#there's a joke in here somewhere about daddy issues

[queerweewoo]

pov man absolutely prepared to rain down hell fire on heaven and earth for his beloved

[mauvecardigans]

finally got so sick of having long hair that i cut a bunch of it off last night

unfortunately, this has left me with The Robby Keene

[katebishopsbow]

SOMEDAY IT WILL ALL BE OKAY • MAX VERSTAPPEN

pairing: max verstappen x driver!reader (platonic)

summary: watching kevin and his daughter, laura, playing together at the paddock makes you emotional as you remember the love that you never get to receive growing up. max is here to remind you that your past doesn't define you, and one day you will be okay.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, daddy issues, mentions of absent parent

word count: 3.1k

author's notes: based on the real-life event of me tearing up when i saw that video of kmag's daughter playing with his visor. healing my own daddy issues one fic at a time :)

(image is not mine)

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

Kevin Magnussen is a great dad.

People can say whatever they want about his driving – aggressive and maybe a little dangerous sometimes – but there is no denying that he is an amazing father who puts his daughters above all else. The Dane is always joking about how his two little troublemakers have been giving him a constant headache, but the rest of the grid knows that he would do just about anything for his girls.

Occasionally, Louise likes bringing Laura and Agnes to the track to see their dad at work. Being a Formula 1 driver with all the hectic schedules and non-stop traveling means that family time together can often be difficult to come by, so Kevin cherishes all the time he gets to be as present in their lives as possible. 

The drivers all love it when the Magnussens visit the track, not only because Laura and Agnes are the sweetest little angels ever, but also because they get to witness the rare sight of Kevin “tough guy” Magnussen shedding his hard exterior and tease him about the heartwarmingly softer side he displays to his family. 

And while you would never admit this out loud, somewhere residing deep within you is envious – envious of this kind of love that you never got to receive. Sometimes when you look at Kevin interacting with his daughters – just sometimes – you find yourself wondering what it would be like to have a father who is present, who genuinely cares, who loves you with everything they have so much that you never have to doubt your worthiness.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You were standing with a few other drivers at the track, idly chatting about the upcoming race and your holiday plans now that the winter break is right around the corner when Kevin suddenly saunters nearby, holding the hand of the most adorable little girl. “Laura, come say hi!” he kneels down and says to her, sporting the biggest and most loving smile on his face as his daughter gives a shy little wave to the crowd of drivers before her.

“Hey there, Laura,” you wave at her, settling on a simple greeting since you have never been particularly great with children. “Hello, little one!” Lando greets with a wide grin as he offers Laura a fist bump, and the girl explodes into giggles when he pretends to yelp in pain at how hard Laura fist-bumped him. Classic Lando – always so good with kids.

“She’s got quite the punch, doesn’t she?” Kevin jokes while he chuckles at the sight, admiring the joyous smile on Laura’s face with the tenderest gaze he only reserves for his daughter. Becoming a father is the best thing that has happened to him, and he thanks the stars every day for being blessed with such precious gifts of life. Laura and Agnes – his biggest pride and joy.

“Here to be dad’s little assistant, Laura?” Max asks, his nose scrunching up in an adoring smile like the way it always does when he speaks to Penelope. The little girl nods bashfully before running to hide behind her dad, holding onto his hands as if he is her safe place, her rock.

Kevin laughs at his daughter’s endearing shyness, picks her up and envelops her in his embrace before placing a kiss on her rosy, chubby cheeks. “You’re the best assistant in the entire world,” he whispers softly, adoration swimming in his eyes while Laura lets out a giggle at her father’s words. The drivers around them cannot help but smile along with them – how can they not at such a heartwarming sight? 

Yet watching Kevin’s doting smiles and the way he looks at his daughter as if she is his entire universe, the initial warm fuzziness within you silently morphs into a dull ache that squeezes at your heart – an odd yet familiar feeling you know all too well. Despite your best efforts to push them away, your mind becomes clouded with hazy memories of the past – the painful past that has broken you and haunted you for years.

In the fogged-up memories of your childhood days, you were never at the receiving end of such an affectionate gaze. The only way your father has ever looked at you was indifference, annoyance, and a sense of uncaringness that tore your little heart up into pieces and left you wondering what you did wrong to be so undeserving of the fatherly love you yearned for. 

He never picked you up and hugged you as if you were a fragile treasure that he cherished. He never held your hand in a way that made you feel safe and certain that nothing could ever harm you because he would be your shield, protecting you from the world and its merciless cruelty. He never once made you feel loved and cared for, ignoring your attempts to gain his validation and approval because he loved himself and his ego more than he would ever love you. 

When you received good grades at school and showed him your report card with the rows of A’s, hoping that it would help you get his approval, he didn’t praise you. In fact, he didn’t bother saying anything. He simply gave you a half-hearted nod before shifting his attention back to the damned television screen in front of him, some uninteresting TV show that never should have mattered more than his daughter. So you stuffed the tear-stained report card back into your school bag, uncaring that it got crushed and crumpled, because in the end your hard work and effort didn’t matter. It never did.

When you had a rough day at school and came home with tears running down your cheeks, your father looked at you for a second, rolled his eyes and walked away. So that night you cried yourself to sleep as you soaked through your pillows with your wallowing tears, wishing that your dad could wrap you in his arms and tell you that everything would be okay. You knew that he could hear your sobs across the hallway, but chose to ignore you anyway. You wondered if he hated you that much, or was it simply because he never even cared to begin with?

And when he finally gathered all his belongings and disappeared from your life once and for all, you surprised yourself when you didn’t cry at the sight of the now-empty house. You had just felt empty and lonely – so painstakingly lonely. The kind of loneliness that seeped into your bones and slithered along your veins and consumed your soul. 

As you grew older, you became familiarized with that emptiness – comfortable with it even. You begin to find yourself pushing people away when they get too close, keeping most at arm's length because that seems like the safest option, breaking your own heart before others can do it because you never want to experience the same heartbreak your father has put you through.

Despite how painful it is, you hold onto that loneliness like a lifeline because how could you not when that’s the only thing you know? How could you love when you don’t even know what it feels like?

Even though it had been years since your dad had left, the emptiness he had left behind never seemed to fade away. They say time heals all wounds, but you call that bullshit, because then why does it still hurt like a fresh stab into the heart? 

Too deep in your storm of thoughts, you don’t realize the tears brimming in your glossy eyes and the way your lips quiver ever so slightly. “Hey… you okay there?” Charles, who is standing beside you, gives you an affectionate pat on the shoulders and whispers hushedly in your ear, worried at your sudden change in demeanor. Quickly nodding your head, you answer him with the best smile you can manage, “Yeah, just remembering some things.”

While most of the drivers still have their focus on Kevin and Laura, a few have also noticed your red-rimmed eyes and quietness. “What’s wrong?” Lando mouths the question silently toward you, eyes wide in concern as he tries not to shift everybody’s attention toward you. You shake your head and mouth “nothing” in reply to him as discreetly as possible, not wanting to ruin the group’s mood with your sudden sentiments. 

As much as you want to stay, you simply need to get away for a moment to recollect your thoughts. “Uh – There’s something I need from my driver’s room, so I’m gonna head off,” you hurriedly blink away the tears and put on the best smile – a skill you learned to master after years of being in the public’s eye. You hope that the excuse you just blurted out is somewhat believable, and you quickly disappear into the distance after your fellow drivers bid you goodbye. 

While making a beeline for your driver's room, you cannot help but feel so embarrassed, so guilty for the sudden burst of emotions that erupted in your chest moments ago. “What is wrong with me?” you mumble hushedly to yourself as you make your way to the garage – irritated and beyond annoyed at yourself that the mere sight of Kevin with his daughter is enough to bring you to tears. 

This isn’t something new to you. It isn’t the first time a good father-daughter relationship has made you tear up. Movies, TV shows, song lyrics – you always get so emotional when you allow yourself to get lost in your thoughts, thinking too deeply about the painful reminders of the love that you never have. 

It makes you feel stupid, because how broken do you have to be that trivial things like these are enough to make you cry? And it makes you feel scared, so utterly scared, because what if you were too broken to ever be capable of loving someone this much, too damaged to ever receive love despite yearning for it, and end up pushing away everyone who cares about you for the rest of your life.

When you arrive at your driver's room, you take a seat in the corner, breathing in and out while the self-blaming thoughts inside your head spiral in full force. This is so stupid, you are being stupid, and you hate yourself for being a fool and letting your past trauma affect you like this. Why were you even crying? There is nothing to be crying for. Stop. You need to stop.

Then you hear someone calling your name, voice faint and soft behind the door – Max. “You feeling okay?” he asks, and your delayed response and trembling voice as you answer him, “I’m fine.” are a clear enough indicator that you are far from okay. “Alright, I’m gonna come in now.” A sigh of mixed emotions falls from your lips – annoyance that you never seem to be able to lie to the man, and gratefulness that he always understands what you really need, and right now it is the company of your best friend.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says to you, eyebrows ceasing in sadness when he notices the expression on your face. Max hates seeing you like this, especially knowing the reason behind your tears is your absent father – someone who will never be worthy of having you cry over him. 

You wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your race suit, guilt weighing heavily on your chest as you apologize, “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to ruin the mood back there. Did the other drivers notice?” Max shakes his head with a frown, refusing to let you blame yourself for something you should never feel guilty for. “You don’t have to be sorry, you did nothing wrong.”

“I don’t even know why I am crying, honestly. Why am I still so angry and sad after all these years? It’s like… am I always going to be like this, broken? Will the hurt ever go away?” you explain truthfully to him while trying to piece your muddle-up thoughts together, yet you struggle to put them into words. How can you begin to explain the years of trauma your dad has left behind? How can you describe the mess of emotions you have for him – the hatred, the resentment, and the fact that you still love and miss him so much even after everything he has done to you?

