our conversations had only gotten better since then. We talked almost every day, sharing little details about our lives, random thoughts, and sometimes just silence on the other end of the line when we were both too tired to text much. I was surprised by how close I’d grown to him, even without meeting in person.

One afternoon, I got an email from one of my professors that sent my heart racing. My university was offering a select group of students a fully-funded, three-day trip to New York City to attend a special literary conference. The idea was to network, attend workshops, and get a taste of the publishing world in one of the most vibrant cities in the world. And somehow, I’d been chosen.

As soon as I read the email, my mind went straight to Manhattan. The idea of being in the same city as him, even if I wasn’t planning on meeting up, was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. But as much as I wanted to share the news with him, a different thought crossed my mind—a surprise. What if I didn’t tell him? What if I showed up in his city and surprised him with the news?

The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. He’d been so open and sweet in our conversations, and I wanted to do something special. It felt like the perfect opportunity to catch him off guard, in a good way.

That evening, when I grabbed my phone to text him, I felt a little mischievous. I decided to keep the New York trip to myself for now.

Tuesday, May 2, 2024today 8:45pm ME: Hey, how’s your day going? MANHATTAN: Not bad, just finished practice. How about you? ME: Same old, same old. Classes, assignments, you know the drill. MANHATTAN: Ah, the glamorous life of a student. Anything exciting on the horizon?

I bit my lip, resisting the urge to spill the beans.

ME: Nothing too crazy. Just trying to survive this semester. MANHATTAN: You’ve got this. I believe in you, San Diego. ME: Thanks, Manhattan. I appreciate that. MANHATTAN: Anytime. So, what’s on your mind? ME: Honestly, just thinking about how much I’d love to get away for a bit. You know, escape the routine. MANHATTAN: I hear you. If you ever find yourself in need of a change of scenery, you know where to find me 😉

I smiled to myself, knowing that in just a few weeks, I would be much closer to him than he realized.

ME: I’ll keep that in mind. MANHATTAN: Good. I’d be happy to play tour guide if you ever made it to the Big Apple. ME: I’ll have to remember that. You seem like you’d be a pretty good tour guide. MANHATTAN: Oh, I am. You’d be in excellent hands.

I chuckled, the idea of actually seeing him in person lingering in the back of my mind. But for now, I decided to keep the surprise to myself.

ME: I’ll bet. Maybe one day I’ll take you up on that offer. MANHATTAN: I hope so. It would be fun.

A sense of anticipation buzzed through me. The thought of being in New York, in his city, and surprising him with my presence was exciting. It was something to look forward to, something just for me, and maybe for him too—when the time was right.

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to be continued... hehehe

[idontcare4urmom]

wrong || matt sturniolo

stepbrother!matt x fem!reader

summary: where your dad found a new woman on his life after one year of your mom's death,so you are forced to live all together after a lot of pressure,but what you didn't know yet is that her son is a total temping being that will send you over the edge..in many ways.

warnings: smuttt,unprotected sex,not proofread,porn with plot,dirty talk,eating out,pet-names,suggestive,scratching,tits sucking,etc.

a/n: my first language is not English,this sure has some grammar or other errors so i am sorry<3

."🎀".

"what the fuck you mean we have to move in with her?" you were basically shouting on your dad,and you weren't sure if you were more annoyed at the fact that he had moved on so far already or cause he didn't even cared to ask you if you acknowledge with it.

"i told you too many times that this is a very big and important step to me honey,besides her place is absolutely flawless,you will love it" his words only made you angrier,but you decided not to push it anymore since you knew deep down it would be waste of time,he had made his decision.

--------------------------------------

the days passed quickly,and you found yourself holding your suitcase in front of a captivating building that would change a part of your life for many years,at least your dad did not lie,it was trully more than luxurious,so with a deep sigh you walked until the doorway with him,your anxious levels on high.

after a few knocks the door opened to reveal a surprisingly tall,appealing woman standing there,with brunette silky highlights and a pretty good enough shaped body,the sight made you furrow although you could tell why your father had fallen for her.you were caught off guard when you were the one she even pulled into an embrace first and seemed in general eager to meet you.

"oh sweetie your dad has told me many things about you,i am Lana,come in,come in" you didn't had much time to process because she was pushing your hand gently inside,your eyes widening as you took in the house with your eyes,it was for sure bringing vibes of a cozy,modern place.

you didn't want to be in your normal pissy mood for the reason that she was treating you politely for now,so you made a small comment "wow,the decoration is really nice"

"oh thank you,i want you to be comfortable and feel welcomed here,you can go check the guest room that will be your own,is down the hall,if you need any help just call out my name" you nodded a little and began making your way towards the apparently new space you will probably spend most of the day at.

but,without realizing a sudden unrecognized human figure appeared in front of you while making it's way to another room,making you leave a small yelp from your lips "who are you?"

the blye eyed boy raised an eyebrow once he heard the question,letting a sarcastic laugh as he spoke "very ironic for someone to ask when they are the one in my house" oh? well he had sure attitude for the few seconds you had met him. you were about to say something in response even so he continued, a sheepish grin forming on his lips when he examined your presence through his dark eyelashes "wait..you must be my stepsister"

"huh?" was the only word you could express,you were incredibly confused--who was he? "i am Lana's son, Matt,no one informed you about me?" it was like he was able to read your thoughts,it only creeped you out more.

"no..my father must forgot to announce your existence to me" the words snarked out of your tongue as you were trying hard to act sassy,but for a disguise,cause shit the more you were observeting him the more perfect he got.

he had the necessary amount of beard to sense in case he ever trailed kisses down your body,his blue orbs seemed like they could stare deep into your soul yet in a enjoyable way,and hell those fingers were too distracting for no reason,especially with those silver rings that were practically begging for attention.just any of his facial features were ideal--however you weren't supposed to fall for him,it would be wrong.

you snapped out of your thoughts when there was a sound of a familiar voice snapping across the end of the hall,approaching the both of you excitedly,even though she was addresing specifically to you "i see you guys met,sorry darlin' i forgot to have a quick chat with you about that i have a kid..anyway he may be a pain sometimes but i am sure you will get along well with him"

--------------------------------

two weeks have passed,and she was completely wrong.every day the urge of smashing a bottle on top of his head is only increasing,he would suddenly barg into your bedroom searching for his own belongings,asserting that he often lost things by accident since he is being here from time to time--why? his set-up pc is on your area for years now.

despite that,his own bedroom is just a few steps away from yours,you have been struggling with sleeping peacefully cause he would blast music on his speaker at 2-3 am,you are almost confirmed that he must be doing it on purpose--and it doesn't end here,there is worse.

you are aware of a guy having 'needs' so the occasional echo of moaning could be heard to you from the thin paper walls,you swear that it's music to your ears and you feel like your mind is sabotaging you.he is annoying,that though didn't stopped you from having a weird desire rising in you for him,a pang on your chest with guilt for possessing the most unholy fantasizes whenever he would roam around in just a pair of sweatpants.

with all this being said,you produced a baffling bond with Matt,signs showing that he is on the same page as you,which leads you to today.laying down on your bed with your phone on your hands,stressfully ignoring his presence a few meters away.him entirely concentrated on his screen computer playing--God knows what--video games,with the controller on his hands.the silense more than unbearable.

you were determined to prove to yourself that maybe you can spend some time with him,you took advantage of him not wearing any headphones and lightly tapped his shoulder,pointing towards the black console afterwards "can i try?" you anticipated for his response,silently hoping that he doesn't mind.

Matt was kind of surpised by your request,nevertheless he had finished the round so he nodded "umh..sure" he slid off from the gaming chair while handing you the controller,your fingers barely brushing with his yet enough to make your head spinning.

you rested your body on the mesh fabric as he sat on the bed,and with a glance of the buttons you were clueless of the task in hand,not having any idea on how to participate in the online game.luckily,he noticed the confused look written on your face so he came next to you and started to make a fast learning lesson,

he taught you how to jump,how to run,how to kill,and other features you require to have in case of a proper match.as he did so,you caught him taking a few glimpses of your chest--it's not like he could help it,your crop top was exposing a certain amount of your cleavage,making it hard for him to focus.

a devilish smile curled to your face when you noticed,feeling bold enough to adjust down the shirt such as leaving only your breasts covered--matt could feel his heart beat raising,the temperature of the room turning thick once he stopped talking.

"can you show me how to jump again? i don't think i get it" you spoke,a hint of suggestiveness leaking from your tone--and he didn't want more than just to devour you right there, your father and his mother had left for shopping,so you were both totally alone which sent shivers down your back,

the tension bloomed into a insufferable feeling between the two of you,causing your breath to hitch around your throat,especially when you felt his fingers starting to touch yours fully in attempt to answer your previous 'request'.a hushed gasp breaking out from you when there was a unexpected hand gesture tracing your thigh in a agonizingly pace--screw this.

with a smooth shift of your face and waist you palmed his cheeks,bringing his lips to yours into a fiery dance.he didn't hesitate to shove his tongue in your mouth,impatiently exploring your taste before nipping down your bottom lip,eliciting a moan from you that get's shallowed against him,

the sound you made vibrated through matt's whole body,landing directly straight to his core and he could feel his jeans growing tight around his crotch,he didn't ever remembered himself getting hard from just a making out session--he craved more,he needed more,and so did you.

his hands started travelling their way to your stomach,crawling upwards until he squeezed your nipples over the fabric of your top and reaching to lift it up, "is this okay?" you nodded desperately at the question,he didn't wasted time by taking it off over your head,unclasping with one motion your bra afterwards to shower your bare chest with open-mouthed kisses,

your hums of approval soon turned into whimpers when he wrapped his mouth on the flesh of your left breast,swirling his tongue around it while his hand pinched the other between his free fingers,he repeated his actions by giving the same treatment to your right one after.

with a loud pop he pulled away,slowly reaching under the gaming chair so he is on his knees,his eye pupils half-lidded and fluttering over your face before he yanks off your shorts with panties,exposing your already wet dripping pussy to his hungry gaze,

"fuck you are soaked,how long have you been dreaming this? have you been waiting for me to finally pleasure you sweetheart?" you could him mutter cooing through gritted teeth,licking at your thighs in a intractable speed as he itches towards the arching spot in between your legs,lavishing his attention there as he made a long stripe up on your clit,making you buck your hips against his face shamelessly,

your nails found his hair,gripping and tugging on it for support,dragging a hiss from his mouth as he began to lap on your juices like you were his last meal,you started riding his face while whining pathetically,the obsence resounds filling the room as he continued to satisfy you.

his index finger rubbed your entrance,letting you shaking for more and barely hearing his gagged whispers "you taste so fucking amazing,such an intoxicating cunt",your lower abdomen started quivering into the familiar knot,reminding you of your approaching release,making you clench uncontrollably around his mouth,

"come on,finish all over face baby" matt sneered out when he sucked on robs of your pre-cum, your lips forming a perfect 'o' shape in the same time you swirled your digits on his roots so his head is forced to be still there,with a long pornographic moan you erupted,spurting thick,white jets that made your legs glistening.

after pulling away he swooped you into his arms,carrying you bridal-style on the mattress of the bed,him laying down firstly before grasping your sides stronly,helping you to be on top of him as he guided your hips so you can push against his clothed erection,the sensation maddening for the both of you.

your still sensitive heat grinded back and forth,feeling his cock poking under you so your hands progress to tug the zipper of his jeans down,sliding them down along with his boxers to his ankles in a way of exposing his throbbing tip,you usually didn't liked how dicks looked but matt's was different; a needy tenderness to have it deep inside you,he adjusted with ease the head down your folds,and with no doubt you sinked down on his length.

a unbidden squeal slipped from you as he grunted repeatedly,his grunts turned into loud groans of pure filthiness as soon as you started bouncing yourself,your tight walls squelching him, sending him closer to the edge even though it hadn't passed a minute of you riding him,his back arching forward which gave you the opportunity of scratching down the skin of his behind shoulders,

"such a good girl,fucking yourself on your stepbrother's cock, such a whore f'me" his words actually made you feel pitiful yet encouraging your movements to speed up their pace,his hips thrusting up to meet yours so he can pound into your hole frequently, "c-close" you panted out,your second orgasm increasing through you as your walls clinged around him,the actions driving matt insane "going to fill you up,do you want that? do you want me to cum inside you?"

you miserably sobbed in bliss and let a ''hphm'' of approval,before you knew it matt had busted,his climax exploding extremely hard into your pussy,following suit after him with your head throwed back and stopping after a minute so you can pull yourself out of him,both of you being a panting mess,

"that was incredible" "i am never letting you to even enter my room again"

------------------------------------

evelyn speaks!! thank you so much for 250 followers jixijcmjg,my last post with Matt got more than 800 notes likeee insane,thank you ALL for the support it means everything xoxo🤍🤍

tags! @writtensturn @pixiespax @verywonderlandpolice @itsnotmariahh @user9383738392 @monroesturnns @badussybumper @nwlluvsturnsstars17 @shadowthesim

[stars1997]

Matt Tempe smut I beg u🙏🏼🙏🏼

Here you go! sorry it took so long, but i hope you like it!!

Gaming

Paring(s): Matt Rempe x reader

Warnings: (18+) smut!!!, blowjob, head pushing, trying to keep quiet, getting head while on call with friends, praising, degrading, mentions of head pushing, cum swallowing.

(Not edited)

Summary: Matt was playing video games with his friends. Y/n wants to get his attention. She comes over to him when he’s playing video games and decides to give him a blowie. He’s playing with some friends, so he has to be quiet.

1.2k words

_

“Come on guys! You guys’ fucking suck, your literal dog shit. I had two guys on me, and I called for backup but none of you guys came to help.” Matt clicks some buttons on the controller in his hand before reaching up to adjust the mic on his headset so it sat in front of his mouth more.

“Oh, don’t fucking start this shit with me again. Just start the next game and when I call for help you guys better show up.” He shakes his head and lets out a laugh to the voice in his headphones.

He’s been playing video games for the past four hours now. you had no problem with it because it gave you time to do the things that you wanted to do like take a bath and read some of your book. It also allowed you to take a nap that you normally don’t get to take because Matt always bugs you with stupid shit.

but now you have woken from your nap. And after getting a cup of water and a snack you realized that you got nothing else to do. One thing you love to do when Matt is playing video games is to sit and watch him. you take your water and snack over to the couch and sit next to Matt.

“Hi baby. How was your bath and nap?” He asks, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before going right back to his game.

“It was good!” You grab an apple slice and bring it to his mouth so he can eat it. He takes it and chews it fast before he’s back to yelling at his friends.

You lay down on the couch so now your head is resting in his lap so you’re looking up at him. you finish eating your apples, watching him as he plays. You then turn so you’re facing his stomach. Coming up with a plan to entertain yourself.

You give him a fake yawn and pull his shirt over your head. Making him believe that you are just going to take another nap. You move your head in his lap trying to find a comfortable position to lay it. He lets out a grunt before reaching up to mute himself.

“Baby what are you doing?” he pulls his shit up so he can see your face.

“Getting comfortable so I can take a nap on my favorite pillow.” You pull his shirt back over your face not giving him a chance to respond.

You could hear muffled yelling coming out of his headphones. It doesn’t take him long to go back to his game. You lean forward and plant little kisses on his stomach.

He lets out a little hum. You kiss him harder, sucking and pulling at his skin so that it would leave marks. He mutes himself again.

“Stop that. You’re making me hard and I’m trying to play my game. give me like a few more games and then I’ll give you all the attention you need.” You send him a little pout.

“But I want you In my mouth now.” You move off the couch and kneel in front of  him. he was wearing a pair of basketball shorts. You slid them down enough to take his cock out of his pants.

“I’m going to suck you off while you play your game. so, unmute and play your game.” you told him before wrapping your mouth around the head of his cock. He lets out a hiss before reaching up and unmuting his microphone. You were taking your time knowing that it would make him frustrated.

“Come on guys lets finish this thing up. I’m getting tiered and want to go take a nap.” Matt says before you decide to take him fully into your mouth. His head tips. You could hear the muffled voices talking to him, but you know he wasn’t listening to what they were saying.

You start to move your head slowly. Taking your time and enjoying the feeling of having him in your mouth. you move your head so you’re now sucking the tip of his cock. The taste of precum hits your mouth.

You could tell he struggling to not make a sound. His game basically forgotten now. he tosses his controller to the side. his hand grabs your hair, and he pushes your head down. The tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

“Guys I got to go.” his free hand hits a few buttons on the controller shutting off the console before tossing his headphones to the side landing next to the controller.

“Fuck you couldn’t have waited, could you? you hand to have my dick in your mouth. You nasty little slut. But this is what you wanted right? To be a slut and let the guys hear you sucking my cock?” his hand keeps your head down on his cock. You struggle to take in a breath, giving him two taps on his leg to let him know. He pulls you off his cock and makes you look up at him.

“You pretty little slut. You know the guys ask about how good you are in bed all the time, but I never tell them because your mine. Now, you’re going to suck my cock just how I like it or I’ll make you sleep on the couch tonight. Does that sound good?” You try to nod a yes but his hand that’s still griping your hair stops you.

“Yes.” Your voice also failing you, but he takes it anyway.

“Good fucking girl.” He pushes your head down so his tip is touching your lips. you open your mouth taking him in. your hand wraps around the base of his cock. he pulls your hand away and pushes your head down further. You don’t mind when he pushes your head because you know that if you told him, you didn’t want that he would stop. But you love it when he’s like this so you don’t really care at the moment.

You let him take control for a bit. He will occasionally, thrusting up into your mouth instead of pushing your head down on him. You could tell that now he’s getting closer to cuming.

His cock is twitching in your mouth and his grip on your hair his letting up. You bring your hands up, so they are now resting on his stomach. You drag your nails around his stomach, you could feel his stomach tense up.

He pulls you off his cock. His hand going from your hair to jerking himself off. The tip of his cock now resting on your tongue as you wait for him to let go.

“Fuck. Fuck. Yes! Oh god.” His cum lading on your tongue. Some of it sliding down your chin as you swallow what’s in your mouth.

“Fuck such a good girl for me huh? Always want to please me, don’t you? now go to the bedroom so I can fuck you for being a brat.” You stand up leaning forward to give him a kiss on his lips.

you step back and give him a wink. Taking your top off and sliding your bottoms off too before turning around and walking to your room.

“Brat!” He yells out from behind you.

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

we're in love - m. murdock

a/n: hi guys not dead just played a LOT of baldurs gate over break and now im back ay college with matt murdock brainrot this ones been floating around the old noggin a while. sorry. likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! <3 warnings: DEAD DOVE with a happy ending, hard of hearing reader, cannon typical marvel violence, probably badly written violence, matt being upset, once again im tired and sleepy and bad at doing warnings, reader gets kidnapped TWICE, reader has superpowers, reader is TECHNICALLY a hybrid but literally just in the way that she has small antlers and deer like abilities (strength, jump height), fucked up experiments, ANGST ANGST ANGST, memory loss trope but like... the one from the hunger games. matt is hopelessly in love with reader, reader wants to kill matt, kissing, implied sexual ideas, cursing. SHAMELESS USE OF REAL OR NOT REAL FROM THG, reader having anxiety, and allusions of sex. word count: 7.1k summary: when your past finally catches up to you, matt truly learns what 'in sickness and in health' means. pairing: matt murdock x hoh!wife!reader now playing: we're in love - boygenius "will you still love me if it turns out I'm insane?/i know what you'll say/but it helps to hear you say it anyway."

Falling in love with Matt Murdock was the easy part.

Falling back in love with him was the tough bit.

You had spent the years leading up to meeting him as a boxer turned vigilante— Your dad had taught you how to fight young, which led to a lot of trouble at school until he eventually started helping you enter teenage fights against your mom’s wishes.

It’s how you paid for college.

And then, after your college experience, you lose control. It was never supposed to happen the way it did. You had lost a fight and stole the guy’s motorcycle in defiance. But the roads were wet from an early snow and people of New York never knew how to drive.

Just like that, the nerves in your hands were shot. The accident got your hearing too since you got sick from the cold after your accident. The infection got so bad that it took the hearing from your left ear—And half from your right.

For months, you thought you’d never gain control of your hands again, snapping from a promising young fighter to a deaf and shaky temp. You were miserable. Fighting was your everything for so long.

And then The Doctor found you.

No, not the alien from the British television show, but a man who promised you your old life back. He found you while you were at your lowest and realized that you would do anything for your old life back.

He said in exchange for your old life, all you would have to do would be a test subject for a harmless new drug he was testing out.

You were so enamored by the idea of your old life that you had decided to take him up on his offer, so you were whisked away upstate with a group of other people desperate enough to try this experiment out.

Every morning you were given a shot of blue liquid into your arm, and then, you were to preform a series of tasks to record your progress. After three weeks you grew frustrated that you had seen no progress. You spent most of your time asking people to talk into your right ear and becoming mad at The Doctor.

About a month in, you started growing antlers.

At first, you freaked out. Like, truly, screamed and yelled, wanting an explanation. The Doctor celebrated, telling you this was great news—And to prove it, he had you pick up a pen and write a sentence out. Your hands didn’t shake and did everything you told them to do.

On top of the antlers and the newfound control of your nerves, you were strong—Fast, too. You could jump twelve-foot walls. The Doctor was obsessed with you. While other patients died off from whatever drugs you were being given, you were thriving.

At the end of your three-month stay, you were excited to leave and head back to your life. You’d just have to wear beanies everywhere to hide your antlers, you told yourself. A small price to pay.

But The Doctor wouldn’t let you leave.

How could he, he asked you, when you were his best test subject?

Being a prisoner was a lot worse than you thought it would be. Day in and day out, you were trained to be a soldier, you think. Fighting various guards, doing different athletic tests. The serum hadn’t fixed your hearing, but it had given you all of these gifts.

Until The Doctor became cruel.

He gave the guards these batons that had shock currents at the end of them, instructing them to use it whenever you talked back or underperformed. For months you struggled through days of electric shocks and experiments.

One night, a guard slipped into your cell, expecting you to be an easy target. You quickly showed him differently, knocking him out and stealing his weapons. And then, you ran. You ran until your feet bled—No shoes.

An old woman who had retired upstate welcomed you into her small cabin and fed you, never asking about the small antlers growing out of your head. She simply gave you a warm knit cap and a pair of boots for the cold.

You remember eating chili with her as she told you about her deceased husband. You changed your last name to theirs, knowing The Doctor would find you if you kept going by your name. You stayed with her for a weekend, coming back from gathering firewood to The Doctor’s men there, having killed the kind old woman and on the hunt for you. You stole her car and never looked back.

The next few weeks after that had been full of killing various soldiers and armies that The Doctor had sent after you, until you eventually pushed The Doctor off a building, believing to have killed him for good.

And that was that.

You went on with your life as usual, finding a permanent job as a secretary. In a law office.

Which, of course, is where you met Matt.

With Matt, you never felt the need to hide who you were. Of course, it was a lot easier to tell him that some mad scientist had infected you with a drug that turned you into a deer hybrid when he told you that he was Daredevil.

And with time, some of the effects of the serum began to fizzle out. Strength, Agility, Antlers—Those stayed. The control over your hands didn’t. But you made peace with that. Physical Therapy twice a week and hearing aids helped.

Especially because early Sunday mornings were filled with Matt running his fingers through your hair, running his pointer finger along the curves of your antlers. He takes your hands and kisses your fingertips as they shake, hushing you softly when you start crying as he does.

He spars with you and spends nights running around New York City with you, jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

He tells you about Elektra, Stick, his dad, and Fisk.

One day, when you feel safe enough, wrapped up in his arms and a layer of blankets as snow falls against the windows, you tell him about The Doctor.  You explain to him your nightmares, and why they will never go away.

He kisses away your tears and promises he’ll never let anything happen to you.

When he asks you to marry him, you don’t hesitate to say yes. There’s not a moment where you regret that decision. You insist to get married in the summer, during the short month where your antlers shed before they grow back. He agrees happily, just wanting you to be happy.

You’ve been married for about five months when you start to think about kids. You’ve been married six when you realize the worst possible scenario is your reality—When vials of blue serum show up at your front door with a note scribbled out—

‘My Best Test Subject,

I cannot wait to catch up with you soon.

-The Doctor’

You call Matt in a panic, begging him to come home and be with you. He obliges and holds you as you calm down. He promised to love you in sickness and in health, and that is what he fully intends to do.

This is the story of the greatest challenge that your marriage would face.

• • •

After the note you had received, you almost exclusively traveled with Matt. Even for just a casual stroll, a walk to the deli or home from work, He was there with you. He knew you could handle yourself, but you felt safer with him close by.

But Matt’s senses were never as focused when it rained, especially on nights like today. The rain pours, it almost stings against his skin. And it’s loud. You don’t have your hearing aids in, so they catch you both by surprise.

It all happens too fast—

In an instant, Matt is being pulled off your arm and slammed against the closest brick alley, and when he hears the click of a gun behind him, he realizes what’s happening. He tries to fight, but before he can make any process, someone is swinging that gun against his head, and when he wakes up, he’s all alone.

He calls out to you and gets no response other than thunder rumbling from miles away. He is filled with nothing but a rage, a determination to find you.

He scrambles for his phone and uses it to call Karen.

“I need you to get Frank.” He tells her, “Please. I.. I don’t know what happened, but.. He took her, I need.. Karen, I need to find her.” He tells her.

Frank is on his way to New York within the hour.

• • •

When you wake up, your arms are strapped behind your back in some sort of metal contraption. You can feel the ache in your hands, indicating that you had fought against whoever brought you here. The room is quiet. A small cot in one corner, but the rest of the room is barren.

You’re wearing white pants and a gray muscle tee, with no shoes. You’re suddenly thankful you left your wedding ring at home, so that it might not end up in his hands.

You wait a while, and then the door opens. The Doctor, flanked by two men in heavy armor, holding those batons you’re all too acquainted with, steps into the room. You simply stare, but The Doctor looks like a child on Christmas morning.

But there’s something else to his appearance. His left eye is this bright yellow, and his pupil is a different shape. Green scales travel up his neck and coat the bottom right half of his face, and down his arms, reaching his fingertips. He looks like a monster, but you quickly realize what has happened.

Whatever serum gave you your abilities, was given to him. Only, his was made from that of snakes, not deer.

“My beautiful creation!” He gasps and takes your face in his hand, planting a kiss to your head, right between your antlers. “It’s been too long, you know.” His ‘s’ sounds are elongated, and his teeth are sharper. He has become destroyed by his own mad endeavors. When you don’t respond to his greeting, he continues to speak. “It’s been an eventful few years for you, huh?” When this doesn’t get a response from you, he stands up straight and backs up just a foot. “New job, new name… New husband.” Your head snaps up at that. “What? You think I haven’t been keeping tabs on you and the boy? What do you call him, then? Matthew or Daredevil?”

Your eyes grow wide, unsure how he knows about your husband’s secret hobby.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spit, your gaze hardening into a glare.

“Don’t I? You make quite the couple. The little deaf doe and her crime fighting blind husband.” He laughs, “And they say I like a project.”

“You won’t touch him or I swear to god—”

“Little doe, you misunderstand. I want nothing to do with your husband. I just want you to be the good subject I know you can be.” He tells you. “You and I are the only of our kind. I want to study you, replicate you.”

“You’re going to kidnap more people.”

“You weren’t kidnapped, you volunteered.”

“I won’t do whatever it is you want me to do.” You tell him. “I don’t care, I will escape, I will kill you.”

He shakes his head, taking one of the batons from the guards, before hitting you across the face with it. You groan in pain, turning your head back to glare at him. He sighs.

“I didn’t want to have to do this. But I did anticipate that Husband of yours interrupting things.” He hands the baton back to the guard before telling him. “Take her down the hall and get her ready, alright?”

You struggle your way down the hall, refusing to do whatever is coming to you without a fight. When the guards uncuff you to strap you to this big dentist looking chair, you manage to get out of the grasp of the guard, swinging a punch on him but this newfound advantage is short lived, as the other guard quickly grabs your arms and pushes you against the chair. You’re yelling and thrashing but they manage to get your arms and legs strapped down to the chair.

Your heartbeat is racing, and quietly, only in your mind, you beg. But not for mercy. Not from The Doctor. You beg Matt to come find you. Because you know that you do not stand a chance on your own, but maybe he could find you. He had to find you.

The Doctor sits in a chair next to you and holds up a small purple vial.

“This is hallucinogenic snake venom, mixed with a duller version of the serum we gave you. What this will do is allow me to go into your memories and alter them.” He explains as if you’re getting a simple procedure done. Tears fill your eyes.

“You’re going to make me forget him?” You ask, your voice breaking.

The Doctor hushes you softly, wiping your tears softly.

“Oh, no, little doe. I’m going to change what you do remember about him to make you hate him.”

• • •

Six months is a long time to be without your wife. For anyone, no matter who it is.

For Matt Murdock, it’s absolute torture. He spends all day half paying attention to his work while trying to research who The Doctor is. He spends all night trying to find you.

Frank lives, breathes, eats and sleeps to find you. He’s still technically a wanted man, so he pretty much stays under the radar as he looks for you. You remind him of a lot of guys he knew in the army, of himself.

Karen busies herself with research, looking through cases of old files at The Bulletin to try and see if there are any tips or stories that could maybe be connected to where you are. She gets about as little sleep as Matt.

And Foggy has the most important job of all.

Making sure Matt doesn’t kill himself in the process of trying to find you. Because for the first two months Matt didn’t sleep, hardly ate. And as he deteriorated, Foggy reminded him that to find you, he’d need to stay alive. He needs to shower, he needs to keep going to church, he needs to keep eating. The thought of hearing your heartbeat again keeps him going.

It’s as they’re packing up to go home one night that Frank comes into the office with blood-stained hands. They all know he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have something, so Karen asks first.

“What? What is it?”

“Buddy of mine found a file. Some private medicinal corporation funding a project for some sort of doctor doing cancer research, upstate.”

The location peaks Matt’s interest, because one of the few things he knows of your first experience is that the lab was in upstate New York.

“Okay, but—” Karen starts, but Frank hands her the file.

“Report shows the guy had scales.” He told her. “And I don’t know what you guys make of that but sounds to me like a side effect similar to the serum that was given to her.”

“Where?” Matt asks.

“Red, just—”

“Give me a god damn address, Frank.” He demands.

“I’ll drive you. Come on, things are probably gonna get wild and I don’t want you going alone.” He told him. Matt agrees, but only because he knows he can’t drive and would wind up walking to you.

“Then let’s go.” Before Frank can argue, Matt is walking out the door and going to get suited up for the journey ahead.

• • •

Daredevil is my enemy.

Matt Murdock hates me.

I hate him.

We were never really in love with each other.

These are the thoughts that echo through your mind as you wait for your next round of testing. The six-month mark is pivotal, The Doctor tells you time and time again.

Overall, you’ve made tremendous progress. He tells you that within weeks, other serums will be ready to test on new subjects. Maybe then, he tells you, he’ll promote you from just being a soldier.

Maybe.

You almost don’t hear the alarm going off somewhere in the distance. Of course, you don’t. The serum has never helped your hearing.

The way you remember it, Daredevil, a man who once claimed to love you, fought you to the point that he destroyed the nerves in your hands, destroyed your hearing. It’s fuzzy now, but you know this: The Doctor helped you. He put you back together.

But you do hear the alarm, eventually. It concerns you; it means someone has broken into the building. Your thoughts linger on the masked vigilante that haunts your nightmare. You’re getting stronger to defeat him, The Doctor says.

It’s a cool summer night when whoever it is broke in, breaks down your door. You immediately stand, quickly identifying Frank Castle, a grin breaking across your face. Closely behind, you identify a man in red.

Your heartbeat races, but you just stare at the pair.

Matt strips off his helmet and approaches you, wanting to make sure this was real. That you were real. His hands find your cheeks, and tears fill his eyes. He says your name gently.

“I found you, I’ve got you…”

You blink, unsure of what sort of cruel teasing that was.

Because in an instant, your glare hardens and you’re pushing him against a wall, starting to throw punches at him. He’s too far in shock to react, but Frank is pulling you off of him, and you’re struggling against him.

“Let me go! I need to kill him! He’s evil, he needs to die!” You cry, and Matt is just saying your name softly, in absolute disarray. What had they done to you, his sweet girl?

Frank pins you down to the ground, unsure of why you, a woman he had perceived to be so in love with the man behind him, are so adamant that he dies.

“Enough, Enough!” He barks, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at Matt. “That is your husband, girl. Stop acting like he’s torturing you when he is not the one whose been experimenting on you for six months!”

“Let me go, I need him gone! He’s cruel, He’s a monster!” You cry, and Matt has started crying. Putting you both out of your misery, Frank hits you in a way that knocks you right out. Matt goes over to your now unconscious form and pets your hair.

“Why was she—”

“I don’t know.. I just don’t know, red. Let’s get her out of here to figure it out, okay?” Matt just nods and grabs his helmet, slipping it on so Frank can’t see him crying anymore.

• • •

If you had a nickel for every time you woke up tied to a chair, you’d have more nickels than you had fingers.

Today is no different.

You’re surrounded by people you don’t recognize. And one you do. Your angry glare stays on him, and he looks upset by it.

You’re unsure why. You’re so sure he just wanted you dead.

The blonde woman in front of you says your name softly. When your gaze shifts to her, you notice her soft eyes.

“How do you know my name?” You ask.

She frowns.

“It—Because we’re good friends.”

“I don’t know you.”

“You don’t… My name is Karen.” She says softly. She goes over to a nearby shelf, pulling out a picture frame and showing it to you. “Here, that’s you and me. At your wedding.”

“My wedding? The one that he set up just to hurt me?”

Matt remembers you telling him that you had never been happier than when you were getting ready for your wedding.

There’s two other men, one held you down while you were meant to kill Matt, but the other one.. You vaguely remember him standing next to Matt when you got married.

He speaks next.

“Matt and Frank, they found these vials in one of the labs. We think the man that took you used it to... to alter your memories.”

“Why would The Doctor do that? He helped me.” You tell them, unsure what to make of this whole situation. Matt is growing extremely frustrated because he knows just how scared you were of that monster.

“Untie her.” Matt tells Frank, and everyone looks at him like he’s crazy. Including you because you know that you’ll just try and kill him. “Do it,” he tells him again and very hesitantly, Frank does untie you. When you’re free from the rope, you step forward to go towards Matt, but Frank grabs your arm.

“Don’t,” he says. But then, Matt reaches for Frank’s gun on the nearby table and hands it to you. Odd choice for a man you want to kill.

“Go ahead.” He tells you, facing you now. “Shoot me, kill me if that’s what you really want to do.” He says. You stare at the gun in your hand for a second, before holding it properly and aiming it at Matt. Everyone waits with bated breath to see what you’ll do.

Pull the trigger, you tell yourself, The Doctor’s voice echoing around your head. He hurt you, the voice says. He needs to die.

And yet, you just stare at the man on the other end of the gun, trying to build up the courage to kill him. To kill the man that for months you have been taught needs to die. That you have memories of hurting you, of maiming you.

Your hand tremors as tears fill your eyes, until you eventually drop your arm, so the gun isn’t pointing at him anymore.

“Look at the photo of you and Karen,” Matt tells you, “You have hearing aids in the photo. I didn’t do that to you, you got into a bad accident, you got sick and that’s how you lost your hearing. I had nothing to do with that. You even had your powers before me, you didn’t just get them in the past six months. The Doctor is an evil man who just wanted to torture people and turn them into science experiments.” He tells you, and you want to tell him to stop, that it’s not true. But something in you tells you not to. “I love you,” he says gently, and you flinch away from him when he says this.

It breaks his heart into a million pieces. Absolutely shatters it.

“I don’t know you.” You tell him.

Sensing that Matt doesn’t know what to say to that, Frank steps forward.

“Hey. I’m Frank, you remember me?”

“You pinned me down when you found me.” He sighs softly.

“Yeah, well.. You have memories of when the two of you got married, right? So those are real memories… What about the ones of him hurting you? Do they look any different?”

You take a moment to close your eyes and really focus on the memory you have so closely attached to the man in red. They’re.. Filmy. Like they have a filter on them or like glass shimmering in the sun.

Tears fall from your eyes as you open them, your hand quickly coming up to wipe your tears.

“I think we did enough for now.. She needs to rest.” The man whose name you don’t know, but he has this shaggy blonde hair. Then this question comes up in everyone’s mind—Where will you stay?

“I’ll take the couch,” Matt says, “You take the bed.” You don’t know how comfortable you are with being alone with Matt in this apartment, even if the memories are fake. They feel pretty real.

“I don’t know if—” Karen starts.

“I.. It’s fine..” you say softly, and that fills Matt with a fraction of hope. “It’s just over night.”

Frank sighs softly, taking his gun off the table and glancing at Matt.

“We’re only a phone call away, alright?” Karen tells him.

It feels sort of awkward that they only talk to him as if you can’t hear them. Well, you can’t hear them very well, but you can hear.

“There’s clothes for you in the bedroom,” Matt tells you, “Go take a shower and I’ll walk them to the door.” Very reluctant to turn your back on Matt, you make your way to the bedroom to gather your clothes and go to shower.

You really haven’t had a good shower in six months, so it’s nice to wash the dirt off your skin and from beneath your fingernails. You spend a long time under the hot shower, letting it burn your skin. Your whole life has been turned upside down because you’re slowly coming to terms with the fact that Matt Murdock isn’t your sworn enemy, and that maybe.. he just.. does like you..

Meanwhile, Matt walks the others out, or at least to the door, hesitant to go too far from you.

Foggy glances back to him before he leaves, curiously.

“How did you know she wouldn’t shoot you?”

He hesitates.

“I didn’t.” he says softly. “I just trusted that somewhere within her, my wife still loves me.”

• • •

Later that night, you stare out the window of his apartment at that bright billboard. You gaze at it curiously, and hear Matt call your name gently behind you. In his hands, he holds your hearing aids.

You put them on, and just look at him for a few minutes.

“You kept them?”

“I never stopped looking for you..” He told you. “I prayed every night hoping to hear your heartbeat again.” He tells you, and you don’t know what to make of it. He seems so devoted to you, yet you have these memories of him beating you until you’re close to death.

“I’m sorry I can’t be in love with you the way you want me to be.”

He shrugs gently.

“In sickness and in health, right?”

“And in torture and memory alteration.”

“Same thing.”

For the first time in six months, you smile.

Maybe your husband isn’t such a bad guy.

You can only hope he’ll love you long enough for you to get your shit together and not want to kill him anymore.

• • •

Memories are a tricky thing.

You decide to spend your days with Frank, hunting down various people who worked with The Doctor. You talk a lot about your memories with him. And no matter what, at the end of the day, you have dinner with Matt.

One night, he brings home Thai Food.

“We had this for our first date,” he recalls. “You got pad Thai, your favorite.” You try to recall the memory.

“You wore a nice blue button up, right?” You say softly. He smiles gently and nods.

“Yeah. I did.” He says gently.

“Can..” You hesitate. “Can you tell me more about it? Our life together? I can’t.. discern between what’s real and fabricated.” You’re making new memories, sure, but you know he misses the life the two of you had together.

But he’s caught off guard by your request. For the past few weeks, you’ve been hesitant to indulge in any memories you think might be real.

“You used to work for me.” He tells you. “Not in a weird way, but our office is small. We fell in love over Thai food and opening statements.”

“Why did you want to marry me?”

He hesitates for a second, not wanting to scare you off.

“Because I love you.” He tells you. “Because when you were with me, it was the closest thing I’d ever knew to peace.” He confesses.

“Oh..”

“Yeah.” He takes another bite of his food. “You know if you have a memory and you don’t know if it’s real, you can always ask.”

You smile softly.

“Thanks.” There’s a soft silence that fills the room before you ask, “I have this memory of us in bed, with you running your hand through my hair.. Your fingers tracing these antlers I have.. Is that real?”

“Yeah, it is..” He promised. “I have a thing about textures and your hair is soft.”

“I’m glad.” You smile. This is nice. This gentleness that’s between you. It’s a softness you aren’t used to, one that you don’t know if you’d ever quite get used to.

Later that night, when you were meant to be fast asleep, you wake up with a startling gasp in bed. You look around panicked. You don’t quite know who you’re looking for..

Until Matt comes into the room, a concerned look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and this calmness washes over you.

“Yeah..”

“Okay. Okay, good, I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” He says softly. He’s been so good to you, sleeping on the couch for so many weeks. He goes to leave, but you call out to him. He turns back to you.

“Can you stay with me?” You ask.

“Yeah, of course.” He says softly, climbing into bed with you. You think for a second, before shifting a bit, resting your head against his chest. You listen to the gentle thud of his heartbeat, as his hand finds your back, gently rubbing up and down. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He isn’t dumb—He knows you have nightmares. And that on the nights that you do, you’re quieter and more avoidant of him. It’s a bad habit, one you want to break. Because you recognize that your dreams aren’t real.

Matt has never done anything to you, and you’re sure of this.. For the most part. Sometimes when you wake up, you must reorient yourself and remind yourself that Matt has no malicious intent towards you and no reason to hurt you.

But it takes you a few minutes to accomplish this. On those mornings, you tend to keep your distance from him, and because Matt wants nothing but your happiness, he stays away from you. But tea is always placed in front of you, and he never strays far from you.

“Not really.” You finally answer. There’s another beat of silence. “We went as the couple from The Princess Bride for our first Halloween together.. Real or not real?”

“Real.” He confirms.

“You broke my nose once during an argument. Real or not real?”