You don’t need to, because Max understands, he always does. One of the reasons why you two became close quickly is because you share a similar, troubled past – something that is rather unfortunate to bond over, you would argue, but it brings you a great friend nonetheless. Max’s father isn’t exactly absent like yours – Jos Verstappen is still quite prominent in his life, along with his abusive and manipulative ways of raising his kids which he would vehemently deny and claims to be “tough love” instead.

Even though he is there, it doesn’t change the painful truth that the presence of his father has ruined Max. For years, he thought being violent was the way to solve problems because his dad always seemed to be able to solve his with his fist. He used to believe that you had to be perfect to be deserving of good things in life because he grew up with the punishment of “no dinner” if he had performed poorly in a race. He didn’t know if he would ever be capable of loving someone, and then he met Kelly and Penelope.

“You know… when I first met Penelope, I was terrified. I was scared that I could never be a good enough father figure for her, that I was too ruined to show her the love she deserved to have. But then I saw her, and then I realized I love her more than anything,” he confesses as he places himself to sit beside you, a reminiscent smile dancing on his lips while he remembers his first time meeting Penelope, the little girl who has become his family.

He remembers the suffocating fear of ending up like his father when he first held the hands of little Penelope, mind plagued with all the horrible what-ifs. What if he was a terrible dad? What if he couldn’t ever love Penelope? What if he was just like Jos Verstappen and ended up destroying her childhood with his anger and temper the way his dad had with his?

Then Penelope gave him a sweet smile, her tiny hand holding onto his pinky as she looked into his eyes with such trust and comfort, as if she knew that Max would love her more than anything in the world. Max genuinely thought he was going to cry, his heart surging with an overwhelming amount of love and determination to protect the little girl in front of her and give her the home she and Kelly deserve to have, and that’s when he knew that he had nothing to be afraid of – that he was going to do better than his father.

“Listen, kiddo. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, it just makes the pain bearable. But there will be a day when your wound will still be there – it always will be there – but the pain and the hatred will no longer consume you. And you will realize that you can be better and stronger than your past, that you can break the cycle, that you are deserving of such unconditional love too.” You listen quietly to your best friend’s answer, exhaling a relieved sigh at the words you so desperately need to hear, giving you hope that despite all your trauma, one day you will be able to love with such certainty as well.

You are never too broken to love or be loved. You are not damaged goods that need repairing. You are not a monster for being intimidated by love and affection, for pushing people away even though you want more than anything for them to stay. You just need to allow yourself to heal from the hurtful past, to understand that your past trauma does not define you. You need to allow yourself to feel, to accept the depths of your emotions, to understand that your sadness and anger are always valid. You need to believe that you will be better than your father, that you will not follow in his footsteps, and that you deserve to be loved just as much as anyone else. 

Feeling sentimental over this doesn’t make you stupid or a fool, it just makes you human. It is okay to cry over it, to be sad over it, as long as you remember that one day – while things will never be perfect –  it will certainly get better. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” Max tells you with a smile, reaching for your hand to give it a comforting squeeze, and you believe him. For once in a very long time, you genuinely believe that everything is going to be okay. The impact your father has on you will always be there. You can never wipe away the hurt and awful things he has done to you, nor can you simply erase the simultaneous love and hatred you hold for him, but one day you will learn to move on and find closure, and you are going to be okay, just like Max said.

There is a knock on the door, and you can hear your name being called again, this time in the soft and squeaky voice of a little girl. “I’m here,” you answer, and peeking behind the gap in the door is Laura with a cheeky grin on her face. Kevin leads her inside your driver's room with an apologetic smile, “Hey, sorry… Laura says she wants to play with you and insists that I bring her here.” 

You watch as Laura crawls up into the seat next to you and Max, looking at you with the brightest toothy little grin ever, and your lips begin pulling up into a huge smile as well. “Is it okay if she plays here for a while? I’ve got a team meeting in 5 and she never likes coming to those…” Kevin asks apologetically before relief floods his expression when you answer him, “It would be lovely to have a little playdate with Laura.”

“Alrighty, see you later little one,” Kevin leans down to place a kiss on his daughter’s head, reminding her to be a good kid when he is away for the meeting, and you smile at the sight. Not an envious one, or a reminiscent one, but one of contentment because you know that one day you will be able to receive and give such unconditional love to someone too.

Someday, it will be okay. You will be okay.

[ordinary-barbie]

give me more than just butterflies. jean x reader

summary: you and Jean have been dating for a few months now and you’re thinking about how good a dad he would be someday. maybe, just maybe… title is from "juno" by sabrina carpenter.

tags: jean x fem!reader, mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff, oral (m and f receiving), pet names (babe and baby), slight breeding/pregnancy kink, jean and reader are in their late 20s here

minors and ageless DNI! 18+ only, please.

Dating Jean Kirstein made you feel like you'd won the lottery.

Obviously, he was an absolute dreamboat looks-wise. You loved his tall, muscular build, soft ash-brown hair and light brown eyes, not to mention a smile that could rival the sun in wattage. In another life, he could make a killing as an Abercrombie model.

However, it's his personality that really made you fall for him. He's impossibly sweet and kind yet has a strong sarcastic streak you love. He adores you, of course, but also loves his friends (even though Sasha and Connie in particular drive him nuts sometimes) and would do anything for his mama. Of course Jean wasn't perfect; he had his flaws, but when it comes to boyfriends, you couldn't see how you could do any better.

You and Jean had been dating for almost a year now. You'd met him through Hinge; dating apps had always seemed a bit scary to you, but one of your best friends convinced you to put yourself out there. You were charmed by his witty answers to his profile prompts and very attracted to his pictures. It turned out that he was utterly charming even through text, and after one date at a local Italian restaurant Jean adored, you were absolutely smitten (and the feeling was mutual). The two of you have been dating for nine months now, in absolute bliss.

Life was good right now, but your mind couldn't help drifting to thoughts of the future, especially after you and Jean went to see his best friend Marco's new baby boy. Callum was an absolute cutie, with his dad's dark brown hair and nose but his mom's bright blue eyes.

"Hey babe, could you get a pic of me with Cal?" Jean asked. He had Callum perfectly cradled in his arms and you just about melted at the sight. Jean looked so at peace holding the baby, like this was second nature to him. You quickly took your phone out of your pocket and took a candid snap of your boyfriend lovingly gazing at the baby, then another one where he looked directly at the camera, smiling softly.

Jean passed Callum back to Marco's wife Adelaide, then peeked over your shoulder to see the photos you took. "These are perfect," he said, beaming. "Thanks, baby."

Marco and Adelaide hurried over to see the photos and "aww"ed over them, making Jean's cheeks flush with pink. "It's amazing how much the guy who used to shotgun whipped cream in high school looks like a dad here," Marco joked.

You snickered, but after the laughter subsided, you couldn't help but agree with Marco. Jean looked so comfortable with Callum; if anyone didn't know any better, they'd think Jean was posing with his own son.

The image of Jean holding Marco's son stayed in your mind for days after that visit. You'd been on the fence about having kids, not sure if you wanted to go through the whole ordeal of pregnancy or if you'd even make a halfway-decent mother. But seeing Jean cradling a baby had stirred a desire in you. Maybe having a kid wouldn't be so bad...especially if it was with Jean.

You were nowhere near ready to have a kid right now, but the idea of having a baby with Jean somewhere down the line was sounding more and more appealing. Jean was pretty much the hottest person alive, and it would be cool if some baby was lucky enough to get some of his genes. The only issue was actually telling your desired baby daddy. What if he got scared off by you already dreaming of having kids with him? You hadn't even been together for a year yet. You decided to squash that dream of yours for the moment, not wanting to freak him out.

You were in bliss. Jean had come over to watch Howl's Moving Castle ("It's a crime that you haven't seen it!" you insisted), but as soon as the credits started rolling, he'd pulled you onto his lap and pressed soft, slow kisses to your neck. You sighed, happily, grinding yourself against Jean and making him gasp.

"Babe, watch it," he spoke in a strained voice. "If you keep doing that, I'm gonna go crazy, and I don't think I have a condom with me."

You were so horny you couldn't think straight. "I don't care, you can finish inside me," you blurted out.

Jean flushed bright red, saying your name with a gasp. "Um, while I would love to do that, I'm not tryin' to get you pregnant right now. I know you're on the pill, but better safe than sorry, you know?"

Jean's words tugged at your heartstrings. What a man! He could be so anxious when it came to sex at times, but you knew it was because he deeply cared for you and wanted to make sure you were happy and safe. And he was right; this would not be the right time to have a baby.

Your hidden thought popped back into your head. Fuck it, why not just tell him? He'd given you the perfect opening. "I appreciate that, Jean. But one day I do want to have kids with you. I don't know when, but I've been thinking about this for a while, and I want you to make me a mom."

When Jean stayed silent for a few moments, you got nervous. Then his eyes started to well up with tears. "Babe, are - are you sure this is what you want? I mean, I'm so down for this, but I know when we first started dating, you were on the fence about children."

You were so relieved that your irrational fears about Jean's reaction hadn't played out. "Yes, I'm sure. I've been sure ever since that day two weeks ago when we met Marco's baby and I took those pictures of you holding him," you answered, your voice shaking with emotion. "I know we haven't even been together a year yet and maybe this is too soon to be talking about this but - I want it. A house and a family, with you."

Jean wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, and peppered your face with kisses. "Babe, I love you so much. I wouldn't want to start a family with anyone else."

"Well I should certainly hope not," you joked, needing to lighten up the moment a little bit. Jean laughed before burying his face into the side of your neck and nuzzling you.

It was a tender moment, interrupted by a particular something poking you in the side. "Jean. Did you really get hard because I told you I want to have your babies one day?" You couldn't help but giggle.