“Not real.” He tells you. “I would never hurt you. Even when we used to fight at the gym, it was always for practice, never to do actual damage. And when we would spar, it would always end with us going home and taking a hot bath.”

You close your eyes, trying to recall that particular memory. When you find it, your face flushes with this unfamiliar heat.

“You’re still trying to protect me even though I wanted you dead... Real or not real?”

“Real.” He doesn’t even hesitate. He’s not sure if you’ve realized it yet, but he’d rather die than put you anywhere close to being in danger. His hand continues to trace patterns into your skin, as you think about his response.

You fall asleep like this, close to the man who you’re realizing has never intended to hurt you a day in your life.

• • •

The day you realize you’re in love with your husband is horrifying.

Which seems like a crazy accusation to make, and yet, you feel nothing but horror when you realize that you are desperate for him. Which is insane, because you’ve been living with him for two months when you realize you are desperate to kiss him like you’re drowning and need air.

It happens at the office. You decided to cook, because you remember really liking it, and to say thank you for all he’s done for you, you want to bring lunch to Matt at work. So you make this really delicious chicken pesto pasta, and you pick up sodas to go along with it. Matt gets the following text:

‘Your favorite soda is Dr. Pepper. Real or not real?’

Five minutes later, you get a response.

‘Real. Yours is sprite.’

You pick up a bottle of each and head over to his office. You’ve been there a few times before, but mostly it was because Frank needed to talk to Karen about something, but lately you’ve found yourself wanting to go to the office just to see Matt.

Matt is surprised when he hears the familiar beat of your heart on the other side of the door. He can also hear the slight buzz of your hearing aids.

“Sweetheart, you can come in.” He calls, but you hesitate even further. Not because you’re confused as to why he knows it’s you, but because your brain sort of short circuits when he calls you the pet name. But after a few minutes, you walk into the room and place lunch on his desk, as well with your drinks.

“Do you like pesto?”

“We had pesto pasta at our wedding.” Oh.

“So you do?”

“Yeah, I do. Especially the way you make it.”

“Oh, good.” You smile and sit at the chair on the other side of the desk. “Because I made chicken pesto pasta for lunch and figured you might want some.”

“Well, thank you for thinking of me.”

There’s a quiet calm between the two of you.

“This is a pretty killer first date, huh?” This makes Matt laugh, because in his mind, your first date was eating Thai food and listening to music. But this isn’t bad either.

“Well, Chivalry must be dead then, because I didn’t even buy you flowers.” He hums, and you tilt your head.

“I don’t remember you ever buying me flowers.” He frowns at this.

“Well, I’m going to have to fix that.”

And that’s how the afternoon goes. You sit with Matt in his office, eating a homemade chicken pasta and falling in love with him. As you go to leave, he asks you what you have planned for the day.

“I have some errands to run, but I should be home to make dinner.” And for a moment, Matt forgets all that’s happened, and he lets himself believe that you have all your memories of him perfectly intact and no one’s ever made you think otherwise.

You get back to the apartment a few hours later, and just as you’re unpacking your groceries, there’s a knock at the door. When you open it, a delivery man stands with a bouquet of flowers. Your face is warm as you sign off on them.

As you put them in their vase, you notice a note attached to it. You catch yourself grinning as you read his little note, that reads ‘I’ll buy you flowers until I’m old and wrinkly. Real.’

The urge to run back to the office and kiss him overwhelms you.

So you call Frank.

This leads to the pair of you, sitting at a booth in a diner, nursing coffees and toast.

“I hope you didn’t call me here just to complain about married life.” He tells you, making a joke out of the thing that terrifies you.

“No, I just wanted you to sit here talking to a chick with antlers so you can look like more of a freak than you already are.” You tease.

It gets you both laughing. These moments, in between all the nightmares and all of the filmy memories, fill you with a light you can’t quite describe.

“So, why’d you really call me to meet up?” He asks. “I have to assume you don’t just want to chitchat.”

“I think I’m in love with Matt.” You tell him. He raises an eyebrow.

“What? Why does that sound like you think it’s a problem?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” You confess. “It’s like I don’t want to love him, like a part of me still believes he’s the bad guy. I know he does.. Besides, I was so awful to him for so long. I pointed a gun at him and he still comforts me every night. What if I don’t deserve this?” You ask. “What if I don’t deserve him?”

Frank actually laughs—Okay, not like a giggle or a belly laugh, but it gets a good chuckle out of him.

“You and Red with that shit—Questioning if you’ve done enough for something good to happen to you. With the ‘Do I deserve this?’ and the ‘Am I worthy of this?” He shakes his head. “All that shit is irrelevant. Do you want it? Do you want to be with him?”

Tears fill your eyes as you realize what that means.

“You and him, you love each other like breathing, and I know you don’t quite get that yet, but it’s the same reason you didn’t shoot him that day. Something in you knows that you love him and deserve his love.” Frank is speaking from experience, because he knows that no matter what he’s done, he knows he deserves one more kiss from his wife.

But he’ll never get that chance.

He hopes Matt does.

• • •

It takes you a long time to make your way back to the apartment. When you get there, Matt immediately stands from his place on the couch and has this look of concern etched across his face.

“Is everything okay?” he asks gently, “Your heart is racing, I just want to make sure you’re safe and—"

“I’m fine.” You smile gently. “Really, I… Thank you for the flowers.” You tell him. His face softens.

“You like them?”

“I love them, Matt.” You confess. “I’ve spent.. So long trying to rationalize everything, sort out the real things from the things that aren’t..” You’re not too sure what you’re trying to say. “I just.. I want.. I want to try. I want to try and be with you, I’m ready for that. I’m ready to be happy with you..”

He hesitates. Not because he doesn’t want to, because he doesn’t want you, but he is worried that you’re only saying these things because you feel like you might owe him. You don’t. You don’t owe him anything other than what you want to give him, and he is desperate for you to know that.

“Sweetheart, You don’t.. I don’t need.. I don’t need you to pretend like you want me just because I’ve taken care of you. It’s more than enough to just—”

Matt is cut off by his first kiss from you in eight months. Your hands rest on the sides of his cheeks, and his arms are quickly around your torso. The kiss is passionate but soft at first—Until you push deeper, desperate to be as close as you can to him. Your hand even comes up to pull off his glasses to see his eyes.

Without thinking, you pull away from him only for your hand to come down to the hem of his shirt, going to pull it off.

“Off, off, off, off—” You softly request, and he just laughs, taking your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“Stop. Wait.” He says gently. “I just.. I want to make sure you actually want this.. That you really want me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’ve been reserved for the past two months, rightfully so, but now you want to sleep with me.. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. Or something you do just because you feel lonely or bad that I—” You cut him off with another kiss, breaking it shortly after.

“I want you. I want to rebuild my life with you. I want to create new, untainted memories.. It won’t be easy, but I want to be with you.” You confess. “I want countless summer nights, I want you to be there for all the nightmares, I.. I want to give you the same peace you’ve been trying to give me.”

You’re both crying and you don’t quite know why. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gold band. He slips it onto your fingers and kisses you again. He holds the hand with your wedding ring on it as he leads you into the bedroom. Into your life together. Into your arms. Where you were meant to be.

The next morning, you lay in the quiet of your apartment, the silk sheets tickling your skin. You focus on Matt’s breathing. He traces patterns into your skin.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, and he takes a moment to answer.

“You.” He says gently. “You’re all I’ve been thinking about for three years.” He says gently. Then, when you don’t say anything, “Our anniversary was two months ago..” You know he misses the life you could have had together.

The life that he had planned out for the pair of you in his head. The life that oh so quietly, he longs for. The one without nightmares, supplemented by the laughter of any potential children you might have.

“I could get used to thinking about you, too, you know.” And it makes him laugh, as you lean up and bite his shoulder gently, before placing a kiss to that same patch of skin. He swats your arm gently before the pair of you break down into giggles.

“In the future, if you ever.. don’t want to do that, you don’t have to.”

“I know.” You tell him.

A comfortable silence fills the air again.

“I’m so happy you came back to me.” He says gently. “I was.. I spent so long worried that.. that we’d spend years just trying to find our footing again. That you wouldn’t get better..” For the second time tonight, you cut off his overthinking with a kiss.

“I love you.” You tell him when you’re finally ready to pull away. The morning light shines into the apartment, giving Matt this glowing effect. He practically shimmers in the golden light, and you just take a moment to commit the look of him to memory.

You try and take your time, studying him. He’s so beautiful this time of day.

“Real or not real?” He asks you softly, as one hand snakes up to your hair, his fingers gently running through it.

You lean forward and place a soft kiss to his lips.

“Real.”

[importantgalaxyrunaway]

Unexpected visitor (Matt Murdock x reader)

note: WHEN I SAY THUS TOOK FOREVER I MEAN IT ITS FINALLY DONE

warning ⚠️: injuries, Matt in pain, mentioned kidnapping, amazing reader, fluff and angst, a bit long

(takes place in season one) Crash! I hear my plants pot fall and the pictures on the wall shattered. I jolt awake at the noise. What could cause that noise in Hell’s Kitchen at 3 am? Only one answer a robber. Stupid! I’m so stupid! I had left the fire escape window open to temp in some cool air on this summer’s night. Well it had worked my apartment was filled with the crisp night air and all its smells. However I should no by now to not leave my window open during the night in Hell’s Kitchen. But the place was so hot and muggy I couldn’t stand it. I tentatively creep out of the comfort of my bedroom. I grab a book as a makeshift weapon incase I need it. I cross to the living space and with all the courage I could muster flipping the light switch on. And nothing could have prepared me for this sight…..

The devil on Hell’s Kitchen was bleeding out in my living room. Gasping desperately for air his blood seeping into the carpet.

now you had heard tales of the man in the mask, many tales in face from the news. They say he’s a terrioist that he blew up those buildings and shot those cops. Personally I didn’t believe that, he was the devil the city needed. Police don’t do anything there all in someone’s pocket though I don’t know exactly who yet. When my little sister got kidnapped by human traffickers we did everything we could with the police. We filed for a missing person and searched and searched but they said that there is nothing they could do. We knew that wasn’t true. They could have done something! They could have helped her! But nobody helped her nobody but the devil. She showed up at our doorstep one night saying that she had been saved by a man with a mask covering his eyes. In a dark suit but she had said that he had beat up her kidnappers and left her unscathed he had saved my sister. The man in the mask, the devil of Hell’s Kitchen, bleeding out on your carpet.

(third person-ish)

She rushed to his side kneeling down next to him, not caring about the bloody situation. She was a nurse after all. There was a long gash across his side it was so deep you could see the bone. “n-no hospitals”

the mystery man croaks out. Well at least you knew he was still conscious and you had no time to argue.You put pressure on the wound to stop it from bleeding out at first. He let out a sudden cry of pain that broke your heart. Even though you didn’t fully know him yet you feel somehow responsible for him and to care for him he had saved your sister afterall. You gently pulled off his mask to see whose life you were saving to see who you were saving and exactly how bad the damage was. A gasp leaves your mouth. His face was nothing as you had expected. He had chestnut brown fluffy hair, his beautiful hazel eyes were….unsighted?

was he blind? He looks almost…angelic

his face though covered in blood struck you with how beautiful it was. It wasn’t intimidating as it was with the mask on. As scary he was with it on beating up criminals it surprised you how vulnerable he looked. Covered in blood and confused sightless eyes darting around as you gently lifted his eyes up. (Like in the gif) he looked almost like a puppy who’s been kicked to many times. Your heartbeat quickened a considerable amount and you saw him slightly tilt his head to the side and groans at the movement.

“Don’t move” you hushed in a gentle tone. “This is going to hurt a lot but I need to clean the wound”

you unscrew the rubbing alcohol and wet the gauze with the substance a considerable amount. He grits his teeth in anticipation. I started cleaning the wound pouring more rubbing alcohol, he lets out an agonized scream. His back arches off the floor slightly in pain abs flexing. You then start the process of stitches….

——/

“shh shh” you soothe him as soon as your done. Caressing his face and brushing his hair out of his face a thin layer of cold sweat had come over his body. His hair had stuck to his forehead and you pushed it back away. He leaned into your touch like a man starved, savoring the feeling.

how long has it been since he’s been touched like this? It must have been ages. Hes so much more beautiful than I could have imagined

“it’s over now. It’s over it’s ok, “ you keep stroking his face.

he looks up at you with desperation in his eyes. “T-thank you.”

He manages with a quivering voice. But even so you can tell he’s very grateful. You scratch his chin lightly and he hums in pleasure.

“your so brave, you risk your life saving our city. Take so much pain. No one forced you to do that. Your so brave—“

“Matthew” he tries to prop himself up on his elbows but instead cries out in pain “or Matt” he chuckles bitterly clutching his side.

“y/n l/n” you say pleased to know the strangers name, it was a show of trust. “And than answers my next question of weither you can stand” you put your hand on your hips still kneeling at his side looking at this beautiful man. His eyes shut in pain.

“Matthew” you cooed in a voice and sweet as honey. In Matt’s mind the sugary voice engulfed him for hours in his pained state it was like a line in a storm. His eyelids fluttered open. She stroked his hair and went down to scratch his slightly bloody stubble. He let out a small moan almost unable to hear it but it was there. He leaned into her touch placing his weight of his head on your hand. You keep scratching his stubble as you ask your next question. “Are you blind Matthew?” You ask tentatively not knowing if it’s a touchy subject.

”yes i am” he breathes out

poor thing he must be in so much pain

“how are you fighting then?” You still couldn’t wrap your head around it.

“there are other ways to see” he smirks but the little gesture even seems to take energy out of him.

“Well who did this to you?” You put your hands on your hips. He doesn’t answer his eyes are screwed shut. Then suddenly his body goes limp and his head falls back on the pillow. “Matthew! Matt?” You quickly check his pulse and breathe a sigh of relief. He wasn’t dead. He must have passed out from the pain. You get off your knees and stand up. He didn’t deserve this. None of this. He’s helping people. And he certainly doesn’t deserve to be on your couch if you were in that much pain you’d know that you would want to atleast be on a bed. So with determination you start to carry his body. You struggle to get him off the couch a bit but eventually you scoop him up, and half carry half drag him to your bedroom. Normally having a man this attractive in your bedroom would be a good thing but you can hardly celebrate how much pain he’s in. You hoist him up onto the bed pushing his feet on. Carefully taking his boots off and setting them on the ground. Then tucking him in with your softest blankets and comforter. You’ll sleep on the couch Tonight he deserves this bed more than you. Thinking about anything else he need you set a glass of water on the nightstand.

I’ll tend to his other needs in the morning

you think before taking a blanket and pillow and retiring to the couch for the night.

——-

when Matt wakes up he is immediately aware of a few things. He’s tucked in to a soft bed with a comforter. The scent of something cooking fills the air. And there is an awful throbbing pain in his side. He feels so warm he doesn’t want to leave. He can’t put his finger on it but he feels like he’s being comforted, like he’s safe, like someone took care of him. He opens his eyes just for convenience not to see obviously and hones his senses in. Hes on a bed not his own he knows he doesn’t have a comforter this soft and fluffy. Tentatively he touches his side, it’s stitched up neatly and cleaned it doesn’t seem to be infected. Then a collage of scent hit his nose. Pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, breakfast potatoes and orange juice. He blinks rubbing his face to see if he smelled that right, sometimes when he’s hurt his senses don’t work as intended. But he did. He sits up with a wince to his side. And a woman’s form hurries to him from the kitchen and sets down a tray on the side table

“Jesus woman, your an angel” he says rubbing his side

“didn’t know what to make” plus you stress cook a lot “would do that if I were you, could irritate the wound”

“You saw my face that, you shouldn’t have—” he says stopping rubbing his side

“should I have let you die!? No. Eat.” You firmly say, basically an order. Pushing the food towards him and he scarfs it down. Matt didn’t realize how hungry he was. Many time more than often he forgets how to take care of himself. You eat your plate of food alongside him.

her food is heavenly. Matt thought. He doesn’t even remember the last time he’s had a home cooked meal like this. Finally you break the silence after your both done eating

“I didn’t expect you to be blind. Going around fighting criminals blindly. That either means you’re very brave or very foolish.” You state matter of factly

he gives a devilish smirk “do I have to pick one?”

you chuckled and your heart fluttered a little bit, for a man who had been bleeding out last night he was surprisingly charming

“I like you already Matt”

the day goes on as you let him stay there and insist he rests. The both of you talk not about his personal life of course, he’s so mysterious he won’t let you know anything else. He says that he’s already made a mistake telling you his name and blames his bloody delirious state for that. But at the end of the day he’s well enough to be upright and as soon as that happens he wants to go.

“I don’t want to endanger you angel” he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve already been to much of burder” though the touch was relatively friendly it feels electric, your heart beats incredibly fast.

“you help a lot of people, if you ever need a nurse again or just want to visit don’t be afraid to slip in” she chuckles a bit, trying to make lightheartedness even though it felt like your heart was beating out of you chest. strangely, he tilts his head to the side as you do so but he decides to not comment, strangely you get the feeling he somehow Knows how attractive you think he is. Before putting on his mask that cover his eyes he steps towards you and puts his hand under your chin.

“I hope one day we can meet up without me being hurt” he says with a slight humor. Then he leans in and kisses me. I waste absolutely no time in reciprocating. His plump pretty lips move against mine in tandem easily his tongue traces my bottom lip asking for permission and I let it slip in moaning as he does so. There is no question of Matthew Murdocks experience finally he pulls away and you know he has somewhere to go

his tongue darts out to lick his lips he feels the taste of your lips on it but the action looks like it’s second nature. “I have to go” he puts on his mask and now he’s fully in his “man in black” “devil of Hell’s Kitchen” getup. “I’ll be back…eventually” and he opens the window and slips through the window sill and onto the fire escape and into the now; night. When he slipped through the window sill and bent over you had seen just a little of his back as his too tight shirt rose up. The sight and thought alone made you shiver with arousal. And then mysterious man went into the night

[sageispunk]

Kinktober 2023

inspired from @flightlessangelwings promptlist <333

banner by @the-purity-pen !!!

this is my first kinktober so i hope it goes as planned, each fic will have it's own individual warnings so be sure to read through those (and my blog guidelines) before proceeding!! if you enjoy any of these, please like and reblog!!! my masterlist is here :3 (**- missed but will come back to)

DAY 1: love bites + overstim + impact play 

DAY 2: bath/shower

DAY 3: exhibitionism (joel miller x reader)

DAY 4: sex pollen + thigh riding + forced orgasm (max phillips x reader)

DAY 5: table sex + sensory deprivation + threesome (steve rodgers/bucky barnes x reader)

DAY 6: sexting/phone sex (matt murdock x reader)

DAY 7: slow and soft + spanking (javier peña x reader) **

DAY 8: temp play (joel miller x reader)

DAY 9: pegging (frankie morales x reader)

DAY 10: stripping + anal + double penetration (frankie morales/santi garcia x reader) **

DAY 11: seduction + blindfold (tommy miller x reader) **

DAY 12: gun play (joel miller x reader)

DAY 13: body worship + being recorded (frank castle x reader) **

DAY 14: tit/nipple play (benny miller x reader)

Week Two -- updated the list (10/14) to make it a lil easier for me

DAY 15: against wall + size kink + free use (richie j x reader)

DAY 17: praise kink + rimming (dieter bravo x reader)

DAY 18: masturbation + squirting (joel miller x reader)

DAY 19: voyeurism + handjob + somno (santiago garcia x reader)

DAY 21: hate sex + piercings (bucky barnes x reader)

Week Three

DAY 23: dirty talk + begging (javi pena x reader)

DAY 24: lingerie + edging (dieter bravo x reader)

DAY 25: mirror sex + breeding (sam wilson x reader)

DAY 26: face sitting + deepthroating + choking (richie j x reader)

DAY 28: intercrural sex + blowjobs (tommy miller x reader)

Week Four

DAY 29: fingering + gagging + creampie (frank castle x reader)

DAY 30: cunnilingus + breathplay (santiago garcia x reader)

DAY 31: FREE SPACE (will be updated hehe 😉)

[thebisexualdogdad]

John Constantine x male!reader x Zatanna Zatara headcanons

*Matt Ryan as Constantine and Jade Tailor as Zatanna*

● 3 magicians/occultists sure make for a hell of an interesting relationship

● traveling around the world keeping the paranormal and supernatural at bay

● and always enjoying a good drink at the end of the day

● or before noon if it's just that kind of day

● which it often is because exorcisms can take a lot out of you

● going to Zatanna's magic shows and proudly cheering her on from the front row

● and always volunteering yourselves when she asks for audience participation

● John still gets a kick whenever she cuts him half

● when you or John annoy Zatanna she just casually drops a spell to turn you guys into rabbits

● "what did we do this time??"

● "you guys ate my leftovers again that I clearly labeled were mine!"