Jean lifted his head from your neck, looking sheepish. "I'm sorry babe. I just pictured you being pregnant and...I guess I got excited."

You lightly punched your boyfriend in the arm, pretending to be scandalized. "Jean Kirstein, you are a pervert!" You couldn't lie that it was a little bit hot that he would still find your pregnant body desirable, to be honest.

Jean smirked at you. "Can't help it. You're gonna be the hottest mom in the neighborhood, baby."

Zing. Jean's words went straight to your core. You lifted yourself off of his lap and sank down to your knees on the floor, looking for permission before you unbuttoned your boyfriend's pants.

"Babe, what are you doing?" he questioned with a chuckle, though there was a dark glint in his eye.

"Well, I was thinking, if we can't have sex right now, we can still do...other stuff. And I figured I’d help take care of your little problem.” You flashed him a coy smile.

Jean groaned before unbuttoning his pants and letting you take his length into your mouth. He moaned your name, looking like he was trying not to bust a nut right then and there.

"What did I do to deserve someone as amazing as you?" Jean asked, his eyes shut with pleasure as you sucked him off and fondled his balls. You giggled before pulling your mouth off of him and kissed the tip of his dick, causing Jean to let out a guttural growl.

Before you could return to your blowjob, Jean had joined you on the floor, capturing your lips in a deep kiss before smooching his way down your body.

It was your turn to ask, "Babe, what are you doing?" Even though you knew damn well what was about to happen, and your body tingled with an excited energy.

"It's only fair that I return the favor, babe," Jean said, casually pulling your underwear to the side before diving in like a starving man.

Yep, you'd definitely won the lottery with Jean Kirstein. And you had a feeling that things would get even better once the two of you were actually ready to try for a baby.

[captain039]

PART 2 Tender hearted souls

Hugh Jackman x reader

Warnings: Age gap, slow burn, feelings, hurt/comfort, two fools in love, angst, light swearing, mental health issues, daddy issues, daddy!dom/little girl, plus size reader

Previous part <-

You’re up late, staring at yourself in the mirror unhealthily. You’ve got granny panties and a plain black bra that just supports and nothing else. You like your flesh, squeeze it, curse it, love it then hate it some more. Maybe you were taking your frustration out on yourself. You feel conflicted, you won’t check your phone or social media’s knowing there will be an up roar. You’re glad you decided to create fake accounts for everything after knowing Hugh so long and being seen out with him more than ten times. You lay back on the bed and sigh legs hurting from the heels. A foot massage or full leg massage sounds so good right about now. A knock comes at your door and you’re upright within two seconds getting your dressing gown and tying it around your waist. You open the door seeing Hugh and smile.

“Heading to bed?” You ask as you let him in. He always made sure you were the one to invite him in your room, he never came in unless he asked.

“In a minute, wanted to check on you” he says a crease between his brow as you hug your dressing gown closer.

“I’m fine, promise” you say still pretending, you should’ve put some proper clothes on.

“I meant what I said up there, I know it was a bit overkill saying it to the world, but” his arm lifts up and rubs the back of his neck, something he did when he was nervous or embarrassed.

“You’ve been my rock lately, my anchor, I wouldn’t have made it here, wouldn’t have made it through the movie without you” you feel like your heart breaks. You go over to him and wrap your arms around his neck, resisting the urge to cry as he wraps his arms around your mid and nuzzles his head into your neck. You want to remove yourself from all this so it doesn’t hurt as much, but his arms, his warmth keep you there, always have.

“Well good thing I’m not going anywhere” you joke softly pulling back. You force a smile as he stares at you. Your breath gets caught at the intensity, the way he always looks at his love interests in movies, that longing look. You brush it off when his phone rings and he curses apologising before leaving.

You stare at the empty space a sigh leaving your lips before you close your door again softly and lie down in your robe, grabbing your phone. You check the news, social media, the hot gossip. Different questions a million answers on who you were, how special you were, why were you special, how Hugh knew you, why you weren’t mentioned before. It’s an endless doom scroll and you switch your phone off and almost throw it at the wall. Your phone buzzes though and you see your mums name pop up. She asks how the premier went, even though she probably read or saw the news somewhere. You tell her it went good, trying to avoid what happened. You say goodnight to her and listen to Hugh’s distant voice on the phone before closing your eyes.

You awake with a small groan, having had a horrible sleep of tossing and turning, not comfortable enough, feeling a little nausea. You want to sleep in more but your bladder demands release so you get up. You use the toilet before washing your hands and grabbing a shirt in the cupboard. You throw it on and find some pants to throw on too before heading into the kitchen. You know Hugh’s either on his run or in the home gym doing stupid gym things. They’re not stupid, you just don’t like doing them and watching Hugh just makes you more tired and a little horny than anything. You grab some cereal and milk before pouring each one into a bowl and sitting on the couch, legs crossed and half asleep. You miss your mouth the first time you try to eat and fake sob a little dramatically before getting it right. You check your phone, check the games you play on there before messaging your mum and dad good morning.

“Morning sunshine” Hugh’s voice rings out and you grumble in response to it. He chuckles a little sitting down in one of the single seats. He’s got his gym clothes on, baggy grey sweats and a grey singlet, a towel around his neck, some gross looking green smoothie in his hand. You gag at it as he takes a sip seeing him grin in response.

“It’ll wake you up, and it tastes good” he says and you raise an eyebrow.

“And I’d rather die” you state, your filter gone when you first wake up. You get a message from Blake asking how you are and you text her back saying you’re fine but a little tired. You’re supposed to go over there house for dinner tonight, a little celebration dinner for yesterday.

“Blake’s dinner is at six yeah?” You ask forgetting already.

“Yeah at six” Hugh confirms and you nod.

“Do I need a makeup artist for it?” You tease lightly.

“No, you do your makeup just fine” he says and you roll your eyes lightly his mind still in training mode.

“Yeah, yeah old man” you mumble.

“Who you calling old?” He’s got a cheeky look on his eye as he looks to you.

“Oh I don’t dunno, first name Hugh last name old man” you grin seeing his fake serious actor face.

“Oh really?” He says standing up and you can’t help but grin wider.

“I dunno Bub, I reckon I’ve got more game than you” he’s got his wolverine voice on as he comes closer. Your heart rate rises as he stalks to you while your grin falters.

“Nuh uh old man” you say as he’s suddenly on you tickling your sides. You’re glad you put the bowl down before you insulted him. You squeal and laugh trying to fight him off as you end up sideways on the couch him torturing you with his finger tips at your sides.

“Stop!” You say breathlessly as he continues relentlessly.

“Hugh! Ok! You’re not an old man” you whine and laugh out again.

“Begging for forgiveness already?” He’s grinning keeping his torture up as you squirm every which way.

“Stop! Stop! I swear, I’m sorry” you giggle in a fit as he finally stops. You let out quick breaths and laugh as he leans over you panting lightly also. You let out a small giggle wanting to tease some more but his smile falters a little eyes looking over your face.

“What?” You ask touching your fingers to your face.

“Breakfast?” You ask wondering why he’s staring at you. He’s closer now, you didn’t notice it but he’s inches away.

“Hugh?” You mutter cheeks hotter than before as he blinks.

“Sorry” he says getting up quickly and walks away down the hall to his room leaving you confused. You frown wondering if you did something, he always took your insults and teasing well and threw them back. You rest a hand on your chest catching your breath and trying to ignore how fast your hearts pounding. 

Next part ->

[katyswrites]

don't call me 'baby' - epilogue

EPILOGUE | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, references to smut, fluff (tooth-rotting fluff), mentions of food, age gap, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 1.3k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

EPILOGUE | long story short

Four years later.

You blink awake groggily, the bright morning light inescapable. It takes you a moment to remember where you are, the way it often does in those first few seconds of waking up - then, you remember. The sound of ocean waves, the smell of salt air, and the feeling of a solid warmth by your side is enough to remind you. You sigh dreamily, backing up closer against Steve. He stirs, still half-asleep, his arm slinging around your waist to pull you against him.

“Morning,” you whisper.

“Mmph,” he grumbles, clearly not ready to join you in being awake.

You twist in his arms until you’re facing him. His eyelids are fluttering, breathing steady - he still looks so young like this, so peaceful. You would stare at him sleeping all day, if he let you. The bright morning sun dances across his skin, illuminating his freckles and moles, the shape of his brow and nose, and the slight stubble he’s developing after a day of skipping shaving. You sigh, reaching up to gently trace his features, your fingers only brushing along his skin ever-so lightly. He stirs again, nuzzling into your touch. You giggle softly, leaning over to kiss any part of him you could reach - his forehead, eyelids, nose, cheeks - and, the moles along his jawline and neck, your favorite. It’s mornings like this that you love the most.

“What’re you doing,” he asks groggily.

“Waking you up,” you whisper, brushing your nose against his. “Want me to stop?”

“No. But, I preferred how you woke me up yesterday,” he murmurs, grinning. You blush at the memory, remembering how he regained consciousness to the feeling of your lips around his cock about 24 hours ago.

“I’m sure you did - I promise, there’s plenty where that came from.”

He chuckles, turning under the sheets to get a better look at you.

“This is actually my favorite thing,” he says softly.

“What is?”

“Waking up next to you.”

Even after all of these years, you feel as if your heart is about to burst, your love for the man beside you impossible to contain.

“Well, good thing you’ll be waking up next to me forever,” you whisper.

“Mm…did you sleep well, Mrs. Harrington?”

You nod, scooching closer until you’re nose-to-nose again.

“And you?”

“You know me… I always sleep better when you’re here.”

“Mm.”

You both lay in a peaceful silence for a while, enjoying a lazy morning

You yawn. “What time is it, anyways?”

“Not sure - does it matter?”

You shrug. “No - not really. Maybe we can take the boat out again today, at some point - I think that’d be fun.”

“Mm. Also, we do have a dinner reservation at that rooftop place you like tonight.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm hm. Turns out that tonight is when we’re gonna be able to see your star from here - I thought it’d be nice to look at it where I first gave it to you, you know?”

It still amazes you, how easily his thoughtfulness comes to him.

“Have you finally figured out where it is?” you tease.

“I know where it is -”

“Baby, every time you point it out, it’s a completely different star -”

“Looks like I’ll just have to buy you the whole sky, so everything is named after you - d’you think they’ll let me do that?”

You giggle.

“I think, like, NASA would take issue with that.”

“It’s worth the risk, I think,” he jokes.

When the subject of planning your honeymoon had come up, you and Steve had looked at destinations all around the world - the smarter thing to do would probably go somewhere new, a place neither of you had been before. But, that idea only lasted about five minutes before you both had admitted where you really wanted to go.

Ischia Island was the only option, really - where else would you go, besides the place where you had fallen in love? He even found the same villa to rent - he had initially suggested a resort stay instead, which you refused. This is what feels right - knowing Steve, he was close to just buying the place if it would make you happy.

You stretch under the covers, groaning. Your diamond ring catches the sunlight and glistens - and, you can’t help but smile at the sight of it. You aren’t sure you’ll ever get completely used to the sight of it - or, the idea of being married to Steve at all. 

The wedding had been a massive affair, a destination event in Naples with all of your close friends and family. Robin was your maid of honor, and cried during her whole speech, even when she told the embarrassing story of walking in on you. Eddie and his band performed, actually switching out their typical heavy metal fare for more wedding-friendly classics. The moment ingrained in your mind is when Steve saw you in your dress for the first time - you had opted for a “first look,” a private moment for the two of you to see each other dressed up for the first time, and take some photos before the ceremony. He practically crumbled when he saw you, pulling you into a suffocating hug - part of you had thought he quite literally would never let go. Somehow, he was still finding ways to surprise you.

You know that, after this honeymoon, you’d both return to Chicago, where you split time for half of the year. Then, you’d come back to Rome, where your second home is. It actually makes Steve’s job easier, this compromise - after expanding the company globally, he enlisted you to work with him, opening a nonprofit sector of HNL for underprivileged teens looking to study at foreign universities. For people like you had once been. In his words, we have more money than we need, and I think it’s about time we do something good. He has a passion for helping kids, you’ve learned. YOu both work hard, but for you, it’s easy, doing something you love with the person you love.

Steve’s hand finds yours under the covers, entwining your fingers and pulling it up so he can press a few kisses to your knuckles. The softness of the gesture makes you want to crumble, even after all this time. He takes a moment to examine your ring, silver to match his own wedding band. To most, the star of your finger is the sparkling diamond on the engagement ring - but, his eyes flit to the pearl on your wedding band instead, the one he had found on this very island years ago. 

“Guess what,” he whispers.

“What?”

“I love you.”

You feel yourself smile, and bury your face into the pillow.

“I really hope that’s the case,” you laugh. “Ti amo tanto.”

I love you so much.

Then, the moment is ruined by the rumbling of your stomach.

“Breakfast?” you ask. He laughs.

“Yeah, okay - I’ll go make something. Want to have it on the balcony?”

You nod, biting your lip as you watch him walk away.

Once, Steve had told you he’d make sure you want for nothing - that, whatever you wanted, he’d give to you. That sentiment still seeps through pretty often - he loves nothing more than spoiling you. Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen he says.

But, laying here in this beautiful Italian villa, with the smell of eggs wafting in from where your husband is humming to himself in the kitchen - you have everything you want. And, as long as you’re with him, you always will.

****

author's note: that's it! Thanks for coming on this wild journey with me. This might not be the end of this universe's Steve and reader - perhaps some blurbs will be posted in the future, if there's interest. But, that's the end of their main story - I hope you enjoyed. I also hope you'll stick around for my upcoming projects. Thank you all for supporting this fic - I'd love to hear your thoughts! This is Katy, signing off (for now).

[dulcewrites]

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back (modern au)

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x reader (wc: 3.6k)

Summary: Sometimes Aegon is sure that the Gods like playing tricks on him. Your reintroduction into his life only proves that further

A/N: the time has come for my Aegon work!! I’m so excited because this also my first time doing an modern au. I explained the idea more here. This will include all the hotd hits: mommy issues, daddy issues, the Targs being an all around messy family. This is my contribution to the tgc Aegon universe 🫡. Slight house keeping: Aemond has both of his eyes in this universe but the sight in one eye is diminishing/has been diminished over the years. Also there are certain elements I will be taking from hotd/asoiaf and the Faith of the Seven is one.

Blog masterlist

You had always assumed that therapist offices would be sterile and cold. Or at the very least, annoyingly put together.

Cregan Stark’s office is nothing of the sort.

From deep red floors to the walls of antic books and shelves filled of knickknacks. The office is not what you expected to it be. It only makes you more anxious for this whole ordeal. The only indication of his credentials as a professional being the certificate from the University of Cambridge hanging on the wall. Even the laidback nature of him made you pause. Call me Cregan. Mr. Stark was my father.

Long brown hair pulled back, dark beard, stormy grey eyes, topped off with a flowy button-down shirt. He looks better suited chopping down wood somewhere than helping university students. Everyone seemed weary of the new addition to the dance department.

Your eyes flutter to the clock behind him then back to his warm eyes.

“I am sure you are wondering why I wanted to speak with you,” his voice is soft. There is an element of mirth that has you raising a brow.

You shrug in response. “Taking inventory of the inmates, I assume.”

The joke does seem not seem to land the way you thought it would. He gives you a incredulous look before shaking his head. Your mother always told you that your inability to keep to certain thoughts in your head would get you in trouble sooner or later.

“My new position here is to help the dancers, especially ones transitioning out of school, handle this year,” he begins. “A sounding board if you will. Listen to any problems. Assist with finding resources and opportunities beyond this point.”

You nod slowly, still not understanding why this meeting is cutting into your warmup time. Instinctively, you point then flex your foot in your fuzzy black boot. Your eyes go back to the clock. Gods, Aemond is going to tear into you if this does not wrap up soon.

“Most of the notes were positive,” he replies quickly, reading the furrow in your brow. “Bright, hard-working, and diligent were just a few things said.”

“Most of the notes were positive,” he replies quickly, reading the furrow in your brow. “Bright, hard-working, and diligent were just a few things said.”

“Most of the notes were positive,” he replies quickly, reading the furrow in your brow. “Bright, hard-working, and diligent were just a few things said.”

“Most of the notes were positive,” he replies quickly, reading the furrow in your brow. “Bright, hard-working, and diligent were just a few things said.”

You let a breath you were holding in. Of course, that was what was said. You have dedicated your life to this; you expect nothing less than comments like that. They are sentiments you should not think but you know you are one of the most talented dancers in the program.

But then your mind drifts to something.

“Most?”

He gives you a pained smile. “There were a couple of comments that expressed concern about your… intensity and your health.”

You blink blankly at him.

“I don’t think I am any more intense than any other student here. We are all very serious about our art.”

Cregan nods. “I was informed about an incident that happened in your second term here. Something quite awful.”

Your blood runs cold, and you sniff stiffly in response. Please don’t you think.

“I am sorry for your loss.”

You try to keep your eye from twitching. There was a time in your life where all you wanted was someone to tell you that. To let you know that they feel bad for the situation you found yourself wallowing in… for the situation Marina found herself in.

That time is over.

“It has been over a year and a half,” you plaster on a smile. “Thank you for that, but I am doing fine.”

It was not lie. It really wasn’t.

Cregan hums softly. “Why don’t you and I make a deal. We meet each other once a week for the rest of the term. We can talk about how you are doing, and work towards you graduating.”

You feel your patience wearing horribly thin. It is not that you have a problem with therapy or counseling. You just don’t need it nor want it.

“Look, I appreciate the concern. I just don’t have time for weekly meetings. I have auditions for companies, finishing my classes strong. Also, an end of the year project… which is not going well so far.”

Your eyes go back to clock above him. You are so fucked.

“I do not have the time,” you repeat, not even clarifying if you mean for the meetings or this conversation. “I have too much on my plate.”

Cregan smiles, easy and cool. It softens the sternness that has settled into his long face.

“That is exactly why we need to do it.”

A sinking feeling gathers in your stomach. He is not going to take no for an answer, is he?

As you leave the room, new schedule in hand, all you can think about is how much you despise Cregan Stark. Your ire extends to whatever instructor told him you needed help in the first place. The walk to the practice studios is cold and damp. Somber weather matching the way you feel.

You must take a deep breath before going into the practice room. Aemond, perched at the piano, shoots you a glare. Ignoring his eyes burning into your back, you sit on the floor to put on your pointe shoes.

“I know you have little care for my time,” his voice cut through the room. Low and condescending. “But if you want to get through this, the least you can do is show up on time.”

You do not answer immediately, eyes focused on your shoes.

“It is just common sense.”

Aemond continues to lecture you about the importance of respecting people’s time. Perhaps if you told him about your meeting, he would let it go. But then again based off the few weeks you have spent with him, you know once he gets started, it is hard to stop him. His voice fades in the background as you stare at yourself in the mirror.

In your head, you repeat the affirmations you recite every morning.

You are talented, you are grounded, you are alive.

Aegon could not help but stare at the rain as it fell and splintered on the large class windows of the meeting room.

When he was younger, he hated the rain. The endless rolling clouds and damp days made him feel like he was in a bad nightmare. But the older he got, the more he started to appreciate the rain. Utterly soothed by the tip tap of rain against something solid. He could make a melody out of it. Plus, it helped him sleep.

He rarely got good nights of sleep.