● Zatanna also has to stop you and John from doing stupid shit like when you drunkenly dare each other to try on doctor fates helmet

● "come on Z we weren't really gonna do it… again"

● Zatanna is extremely protective of her boys

● you've seen a lot of scary demons in your day but none are more terrifying than Zatanna when you or John are in danger

● John taking you and Zatanna to punk shows

● Zatanna pushing John into a mosh pit as a joke but he actually had a blast

● "bloody hell loves did you see that! That was awesome!!"

● stealing John's trench coat to mess with him

● "I would be mad because no one touches my coat but damn do you look good in it"

● and then one time you did a spell to swap John's and Zatannas outfit

● John was loving it "I mean it's a little tight on the boys but my ass sure looks good" he says as he's proudly checking himself out

● you've been banned from pretty much every movie theater because of John talking during the movie

● "he's the killer it's so obvious" he says as he throws popcorn at the screen

● "how can I be disturbing the other guests when this movie is bloody garbage!" He yells as you three are being escorted out by the usher

● it's not uncommon for one of you to find your partners surrounded by old books

● "what are we dealing with this time?"

● "not sure yet but in the last month there's been four mysterious deaths in Louisiana that we need to go check out"

● "I'll call Abby to see if she and alec can meet up with us, maybe they've heard something"

● "not that bloke again, he smells like a damn swamp"

● "John..."

● taking turns on who gets to be in the middle when you sleep

● but John always has to be the little spoon

● he refuses to be anything but the little spoon especially after sex

● and damn is the sex good

● using spells to make sex last all night long

● along with magically enhanced sex toys

● like self binding scarves

● magical wax that alternates between being hot and cold for the ultimate temp play

● or John being able to feel you inside him while you're fucking Zatanna

● Zatanna chanting spells that makes your bed float into the air

● you and John are sure to keep Zatanna thoroughly satisfied

● and Zatanna knows her way around a strap whenever she's in the mood to top you two

● John loves it when he gets a good pounding from both you and Zatanna

● and he will happily take one of you in his mouth while the other rails his ass

● lots of adrenaline filled sex after jobs go wrong and one of you nearly dies

● and pulling over to the side of the road to have sex in your car mid road trip to your next job after two of you have been fooling around in the backseat or one of you teasing the driver from the passenger seat

● so much sex around your magical safehouse in Atlanta

● which occasionally results in the unleashing of evil spirits when you accidentally knock over an mystical artifact

● "Oh that could have been really bad"

● "yeah we really dodged a bullet there but can you get back to going down on me now"

[thesalemwitchtries]

Dreaming Of a Grave: Chapter Five

Word Count: 3,534

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Named! Fem! Enhanced! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Child medical experimentation and cruelty (heavy on this one), sensory deprivation as a means of harm and control, child death (vague-ish but there's a lot of them), forced isolation, feelings of isolation and hopelessness, mentions of injury and healthcare bias, and canon show events

Taglist: @reblog-reblog666

Masterlist

Thank you so much for reading! Any comments or feedback are much appreciated!

Crate Six was a horrific, but not altogether lonely place to grow up. How could she be lonely? Her small hands could fit through the wire of the cage and cling to Four’s beside her. On the other side was Eight, who spit and thrashed and snarled at everyone who passed by. She spent most of her time there, watching people pass with apathetic eyes, staring down at whichever specimen they had come to collect, she was never alone, and so: never lonely.

Mostly it was just waiting, for the people to come and prod at her, for them to leave, for the day when they’d roll the crate away, through the double doors at the opposite end of the hall, like they had for the previous Fours and Eights, like they probably had for the Six that came before her.

The Workshop had several security and protocol measures in place to prevent riot or escape. To limit any chance of mutiny or allowing them to out-number the research staff, specimens were kept in the long central hall, each team studying only one live specimen at a time. This inspired a quick turnover in those who weren’t progressing as hoped, and allowed for very limited interaction beyond those on either side of their crate.

If they were to escape, they would have to do it alone, and lab protocol ensured that subjects would have very little means of surviving on their own.

Specimens were fed only through an IV and with bland, uniform nutrient bars, unable to identify viable food sources of their own. They had geotags implanted in the base of their neck, and were allowed to move on their own only for the purpose of an experiment, keeping them monitored and weak. They wore thin hospital gowns and no shoes, adequate for the temp-controlled lab, but fatal in the scrub woods beyond the Workshop’s walls. 

Still, there was always the worry of exposure, that one specimen clever enough to escape may also be lucky enough to run into someone beyond their ironclad NDAs and explain what had happened to them. Best case, the specimen disappears, worst case, they return with a news crew or god forbid, law enforcement.

Researchers began looking for ways to stop potential leaks at the source, but almost every specimen they received was old enough to know the word help, and tongue extraction could hinder the ability to get necessary feedback from experiment subjects. Any solution that completely eradicated speech was out of the question.

Team Six was inspired to develop their solution when they received a young subject that had an extremely limited vocabulary upon arrival. After the typical entry rounds of behavior modification, she was fitted with Earmuffs.

They worked in two parts, one was a standard inner ear plug that branched out and connected to a larger disc that covered the shell of her ears, passively muffling the outer world, but not eliminating the sense of sound. The second part, was an internal transmitter and speakers, active noise canceling that could deafen someone to a jet launching beside them, all connected to a remote that allowed the silencing to be toggled on and off.

Earmuffs were then fitted with a bio-grade adhesive that lasted weeks before needing to be replaced, and upon installation, they had complete control over an entire human sense.

Six was an ideal specimen: one who could not complain or whine, one who could not ask for help. Without speech she could build little identity, only a shallow understanding of the world around her and her place in it. Isolated in static, contained within an approved lexicon: no, yes, bad, good, stop, start, up, down, left, right, more, less, is, was, then, now.

The system wasn’t without flaw, unable to tamp down the specimen’s instinctual desire to communicate.

So eager to learn was she that every new sound Six heard received a warped echo, a tentative attempt to understand. Automatic doors made a whoosh and so did she, someone clicked their pen and she’d do the same, the following huffs of frustration mimicked as well.

Perhaps the largest threat to Six’s verbal isolation was Four.

He’d been the most successful specimen created by the Four team, and lived in the crate neighboring hers for much longer than any of the others. They’d developed a method during years of late nights and long days in-between labs, practiced only in the most secret of moments.

When all the orderlies were gone and the others slept, Four would press the tips of her fingers to his throat and speak. Watching his mouth move, memorizing the vibrations of his voice, and then pressing fingers to her own throat and trying it for herself. Their soft whispers repeating into the night, the subtle back and forth of a pick inside a locked door.

Her first unsanctioned word took the longest, less trial and more error before Four’s efforts began to make any steady progress. Until finally, Six was able to croak out the word he’d been so desperate to teach her: ‘Lee-yawn.’ 

Years later, it would be that bright grin, round cheeks squishing into deep creases around his eyes, that she would think of when she missed Leon most. One untouchable moment.

Other words came next, her progress made slow by the constant stream of visitors in the hall; orderlies making rounds, researchers checking on their specimen, administration monitoring progress.

Sister, want, outside, see, sky, free, safe, away, each time she learned a new word he would shake their entwined fingers and give her that same smile.

Four’s secret lessons could only do so much with their limited learning time and a small vocabulary of his own.

If the orderlies saw, one or both of them would be taken through the No-Back doors, a threat that Six didn’t need words to understand. Every specimen taken through those doors was wheeled down the hall, orderlies banging on cages to get everyone’s attention. If you were Bad, you got a Lesson so that you’d be Good again.

The doors are for when you become Useless, a word that an intern had taught Six as both encouragement and threat.

Six had seen many Useless specimens roll by her, from the far side of the hall past Eight. Most of them she’d never seen before, beyond that first and last time.

When she was smaller there’d been an endless cycle of crates beside her, the Five project had discontinued before she arrived, and in their place were many short-lived Fours. On her other side there were Sevens, until a few weeks before Leon arrived, when the limp and blistered form of Last-Seven was rolled past her crate.

Six was taught the word Trash that day, and there were no more Sevens after him, the space to her left was filled with an Eight that bit at their own arms. Without verbal definition, Six understood that a Useless specimen went through those doors and somehow stopped being anything at all. 

Ever present was the idea that she was about to be made Trash, so much that she slept with one hand pressed to the wall and another to the floor, so she’d be awake when they came for her. An endless fear that she was deliberately unable to name. Her life was limited, structured to rob her of control, of even the very concept of it.

Crate Six was a fixed point that the world operated around; she didn’t come or go so much as she was brought, she didn’t do so much as she was instructed. All she had was long periods of waiting: for someone to fetch her from the crate, for the testing to begin, for it to end, for her next Meal, next Bath, next Lesson.

Chaos interspersed with the relative bliss of staring out through wire bars. 

It never once occurred to Six to wish for anything, all she knew was the way things were Now, and waiting for whatever was Next. Once they took Leon away, in the horrible way that they did, she understood wishing.

She wished that she could have him back, that she could have a name, that this waiting could finally end; even if that meant being Useless.

After Leon, there was nothing but the static that wrapped around her head. On her left Eight stopped clawing and thrashing, but kept spitting. Team Four had completed their work, and the comfort of Leon’s hand was replaced with Three, big enough that his spine and limbs pressed against the cage no matter how he laid. 

She’d tried, once, to ease him as he cried by running her fingers over the skin of his arm, but he writhed in what seemed like agony and there was no more trying.

Instead, she rested in a cocoon of apathy, letting things be the way that they were, not resisting when they made her sync or gave her the Bad medicine. Knees tucked to her chest, she buried her head down, keeping one hand on the floor by her feet and the other on the wall.

She grew bigger and more isolated, but never alone, and so at least not lonely.

There were years in that hallway, spent in a crate that she now understood had been made to hold dogs. Years spent outside after, scared and free, until the day she read her first road sign and decided to stay somewhere for more than one restless night.

“Welcome to Charlotte, North Carolina”

That was when the loneliness came, when she had finally learned to read, write, and speak. There were so many things balancing on her tongue, and no one that she could share them with. She could make friends, but there was a trench between her and all the people walking on city streets.

If she looked hard enough, Charlie imagined the trench might look like a long laboratory hallway. Cold, sterile, and existing in only her memory. 

Loneliness was in giving herself a name, and introducing herself to people that nodded politely, and didn’t understand how important having a name was.

Charlotte wanted to get a toothy smile, eyes squinted shut in happiness, wanted to introduce herself to one person more than anyone. But he was gone, and she wasn’t sure how to move on from the wanting.

After Karen’s visit, Charlotte felt crowded in her apartment, in her mind, so she dug out the Earmuffs that she’d reinvented, and sank into the relief of turning off the world when she wanted to.

A cup of tea and spending the night bent over some circuit boards was what she needed— to hell with the inevitable crick in her neck.

Igor had been the first thing that she made at her beloved workbench; the welded monstrosity of scrap metal that balanced across drawer units and wooden trestles. At first he’d been solely a digital companion, a program she’d built so that she’d feel less lonely as she traveled, someone that would listen to what she confided, the things she could never tell others. Then she moved into this place, her own perfect corner of Hell’s Kitchen, with just a few boxes of things and a mattress. 

Her refurbished laptop and meager spread of components soon built into a wishlist and plans. Late nights were spent hunched over the floor, schematics taped up across almost every flat surface in the place. Drawing, re-starting, scrapping that and re-starting again, all while she gathered the tools and parts that she’d need.

The last few days before he was completed were a sleepless blur in her memory, barely managing to hold on until the first blink of his OLED eyes. Even five years later her heart nearly burst with pride at the memory.

She made Igor so that she wouldn’t be lonely, to help her take care of herself when she’d never been taught how. Triage was what she built when her life was too constricting, when the world felt too cramped and evil to manage. When she missed Leon.

His mutation had been special, a gift to more than just himself. Charlotte could hoard all the money in the world in a blink, could destroy entire power grids on a whim, could do things irredeemably worse if she wanted. A career in villainy wasn’t on her horizon though, and not just because she’d be caught and exposed in a heartbeat. She tried not to even think of SHIELD, too afraid that they had some secret mind-scanning device looking for freaks to recruit. The Avengers were something to gawk at, to admire or fear. That wasn’t the life for her. 

Charlotte wanted to run errands and invite friends over for drinks and know that she could help people somehow, even if it was just one at a time. 

Leon could do that. Had done that, even in his short life. With just one touch he could take your pains away. Scrapes, cuts, and aches all dissolved at his urging. With all the bad in their childhood, there was at least the joy of their extraordinary natural talents. 

If he’d lived to escape, to build a life outside of the Workshop, she had no doubt that Leon would be brave enough to do what she couldn’t. He would’ve stood in front of the world and offered out his hand to help.

It was a thought that Charlie tortured herself with on long nights of cowering away from notice. Tonight it blared through her mind stronger than ever, with the gravity of just how badly her fears had led her astray.

Four people, dead, because you thought that you could help without leaving your little hiding spot.

Charlie’s life was one of finding broken pieces and cobbling them into something new, but Leon could fix people, make it like they had never been broken at all. 

So she built Triage. To make her mind stop repeating that one horrible thought and to bring a piece of Leon back into the world.

Triage was a labor of love, forcing her to grow and work more than she ever thought that she could. He needed advanced sensors, to be able to scan and diagnose various ailments. Then he needed the medical knowledge to be able to come up with solutions, which Charlie had to find. And he needed to be taught: how to speak, how to stand, how to help people. There was always some new problem that she had to solve, and she loved the feeling of overcoming each one. 

So, how do you build a robot that’s a first-aid kit, doctor, and compassionate caregiver, all in one self-sustaining and self-learning package?

Well, you work for years, spend all your free time learning what it needs, maybe using a unique skill of your own to gather the best resources available, making prototype after prototype, update after software update, and you never give up. Even if you get super close a few times. You drag yourself back to the drawing board and start again, because this is important. 

Maybe the most important thing that you could ever do. If not for others, then for yourself. 

It’s possible that you never finish, never succeed, but you love the work. You need it, something that you’ll only admit to yourself in the most honest of moments, staring into the mirror’s eyes while you brush your teeth. Soul open to your own scrutiny, you concede that this work is what keeps you from falling apart some days.

Triage, if finally completed, could save millions of lives, could change the landscape of healthcare forever. And if not, if you work on it every day until you die, it will have at least kept you alive and hopeful.

You’ll have had something to love and devote yourself to creating, so you don’t stop. It’s not the finishing that truly matters in a labor of love anyways, it’s the doing. 

So, Charlotte labored. Bent over her workbench most nights, read medical journals like they were the morning paper, studied health field biases and machine learning while waiting for the subway. Every day was decorated by scrap-paper notes crumpled and dotted with dried raindrops, the cap of a highlighter held between her teeth, pen smudged across the back of her hand.

Triage would be strong enough to enter warzones, compassionate to those who’d been mistreated by the system, gentle enough to press a bandaid over a scraped knee.

And if he wasn’t, then she would start again.

Tonight, she worked in her blanket of silence to upgrade some of Triage's personality and accessibility features. Since his 'hands' weren’t quite graceful enough to manage legible sign, she was working on a way to create a signing caption system for his visual display. So far she was almost done with ASL, and making progress into research on foreign signs.

Personality-wise, Triage was still a bit… blunt.

Her first priority when preparing Triage for field-testing had been patient confidentiality, ensuring he wouldn’t repeat or disclose anyone’s scan information without their express consent. This left him suitable for minor healthcare scenarios, but not yet able to work without supervision.

Down the hall the Hernandezes had allowed her and Triage to examine them, field testing in exchange for not having to shell out money at the clinic for small sprains and stomach bugs. They were patient with the learning process, but Triage almost blew the whole arrangement with an uncomfortably honest assessment of the survivability of their infant’s high fever. 

Essentially he was a toddler with a medical degree, liable to say just about anything. This trait was adorable to Charlie, but not an ideal quality for a healthcare professional.

Built to lift and carry a 350 lb. human with ease, Triage needed a strong bedside manner to counter the impact of his intimidating frame, and unhelpful fatality statistics were not the way to go. Therefore, he was being taught some ideas of social convention, little things first, so as to not overwhelm him.

The sun had long set by the time she finished her last line of soldering. Barely patient enough to let it cool properly, Charlie dusted the chip with compressed air and started to prepare Triage for his update. Igor rolled across the workbench, vacuuming dust and odd bits, collecting tools to be put back in their place.

Like always when her earmuffs were on, Igor’s screen ran a jumbotron-like scroll of what he wanted to say: Clean Up, Late For Dinner.

Charlotte turned away and towards the windows, where Triage was slumped against the couch cushions. Not one to be ignored, Igor scooted a foot to his right, placing himself in view of one of the security mirrors that allowed Charlie to see behind her without turning.

“I can’t read that, it’s backwards.”

The text was promptly mirrored, and she laughed a little, feeling the rumble of it in her chest.

“Okay, half an hour, let me just run diagnostics real quick.”

Igor’s eyes reappeared, flattened into two disapproving half-circles. Knowing that he’d start ramming into her ankles in exactly 31 minutes, Charlie leaned down over Triage to get started. 

It was a bit morbid feeling, something usually so full of life now cold dead-weight, and worse was the fact that processing was all kept in his head.

Cracking open the shell in order to tinker around inside always made her a little squeamish, like she was disrespecting her friend somehow. Still, there was no better alternative, he needed malleable sides for functionality, and a mostly hollow core to ensure that he wasn’t ridiculously heavy. She already struggled enough with him being almost a half-ton. 

Soldering in the right connections, she successfully replaced the former attempts at a personality chip and attached the diagnostics cable between Triage and her laptop.

The process would go faster if she synced, but after the news that she’d gotten this morning, she was a little hesitant. Instead of slipping out of her body and giving the systems a good look, she opted for the long way— allowing a program to run through it for her.

Ten painful and boring minutes later she was given a clear scan, he most likely wouldn’t suffer any malfunctions from the upgrade.

“See, Igor, I even finished early.”

The bot didn’t respond, instead climbing up to the side table and staring down at Triage with impassive glowing eyes, haloed by the lamp behind him. She honestly couldn’t tell if Igor was experiencing sibling rivalry or just couldn’t recognize that Triage was a robot just like him. Hopefully he’d grow out of it on his own, where do you even begin to program jealousy out of a robot?

Charlie initiated Triage’s boot-up sequence, then shut his casing and sat back on her heels to wait. His internal lighting warmed and began to glow through his reinforced vinyl ‘skin’, limbs rotating experimentally as he sat upright.

Digital eyes had just blinked to life when the ground began to shake, growing from a tremor to a rumble. There were only a few seconds for Charlie to wonder what was causing it before the wall beside her exploded.

Hope you enjoyed, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, and feel free to shares any thoughts, it helps me to keep up motivation to work on this :)

[magicalqueennightmare]

Sins & Amends Chapter 44

Billy Russo x Female Reader (60 part story)

This follows pre- the punisher into the storyline of daredevil, punisher season 1 and beyond

This is NOT Canon Billy. This is decent human being Billy left with bad options over worse decisions

This was also posted to A03 under: WaywardGaPeach. That account and this one is the only place you'll see me post this. If you see it on any other platform/account know it's not me.

Chapter Summary/ Warnings: A new life comes into your crazy little family

You decided to take a couple days off after finding out and just told Chief Michelson you were sick. In truth you just needed time to adjust.

After Frank's harsh initial reaction he'd switched into more of a protector/ planner mode. You didn't even know the sex of the baby yet and the man was making lists for what furniture you'd need and telling you it was about time you got a car.

You sat next to Karen, both of you wearing a smile as the two of you watched Frank and Curtis measure out your spare bedroom to decide where a crib could go. 

"Frank! I mean I'm pretty sure it's got somewhere to sleep for a while" Karen teased running a hand over your stomach. He raised an eyebrow at her "Very funny. I'm not saying we need to buy it now but Y/N you remember how insane it was bringing Lisa how from the hospital" 

You nodded and felt a flicker of hope at the simple fact that he was actually talking about one of the kids unprompted. "I remember Frank but Karen does have a point. We'll get everything ready in time hell I still have people that don't know"

He glanced up from his fourth cup of coffee and grinned "If you mean David and Sarah, I already called them" "Frank!" Karen scolded but you couldn't find it in yourself to be mad. Frank was smiling, that's what was important. 

"Oh shit!" You said suddenly and everyone turned to look at you. "I gotta tell Alice!" 

"Are you still going to be working on the rig?" Frank asked as you stood to hunt your cellphone. You shrugged "Protocol says I have a choice to either go on dispatch duty till the baby's born or stay on rig. Guess it all depends what the obgyn says after my first appointment"

You hit Alice's number and walked into your kitchen, trying to block out the conversation in your living room but catching enough to know Frank and Curtis was planning to meet with Matt and Dinah to officially accept the offer she'd laid out.

The phone rang twice before Alice answered "About time! Chief called to say Jessie will be partnered with me tor the next couple days, meanwhile I'm freaking out thinking something is wrong with you" you chuckled nervously "Well um the doctor did find something out"

"What?" She nearly screamed and you could hear Kenzie in the background so you said "Put me on speaker so I can tell you both" "Ok" you heard her click it over so you took a breath then said "Turns out I'm pregnant"

"Oh my god!" Was all Kenzie said. Alice on the other hand cracked up laughing "Well it'll be a good looking kid. Helluva attitude but good looking" "Geez thanks Alice" you replied but was relieved that now everyone close to you knew. Her voice got serious then she said "We're here for you no matter what"

Chief let you stay on rig until you were a week shy of the halfway point. He then informed you Alice would keep Jessie as a temp partner until you could come back and that you'd be working dispatch.

Frank took the deal from Homeland, Curtis and David took the job offer so that meant Frank was officially back from the dead. He said it was because he wanted to make sure he could be there for Karen, you and the baby no matter what.

The most comical thing that you found about being pregnant was the stares you'd get from the bodega owner when you'd come waddling in behind none other than the punisher in the middle of the night because a craving hit so Frank had come over to take you to the store. You'd teased more than once "I think I'm hurting your reputation Frank" he'd shrugged and patted your stomach "That's my niece or nephew so it's worth it"

The day you went for the gender reveal ultrasound Karen went with you. You laid back on the bed and reached for her hand. She squeezed yours gently as the tech started moving the wand around "Well mama, we got fingers, toes and oh look at that" you and Karen glanced at the screen so she circled one area "You got a little girl on the way"

Karen practically squealed "Frank was hoping it was a girl too" she admitted after a moment. You simply laughed and shook your head.

A few weeks later Karen, Sarah,and Leo took you out for the day while Frank, Curtis , David and Zach went about turning your spare bedroom into a nursery "one that can move up with her in size" Frank had added at your look.

You counted yourself as unbelievably lucky. Yeah Billy wasn't able to be with you and would probably never even meet his daughter but you and her both had an entire village behind you. Your daughter's family consisted from vigilantes to reporters to ex NSA analyst and damn near everything in between.

The closer you got to your due date the less amount of time you got to spend alone. Someone was always with you. You couldn't blame them even Frank backed down when Karen gave marching orders.

You had gotten Alice and Kenzie to come over to help you frame photos for the family wall you'd added to the baby's room. "This is a good photo of you and Maria" Alice smiled looking at the photo. Maria was practically hanging off your neck and was mid laugh. It was one of the times Frank and Billy had come back unexpectedly early and she had been deliriously happy that Frank wouldn't miss Christmas that year.

"Yeah it is. God I miss her" you answered with a small smile then reached for another stack of pictures "I want to make sure the baby has everyone I consider her family represented. That's why I asked for a shot of you two. Me and Alice have been partners for so many years. Seems only fair" 

It took the three of you a couple hours to frame all the photos you wanted up and to arrange them around the room so they didn't look too cluttered. 

You stepped back to look at the finished product and smiled. You, Billy, Frank, Karen, Curtis and Maria and the kids were represented the most then there was some of the Liebermans, Matt and Foggy then Alice and Kenzie. "I can say one thing. This kid has one hell of a family waiting to meet her" Alice teased throwing an arm over your shoulders.

A knock from the door drew all of your attention so you checked the time "That would be Frank and Karen" Kenzie glanced at your belly for permission so when you nodded she laid on hand on it then leaned down to talk to the baby "Bye little bit. Maybe your mommy will pick a name before you're born so you won't just be listed as babygirl Y/L/N-Russo"

"It's just gonna be babygirl Russo. I have a lot more issues with my last name than his" you admitted so she shrugged then changed it to "Well then little bit hopefully mommy picks a name so you're not just babygirl Russo"

You swatted playfully at her "Alice get your wife"  Alice kissed your cheek then grabbed Kenzie's hand "C'mon baby. We don't provoke the pregnant lady" 

The day you hit thirty nine weeks you had decided to go to the bulletin to have lunch with Karen. You were walking up the steps and heard Ellison "Need a hand?" You looked up to see he was offering his arm so you gladly took it. "Thank you!" He nodded and walked with you inside.

You hadn't even made it to Karen's office when a pain hit severe enough to double you up. "Y/N?" When you didn't reply he looked at the nearest person "GET PAGE NOW!" 

Karen came running around the corner about the time another pain hit you and you felt liquid run down your leg. You looked down to see you were now standing in a puddle of water "Oh fuck Karen this is it" you managed to get out but she was already pulling a chair under you and calling an ambulance with Ellison's phone while she called Frank with hers.

------------------------

Alice and Jessie happened to be on the ambulance that responded. She sat in the back monitoring your contractions on the way "See? Little bit wanted auntie Alice even if I was at work!" She teased making a pained laugh escape you "She could've asked to call you!"

By the time you got to the hospital the waiting room looked like a frickin circus. Matt, Foggy and Marci were there fresh from court from the looks of it. Frank and Curtis were there with Dinah and Sam in tow who had apparently drove them. Curtis was on the phone with David trying to convince him he didn't have to come yet.

When they spotted you and Karen all eyes turned towards you as your obgyn Dr Lynnette Erickson came out the double doors and took in just how many were there with you. "Miss Y/L/N only two can accompany you into delivery" you grabbed Karen's hand then glanced at Frank "What you say Frankie?" He nodded and quickly got to the other side of the bed as they pushed you away.

Dinah and Sam were telling Curtis  they'd call to check in and Alice hollered she'd come after shift.  That was the last you heard out the waiting room.

------------------

Frank stepped into the hall while Karen helped you change into a gown then he came back in and stood at the head of the bed watching the doctor and nurses mill around with his patent Punisher glare in full swing. "Easy Frank. They're here to help me" you reminded him with a pained smile and he nodded "Yeah they better"

An hour later Frank was sitting in the bed behind you supporting your body against his own while Karen helped you through the breathing. "One more push and she'll be out mama" Dr Erickson said and Frank leaned up to whisper in your ear "Come on sweetheart. You got this. You're more badass than any marine I've ever met. One more push. You can do it"

Frank helped you sit up further and Karen moved down to help hold your legs as you gave one final hard push and was rewarded with a shrill cry filling the room. After a moment one of the nurses handed you a tiny pink bundle. "Congratulations. What's her name?" 

You glanced between Karen and Frank who were standing at your side in awe of their niece "I was thinking Addison Elizabeth Russo" Frank's eyes teared up a bit when he heard the middle name but he nodded "Maria would've loved that" the nurse smiled and said "I'll write it in her chart. Do you want me to tell everyone waiting?" 

Frank shook his head "Give us three a few minutes then I'll go collect the nutjobs one at a time" the nurse laughed and said "Well congrats. I can tell already Addison is a very loved little girl" "That she is" Karen agreed with tears in her eyes.

Addison or Adi as you planned to call her was beautiful. She had your nose but Billy's dark eyes and mouth. God she was going to look just like him. You'd never felt more whole than staring at her.

----------------------

Once you were moved into a regular room Frank headed out to deliver news and to bring a couple people back at a time to meet the newest member of your little family.

"I wish Billy could've been here" you confessed and Karen kissed your forehead "I know you do. I promise you won't be alone in any of this" you smiled at her as Adi cooed slightly in your arms.

--------------------

Despite the fact that you were exhausted and wanted to sleep it was a comical experience seeing everyone meet her.

Curtis was a pro at holding babies. She curled right up to him and nearly fell asleep "She knows who's gonna be her favorite uncle" he'd teased with a wink towards you when Frank shot him a look. 

Foggy was nervous and let Karen direct him how to hold her but looked so cute smiling down at her. You realized Matt was standing back so you said "Get up in here Matt. Come meet her" he sat on the edge of the bed so you laid her in his arms. He gently ran his fingertip across her face "She's beautiful Y/N"

The Liebermans were a family unit and it showed. Sarah held Adi while David, Leo and Zach met her. "She's so little!" Leo whispered and you grinned "By the time she's up a size you'll be needing a baby sitting job right Leo?"

Alice and Kenzie barely made it under the wire before visiting hours ended. Alice just sat there smiling at her "You did amazing Y/N! She is gorgeous!" 

---------------------

Once everyone else had left you thought you'd be alone overnight but Frank pulled out the cot in the corner of the room. "What are you doing?" You asked and he glanced over his shoulder at Karen and smirked  "I'm staying kid. You were there for Maria when she had newborns. I'm gonna be here for you. Me and Karen already set up a schedule so you always have help. Sarah has offered to watch her when you go back to work and for any overnight shifts we bought a portable crib for our place"

You felt yourself tearing up again and didn't know if it was hormones or what. "Thank you both" he shrugged "We stick together sweetheart. Kind of what we do"

You took a deep breath then said "That does lead into my next question" they exchanged a look then Karen said "What is it?" You looked at Adi sleeping peacefully then at Frank then at Karen. "Will you two be her godparents?" 

"Really?" Karen asked with a broad smile. When you nodded she pulled you into a hug then Frank hugged you both "This a yes?" You asked after a moment and Frank groaned "Christ, yes Y/N we'd love to be her godparents"

@intothesoul

@weallhaveadestiny

[randofics]

Winter warmth

Southern reader x Matt Murdock

I got in the mood for a winter fic. With the temp dropping into the 50's today I just needed something to "warm me up". This is just pure fluff. Hope yall enjoy!

You had known Matt Murdock for a month now. You had literally ran into him on the street. It had been your fault as you were distracted with your phone. You were usually good about avoiding people on the street even when you were engrossed with your phone. You had apologized profusely and then noticed he was blind. He was holding a walking stick and had red round shades over his eyes. He smiled at you with that enticing grin and said it was fine. The rest was history.

You just recently started dating him having found him attractive and funny among other things. He was sweet and you hadn't found many like him in New York. You weren't from New York so the drastic drop in temperature through the fall and start of winter was a struggle for you. You were used to mild winters that rarely dropped below 32°f. The south was like that most years. The large amount of snow was new too. At most you would get a few inches or just slush, but here snow could get a foot or more deep.

Right now you were walking down the icy sidewalk to Matt's apartment. You had to park a block away because of the snow and ice blocking the street. You were so happy when you finally reached the steps. And you just about slipped on an icy patch stepping up to the glass door. The warmth from inside hit you in the face when you opened the door. You stamped your boots on the rug to get the ice off them before you got in the elevator. When you got to his door you knocked gently knowing he would be able to hear it. And sure enough he opened the door. "Hey Matt." "Oh hey y/n what are you doing here?" "I thought I'd surprise you." You shook the plastic bag you were carrying. "Ooh you brought me something?" "Yeah I figured you'd like something to warm you up after work." He stepped out of the way for you to go past him. "Please come in."

You slid off your boots near the door and shucked off your jacket placing it on the coat rack. He walked up behind you and placed his hands on your abdomen. "So what did you get me?" He rested his chin on your shoulder. " Well I figured I would make shrimp and grits and use some of my eggs that my mom sent yesterday. My hens back home laid them so they're better than store bought." "Ooh I've never had shrimp and grits before." You turn your head to look at him. "Really? Well I suppose it's not really a northern thing." "What's it like?" "Well you can get it in a couple different ways but it's sorta like porridge I guess? It's savory and it's made from corn but it doesn't really taste like corn if that makes sense."

He hummed in acknowledgement and released his hold on you. He walked into the kitchen behind you. "You need my help with anything?" "The grits are quick to make but you can chop up the vegetables I got to make omelets with. It's a weird combination of dishes but I couldn't think of a better way to use up these eggs." He squatted down to grab the cutting board from the cabinet while you got everything ready for the grits. By the time you went to grab the veggies for him he had the board and a knife on the counter. You placed the scallions and tomatoes next to the cutting board and handed him the onion to cut first. Soon the smell of the grits and shrimp was wafting around the apartment and you asked him to put some of the scallions in the pot of grits. After the shrimp and grits were taken off the heat you used the same pan you cooked the shrimp in to make two omelets. You scraped the vegetables on top of the cooking eggs and folded it in half.

"What do you want to drink honey?" He opened the top cabinet to grab two glasses. " I actually brought some sweet tea too so if you want to try some you're welcome to it." After placing the glasses on the island behind you he felt around for the bag. You could hear it crinkle when he touched and took the half gallon jug out of it. While he poured the amber liquid into the glasses you finished plating the food. "Ok it's done darlin I'll take our plates to the table if you'll get the utensils and glasses." "Ok I'll be there in a sec." You placed the plates on the table and sat waiting for him. He sat the drinks on the table and handed you a set of utensils. "It smells great!" "Yeah I think you'll enjoy it." He takes a sip of the sweet tea. "Mmh that's really sweet! Almost too sweet." You chuckle at him. "If you want I can water it down a bit. I know it can be strong to anyone who hasn't had it before." He chuckles. "Yeah I may need too." You take the glass from him and walk to the sink pouring some water in it. "Here see if this is any better." He takes an experimental sip.

"Yeah that's better thanks honey." You sit back down. "Alright let's eat before it gets cold." You both scoop up some of the grits and take a bite. "Oh yeah that's good." "Glad you like it darlin. It should help warm us up." He's too busy eating to respond so you continue to eat aswell. A little bit later and you're both stuffed. Matt looks ready to pass out at any moment. "Here why don't you go lay down on the couch and I'll put the dishes up." "Good idea I feel like I'm going to fall asleep any minute now." You gather up the plates and he goes to the couch. When you walk into the living room he's laying across the couch waiting for you. You get on top of him and snuggle into his chest as he covers the both of you in a thick blanket. "Goodnight y/n." "Goodnight Matt." He kisses your head and wraps his arms around you as you drift off to sleep.

[lowaltitude]

Dial Tone 2 | Matt Rempe

- NHL, New York Rangers - x Reader

❪ FEM! ❫

───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────

𖥻 Matthew Rempe x FEM!reader, in which a wrong number friendship is more than you'd hope for. OR he falls first, he falls hard, he's NYC's biggest enforcer.

𖥻 PART ONE HERE. 3.6k words

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I could barely contain my excitement as I sat in the bustling airport with my classmates, waiting for our flight to New York. My leg bounced with nervous energy, and I couldn’t stop smiling. I had been looking forward to this day for weeks, but now that it was finally here, the anticipation was almost too much to handle.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” my friend Lauren teased, nudging me with her elbow as she sipped on her overpriced airport coffee.

“I can’t help it,” I said, grinning from ear to ear. “We’re going to New York!”

“Yeah, but you look like you’ve just won the lottery or something,” she laughed, raising an eyebrow. “What’s got you so giddy?”

I bit my lip, trying to tone down my excitement. I couldn’t exactly tell her about Manhattan, about how I was going to surprise him by being in his city. The thought alone made me feel like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush.

“I guess I’m just excited to finally see the city,” I said, half-truthfully. “I’ve always wanted to go.”

“Well, it’s going to be amazing,” Lauren agreed, leaning back in her seat. “I can’t wait to explore. Have you got any plans for when we’re not at the conference?”

“Not really,” I lied. “I figured I’d just wander around, see where the city takes me.”

In reality, I had been meticulously planning out my free time, making sure I’d have the chance to visit some of the places Manhattan had mentioned in our conversations. Central Park, the Brooklyn Bridge, and maybe even that bagel place he’d raved about. But I wasn’t going to tell Lauren all of that. Not yet.

As we waited to board, my phone buzzed with a message from Manhattan. I glanced at the screen, my heart doing a little flip as I saw his name pop up.

Wednesday, May 29, 2024Today, 10:17 AM MANHATTAN: What are you up to today, San Diego?

I couldn’t help but smile as I typed out my response, the excitement of the trip making it hard to keep the secret.

ME: Just hanging out, nothing too crazy. How about you? :) MANHATTAN: Same here, just getting ready for another big game. A little exciting. What’s got you in such a good mood today?

He knew me too well. I hesitated for a moment, debating whether to drop a hint or keep the surprise going.

ME: Let’s just say I’ve got something fun planned. I’ll tell you all about it later. MANHATTAN: You’re killing me with suspense here, San Diego. Now I’m curious.

I chuckled, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves as I imagined his reaction when I finally told him—or when I maybe even bumped into him in his own city.

ME: Patience, Manhattan. You’ll find out soon enough. MANHATTAN: I guess I don’t have a choice. Just don’t keep me waiting too long.

I tucked my phone back into my bag, my smile refusing to fade. This trip was going to be unforgettable, and not just because of the conference. I could hardly wait to step off the plane and onto New York soil, knowing that Manhattan had no idea what was coming.

“Alright, they’re boarding our flight,” Lauren said, standing up and grabbing her bag. “You ready?”

“More than ready,” I said, grabbing my own bag and following her to the gate, my heart racing with anticipation. New York, here I come.

As the plane descended into New York, my excitement was at an all-time high. I couldn’t wait to explore the city, but more than that, I couldn’t wait to surprise Manhattan. The plan was simple: I’d head to his college, catch one of his hockey games, and finally meet him in person. I could already picture the look on his face when he saw me there.

After dropping my bags off at the hotel and freshening up, I decided to send him a quick message. I needed to get some information without giving away my plan.

ME: Hey, how’s hockey going? My friend is heading to New York soon, and I was thinking maybe she could grab me a hoodie from your college. ME: Which college do you go to again?

I stared at my phone, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement as I watched the typing bubble appear. I wondered if he’d catch on to what I was trying to do, but he probably thought I was just being curious.

The typing bubble kept appearing and disappearing, and I felt my anticipation build. What was taking him so long?

Finally, his message came through.

MANHATTAN: Long Island University. Let’s go Sharks! 🦈

I smiled to myself, mentally filing away the information. LIU. Perfect. Now I just needed to find out when their next game was and how to get there. The idea of seeing him in action, playing the sport he was so passionate about, made me even more excited.

ME: Cool! I’ll definitely ask her to grab me one. LIU sounds like a great school. MANHATTAN: It is. I’m really enjoying it here. Hockey’s been great too.

I leaned back in my seat, feeling a rush of excitement. Everything was falling into place. In just a few days, I’d be at LIU, watching him play, and he had no idea what was coming.

ME: Glad to hear it! Maybe one day I’ll get to see you play in person. MANHATTAN: I’d like that. But for now, you’ll just have to settle for the hoodie 😉

I laughed, feeling a surge of anticipation. He had no idea that “one day” was much sooner than he thought.

ME: I guess I will. But who knows what the future holds? MANHATTAN: True. The future’s full of surprises.

I couldn’t agree more. Little did he know, the biggest surprise was about to come his way. I tucked my phone away, feeling more determined than ever. Tomorrow, I’d make my way to LIU, ready to see Manhattan in his element. This trip was turning out to be more thrilling than I’d ever imagined.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The next morning, I woke up early, my heart racing with anticipation. Today was the day I’d finally see Manhattan play hockey. After a quick breakfast with my classmates, I made up an excuse about needing some time alone to explore the city. They didn’t ask too many questions, which was a relief. I wasn’t sure how I’d explain that I was sneaking off to surprise a guy I’d never actually met in person.

With my bag slung over my shoulder, I set off toward Long Island University. The city buzzed with energy as I navigated the subway system, and I could hardly keep still as I imagined what the game would be like. What would he look like on the ice? Would I recognize him immediately?

When I finally arrived at LIU’s campus, I felt a rush of excitement. The rink was larger than I expected, and the atmosphere was alive with the buzz of college sports. I spotted a few people in Sharks gear and made a mental note to grab a hoodie later—something to remember this day by.

Just as I was about to head inside, my phone buzzed with a message from Manhattan.

Thursday, May 30, 2024Today, 9:00 AM MANHATTAN: What are you up to today?

I hesitated for a moment, torn between keeping the surprise and telling him something closer to the truth.

ME: Just wandering around, checking out some new places. You? MANHATTAN: Nothing too exciting, just got some practice. Gotta stay sharp for the game tomorrow.

My heart skipped a beat. If he was heading to practice, that meant he’d be at the rink soon. I grinned, feeling like everything was falling perfectly into place.

ME: Busy day for you then. Good luck with practice!

I tucked my phone away and stepped into the rink. The cool air hit me immediately, a stark contrast to the warm, bustling city outside. I found a seat near the middle, close enough to see the action but far enough to stay somewhat hidden. The rink was buzzing with the energy of casual practice, but I didn’t see anyone who looked like Manhattan.

Confused, I glanced at my phone again, but decided to focus on enjoying the moment. Maybe everything would still work out.

As the few players on the ice began to pack up, I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer. With a mix of nerves and excitement, I made my way down to the edge of the rink where the three boys were gathering their gear. They looked friendly enough, chatting and laughing as they peeled off their jerseys.

"Hi there," I greeted them tentatively, hoping not to intrude.

"Hey," one of them replied with a smile, while another gave a nod in acknowledgment.

Feeling a bit bolder, I held up the picture of Manhattan that I had saved on my phone. "Do you guys happen to know him?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

The boy closest to me glanced at the picture and furrowed his brow. "Is this a test, or a bad joke?" he replied, a hint of confusion in his voice.

I blinked, taken aback by his reaction. "No, not at all," I said quickly. "He's a hockey player, right?"