The somber weather only added to the uninspiring atmosphere in the room. Aegon tried hard to listen. He fought hard to keep his eyes from glazing over. Placing fonder thoughts in his head kept him from outwardly expressing his boredom. Today, he thought of what he should get to dinner. Something hearty… or maybe something spicy. The thoughts lead to him texting his brother.

I can drive up. Want that Thai place around the corner from yr place

It took Aemond minutes to reply, but when he did it was a simple no. His brother was always a man of few words.

I’ll pay :)

He watched as the dots appear then disappear then reappear again. Aegon smiles at his phone when Aemond eventually says yes. He gives Aegon strict instructions to stay in the car and wait on him to come out.

“Aegon, are you listening?”

Aegon’s eyes shoot up from his phone to meet one that resembles his too much for comfort. Rhaenyra is eyeing him exasperated. There was slight tension at the beginning of the meeting when he gave her a funny look after she sat in the seat their father normally does. But he had no interest in arguing with Rhaenyra, at least not today.

“Yes, I hear you,” he clears his throat, and rubs one of his eyes.

“Long night?”

The smile is there when she says it but the words are condescending. Her smile works on others, but Aegon knows what lies beneath it. Such a delight to work with, Viserys would beam. Everything was easy when her eyes softened, and the corners of her lips go lopsided in a good-natured way. Aegon knows she must that to survive in this environment. Mask all her slender and confidence with smiles. He would respect it more if she did not try to play him like she does the other men in the firm.

Like he is one of father’s mindless cronies.

They share the same blood. Which means he knows they are both predisposed to thinking they know best by nature.

“I want to talk about reconsidering the pro bono option,” ok, maybe he does want an argument. Bothering Rhaenyra sparked a unique kind of joy in Aegon.

Rhaenyra’s brows furrow. Their brains had been hardwired differently by now; her business-oriented ideals sometimes working in direct contrast with the direction he thinks the firm should go in.

“I think the idea is one we should consider,” Tyland Lannister pipes up, voice chipper and full of mirth.

Rhaenyra’s gaze turns to him, completely unimpressed. Aegon had to bite back a smile. Tyland had a habit of siding with Aegon in meetings like this. The Lannisters, a family that has dipped their foot in any lucrative business they could find, not only had a history with Targaryens, but with the Hightowers as well. Rhaenyra had expressed to their father how much it bothered her. All she received was a wave of the hand; for all the special treatment he felt Viserys gave his eldest child, Aegon can say Viserys has never been good at laying down the law within the firm.

How he managed to run the company with that attitude was beyond Aegon.

With the slight support of Tyland, a couple of the other suits in the room nodded in agreement. Rhaenyra swallows, eyes shifting back to Aegon’s. When his sister is upset, he has noticed her eyes shift to a chill blue to a tempered iris.

She looks at him with a look that Aegon could only describe as pure exhaustion. The type of exhaustion that happens when you deeply resent someone. Somewhere down the line they took a sharp turn right, and never got back on track.

The irony of the distance between them, is that it was not always like that. His first memories of life are not with his mother, father, or even with the siblings he grew up in the same household with; they are with Rhaenyra. He has fuzzy recollections of teenage her blowing raspberries on his belly when he was a baby. They used to share knowing glances when their father went on tangents. She used to take him on trips to the park. Now Aegon finds himself wondering what things Rhaenyra whispers in Viserys’ ear when he is not around.

Maybe that was the last time Rhaenyra genuinely liked him. When he was younger with no motives or true thoughts of his own. He supposed he can’t blame her; that was the last time he liked being in his own body too.

There are times he looks at his sister, and he wants her to bring him into a hug. Rhaenyra always gave the best hugs, only rivaled by his mom. He wants to burst into tears and tell her that she was his first friend. That he needed her years ago. But then he remembers the look of disbelief he received when Viserys said Aegon would be working for the firm.

The coldness is better. His heart doesn’t break multiple times over anymore.

“Aegon and I can discuss that later,” Rhaenyra says after a minute. She stands to leave. “This meeting is over.”

She’s frustrated. He can tell by the way she leaves the room without a single glance his way. One thing they do have in common is the bone-chilling urge to flee a place whenever things get too difficult or when they get too annoyed. Could be self-preservation. Could be them sparring others the anger Targaryens are known for.

Aegon sits for a moment as everyone else filters out of the room. The rain comes down harder against the windows. He closes his eyes listening to way it bangs against the building.

Tip tap tip tap

He identifies with the rain. Moody, surly, gloomy.

———

By the time Aegon packs up to leave for Aemond, the rain had stopped. The clouds clearing out as the light leaves the sky.

He lets the top down on his car. The cool air nips at his tip of his nose and cheeks. It burns in the best way. Aegon sits at the front of the building that he knows Aemond will be in. He sits patiently for minutes, but then curiosity and impatience take over.

Whenever he is on the campus, he can’t help but want to take it all in. Look at all the buildings he can. Explore as if he was child again. He always thought it would be him to follow in his mother’s footsteps coming here, instead it was Aemond. He tries not to let the scratching bitterness work its way up his throat whenever they go home. The way Alicent frets and gushes over Aemond holds a special place in brain.

Her sweet, talented boy

He still does not know if she says it in front of him on purpose or by accident.

The building was nothing like the firm. Warm wood opposed to the glass and shiny metal he was used to. It was easy to know where Aemond would be, most of the lights in rooms dimmed except for one at the end of the hall.

He follows the piano he can hear faintly. Even though they are brothers, Aegon often feels like he is encroaching on something deeply personal when he hears Aemond play. Like he was hearing a part of Aemond he kept hidden from world. It made him peak in the room versus walking straight in.

He sees Aemond, eyes closed, playing a melody he does not recognize. It’s beautiful. But that is nothing out of the ordinary for Aemond.

Before he can finally make his presences known, a pair of legs obstruct his view. A graceful turn, followed by an acrobatic leap. All Aegon can is stare in slight awe, but he can’t help his mind from drifting to his mother. It reminds him of the black and white photos of her hanging in the foyer of their family home. Or the old videos of she used to show them when they were little.

He doesn’t know what he misses more - being that young or when Alicent wanted to share those things with them.

Before Aegon can finally walk in, the dancer stops abruptly turning to Aemond.

“Hmmmm,” she hums lowly. “I’m just not feeling it.”

Aemond lets out a guttural groan in response. He stands from the piano, roughly closing the top.

“You have not ‘felt’ the last two things I have composed.”

The dancer shrugs, not fazed by Aemond’s temperament. “Nothing has inspired me yet.”

He mumbled something under his breath, and Aegon watches as a head full of hair pulled pack in a ponytail snap back to his brother.

“What was that?”

Aegon knows that tone well. Him and Helaena would use it often when Aemond did that. They both hated when he would mumble under his breath. It always led to arguments that Alicent would have to break up. Aemond starts to gather the music sheets on the piano.

“Could be your tired routine that has everything feeling uninspired,” Aemond says louder.

“Oh please,” there is something so oddly familiar about the voice as it rings out. The insults don’t match the clear and sprite like nature of it. “If anything is tired, it is the cheap Rachmaninoff imitations you keep composing.”

“Gods, you’re such a….”

“Awe, what am I Aemond,” she doesn’t miss a beat. “tell me, so then I can tell you what you are. Because trust me if you think calling me a bitch is going to hurt my feelings, you should hear what people say about you.”

It makes Aemond falter. Aegon knows that deposited the tough face his brother puts on; he gets bogged down with what others think and expect of him. Aegon decides that maybe he should step in now.

“I think you both looked and sounded great,” he winced as soon as the words came out. His voice loudly ranges through the studio. Not entirely the smooth entrance it should have been. Aemond’s eyes shoot to Aegon; he seems to be getting that angry look from all his siblings lately.

Aegon freezes when his gaze meets big eyes staring at him incredulously. He recognizes the gentle slope of her nose, and the softness of her pretty face.

“Oh, fuck me.”

Aegon has a special talent for being foolishly. A knack for being numbingly unintelligent when it comes to feelings. At least that is what Daeron tells him.

“For someone so bright in other ways, you can be real stupid.”

But managing to include himself in the mess that is Aemond’s university life must be a new kind of low. This must be the Gods punishing him. The false promises he dishes out to women coming to finally bite him in the ass.

Her eyes go from Aegon to Aemond, then back to Aegon before she left out a chuckle of disbelief. “My life must be joke.”

Aegon opens his mouth to say something, but then realizes his mouth is the thing that got in him into this mess in the first place. His mouth on yours, his mouth on you, and his mouth’s ability to say sweet nothings at the drop of a hat. So all he can do is watch as you angrily put on your coat and tear off your dance shoes. While putting on your boots you turn to Aemond.

“Figure your shit out before reaching out to me again,” you hiss at him.

You don’t even spare Aegon another glance as you storm out. Leaving him with just the quick whiff of your sweet perfume.

The two brothers stand there in silence for a moment before Aemond finally speaks.

“I thought I told you to stay in the car?”

The drive to the Thai place was filled with Aemond cutting Aegon off by turning the radio louder and louder. He asks for what happened but seemingly shut down when the implication of what happened became clear.

“So, you fucked my project partner,” he mutters bitterly. “And then completely ghosted her after you promised you wouldn’t. On top lying about your last name.”

Aegon shakes his head, mouth full of tom kha khai. When he says it like that it sounds so awful.

“We did not have sex,” Aegon repeats. Then his shoulders slump. “But yes… we might have done… other stuff and I may have… not called when I said I would.”

Aemond scoffs, picking at his half-eaten curry. The brother bonding not going how Aegon wanted it to.

“I can apologize. I can send flowers.”

“No, absolutely not.” Aemond blanches. “You need to leave her alone. We are already not on the same page, the last thing I need is more issues with her.”

He did have a nice night with you. One of the better ones he can remember. It could why he was so apprehensive to reach out. It was just Aegon’s luck. He manages to fuck things up even when he says he won’t get attached and involved.