The boy let out a chuckle, exchanging a glance with his teammate who rolled his eyes. "Yeah, he's a hockey player," he replied, his tone slightly mocking. With that, he skated off towards the locker rooms, his friend following close behind.

Left standing there, I turned to the last boy who was gathering his equipment. "Do you know where I can find him?" I asked, my voice tinged with disappointment.

He shrugged apologetically. "I don't know, maybe try MSG or something," he suggested, referring to Madison Square Garden. With that, he picked up his stick and followed his teammates off the ice, leaving me feeling confused and unsure of what to do next.

I stared after them for a moment, my heart sinking. Maybe this was a mistake after all.

Feeling disheartened and unsure of what had just transpired at the rink, I made my way back to the hotel. My mind was still spinning with confusion and disappointment over not finding any trace of Manhattan. As I walked through the lobby, Lauren immediately noticed something was off.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concern etched on her face.

I forced a smile, trying to brush off my disappointment. "Nothing, just tired," I replied vaguely.

To cheer me up, she leaned in conspiratorially. "Hey, you like hockey, right? There's some playoffs happening tomorrow, and apparently they're really shitty seats, but Professor Tenner says we can all go since it's included in the expo."

Her attempt to lift my spirits caught my attention. Playoffs sounded exciting, and even though I was still reeling from the day's events, the prospect of attending a hockey game in New York City was enticing, even if it wasn't one of Manhattan's games like I'd hoped.

"Really?" I perked up, feeling a glimmer of excitement return. "That sounds like fun. I could use a distraction."

She nodded eagerly. "Exactly! We'll forget about everything and just enjoy the game."

I nodded in agreement, grateful for her effort to turn things around. Perhaps the disappointment of today would fade with the thrill of tomorrow's game.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

As we rode the subway towards Madison Square Garden, the excitement of the upcoming hockey playoffs managed to distract me momentarily from the strange encounter at LIU's rink earlier. The subway car was filled with fans dressed in jerseys, hats, and scarves, all buzzing with anticipation for the game. It was contagious, and I couldn't help but smile as I saw the neon signs outside the arena proclaiming, "NEW YORK RANGERS VS FLORIDA PANTHERS, 2-2 TIED SERIES."

Glancing at my phone, I noticed several unread messages from Manhattan. They started off flirty, but the last few were increasingly concerned:

Friday, May 31, 2024Today, 7:00 PM MANHATTAN: Made my sister take this so you can see how hard it is being so tall and attractive

MANHATTAN: Hey, haven't heard from you all day. Everything okay? ❤️ MANHATTAN: Did something happen? You're acting weird. MANHATTAN: Seriously, just let me know you're okay. MANHATTAN: San Diego??? MANHATTAN: I'm starting to get worried now. Please, just tell me what's going on.

Each message tugged at my conscience, but right now, with the game looming ahead and the vibrant energy of the city around me, I couldn't bring myself to reply. Turning off my phone, I focused on the lively scene outside as we emerged from the subway. Madison Square Garden towered above us, its exterior adorned with banners and flags of the Rangers. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the chatter of excited fans and vendors selling snacks and memorabilia.

My friend nudged me excitedly. "This is going to be awesome," she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

I nodded, a surge of anticipation building within me. Stepping into the bustling concourse of the arena, I marveled at the sea of blue and red jerseys, each person radiating their team pride. It was infectious, and I found myself caught up in the excitement of being part of such a passionate crowd.

Finding our seats, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for not responding to Manhattan's messages. I promised myself I would explain everything later, after the game. Right now, I needed to immerse myself in the thrill of playoff hockey and enjoy this unforgettable experience in the heart of New York City.

Just before the game began, one last text came in from Manhattan. The notification popped up on my screen, and I couldn't ignore it any longer:

MANHATTAN: Starting to think I messed things up. Please talk to me. I have to go, but PLEASE tell me you're okay.

The urgency in his message was palpable, and it weighed heavily on my mind. I knew I owed him an explanation, but right now, surrounded by the anticipation of the playoff game at Madison Square Garden, I couldn't find the words to reply.

My friend noticed my troubled expression and gently asked, "Everything okay?"

I hesitated for a moment, torn between the excitement of the moment and the guilt of leaving Manhattan hanging. "Yeah, just some stuff going on," I replied vaguely, hoping she wouldn't press further.

She nodded understandingly, sensing my reluctance to talk about it. "Well, let's focus on the game. It's going to be amazing!"

I managed a small smile, grateful for her distraction. As the national anthem played and the teams took the ice, the crowd erupted into cheers. The energy of the arena was infectious, and I found myself swept up in the excitement despite my lingering worries about Manhattan.

As the players came out and the game began, the atmosphere inside Madison Square Garden was electric. The puck dropped, and the game progressed smoothly until midway through the second period. Number 73, newly on the ice, was skating hard when suddenly, number 91 from the opposing team delivered a hard hit. The crowd erupted into shouts and boos as the large screen replayed the hit, the referees finally calling a penalty.

In the midst of the chaos, the camera panned back to the live action, focusing on New York Rangers' number 73 as he removed his helmet. And there he was—Manhattan.

My heart skipped a beat as I watched him on the screen, his presence confirming that the mystery friend who had been texting me was indeed using a picture of Matt Rempe. Confusion and disbelief flooded my mind. Had I been lied to this whole time? Was this some elaborate prank or misunderstanding?

As Manhattan skated off the ice, I felt a mix of emotions—surprise, disappointment, and a tinge of betrayal. The crowd's cheers and the game's intensity became distant background noise as I tried to process everything. The realization that Manhattan was real and here, playing hockey in front of me, collided with the unsettling feeling that someone had deceived me.

I glanced at my friend beside me, who was still cheering enthusiastically for the Rangers. She turned to me with a bright smile. "This is amazing, right?"

"Yeah," I managed to reply, forcing a smile while my mind raced with unanswered questions.

As the game continued, I couldn't tear my eyes away from Manhattan on the ice. Despite the whirlwind of emotions, one thing was clear—there was much more to this story than I had ever imagined.

On the way out of the game, the crowd slowly dispersing around us, I couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal and confusion. I pulled out my phone and hesitated for a moment before typing out a message to Manhattan.

ME: So, was this all just a joke? Using someone else's photos to pretend to be someone you're not?

The message hung in the air, my thumb hovering over the send button. I felt a mix of anger and hurt, wanting desperately for there to be some explanation that would make sense of everything. But as the seconds ticked by, doubts crept in. What if I had been naive to believe in this connection all along?

My friend glanced over at me, sensing my unease. "You okay?" she asked gently.

I forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside. "Yeah, just… something came up," I replied vaguely, my voice betraying my uncertainty.

Finally, I pressed send, the message disappearing into the digital abyss. As we made our way through the bustling streets of New York City, I couldn't shake the sinking feeling that the person I thought I knew as Manhattan might not be who he claimed to be after all.

The crowd outside Madison Square Garden buzzed with post-game energy, but my focus was solely on my phone, waiting for Manhattan’s reply. The seconds dragged on before my screen lit up with his response.

MANHATTAN: What? A joke? What are you talking about?

I clenched my jaw, frustrated by his confusion. How could he not understand?

ME: I saw you. Or, I guess I saw the real you. You’ve been sending me photos of a hockey player this whole time, pretending it was you. Matt Rempe. Ring a bell?

I hit send, my emotions swirling between hurt and anger. Was this his way of getting a laugh? Why string me along like this?

His response came quickly this time.

MANHATTAN: Wait, what? I didn’t lie to you, I swear. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.

I scoffed at my phone. Was he really going to keep this act up?

ME: You sent me his photo. Matt Rempe. Number 73 for the Rangers. I saw him on the ice tonight.

My hands were shaking slightly as I typed, overwhelmed by everything. How could he keep denying it when I’d literally just seen Matt?

There was a longer pause before his next message.

MANHATTAN: I didn’t lie. I never pretended to be someone else. I’m really confused right now. How did you… how did you see Matt?

My breath caught. Why did he sound so genuine? My mind scrambled to piece it together. How could he not know that I’d seen the very guy whose pictures he’d been sending? It didn’t make sense.

I typed again, my heart pounding.

ME: I saw him play. I was at the Rangers game tonight. You’ve been using his pictures this whole time, and now I feel like an idiot for believing you.

There was another long pause, and I could imagine him, wherever he was, sitting there trying to figure out what had just happened.

The longer I waited, the more the knot in my stomach tightened. Finally, my phone buzzed again with his reply.

MANHATTAN: I’m so confused. How did you end up at a Rangers game? I never sent you anyone else’s photos. I swear. I don’t even know what’s going on right now. ME: I came here for a school trip. I wanted to surprise you, so I went to what you told me was your University yesterday to see you play hockey. I thought it’d be this cute moment, but you weren’t there. Some guys at the rink acted weird when I asked about you, and I couldn’t figure it out. Then today, at the game, I saw Matt Rempe... The guy in the photos you’ve been sending me. MANHATTAN: Wait. You’re in New York? You went looking for me??? MANHATTAN: Okay, this is all a big misunderstanding, and I need you to believe me. I’m not lying. I am Matt Rempe. ME: No, you're not. Stop it. If this is your way of messing with me, just admit it. Why would you pretend to be someone like him? You think I wouldn’t find out? MANHATTAN: I’m not pretending. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I also didn’t want to throw all that stuff at you so fast. I’m sorry if it feels like I’ve been hiding things, but I wasn’t trying to trick you. I swear. ME: So what, you’re just Matt Rempe all of a sudden? I’m supposed to believe that you’re the guy I watched get slammed on the ice tonight? MANHATTAN: Yes. I wanted to tell you but we became friends and never stopped the little nickname thing, this isn’t how I wanted you to find out.

I stared at the message, my head spinning. How could this be true? I couldn't wrap my mind around it.

[sketch-mer-6195]

You Are Mine! (Foggy Nelson x Reader)

A/N: This was a comfort fic that does pertain mostly about me and my current situation in life and how I deal with stress. Foggy has become my comfort character whom I have fallen in love with. And thought it would be a great piece to show how great of a boyfriend he would be with a stressed out reader.

Warnings: Some swearing, angst out the wazoo, Foggy to the rescue, stress and some anxiety. I promise there is a happy ending! Word Count: 803

"Oh, my fucking God!"

Not good… especially when she woke up on the wrong side of the bed and had to deal with her boss via remotely as her new temp job had the perk of working mobile. Foggy was not only confused, but concerned for his girlfriend. Ever since they met, she had been bouncing between jobs while going to school online for her MBA. Growing up poor, taking care of her family and not caring about her own life and living like a hermit. And then her dad telling her to leave so she can not only live, but grow up. She had been a trooper, for the most part and possibly the most stubborn woman Foggy ever met. Yet he fell for her, especially her goofy personality to just try and hide her pain. Her internal turmoil. Her emotions.

Now seeing her on the verge of tears from stress with her job and her supervisor. Foggy had to step in to save the day. Yeah, he was nothing like Matt. But he knew what to do in times like these. Walking over to her at the teeny kitchen table that she occupied, Foggy shut off her laptop making her screech.

"Nelson!!!! The fuck was that for!?!" She glared up at him.

"You need to calm down before you explode." He replied calmly even though he was scared she was going to go off on him.

"I can't! I have to get this done. If not, I am so fucking screwed." She said with a flurry and leaned back in her chair with a look of despair.

Her hair was disheveled and possibly in the worst shape he had ever seen. Her frown lines were so prominent that he could have sworn they were permanent now. Her eyes glossy, full of thick tears and so red not even Matt’s glasses could hold a candle to her eyes. She was having a full blown meltdown. Many would have said she was acting like a baby. Foggy knew that this was how she acted in times like this. She had no clue how to react. She told him that she never liked talking or expressing her emotions towards her family. So, for her, this was the best she could do to cope.

Grabbing her phone, Foggy went to her contacts and called her supervisor.

"Yes, hi. Listen, I'm sorry for bothering you. But, I have this family emergency and (y/n) needs to accompany me since she is the only one with a driver's license since my wallet was stolen a couple days ago… My name? Percy…."

She looked up at him and couldn't believe what he was doing. She jumped to her feet only to see Foggy nod and smile.

"Thanks. Have a great day." And he hung up the phone.

Foggy smiled brightly and winked at his girlfriend and opened up his arms to invite her in for a big hug. "Am I good or what?!"

But she hesitated.

"Why did you call my boss? You know I won't get paid. We have bills and we gotta grab some groceries. Not to mention your dry clean." She began to ramble and list off other things that had to be done which only brought back more frustration and tears.

Foggy’s smile dropped and he soon placed his hands on her shoulders to keep her still and to ground her.

"Babe…" He sighed. "You've done so much for us. And with these shit ass jobs and getting let go and hired for another shit company. I hate seeing you like this."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's normal."

Groaning, Foggy furrowed his brows. Now he was getting frustrated. "No, it's not! You don't deserve to be treated like the water, that we all know is radioactive, at Josies. You deserve to be treated like the queen that you are. And I mean ticker tape down Broadway, Miss Universe gown and crown, the whole nine yards!" 

Foggy carefully cupped her face and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs and gave her a small, reassuring smile before continuing. "You're a smart, beautiful, kind and loving soul with a dork like me. I mean you could win Matt over, not that I would suggest that because you are mine!!!"

He pulled her into a tight hug and peppering her forehead and face with kisses. This elicited a rage of giggles and small chokes from earlier before she held him close and buried her face into his shoulder. Foggy smiled as he could feel her body melt and relax against his own. Her sniffles reduced, and in his favorite spot. His arms.

"Thank you, babe…" She murmured as he began to guide her to their shared bedroom so she could get some sleep.

"You're welcome, my miss universe."

Tagging: @natparkeriscatholic​ as there isn’t many Foggy fans, we will start a coalition for our Foggy Bear!

[griffxnnage]

chapter 6 - après la pluie, le beau temps

pairing: george weasley x fem!french!reader

word count: 1.0k

taglist google form

summary: if you wait long enough, and if you have faith, it pays off.

warnings: swearing, it's the last chapter :')

The first thing Y/N did, once she was closer to him, was slap him right across the face.

It took George by surprise, and his hand immediately went to the stinging flesh, thinking, “I deserved that one.”

He was still in shock from the slap when she pulled him in for a tight hug. “George Weasley, don’t ever make me go through that again.” She was stifling back tears, trying to hide it in his sweater.

George breathed in the scent of her hair, missing the familiarity of it, and realizing how much he missed her. He returned her bone crushing hug, missing the feeling of her body against his, and the warmth she provided.

The both slowly collapsed to the floor, and stayed entwined for Merlin knows how long. By the time they pulled away from one another, there were little wet spots on each of their clothes from the others' tears; they both laughed at that while wiping their eyes.

George took her hands in his, looking at them, and playing with her fingers.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for being a stupid git; it was wrong of me to accuse you of cheating. It’s just that I overthink everything, and I always focus on the negative, and that’s what's been on my mind ever since I heard you mention Alex-”

“George, I’d never cheat on you. Never. Unless the person flirting with me was Cindy Crawford, then you’re on your own.” Y/N chuckled, earning a boop to her nose.

“Good to know, goofball. And for the record, I’d never cheat on you, no matter the celebrity,” George laughed, wholeheartedly; a sound Y/N had missed hearing.

“Sorry for overreacting about this whole situation,” Y/N looked at the floor, feeling sorry for ruining the moment. “It’s just, I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before, and I didn’t know how to deal with it-”

“Y/N, now you’re the one rambling.” George chuckled, taking her face in his hands. “We both fucked up, and I’m pretty sure that’ll never happen again; at least, not on this scale.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, Weasley,” Y/N smiled, leaning forward and giving him a kiss for the first time in (what felt like) forever.

-

A year after the whole fiasco, more fights had occurred, but they got through it, realizing, and always coming to the conclusion, that their love outweighed any fight, and would always prevail. And as Y/N was getting her hair and makeup done, she smiled at her memories with him, the good and the ugly.

As her stylist dusted her eyelids with glistening eyeshadow, she thought about the first time she ever laid eyes on him. She remembered thinking, “That’s him. He’s the one.”

When highlight was applied to her cheekbones, she was reminded of the little pecks George had placed there, whether he was just leaving for work, or smothering her face in kisses when they were cuddling.

When matte lipstick was applied to her lips, she thought of some fights that had occurred over the span of their relationship. She thought about when they made up, and the way her lips would dance across his freckled skin.

The stylist analyzed her face when all the poking and prodding had ended, and swiveled Y/N around in her chair to see the final result.

It was perfect. Not too much, but just enough to accentuate her features in the best way possible. As she examined her face, she thought to herself, ‘Wow, I’m getting married today.’

-

“Perk up Georgie, you’re getting hitched!!” Exclaimed Fred, slapping his twin on the back. They were both looking at George’s reflection in a full length mirror, looking for anything that was out of place.

Fred ended up adjusting George’s bowtie, even though it was already perfectly straight. George noticed this, and pushed his brothers hand away. “Fred, you know I’m still your twin, right?”

Fred blinked away tears, and just said, “Yea, I know that. I’m just sad that you’re the first one gettin’ married; it was supposed to be me.” George laughed at that, shoving his brother away.

-

After everyone was ready, and happy tears were being stifled, it was time for Y/N to walk down the aisle. As their song was playing, the congregation stood, and she began her descent. Her heart was pounding, and her palms were becoming a tad sweaty, but all of the nervousness faded when she saw George staring at her in complete awe.

He couldn’t do anything but openly cry at how beautiful she was, and that simple act brought Y/N to tears. When she reached the end of the aisle, she whispered to George, “There goes my makeup,”

“You look wonderful, my love.” George smiled, kissing the side of her head. “Now, let’s get hitched, shall we?” He tilted his head, an adorable crooked smile upon his face.

“Sounds good to me, Georgie.” Y/N was smiling so hard, it hurt.

As they both turned to the officiant, Y/N thought about all the things that happened for the both of them to be in that moment. After all the bad things she’d been through, after all the heartbreak of losing the ones she held most dear, she thought, ‘Après la pluie, le beau temps.’

After rain, good weather. Hang in there. And Merlin, was she glad she did.

Her mind also wandered to the first day they met, and how he asked what ‘C’est la vie’ meant. And she realized that it doesn’t always have to be used in a negative context; ‘that’s life’ demonstrates the ups and downs, and the inbetweens. It shows how unpredictably beautiful life can be, and she came to the conclusion that she was one of the lucky ones who got to experience that side of life.

As she looked at her husband to be, she could only think about how her life was only going to get better from that moment on. Just before she started to say her vows, she made a vow to herself; that no matter how terrible life seems to be, or how brilliant it turns out to be, she’ll always remind herself of the good old saying, c’est la vie.

general/series taglist: @ur-local-reality-shifter @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @voidmalfoy @daltonacademia@freddieweasleyswife @amphxtrite @yourlocalspencerreidsimp @luvshack @henqtic @chaoswalkinq @slytherclawbitch @nerdyblogger06 @horrorxweasley @mollysolo@hufflepuffalice @ohnoitsmekc @eccentricbookworm @bellaiscool

if your url is crossed out, i wasn't able to tag you </3

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 19: Debridement

Characters: Captain Logan “Sy” Syverson, Shane Benton (OFC), various other original supporting/secondary characters

Summary: Shane begins to process life after her trauma, and Sy delivers the news of her safety to the people that matter most to her…but there is pushback on a few aspects of his report.

Romance and Smut Abound HERE!

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Mostly fluff, but with mention of Shane’s trauma in the cellar. Not graphic. 

Author’s Note: My darling readers! Thank you so much for your patience as I deal with seasonal stress, fatigue, anxiety, and some depression. It was my goal to have all chapters of this story done by the end of this year. I don’t think I’ll accomplish it, but I’ll do my very best to get at least one more chapter up by the 31st. 2020 has been a totally shit year, but I will forever owe it some remarkable things. This story, which has been an amazing escape from real life, the friends I’ve made from all over my country and the world, many of them because of this story, and a long overdue shift in my work hours starting next week. I’ll be glad to see the back of it, but the year has really opened me up to new ideas and some major soul-searching. I think, mentally, I’m actually more myself than I’ve ever been, despite some blue times. You can all take some credit for that improvement, because many of my moments of clarity have arisen from brilliant and profound posts here.

The title of this chapter seemed appropriate for a few reasons. Wounds are cleaned and cleared of damaged tissue during debridement. This is one of the steps usually required for a large and/or traumatic wound to heal. We see Shane beginning this process here in this chapter, and in a sense, Sy, as well. The cleansing of Shane in both the literal and figurative sense was so interesting and satisfying to write. And Sy’s bit at the end was a fun puzzle in which I had to figure out how to have Sy give the same news to four different recipients without sounding repetitive. I hope that landed, and if anyone has any suggestions, please let me know.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. This is an original work by me, Hannah. Please reblog if you wish to share. Please do not repost either in whole or part, as the work of anyone but myself. Thanks so much for reading!

Tags:

@onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive​ @summersong69​ @titty-teetee​ @bloodyinspiredfuck​ @agniavateira@oddsnendsfanfics​ @omgkatinka​ @thisismysecretthirstblog​ @speakerforthedead0​ @tumblnewby  @suavechops​ @radkesgirl83​ @wheretheriversrunintothesea​ @heartfelt-pen​ @auds24  @geekycanuck @lunarstarknight​ @wilma-g  @coldmuffinbanditshoe @feralrunaway​  @sugarpenchant​ @bichibibi @mzchievous-blog @shesakillerkween @madbadidc7ed @foodieforthoughts @toomanyfandomsshreya

If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Shane still felt as if her head was floating above her body, like a balloon on a long string. The combination of meds in her system had helped many of her symptoms. The pain she felt, the physical pain, had been alleviated. Her troubled mind had been put at ease, more or less. But that was a long time ago. And unfortunately, the side effects weren't wearing off at the rapid rate of the intended ones.

As she sat in the SUV--the escape vehicle-- parked outside a large building the size of a small airplane hangar, she tried not to think about what Sy and his pals were discussing just outside the vehicle. She tried not to reflect on the past few days that she had convinced herself would be her last. She tried not to think about what -- or, really, who -- was inside that building.

She thought about seeing Elliott again. The man who had planned to kill her, and almost succeeded. A part of her wished he had, because she wasn't sure she knew who she was anymore. She was a stranger to herself. And living like this seemed so much more difficult than a quick painless death. She couldn't bear the thought of being in view of him.

But another part of her wanted to go in there and end his life herself. That part of her could pull the trigger on a gun aimed at his head. That part of her could bury a knife in his kidney, or sever an artery. Her anatomy and physiology courses could serve her well here. She had dangerous knowledge. Maybe that's why doctors often seem so full of themselves. They possess the knowledge to end life, and yet they choose to save it. It sort of puts things into perspective. Maybe they're justified in their hubris.

Still one more part simply wanted to go home, clean up, and lay naked in her soft sheets with Sy wrapped around her. Warmer and more comforting than any blanket had ever been. She had remembered missing him so much. She thought now about his gentle, loving hands on her, his mouth tasting her so delicately, his…

But then her mind was ripped from the sensual thoughts of Sy and back to her horrific memories from that cellar. The hands of strangers, rough and hateful, their mouths full of words like bile or the grunts of their own violent fulfillment.

Her nightmare of a daydream was abruptly interrupted by the opening of the back passenger door. She jumped, and looked at the source of the noise with wide-eyed terror. It was only Sy, but she couldn't school her face into a softer expression, even after realizing she was safe.

"Oh, Sunshine, I'm so sorry I startled ya! You okay?"

She said nothing, just let out her held breath woefully.

"Let's head home. I'll get your purse and bag of clothes here."

"I don't want those clothes. Throw them away. And these shoes are going in the trash as soon as possible, too."

"Okay. I'll toss it. You sure?"

"I never want to see that bag again. I'm positive."

He nodded, grabbed her purse, and went around to help her out of the vehicle.

One of Sy's friends approached them from the building.

"You guys okay? You'll make it home alright?"

"Yeah, Matt, we'll be okay. I'll be in touch soon about next steps."

"You got it, Captain. Anything you need, let us know."

"Will do. Thanks for everything you've already done. I owe ya."

"You don't owe me a thing, brother. You don't owe any of us. Not after everything you've done for all of us…for everyone."

Sy just nodded at Matt, and turned toward his truck, steadying Shane all the way to the passenger door.

The drive to Shane's house was quiet. Sy kept one hand on the wheel, holding hers in the other. She felt safe, but she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling inside her. Like the other shoe would soon drop, and her love would be taken away again.

When they were safely parked in her driveway, Sy took her keys out of his pocket, apparently having gotten them from his friend who'd drove her car from Elliott's to the airplane hangar place. He walked around to get her, and helped her to her door. She kicked off her shoes immediately when she stepped inside her shadowy living room. She had left the same lamp on that she always did, but it was dimmer now, having been on almost a whole week.

"Bath?" Sy asked. Shane nodded slowly. She would need a long soak to erase this feeling.

Sy got the bath water ready while she found some clothes to put on after. She laid her comfiest lounge pants and her favorite sweat shirt on the bed and walked toward the bathroom. She was soon hit with the comforting aroma of lavender, chamomile, and vanilla as soon as she stepped through the doorway. He had used her favorite bubble bath and salts.

"Check that water temp. I think it's about right." he requested. It was perfect. She started to peel off the stiff paper scrubs she was still wearing, but he insisted on helping her. As she stood before him, even though he'd seen every inch of her body before, she felt more naked and exposed than ever. She looked at him, noticed tears welling in his eyes, and dropped her gaze to the bath mat under her feet. Her skin, typically immaculately clear, olive perfection, was now peppered with dozens of bruises. She felt like a dalmatian, covered in spots. She chuckled inside herself at the thought of one of her favorite Disney films featuring the breed most heavily.

Sy's strong, but gentle hands landed softly on her upper arms. His lips lit tenderly on her forehead. "Ready?" he asked. She nodded and stepped into the large, garden tub full of steaming water. It stung her feet, ankles, and calves, but she still bent to sit, wincing as her tender petals and behind met the medicinal broth. Sy held her hand as she stepped in and guided her down. She closed her eyes at the soothing pain of the hot water and did not open them until she felt the water level rise. Sy had stepped in with her, wearing just his boxer-briefs, and was sitting on the side of the tub. He reached for the hand shower, and turned the water back on, slightly less warm, but still soothing and soaked her hair, directing the water away from her face. He had thought to grab her shampoo from the shower, as well, and was lathering some up in his hands to apply to her wet strands. It felt like heaven to have his fingers in her hair like this. Relaxing and soporific. He kept at it until she was certain he must be getting pruney, not to mention tired.

After carefully rinsing her hair of the coconut-scented lather, he grabbed the lavender foam bath she loved, and worked it up in one of the wash cloths he'd brought from the linen caddy between the sink and shower. He massaged the suds into her tired and injured skin over her back, then requested each leg in turn, kneading her calves and feet as she took another of the cloths and washed her face with the rich cleanser she kept by the bath, typically using it only on her "spa days" but feeling that it would nourish her battered cheeks and nose better than anything else. Sy's ministrations filled her with a kind of blissful contentment. She couldn't help but wonder if she deserved him. She always had thought she deserved the best things in life, even though her romantic past didn't tend to pan out that way. She'd worked very hard and often allowed herself to invest in quality. But now…she felt broken, in spite of herself. She'd have to tell Sy all that happened to her one day, and when that day came, he'd probably realize how damaged she really was, and he'd leave. Just like everyone else always did. She knew the conversation needed to come sooner rather than later, but couldn't bring herself to break the spell yet.

Sy let her soak for as long as she was comfortable until the water grew tepid. She looked up to him, sitting on the side of the tub, legs now outside, his gaze like twin seas met hers. He had been watching her, it seemed. As if worried that she would dematerialize if he looked away. Her bath robe was draped across his lap, as was a large bath towel. She moved to stand from the now chilled bath water, and Sy was immediately up to aid her rising. He held her hand as she stepped out of the tub and dried her top half before helping her don the robe, then continued to dry her bottom half.

"Go on in there and get comfortable, Sunshine. I have a few phone calls to make. I wanna let your folks know you're okay and I wanna tell Detective Clarkson you've been found. Anyone else you want me to get in touch with?"

"Umm, do you know if my brother and sister know what's happened to me?"

"They do. They should both be at your parent's house by now from what I gathered when I visited."

"Okay, so mom or dad will let them know. I guess you should call Susan, and let her know that I'm alive but won't be in this week. On my fridge, there's a phone directory for everyone in my department. But first, call Heather. I don't want her to worry any longer. Call her right after mom and dad. And tell them all I'll have them over tomorrow, but I can't tonight. I'm…"

She didn't even know what she was. Tired, sore, depressed, hopeless, and angry. A combination of so many feelings and emotions coursed through her.

"I'll work it out. You get in bed, and I'll be back in when I'm done with these calls, okay?" she nodded. He continued, "I love you, darlin.'" and wrapped his arms around her, making her feel almost whole again.