“Well, I guess I feel a little bit less bad about what I was going to tell you,” Aemond says, then clears his throat. “Criston asked about you again when we talked.”

Aegon says nothing in return. This dinner was a mistake. He had already had a bad day at work; everything has down spiraled from there.

“I invited him to my recital in a couple of weeks. I just thought I should give you heads-up if you decide to come.”

Aegon shrugs. “It is your recital; you can invite whoever you want.”

“Funny, mother said the same thing,” Aemond smiled, it not reaching his eyes. “I don’t get why you guys must take your feelings out on him. He was nothing but kind to us. Especially to you, he taught you everything you knew about drumming. He didn’t make you go ha-“

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Aegon snaps.

What he really wants is a cold pint or a glass of wine, but he knows the look Aemond will give him if he orders one. Before a head-splitting headache comes on, Aegon asks for the check.

He wants to forget about the dinner. To forget about all the feelings that get stuck is him brain and keep him from functioning the way he wants to. Some nights he dreams about his siblings all being together, their father a distant memory. Other nights, he has nightmares of Alicent’s face contorted in pain and tears. Scared and disappointed.

But tonight, brought something different. Visions of soft lips, and a warm laugh flood his mind. Everything syrupy, and hazy in the best way. Not even Aemond’s words could break the succession of them.

Stay away from her

Aegon has always had trouble doing what he supposed to

[carelessflower]

rating shtv jace questionable moment

let be honest, it will mostly be season one plus two offending screenshots from season two. critical analysis only when i want to, the rest depends. the descent into hell is easy after all

5/10 - see? sh writers can write, first scene with jace they already show how he treat alec the rest of the season.

6/10 - that his job

3/10 - friendly reminder, alec was the acting head at this point aka jace's boss, it's his duty to report any strange occurrence at the institute and now you brought a STRANGE girl into HIS institute, i dont know, just a thought

3/10 - yes it kinda is, and it's alec choice at that seeing how he your superiors

3/10 - jace would be a shit head for the ny institute if a random pretty girl make him act like this. and again, it normal alec get suspicious at clary, because he, you know, can actually think through situations and not dive in first like a headless chicken

4/10 - yes, he has working brain cells

2/10 - dont you love it when the dude you supposedly share half your soul dismiss your valid concerns regarding your life

5/10 - if he's as you said you would be six feet under or in some ceils not here talking shit

1/10 - yes alec stop, don't you know jace is allergic to reasoning

2/10 - he knows you should be supportive of your parabatai

1/10 - all i can say is if a stranger comes into my life, not caring for anything but herself and jeopardizing my job, i would let out far worse things than angry rant

3/10 - no wonder jace fancies clary, they are never ready to hold themselves or each other accountable for anything. true love

🚩🚩🚩/10 - right before this izzy LITERALLY said clary go out WILLINGLY i have no words, alec's way too nice i would have 'oh this you' and drag jace daddy issue to filth back i would go lower than hell. by the way jace never apologize for this so. flop

0/10 - proceed to lose her next episodes

4/10 - flop. flop parabatai of the year

2/10 - funny how jace only bring up the parabatai bond when he needs alec to do something for himm hmmmm. it giving suspicious it giving affection with conditions it giving manipulation

-♾️/10 - that a totally normal thing to say about your brother, the one who you share a lifetime bond with. i normally wish jace choke on a porcupine

0/10 - jace only contribution to the parabatai bond is 2x03 and when he use his nepotism to transfer the head of ny institute position to alec. and even with alec already on his way to that title before imogen swooped in

5/10 - ooh be making that face now suddenly you care? dont make me laugh

0/10 - jace lies so well, all that practice telling himself he looks handsome every morning paid off

0/10 - my three year old cousin has more critical thinking than these two

0/10 - jace the one to talk he's incapable of seeing anything outside clary

-/10 - for whither thou storest, I will steal, and where thou trust, I will trust to betray.

 💀/10 - took them ten episodes to have alec FINALLY punch somebody for joking, using his sexuality against him when he's clearly NOT ready to talk about it. yeah fuck shit up baby

2/10 - oh okay, let talk about how you and clary fuck off to somewhere with the cup when the clave and a race supremacist massacre advocate cult leader are both hunting for it. then you and she proceed to play house with your newly discovered fake dad and left alec to deal with the mess. oh, did i mention izzy's complicit in your scheme and you left her there at the mercy of the clave?

1/10 - your saving cause more problems than elon musk to twt get over yourself

4/10 - selfish intentions + selfish actions = season one clace. a match made in heaven

6/10 - passable apology but why he cant just resist making it all about him lmaoooo

4/10 - the only joke here is your life

tag list: @dustandducks @cityofdownwardspirals @magnus-the-maqnificent @onetimetwotimesthreetimess @wildesummerchild @cam-ryt @khaleesiofalicante

[whiskersz]

Hi there! I know you said matchups were closed but if you dont mind, Id like to send this in, just so I dont forget haha. If you dont wanna, its fine, feel free to delete my ask, or save it until you do reopen them, I just wanted to send one now because im forgetful and heard nothing but good things from my friend. <:) sorry to be a bother, once again, feel free to delete if I am bothering you

Im Ace, I go by she/they pronouns, Im bi, and stand at a height of 5'3.

I'm an introvert with anxiety and depression, but I am SUPER energetic and silly when you get to know me. I can be playfully mean, but i'm always there to help a friend in need. I get riled up pretty easy but Ive been told im very sweet and helpful and fun to be around.

Im chaotic and kinda delusional, and I can be flirty at times. I can also get a bit violent.

I think it says a lot about me seeing as I see Angel Dust as a big brother figure. I can be very sly at times and definitely impulsive.

Im creative and both really smart and really dumb, and Im mostly a coward unless it comes to friends and/or family

Im very sarcastic, playful, and affectionate, and I have no trouble saying I love you to people, but I do have trouble saying im sorry. Im also a people pleaser. I definitely dont make enemies but I do hold grudges. Im also super emotional and clingy. Daddy issues go BRRRRR

Thank you! Sorry again, hope im not being a bother.

Hello Ace!! Don’t worry, I don’t mind the occasional additional matchup! Do thank your friend from me for speaking well of my stuff, I appreciate that lots :3

Now, you seem to have quite the explosive personality, if you will >:3 So I match you with...

Cherri Bomb!!

To start off, Cherri is surely an individual who can take jokes, so you’re never going to have to be afraid to be a bother for her with your sarcastic and playful remarks as she will actually find this part of your personality hilarious, and will always play along and joke back.

She will definitely take advantage of your cluelessness sometimes – don’t call yourself dumb! – and tease you for it, though if she goes too far it’s not a problem for her to remind you that she was just joking and that she actually finds it really cute.

Cherri loves hanging out with fun people, so you being fun to be around is certainly a vantage point here. She’s not afraid of admitting when a person is boring and not of her liking, but I have the feeling that she would think the exact opposite of you. in fact, it’s not uncommon for her to invite you along whenever she hangs out with Angel.

You’re creative? She loves that about you. I imagine her house as one of those houses full of pop art paintings, handmade things and such. No matter how you express your creativeness, she will appreciate it and place something you made in plain sight somewhere around the house.

She also adores how expressive you are in a relationship; there’s many gestures that she finds attractive, but none goes above being proud of a partner and constantly reminding them that you love them, so when you do this with her she will waste no time and kiss you.

She doesn’t mind you being clingy at all, also. She actually finds it very cute and she loves receiving physical affection, so who is she to say no to a hug or a cuddle? If you’re into PDA just as she is, she’ll be thrilled to show each other affection in public, also to show others how lucky she is that she gets to date you.

Despite being quite chaotic herself, Cherri is also a very good friend and partner when it comes to comforting you; as seen in the “Addicted” music video, she’s willing to help Angel with his struggles, so why wouldn’t she do so with you as well? She understands that everyone has moments where anxiety overwhelms them too much, and that people who struggle with depression like you don’t have it easy every day, so in these times she will offer you all the support that you need. Mainly through physical contact, but also in other ways if you prefer being shown love through actions or words, for example.

You two might come across a bit of a problem if you ever end up arguing; she’s also not easy to get a ‘sorry’ out of, but one of you will have to apologize to the other sooner or later. I feel that if the relationship has been going on for a while, this will be easier, but at the start you two might have to take a bit of time alone before ultimately coming to the conclusion that yes, you do love each other and yes, apologizing if you’re in the wrong is the better option if you desire a happy relationship.

Overall, you and Cherri make quite the chaotic and fun couple! The rest of the Hotel loves having you two around when you visit, you definitely bring an air of fun and excitement.

[blingblong55]

Smoke Signals- COD MEN

This is based gonna request:

Angst?, Family issues, mentions of abuse, mentions of SA and possible R8pe.

Backstory:

It's a known fact to Price that you never had a relationship/bond with your family. You had the worst relationship with them. As a child they treated you like shit. Nothing but the worst. One time, you tried to explain to them what had happened to you at a party, they as always didn't believe you. You were triggered when others would touch your thighs, so when they knew this, they pinned you to the floor, touching you everywhere. Ever since, it had been you out in the world.

----

Any time you'd have to take time off because you "earned" it, you'd stay at base. Price was the man you told all of your problems to, he listened to it all. Always the shoulder you leaned on, on tough nights. The guy who would make a joke as you cried. To him you had become his own child. So when your family would sneak up on base and verbally harass you for not being there for them(always asked for money) price would have them escorted. He'd sent you to his office and you'd sit there with a therapist, his hand holding yours. Always squeezing it when he knew you'd be close to a bad memory.

It brought him pain when he watched you talk about the past, you were so use to the mistreatment your poor soul thought this was normal. And ever since you first shared a dark memory with him, he has been teaching you the right ways you should've been treated like.