"I love you." she replied. Holding back tears until he had left the room.

~~~~~~

Shane realized she hadn't brushed her teeth in…far too long. She donned her sleeping clothes and went into the bathroom again to complete a comprehensive oral hygiene routine.  Sy had been gone for about a half hour, during which time, his absence felt like a noose around her neck. Or an anvil on her chest. It made it feel like hours had passed rather than mere minutes. She was fidgety. When he finally re-entered, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do you need anything, sweet pea?"

"Just you."

Sy crawled under the covers with Shane to spoon her, arm laying over her rib cage. She winced, as the bruises on her torso were disturbed at the contact, but she didn't ask him to adjust. Despite the dull pain, this was what she needed. Sy's protecting arm around her.

"Did you get a hold of everyone?" She asked, sleepily.

"I did. Your family are eager to see you, but they understand your need for rest. Heather says that you better let her come over soon, because she's holding your phone hostage until you pay her in hugs. They all send their love."

"And Susan?"

"Yeah, that woman is a piece of work, I know, but I think she's going to come through for you. She's going to have them hold off on scheduling patients with you until you're better, and put both weeks in as vacation. She said you have plenty of it. But also, if you need more time, she can work out some…family medical leave…thing? She said she'd get the ball rolling on that, and will let you know what you need to do on your end."

"Oh, good. Yeah, she can be an asshole, but sometimes she does right by her employees. What about the detective?"

Sy paused there. "I, uh, I talked to him for quite a while and he said a lot of things. Let's go over the finer points tomorrow at breakfast. Or, rather, today." He said, looking at the blue numbers on the glowing digital clock on Shane's nightstand that indicated the wee hours of the morning were running out. "I'm sure we're both tired enough to grab a few winks, ain't we?" He asked, and she hummed her ascent as she tucked herself closer to his warm, monolithic chest.

As Shane drifted off, she thought she felt a warm kiss, and a whisper at her temple. It sounded like a tearful prayer. She was too far into her sleep to comprehend the words being said.

"Thank you God," Sy whispered. "I know I'm not your most faithful servant, but I am truly grateful that you've kept this treasure of mine alive and brought her back to me. Thank you for reuniting me with the woman I mean to spend the rest of my days with, if she'll agree to it. Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About Thirty Minutes Ago-

Sy left the bedroom and began scrolling through his phone for the Benton's number. He pressed the call button with joy.

"Sy?" John answered frantically, just as he did the first time Sy spoke to him.

"John, is everyone there?"

"Yeah, we're all just watching a movie in the family room. Do you have news?"

"I do. You may want to put me on speaker, because everybody's going to want to hear this."

"Okay." and after a brief struggle with the speaker button and help from two younger people Sy presumed were Ethan and Gabby, John was back with the whole family. "Okay, Sy, we can all hear you. What's the word?"

"Oh, it's a very good word, guys. I found Shane and she is alive, and now safe." Cheering from what sounded like a stadium full of fanatics resounded from the ear piece of his cell phone.

"Sy, this is Gabby, Shane's sister. Can we come see her now?" Gabby's tears were evident in her voice. He wished he could tell them yes. But Shane needed her rest.

"I know she would love to see you, Gabby, she'd love to see all of you, but I think what she needs right now is rest. She's been through…a terrible ordeal. I took her to the Emergency Room to get checked out, and she just had a bath and is about to go to bed. She'll want to see you all tomorrow, though. Maybe around lunch time?"

"That sounds good, Sy. We'll bring some of this food over." John said.

"Are you sure we can't come over tonight? I…I want to see my daughter with my own eyes." Margaret said, weepily.

"I truly wish I could tell you yes, Peg, but she's hardly slept the last week, and just had her first full meal since she was taken this evening at the hospital. I really think it's best for everyone if you guys wait until tomorrow when she's more herself and rested." Sy reiterated.

"What about the people who did this to her?" a male voice he didn't recognize asked, assured to be Ethan. "Any leads on them?" He wanted to tell them that most of the men had been dealt with using lethal or nearly lethal force, and that the perpetrator of Shane's misery was locked up in Matt's shop bathroom until they decided just how to take care of him. But he needed to disclose what he knew to as few people as possible.

"The less y'all know, the better. For your own good. At least right now. Just know that whatever justice has not yet been served, it will be very soon."

"That's good enough for me." John offered, in an apparent attempt to bring Ethan on side.

"Thanks, John. I'll take care of her tonight. I won't leave her side. I promise."

"Thank you, son." John replied. Sy appreciated the tender address, but wondered how Ethan felt about his father referring to someone else as his son. Probably not that great. He couldn't worry about that now.

"It's my sincerest pleasure. I want you to know that. She's my world now. I won't let anything else happen to her."

"We know, dear." Peg added.

"Good night. And we'll see y'all tomorrow."

Four incoherent replies rang out before he ended the call. Next was Heather.

"Hello?" she answered in sleepy confusion.

"Heather?"

"Who'sis?"

"It's Logan Syverson. Sy? From PT. Shane's boyfriend."

"Sy! Oh, it's good to hear from you! Any news?"

"The best news, darlin.' Our girl is alive, and home safe." he smiled ear to ear saying the words, but it quickly turned into a wince when Heather shouted for joy in his ear. It was fine. Not like he didn't already have mild tinnitus.

"Oh my GOD! I'm coming over right now!"

"No, Heather, she's resting. She told me she'll see people tomorrow, but I don't think anyone but you and her family should be allowed in right now. She's…well, she's been through seven levels of Hell, and when I look into her eyes, I can still see the fire."

"Shit. Anything I can do?"

"She'll be thrilled to see ya. But tomorrow."

"She better. I have her phone and the ransom is a thousand hugs."

"That's a steep debt." Sy chuckled.

"She can owe me for a while." Heather laughed. "Is she okay?"

What a loaded question. Physically, she was injured, but would heal. Emotionally, that would be more of a journey.

"Honestly, Heather? Not really. The physical stuff is more or less superficial, but…I'm worried about her mental state."

"Poor thing. Please let me know if I can do anything. Anything at all. She's like a sister to me."

"I will. For now, keep the news and the details quiet. I'm gonna call Susan next, and I don't think she'll like it if you know before she does. Just a hunch."

"An accurate one. She'd be furious. I'll keep mum. Thanks so much for putting my mind at ease, Sy. Take care of her."

"I'll do my best. See ya."

He was dreading talking to Susan the most. More than Clarkson. He couldn't quite pinpoint why, but she'd really pissed him off every other time he'd talked to her, and he really didn't think too much of her.

"Hello, this is Susan."

"Hey, Susan, it's Logan Syverson. Shane's boyfriend." He made sure to put the label in there. Remind her that her policy had not been enough to keep them apart.

"Mr. Syverson. Hello. What can I do for you?" her haughty tone was softened a measure with concern for her employee. Even though she didn't ask about her in so many words, he knew that she was wondering.

"Nothing. I just wanted to let ya know, Shane's okay. She's been hurt, and won't be in this coming week, at least. She's in some pain right now, of both a physical and emotional nature."

"What happened?"

"She, uh, hasn't given me a lot of details." Not a lie. "She just escaped from her captor and we found each other." Misleading, but mostly true. "We just got home from the ER." Perhaps a lie by omission of the stop off at Matt's. "They said she'd be okay, but to follow up with her primary for more tests."

"Okay, I'll make sure her schedule is cleared. She has plenty of PTO for these two weeks, but I'll call the FMLA office in charge of family medical leave and short term disability and let them know she'll need some more time off, and see if we can get that going. I'll get with her about the details, and what she'll need to do. I'll text her sometime this week. How's she doing?" Sy thought he heard genuine concern from this dragon woman.

"About as well as someone who's been kidnapped, tortured, and assaulted for a straight week can possibly be, I'd say." Sy's words were civil, but tinged with venom. Even though she was being decent right now, he knew the kind of person she could be.

"Dear God." Susan gasped, shocked at the statement, and Sy wasn't sure whether it was due to the events themselves, or the blunt way he'd told her about them. "Well, I'll do anything I can to help her though this on my end. She's one of my best. I can't…I really don't think I could replace her."

"I'm glad you don't have to try, Susan. Have a nice evenin.'"

"Thanks, Sy, you too."

Sy took a deep breath as he pulled up Clarkson's number and called him. He honestly wasn't completely certain how he was going to explain things, but he'd figure it out. He was good at flyin' by the seat of his pants.

A gruff voice came from the ear piece. "Clarkson."

"Detective, this is Captain Syverson. We spoke about the Benton case a few days ago?"

"I remember you, Sy. What's up?"

"Oh, uh, well, wanted to tell ya you could close the case. I found her." It was the coming conversation in which he would really have to bend the truth or lie altogether.

"Really?! Oh, that's great, man. Where'd ya find 'er."

"I's drivin' 'round, hopin' to come across some lead or sign of her. I was a few miles down highway 100 when I saw a slumped form in one of the ditches. I pulled off at the next drive and went back to check, and it was her. She was hurt, but once she recognized me…I dunno, everything's kind of a blur after that. But I got her checked out at the ER, and brought her home now." Most of that statement was false…but not the recount of them seeing each other for the first time. That was a very real and true fact.

"Highway 100?"

"That's right. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I heard about a terrible, two-vehicle accident on Highway D tonight. No survivors."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." He wasn't. "I hope there weren't any kids involved." He knew there weren't.

"Nope. All adult males, aged 30-40. Couple of SUVs. One ran off the road, and another…well, it's almost like it was blown up on purpose. Happened just a few miles from town."

"That sounds horrible, but what does an accident on Highway E--"

"It was D. Highway D." Sy knew it was, and had said the wrong thing on purpose.

"My mistake. My question though, is what does that…tragedy have to do with my finding Shane on Highway 100?"

"That's what I'm wondering, myself, Syverson. See, there was some…evidence that suggests military involvement in this incident."

"Well, I'm retired."

"Are you though?  Is anyone ever really retired from the armed forces. No veteran I've ever talked to can seem to shake off the war shackles."

"Well, I ain't shackeled, detective. I'm proud of my time serving my country, but I got no cause to relive it or hang on to it. Especially now that I have Shane. She's my life now. That part of it’s over."

"I guess I have to take you at your word, captain. Got no evidence so far that ties you to the scene. Just…be careful. If you do anything retaliatory to Miss Benton's captor or captors, I won't be able to protect you, no matter how I feel about your actions. Or how justified they might be."

"Understood. I will keep that in mind should I decide to take matters into my own hands." he tried not to let the smile on his face show in his voice.

"Right, well…is she okay?"

"I, uh…I think she will be…eventually. She hasn't said much to me about what happened, but I know it was torture, or akin to it. "

"Well, I hope she recovers quickly. I'll want a statement from her before I close the case."

"Sure thing. As soon as she's ready to talk."

"Great. Thanks for the call, Sy. I'm glad she's safe now. That's all that matters, really."

"Agree. Have a good night, Clarkson."

He ended the call and rubbed his face as head in frustration with his free hand. They'd have to come up with a story. A good one. Close enough to the truth that Shane could feel comfortable telling it, but far enough of a departure that they weren't incriminated in any kidnapping, murder, or manslaughter charges.

But for tonight, they’d rest. And just be glad to be together again.

Up Next: Chapter 20-Second Assist

[anika-ann]

Let’s Do Something Different Tonight (Or Not)

Type: One-shot, Reader Insert               Word count: 1840

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Characters: Matt Murdock, Reader, few others mentioned

Summary: It’s been two years since the day you married Matt and tonight, you’re going out to celebrate, like normal couples do. --Yeah, about that...

Warnings: blood and injury, mention of alcohol, attempt at humour (bordering on crack-ish)

A/N: A post Valentine’s day fic for everyone who has deals with loveable idiots. It’s hard to with them sometimes. Often, it’s even harder without them. Enjoy!

Matt was almost on time. You had your reservation for eight and it was five after eight when he finally showed up at his – and for a while now, also yours – apartment, so you would be able to make it to the restaurant only a little late.

Key word? ‘Would’. That would be if he hadn’t used the rooftop access instead of the front door and hadn’t been clutching his side when he stumbled in with his hair being a perfect mess with a smear of blood in it.

You stood in the middle of the living room, staring at him as he walked down the stairs with an apologizing expression.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” he said out, hissing as he stepped down the last stair with not so much grace. You just kept staring, this time incredulously. “I got mugged,” he explained, his lips turning into a reversed U. Also, blood was now soaking though his suit under his fingers.

You shook your head to snap yourself from your trance, reaching for the hem of your dress only to pull it over your head. When you tossed them over one of the armchairs and turned to Matt to give him the attention he deserved and needed, he looked utterly taken aback.

“What are you doing?” he asked, perfectly baffled.

“I’m not playing doctor with you in this dress. It’s new. I don’t want blood on it.”

It was expensive. You had chosen it carefully – just like the rest of your new clothes ever since you had gotten together with Matt –, paying extra attention to the material, anxious about the fabric feeling good under Matt’s fingers. Shopping had kinda become a nightmare since you had to pick clothes which not only looked good, but mainly felt good; however, with the way Matt appreciated it, it was totally worth it.

“The material sounded really soft. You looked beautiful in it.”

You scratched your forehead, abashed, as you walked to the bathroom to get the first aid kit, returning to Matt who seated himself on the couch, stripping his jacket to reveal a huge bloodstain on his shirt.

“Jesus, Matt.”

The man in question honest to god pouted. “You’ll wear that dress again, right?”

“Of course I will,” you reassured him tiredly as he took off the shirt as well. “That was the whole point of stripping it – keep it clean of bloodstains so I can wear it again…. for our like, thirtieth anniversary when you won’t be coming home bleeding anymore.”

“I had to let them cut me. I didn’t even call the police to make it home faster. I was trying-“

“I’m sorry, you what?” you asked incredulously, unable to believe what you were hearing.

“I was trying?” he repeated hesitantly, well-aware that it wasn’t the part that caught your… ear, so to speak.

“No, no, did you just say you let them cut you, didn’t call the police, so you could be home faster? Are you insane?”

“I didn’t want you to wait. We rarely get out for a dinner or something else. I didn’t want to disappoint you. Though I did come after the guys to chase down my wallet because that would mean a whole new set of time-demanding problems. But don’t worry, I crashed the lights before I went down on them,” he added hastily as if it would made the whole situation better.

You wordlessly let the gloves smack against your skin louder than necessary. Matt winced.

“Matt Murdock, I love you, I love what you’re willing to do for me and the world, but I swear to God, sometimes you’re just being utterly, utterly stupid. Priorities, Matt. Now show me.”

It turned out that Matt hadn’t let them cut him once, but twice. And by ‘cut’ he meant what could almost be called a stab wound. You silently worked your way through it, reminding yourself to buy Claire another fruit basket. A year supply of chocolate. Spa weekend, maybe. She had not only taught you the basics of the first aid to reckless loveable idiots, but also had shared her tips and tricks that she had discovered during the years of working on ER, making your life easier.

Matt was wisely silent while you were stitched him up – whether it was because he was controlling himself not to let out a single sound of distress or because he didn’t want to piss you off by saying something to make you snap, you didn’t know.

“Do you really think I prefer you getting home earlier so we wouldn’t miss our reservation coming with the price of you being injured to actually showing up healthy?” you asked as you finished your work of art.

His pout grew bigger, providing you the answer.

“Christ, Matt.”

“Well, I couldn’t exactly fight them off, at least not completely. Identity and stuff,” Matt defended his actions. You couldn’t shake off the feeling of something being a little strange about him. Like… stranger than usual. The way he talked…

“Well, you still didn’t need to get cut or— or at least you could have deflect it partly, this is awfully deep. Was. All done now.” Truth to your words, you stripped the gloves, rolling them up and placing them on the coffee table. You looked at his face, running your hand through his sweaty hair. He leaned into it slightly, like always. “Oh Matt… what do I do with a man like you?”

“Kiss the pain better?” he offered shyly, the corners of his lips twitching. You rolled your eyes at this ridiculous man.

“Ha! You’re hilarious!” His expression changed, transferring into- “Oh crap, not the puppy eyes. Come on, Matt, don’t-”

You sighed, leaning in, kissing him lightly on the lips. You were never able to resist the huge imploring eyes of his.

“I hate you,” you murmured as you withdrew – or wanted to, his lips following yours instead, sinking into them, caressing gently, testing your will when nibbling on your lower lip.

Oh, he always knew what to do to keep your fingers tingling, to have your heart fluttering – the feeling might have faded a little with the years, but it was still here. You opened your mouth for him, a clear invitation for his tongue. He didn’t hesitate.

“And I love you,” he breathed into your mouth, his hand rising.

“Don’t touch the bra-“ you warned him, curling your fingers around his wrist to stop him. You withdrew so it didn’t temp him. The bra wasn’t nearly as expensive as the dress, but it wasn’t cheap either.

“But it’s laced and they always feel so, so nice-“ he whimpered and you blinked. Okay, that was new. Seriously, where had his brain (possibly lower brain)-mouth filter left to?

“Maybe, but it’s also skin-toned. Not blood-toned. You smear it with blood and I’m not wearing it again.”

“But you said we were playing doctor,” he noted, looking honestly confused. You had really said that? And what the hell was it with him…?

You gaped at him when the realization finally hit you.

“Oh my god. Are you drunk?”

Matt was silent for a short moment; the kind of an answer that spoke volumes. Matt Murdock was drunk.

“…the client insisted on two glasses of scotch…,” Matt admitted with hesitation and you sensed some sort of a ‘but’ coming. “And then said the third time was a charm.”

Three glasses of scotch?!

“So you’re not only late for our anniversary dinner, you’ve not only gotten yourself half-stabbed, but you’re also drunk. Wow. I want a divorce,” you stated resolutely, only joking of course. Still, you couldn’t believe him. It should have been your night out. Together as a couple. To celebrate the two years you had been together as husband and wife. And he… wow. You probably should be mad, anyone else would be, but… you were kinda used to dealing with Matt’s bullshit (to be fair, Matt also had to deal with yours) and it was usually more scary and life-threatening. This was actually kinda funny. The drunk part anyway. “You think Foggy will charge me a fortune if I hire him?”

Matt frowned. “You don’t mean that. And if you did, do you honestly think he would represent you?”

You raised your eyebrow, waiting for him to realize what he had just said. Of course Foggy would represent you. You were plotting against Matt together oh so often… he would take your side. Matt probably came to same conclusion, because he grimaced.

“Yeah, he probably would. Well, would want to and then Marci would bully him so she could take your side instead of him.”

“I barely know Marci,” you noted, confused.

“Yeah, but she’s up to a challenge and she always claimed me and Foggy will get married one day and  was actually jealous of me. She would take any opportunity to take our duo down in one strike.”

“I thought Foggy was friends with her.”

“They are somewhere between friends and frenemies. I guess that happens when you end the whole friends with benefits thing.”

Huh. Marci was still bitter about that? Who would think Mrs. No Strings Attached had feelings? To be fair, Foggy was insanely likeable, so you could really blame her-

…why were you thinking about Marci?

“After all this time… you still manage to distract me perfectly,” you complained, actually ashamed. Damn you, Murdock. And Murdock.

Matt tilted his head slightly, challenging. “I know a whole lot more ways of distracting you. If I wash my hands, can I touch the bra? I mean, we’re already too late for the dinner, aren’t we?”

You watched him incredulously for a minute; his messy hair which was the result of him rushing home, his absolutely not kissable lips inconspicuously pursed, his hopeful eyes with a spark of mischievousness somehow seeing you even after losing sight. Your gaze flickered to the fine suit he had prepared for the dinner. It was too late to go to the restaurant, wasn’t it?

When you looked back at him, you could tell he knew he had won, because a tiny smile appeared on his face, a careful elevation of the corners of his lips.

You sighed. You were so weak. “Go wash your bloody hands, you overgrown child. We’re going to bed.”

“Love you,” he chipped happily and kissed your cheek, rushing to the bathroom. You rolled your eyes at him fondly.

“I’m on top, you’re injured!” you shouted after him, closing the box with medical supplies and walking to the fridge to get Matt a glass of juice. He needed liquids and sugar dammit.

“Whatever you say, honey!”

You blinked, taken aback. ‘Honey?’ Matt had never called you that – mostly he stuck to your name or a nickname, occasionally calling you ‘love’ if he was being particularly tender. Endearments weren’t his thing.

Oh boy, he really was so royally drunk, wasn’t he?

You smiled for yourself at the idea. This should be fun.

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Thank you for reading! 

If you enjoy Matt fics, I’ll be posting a few more RI, but mostly I’ve written for Matt x OFC. 

If interested, check out my M.M. masterlist ;)

[brieannakeogh]

Dog Days of Summer- Ch 12

Dog Days of Summer- Chris Evans X plus sized reader. Dog days of summer are usually defined as the hottest of the year, some define it as lazy days. This year ‘hottest’ has nothing to do with the outside temp. You meet Chris and Dodger Evans while taking your own dog to the park.

Previous Chapter / Master List

Warnings: No warnings. 

Chapter 12

On the way home you called the store and let them know about the cart in the middle of the aisle, apologizing for the abruptness. The rest of the time you stewed. You knew he had your best interests at heart, and if he had fessed up right after you don’t think you would have been so mad about it, but he hadn’t said a word. If you hadn’t ran into Matt would he ever have told you? He can’t just hide painful truths from you, especially because you hadn’t even known him that long. If he overstepped that much after just a couple of weeks, what would he do after six months? Would he try to hide things that happen on set or while he was away? You were done with being lied to and you really wanted to believe it was a one time thing, but really everything had moved so fast. Did you even really know this person aside from the interviews and things you’ve seen online? How much of feeling like you’ve known him forever and trust in him is from what you knew before, or the real person sitting beside you? 

Chris touched the back of your hand, pulling you from your thoughts. Looking out to your apartment, you couldn’t be sure if it was relief or dread that the drive was so quick. He interlocked your fingers to bring your attention to your joined hands instead of out the window. “Sweetheart I’m so sorry. I knew that I shouldn’t have done it, or at least told you, but I didn’t want you to be hurt again. I had just gotten you calm and in the bath.” 

“I know Chris.” Your focus still on your hands, his thumb running softly over your fingers. “The problem is, a lie of omission is still a lie and I promised myself after Matt I would never tolerate someone lying to me again. I just wish you had told me.” You release his hand. “Let’s go get Dodger.” 

Chris is quiet until the elevator ride up. “Does that mean I’m not welcome?” 

“God no Chris!” You turn to him, wanting to hug him but knowing you can’t right now. “I just need a little time and some space to myself.” The elevator doors open and you step out into the hallway, fiddling with your keys by the door. “Can you give me until Monday? That gives me the weekend to wrap my head around this. I really like you Chris, but I’ve got to figure out if I can trust this will be a one time thing.” 

He nodded and you unlocked the door. The happy dogs sensing the mood, quickly calmed down. He leashed up Dodger while you held Popcorn to your chest. It hurt watching him go, but it’s the only way you could think clearly. 

“Can I ask you something?” Chris turned back to you at the door. You nod. “In a relationship, what is the one most important thing for you?” That wasn’t the question you expected after your first fight, it was like a first date getting-to-know-you thing. 

Lifting Popcorn up to your face, wanting to hide behind him you answered. “A year ago my answer would be loyalty, but it’s changed. I’ve changed. Now? Honesty, brutal honesty.” 

“So for example, not that it would happen, but say I cheat. Fuck some rando girl after being away on set for 6 months. Even after all he put you through, you would be willing to forgive me if I was honest with you about it?” He sounded incredulous, but you nodded all the same. 

“I wouldn’t be happy, but if we talked about it and came to an understanding, yeah I would.” 

“I think you already know mine is loyalty.” 

“Yeah, I know. Loyalty and trust.” 

He turned back to the door, opening it. “Talk to you on Monday.” He said over his shoulder going down the hall to the elevator, not looking back at you even as the doors were closing.

You cried yourself to sleep that night. Popcorn wasn’t happy about how clingy you were being, constantly trying to wriggle away, but you just held on tighter until he gave up. Only when he started making noises of protest did you let him go his own way, calling him a traitor as he slinked down to the foot of the bed. It surprised you just how much it hurt after such a short amount of time. Finding out Matt was cheating on you wasn’t even this bad, you were just enraged at that. This you couldn’t even be really mad about what Chris did. You still didn’t like it, but understood his reasoning. Honestly you couldn’t wait until Monday and it scared you how strong you were feeling about that. 

The next morning you woke up groggy, lonely and with a splitting headache from crying all last night. You went back to the little boring routine you had before Chris barreled into your life. It’s funny, nothing you and Chris did together was really what you would call exciting, but it was just more fun than laying around alone. Aggravated with yourself for thinking about him and missing him every minute wasn’t helping. What you needed was a distraction.

Online you look through different job websites, picking out positions that are near you and sound like something you would be hired for. You spent the rest of the afternoon filling out applications and sending out resumes. That night you had fitful dreams about paperwork chasing you and being labeled a psycho on the online personality tests. 

Waking up again dog tired, you were coming to the realization that you might have to beg him for forgiveness just so you could get a good night's rest in his warm bed. It had only been a day and a half and you realize how attached you were to him. That was not a good sign for the days ahead, you didn’t know if you’d be able to handle him being gone frequently. 

You spent the morning and afternoon checking your email for any response to your resume, answering the ones that did and setting up a few interview times. You kept glancing at your phone as you worked, debating if you should end the shut out early. Clearly your decision to forgive him had been made, now you were just hurting yourself and possibly him. If you called him early, would he think you were weak? That had been your issue with Matt. You had been a doormat and he took advantage of it. No, Chris wasn’t like that. You’d known that from the conversation on the bench at the park. If you close your eyes you can still feel the breeze and the warmth of his shoulder on your cheek. That felt like months ago when it had only been a few short days. 

Mind made up you grab your cell phone. Looking at the time you remember that it was Friday and he was supposed to go out with friends tonight. On the one hand you wanted to tell him as soon as possible so he could have a good night, but you also didn’t want to disturb him. As you were fiddling with your phone, trying to decide what to do, there was a knock at the door. 

Your whole body stiffened since there were only two people that could have gotten past the lobby door, Chris or Matt. Neither were expected and you weren’t sure which you were more nervous to be on the other side, for completely different reasons. 

Another bang, bang, bang came through, sounding more like a fist then knuckles. Popcorn started to bark and ran over, trying to be as intimidating as a small chihuahua could be. 

You walk over and try to look through the peephole, but you can’t see anything, just the wall across the way. So you shout through it. “Who is it?” 

“It’s me.” 

Your heart jumped back in your chest but kept the quick pace. Your mind flashing to a couple of weeks ago when that same voice stood outside your door. 

Hand already moving to unlock and open the door, even with your brows drawn up in confusion. “Chris?” The smell of alcohol hit you first when you got the door barely cracked open. His appearance looked like normal, hair styled, clothes in place, but he was leaning heavily on your doorway and swaying a little.  “Oh God, Chris how much did you drink? You didn’t drive here did you?” Trying and failing to look around him to see if someone carried him up to your door. 

“No they rolled past and kicked me out of the car. Said they were tired of hearing me talk about you and to just make up already.” 

You snort out a laugh. “Good friends.” 

“I said you wouldn’t see me until Monday, but they didn’t listen.” He stared at you for a beat. “Hey you did open the door!” A look of surprise filters over his face. 

“Yes I did and now I’m going to tell you to come in here.” You tug at his arm, pulling him over the threshold enough to close the door. Steering him to the couch and making him sit, you go to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee and grab a glass of water. It’s not long before he stumbles from the couch to the kitchen. Turning off the sink faucet you thrust the glass of water under his nose. “Here, drink this, and I don’t remember telling you that you could get up.” 

He takes the glass and finishes it in three gulps. “Why do I have to stay on the couch?” 

“Because you are drunk and can barely stand on your own two feet. I don’t want you falling and getting a concussion.” 

“But I missed you!” He says with a grin, flinging his arms around you. 

Patting him on the back. “I missed you too.” 

“Did you? You’re not mad anymore?” He mumbled into your neck. He had started to lean more weight onto you then you were comfortable with but you braced your legs and held him up. 

“No I’m not mad, I was actually just about to call you when you showed up.” 

“Really?” He pulled back, swaying a little, his face lit up like Christmas and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Yes really. I still want to talk about it, but I forgive you.” 

“No, no, no. Less talk, more kissing.” He leans in and you put a hand over his face laughing at his excitement. 

“Go sit, I’ll bring you some coffee.” 

“Ugggg.” he whines and flops face first on your couch.

When you come back with a cup of joe, you find him snoring softly into the couch cushions. Setting the mug down, you move his head so he could at least breath properly and grab a throw off the back of the couch to cover him. His feet still stick out, so you go and get a comforter off the bed and switch it out with the throw for yourself. 

With your hands on your hips you shake your head at the passed out form and quietly begin to lock up. Changing into pjs and climbing into bed with the throw, you turn out the last light and fall asleep yourself. You feel the bed dip and look over to see Chris crawling in, wrapped up like a burrito in your comforter. Giving him a warm smile to let him know it’s ok, he moves in and covers you both up, pulling you against his chest. The bedside clock says 3am, you had only been asleep for a few hours, but he seemed a bit more sober than before. 

“I missed you.” He breathed into your neck. 

You reach back and pet his head. “I know, you already told me once tonight. I missed you too.” 

“I didn’t know where I was at first when I woke up. Popcorn decided to lay on me and it startled me awake. Not use to a small thing jumping up on me.” 

“What about Dodger? Will he be ok for the night?” 

“I called my doorman, he said he would take him out to the bathroom tonight and in the morning.”  He buried his face into your neck. “I’m sorry.” His voice rumbled into your skin. 

You tighten your arms around his that are wrapped around you. “I know. I’m sorry too.” 

He sat up a bit and turned you to be able to see your face. “What for?” 

“I overreacted. I had the right to be mad but I went too far. I think some of it was how I’ve been treated in the past, but you’re not them and are allowed to make your own mistakes without me putting their leftover baggage on you.” Lifting a hand out of the covers you put it against his cheek, hoping to show him how much you missed him. He leaned down and slid his lips over yours, sealing them together for a sweet kiss that let you know you were forgiven too. “Still want to date the crazy woman?” 

“As long as you can put up with my fanbase and anxiety, I can deal with your level of crazy, which is pretty much average. You’re way more sane then some of the women I’ve dated.”

Before you can ask about the number of crazy women he’s dated, he’s already back claiming your mouth. Rolling you to your back, you can feel him press against your side, his cock straining against your hip. It brings up all sorts of pleasant memories, but also another. “I distinctly remember saying there would be no booty calls on Friday.” You mumble into his mouth. 

“I didn’t call, so it doesn’t count. Besides, we just made up from our first fight, I think we deserve makeup sex.”

“I think we need to get some sleep and for you to sober up.” 

“I’m sober. Perfectly sober.” He replied with mock indignation.

“If that was true you’d have a splitting headache.” Even in the darkness of the room you could see his lip poke out in a pout, which just confirmed your suspicions.  “How about a counter offer of morning sex and a big greasy breakfast when we get up?” 

“Fine, but I only want to leave the bed tomorrow for food and to take the dog out.” 

Your hand runs down his back as he snuggles back up to you, his head being pillowed by your chest. “I think that is one of your best ideas yet.” 

After a bit of cuddling, you both get comfortable and start to drift off. You’re teetering right on the edge of sleep when his voice interrupts the quiet night. “I got my schedule. I’m leaving next week.” If you had been any further into sleep you never would have heard him, as it is you grow very still. You thought you had more time than this and it felt like cold water thrown on you. 

“Next week?” 

“Thursday.” 

Swallowing down the breath you were holding, relieved it was at least the end of the week. Trying to pull as much cheerfulness into your voice as you can muster, you turn to him. “Sounds like we need pack a lot into this week. I think we can do it though, we just need to get organized and schedule out a plan of attack. You might need to do that because I suck at it. I figure we need to have sex, eat, have more sex, sleep, eat, take the dogs out at some point and just continue that cycle the rest of the week. Maybe also talk about the best way to stay in contact while you’re gone too, but that can be…” You were cut off by his mouth on yours. Even in the moonlight his eyes were bright and hopeful. 

“So no thought about kicking me out?” He pulled away just enough to talk, but his grip on your hip was tight. 

“Never for this, it’s your passion. Plus I quite enjoy watching your movies, but I think we established that.” 

“Yes, obsessive fangirl if I recall correctly.” 

You smack his arm. “I wouldn’t go that far.” 

“Now it’s abusive fangirl.” He grumbles as he rubs the spot on his arm. 

“Ya big baby. Go to sleep or I won’t take you out for breakfast.” 

“Threatening to cancel breakfast and not morning sex?”

“That would be more of a punishment for me, not you.” You peck his jawline and snuggle closer, burying your face in his neck this time. Letting out a sigh as he rubs your back. “We can do this right? I mean you’ve done it before?” 

“Yes, but if one of them worked out I wouldn’t be single right now. Ow!” 

“You’re not single right now.” The teeth marks on his shoulder still visible. 

“You know what I meant. You’re very violent when I’m drunk.” 

“So you admit it!” You start giggling as he protests. “Nope you said it, so go to sleep.” 

“Fine, but next time you drink too much I’m going to bite you back.” 

“Promises, promises.” The words rumbled into his neck as he chuckles. Soon you’re both fast asleep, but you’re dreams aren’t in any less turmoil then when you slept alone. Only this time you were chasing him, never quite able to keep up. 

Next Chapter

Only took a month to update this. Sorry about that. Hopefully it was worth the wait. 

Thank you everyone that still keeps up with my blog!

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