One late night, Price, Ghost and Alejandro had a meeting. It extended further than they'd like. Soap, Gaz, Rudy and Kreuger were off base, they decided to treat themselves to a few drinks. You walked around base, waiting for anyone to hang around with you. Unfortunately, your family got passed security. Soon they found you, they started to say things to you. "look at you, such a weak thing." your father pushed you around.

"there is a reason why I nearly aborted you, such a disgrace"

Your siblings started to push your buttons. And suddenly as you closed your eyes, you were 7 years old again. You were back in your room, your arms protecting your poor weak figure. "Daddy please stop!" you begged, yours eyes shut as tears streamed down. "this si what you get for being such a disrespectful thing!" he kept hitting you.

"please mummy do something, it hurts."

You prayed and prayed, hoping someone would hear this and take you away. To somewhere safe, kind and far away. To and mum and a dad who would love you, who'd hold your hand when you were scarred.

You must've been lookin' for me Sendin' smoke signals Pelicans circling Burnin' trash out on the beach

"get away from them!" price rushed to you. The rest of the team trailed behind, confused as to why the captain was acting like this. But as they approached they saw you. You were sitting on the floor, holding yourself as tears ran down. Price kneeled down, his arms around you. "Ghost call security, get these fuckers out" he spitted.

"hey, listen to me, you're safe now. They are gone." he whispered as he rocked you in his arms. "I'm here, they won't hurt you again. r/n"

But you weren't responding. You pushed hi off, he stepped back. You started whispering, "M'sorry dad, it's my fault just please..please don't hit me." your voice cracked. Your hands started to travel around your skin, you started to grip onto it. Price knew you were close to having a breakdown. So against your wishes he picked you up and jogged to his office.

One of your eyes is always half-shut Somethin' happened when you were a kid I didn't know you then and I'll never understand Why it feels like I did

Through the night he stayed up, listening as you calmed yourself down. "you left me alone." you finally said, your gaze focused on him. "I know kid, and for that I am sorry."

"why did you leave me?" your voice was so soft, god it broke him a million times to hear you say this.

"I didn't mean to."

---------

It was a regular Friday. Price and the other commanding officers back at the meeting room. You were locked in your room. What can I say, you learn from mistakes after all. You grew hungry at around 5pm, the mess hall was closed. To all other soldiers, but price gave you a spare key. "have a go, just don't be hard on the ice cream, and save me some." he had told you. As you exited your room, your mother tapped your shoulder. "I believe we have to talk." And you walked inside your room again. They sat around, "so what is it?" you asked. "why are you so stubborn with us?" you were confused. "stubborn?"

"well we try and try to talk to you, but all you do is send us away. I mean I am your mother for god sakes, and all I want is for my child to love me!" She began to fake cry. It was typical for her. "mum-"

"no your mother is right, we have tried to reach out, we send stuff to you, and all you do is bitch about it to your commanders." you dad stood up, god you hated that look on his face. Unfortunately it was a emotion he carried everywhere.

"When have I done such bullshit? I was just a kid when you all decided I would be your personal punching bag, you fucking blamed me for shit I didn't do. I loved you all, forgave you for it all."

"those are stolen memories, you saw a show and what you say we did is fake." you mother said

"what?! that is such a fucking lie! I lived through all your hate! I was always the idiot to go back to you! I cried for you, I begged for you to love me and all you did was laugh at my face mother!"

"pity me pity me." your sibling mocked your voice. You were closer to crying this time.

"aren't you embarrassed? grown men have to protect you, I mean you are just another burden for them!"

"that. is not true! I have found a family here, we all understand each other, we respect one another and I would die for them" you opened the door from your room, stepping out.

Your "conversation" had become so loud your teammates came out of their rooms. They all stood around and watched as you started to crumble. As you marched out, your mother grabbed your arm. "this isn't over! You listen to me here-!"

"no you listen to me! I have had enough of all of you, with you shit memories, you always play hero mother, always and I am tired of your fake crying. And by the way you should be embarrassed, at your grown age acting like a child? God you are pathetic.!" Your voice cracked every now and then, you wiped your tears and continue to look at her.

Alejandro wanted to step in, but Soap pulled him back. Price started to make way to you. You dad slapped you across the face. "don't you ever disrespect your mother!" There is was, his goddamn devil face. If he wanted you he could kill ya.

"go ahead dad, beat me, do it! just like when I was a kid! You fucking piece of shit."

"I hope you fucking die!"

the men started to approach. Your mother pushed you to the floor, as you looked up at her an evil smile was smudged against her lips. It was the same look she gave you every time she would hit you hard.

And once more, you were a child.

"mummy please, please don't hit me! I love you mummy please!" but she did it, she'd hit you until you fell asleep. And then as she regained some energy she would pull out a cigarette, she would light two. One for her and one for your skin. Anytime she inhaled the smoke, she would burn your skin

You're cried, "you are seriously doing this again?" your voice cracked, it was so low that only she heard. You had given up once more.

And as your father started to take his belt off, Ghost tackled him. He punched him a few times. One of your siblings tried to push him off, but Sebastian (Krueger) held them and with one move he knocked them out. Price and Soap dragged your mother and other sibling out.

"We will be back and next time I come around you'll regret being being born!" Rodolfo and Alejandro held you in their arms.

Just checking out to hide from life And all of our problems, I'm gonna solve 'em With you ridin' shotgun Speeding 'cause fuck the cops

Soon all the men looked at you, "what?" you cheek was red, a hand print on it. Gaz came back with a pack of ice, "here, don't want ya pretty face to suffer." he jokingly said.

"yeah imagine having to kiss ya cheek goo'night with what could be a bruise,,,,yikes" soap said as he wrapped you in his arms. Alejandro smacked the back of his head as he said that, it caused a giggle to escape your lips. "Oi!" he responded.

And for the first time, you were able to admit that your family had become your annoying lover boys. For this was true family, your family.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Tags: @ruler-of-fandoms69

A/n: okay maybe this isn't exactly what you had in mind, but I really do hope you liked it!

Can’t sleep so here ya go!

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

Saw a post about wanting headcannon asks… so I have arrived! Any hcs for our boy Loui? Or Florida, or York, or Gov, or anyone really. I like reading about people hcs

YESSSS I DOOOOOO :) <— not a threatening smile dw

Louisiana:

Florida has to make sure that he tells Loui if he’s leaving somewhere cuz otherwise, Loui will very much “internally” panic.

Give him cuddles 🥺 Or let him cuddle you cuz he loves it either way 🥺😭

He will get attached if you make him feel like he’s actually worth something (totally not projecting here). That has however led to some toxic friendships/relationships. Ones where he didn’t want the person to leave, so he did everything he could to make them happy even if it hurt him. (I’m not projecting shut the fu-)

Loves inviting friends over for dinner/parties

Has a catahoula leopard dog/german shepherd mix named Beau, and a black cat named Misty and he loves them both so much.

Has a habit of forgetting that he already told a story, and then he tells it again with the same amount of enthusiasm he did the first time. His friends still listen though cuz they love him and it’s adorable.

Glass bones and paper skin. Lil boy gets hurt very easily but selects the ignore button. Bent his ankle in a way it shouldn’t be able to bend? Ignore. Gets stabbed repeatedly on an evening walk in NOLA? Tis’ but a scratch. Falls off a cliff into raging waters? I’m not dead yet!! Someone tries to help him? "YOUR MOTHER WAS A HAMSTER AND YOUR FATHER SMELLED OF ELDERBERRIES-"

At this point, he’s only still alive and existing out of pure spite and stubbornness.

Gets spooked by everyone and everything.

He probably does that thing where he creeps up on people, stops when they turn around, continues when they turn back around, and then tackle-hugs them. Sometimes though, he’ll just get snatched midair and cuddled to death :]

Florida:

Makes time for him and Loui to cuddle

Actually a decent cook (he sorta lives with Loui-), but he enjoys chaos and fire so. Don’t let him in the kitchen alone.

Actually has an okay relationship with his father (wow me not giving someone daddy issues 😨😰😱), but doesn’t talk to him much. He’s kinda pissed about how much his father neglected him though.

Surprisingly, he knows when it’s not the time to joke around.

Strong man 💪 can pick up all of his friends. Yes even Texas (tbf, he’s just tall he doesn’t weigh that much but it’s still impressive-)

Great hugs 9.5/10. I say only 9.5/10 cuz he might slip you a little danger noodle for a friend.

Gov:

TIRED AF SOMEONE GET THIS MAN IN BED (NOT LIKE THAT-) AND GET HIM SOME DAMN WATER. AGUA. EAU. WASSER. FOR THE SAKE OF HIS ORGANS I BEG.

Has really bad back pain from being hunched over his desk all the time. His joints be poppin 24/7. He’s a lil crispy if you will.

Double jointed mf. Bendy bitch.

Gets treated like absolute sh*t back at the White House. He really needs better handlers.

Can’t cook for sh*t. He’s been known to make backward pb and j sandwiches and pour coffee on the bottom of the mug. Tbh he could probably cook if he wasn’t so sleep deprived.

Low iron and dizzy spells and chronic migraines. How he’s still alive I have no idea.

New York:

My precious baby I’m so nice to him. And since I’m so nice to him: I’ve given him anemia, insomnia, an iron deficiency, and asthma <3

Mans has to stand up REAL slow cuz otherwise he’ll fall and maybe pass tf out.

His brothers are always making sure that he isn’t just dropping dead to a dizzy spell.

He has poliosis :’D

He’s helpful but in the worst ways possible. If someone leaves an empty cup on the counter whilst he’s around. Cuz he will stare at them and slowly nudge it towards the edge of the counter.

————————

[crownmemes]

Assorted Media Sentences, Vol. 4

(Sentences from various pieces of media. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"Could you be any more of a condescending ass?"

"I just want my mind to quit so I can finally fall asleep."

"The living and the dead belong in different places."

"My bank account is much, much bigger than yours."

"Somewhere along the line, I stopped putting you first. I forgot that you had dreams and ambitions too."

"You're missing the big picture here."

"What kind of psychopath just enters someone's house!?"

"I warn you, I can be difficult to read when I want to be."

"If you don't trust me, just tell me."

"You can't save everybody."

"Oh, God. I'm pregnant."

"Your lipstick's the same colour as the sunset."

"Are you saying that my house is sad?"

"You know, I was in love with an agent once."

"If you break his heart, I will kill you and bury your body in the woods."

"You can't just flip a switch and become someone else."

"I'm sensing you are a control freak."

"Who doesn't love a good magic trick?"

"I know I'm not well, but I'm alright."

"You have big daddy issues."

"I'm not your friend. What gave you that idea?"

"I've been introduced to everyone here except you."

"I wouldn't call bugging my car a joke."

"This isn't the first time I've been threatened, and I'm still here."

"The helping hand can be the same that holds the knife."

"For every problem, there is a solution."

"So, tell me about your lady friend!"

"Is this a sign of imperfection, or is this the fundamental truth of creation?"

"Am I the love of your life?"

"Promise me, that next time, you will back me up."

"If you want to see who can be grumpier, I promise you, you will lose."

"Who are you? What do you want from me?"

"You're all hard on the outside, but you're gooey on the inside."

"I just want to see you when I wake up every morning. That's all."

"The closer we get, the less it makes sense."

[coleszzzworld]

I got you ! And thank you!🤍

Yandere college jock! X reader (she/her pronouns) TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️-Fighting.mentions of daddy issues and mommy issues. Douche bag energy , cussing .POSITIVELY DO NOT READ IF EASILY TRIGGERED-enjoy the fall.-🐇♦️🖤

“… Try me, might fight“-yuNg BrAtz , xxxtentacion.

So can I get your number?” You look up to the man with blonde hair probably around 5,10 , he won’t leave you alone he knows you don’t want to date him.

“Cameron…“ you sigh out before speaking again, “I already told you no.” You say not interested at all into what he is saying. He does this almost every day he’ll see you walking down the hall to English and he’ll stop you and keep asking you out .

You tell him no every time but he claims he is in ‘love’ with you. “Please Y/n? I swear I’ll take you somewhere nice!” Before you could scold him for always asking you out , Kai appears out of no where and he stands tall next to you and he says what your thinking, “get lost bro, she’s obviously not into you.” Kai says looking him up and down in disgust, “man , kai shut up nobody is talking to you… , this is between me and y/n” Cameron says as, he look’s at you.

“actually no it isn’t ... I’m leaving , I got to go to class“ you say walking away clearly done with what the blonde is saying “listen here cabrón. She isn’t into you. She will never be into you . Leave her alone or I swear to god , I’ll fuck you up… “ Kai says getting up in Cameron’s face , Cameron then pushes Kai back then getting into Kai’s face , “oh!? Your going to fuck me up? That’s so funny honestly I would love to see your bitch ass try. & I’m getting a vibe that you like y/n! Ha! What a fucking joke she’ll never date you . You’re just a baby back bitch that thinks just cause your the captain of the football team , means you run the school!, news flash you don’t .go cry to coach. Since you can’t cry to daddy cause he left your pathetic ass…. “ Cameron says as he laughs in the taller males face .

“And another thing right after I’m done fucking your bitch im going date her and make you mad you pathetic piece of shit.” Cameron says pushing him a bit then walking back to his group of friends, Kai could careless what Cameron said about him , Kai was pissed off about what he said about you….it made him see red , his thoughts was racing All he could think about was beating Cameron to death, kai heart started to beat faster with anger and suddenly without hesitation Kai runs up behind Cameron and tackles him and punches him repeatedly.

“I’ll fucking kill you! Don’t you ever say that about y/n!” Kai says repeatedly punching the shorter male , over and over again, people start to crowd around them some yelling for Kai and some yelling for Cameron, even some recording the fight . Cameron then recovers from the sneak attack and blocks his punches, he then flips Kai over so the taller male is under him he then starts punching him. Not a much tho cause Kai got the upper hand he flips back up and continues to punch Cameron over and over again. “I’ll … hurt you so bad cabrón , I’ll make you wish you weren’t alive.” Kai says as anger laced his voice and spits it as venom.

Eventually Kai’s friends pulls him off Cameron , “yo! Kai stop He’s done. Don’t fucking kill him now “one of Kai’s friends yell trying to pull Kai away from Cameron “fuck you, he isn’t done…cameron Harris your a fucking nobody with mommy issues! I’ll fuck you up you scary bitch!” Kai yells as he’s friends hold him back from the bloody male , Cameron then gets helped up and taken to the nurse .

Eventually the principal gets word of this fast and luckily since Kai is the all star player he only gets 5 days of after school detention. And Cameron gets the same punishment as his classmate. Kai only walked out with a busted lip and a bruise under his eye . But for Cameron he had a black eye and bruises all over his face and a busted lip. Not to mention , but while they sit in detention they still throw jabs at each other, “fuck you Martinez.“ Cameron says walking into detention as he makes eye contact with Kai , “Harris…do you want me to fuck you up again?… I promise to make it so much worse this time…” Kai says smirking a bit . “…” Cameron stays quiet and grumbles curse words at Kai then walking to the desk in the back .

A/N-Kai will defend your name forever, he will go to war for you fr .🫶🏼

[rreskk]

Hi ! I'm curious about something. How would react Trevor if Reader starts to call him "Daddy" in public ? Like when they're in a store or in a bar. You can put some smut if you want 😏

(If you want to do a fanfic about this, can you do it with Michael and Reader, please ? 🥺)

---A/N: Sorry this took long, blame college studies and job interviews LMFAO. I've made a Michael x reader (daddy kink) fanfiction before. It'll be somewhere on my profile (Sorry for being disorganised) Just type in Michael De Santa x reader on my profile and you'll find it.

HEADCANONS: Trevor reacting to be calling daddy in a public area

-How would this come about in the first place? Well, it’s only in the bedroom basis where he’d be called daddy. Trevor is… exotic, but not exotic enough to act out in public.

-It’ll shopping day! The time of the week you drag Trevor along to fill up the fridge he selfishly steals from. It’ll all go perfectly normal until…

-Trevor spots the underwear’s section and comments some peculiar remarks. In the process, he slaps your bum. This was out of order for you and it just, as some would say, came out. Unnaturally.

-“I’m gettin’ all worked up imagining you in that outfit, sugar-“ “Trev- Daddy!”

-He’s shocked. He looks at you with wide eyes for a minutes straight.

-You’d be spluttering and stuttering apologies to the surrounding citizens who are now traumatised. Trevor remains still.

-Then he smirks widely, “Ohhh! I didn’t know you liked to play THAT sorta game huh?”

-Thinking he was outrageously embarrassed, you had grown to realise that he found some sort of pleasure in the public scenery. Trevor praises your accidental words and follows you into the public bathrooms to help with his… Hardened issue.

-Safe to say he wasn’t forcing you to be quiet, instead, he wants the world around you to know who’s daddy. Maybe the incident awakened a forbidden pleasure of his.

-After that shopping (gone wron- right?) incident, Trevor will mention that little mistake of yours all the time. He finds pride in it.

-“Don’t be snarky with me, sugar. Remember who’s the daddy here?”

-He’ll never get over it. It would have to be over your dead body until the time he stops joking around.

[farfromstrange]

Foreigner's God: Chapter 7

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OFC

Chapter Summary: There is something incredibly off about Tony’s behavior, and Eliza decides she can’t do it anymore. She’s done. The fight leads to several revelations. One, she might be going slightly insane and two, Clinton Church is actually quite the nice place to go to if you’re having a panic attack. Other than that, Matt is still himself. While that might lead to some tension between them, she’s never been happier to have a place to go to that isn’t lonely, and he cares. This friendship might just be all she needs, after all.

Warnings: this is so long, mentions of drug abuse, alcohol consumption, there’s some foreshadowing, Tony Stark is being slandered, a phone call with Peter, hallucinations, panic attack, religious imagery, confession, praying, S3 spoilers, Eliza’s ever-lasting guilt, arguing, yelling, daddy issues (not the sexy kind), crying, not feeling good enough, some bad humor & cliché age gap joke

Other characters: Natasha, Steve, Thor, Bruce, Tony, Clint, Peter Parker, Father Lantom & Sister Maggie, also some random homeless man just trying to help a girl out

Word Count: ~ 10k

A/n: I tried working out some of my own religious trauma with this one and also… well, this shit is plot-heavy so you might need a clear head to read this. If anyone asks, no I’m not okay. And no, Tony just acts like an asshole. He ISNT the villain. Still haven’t done him dirty enough, but we’ll soon be done with the slander. The next chapter will be posted tonight as well!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!

Read Chapter 7: right where you left me Here on AO3!

18+ MINORS DNI

The first time Eliza Bennett met Tony Stark was the day Loki destroyed New York. She’d only been working for SHIELD for a short amount of time back then, trying to get accustomed to her new life, her new identity. It’s safe to say she has always been exceptionally good at it. At being an Agent, being a hero, and every other thing way beyond her maturity level. She was never taught any better. Being an Agent in the field resembled her life at Hydra almost down a tee. Except she wasn’t killing people and she had her own free will, which was nice, but also not so much. She followed orders but she had a choice to stay or to start a new somewhere, get a taste of that human lifestyle everyone kept telling her about. It was new and scary, and she hated the fact that it didn’t feel like her.

May 3rd, 2012.

She was undercover at a gala when she heard the static rushing in her earpiece. “Mission’s over,” Natasha said. 

“What?” Eliza looked down at the glass of Martini in her hand, then back at the dance floor on which the Senator she was watching kept twirling his date around. “I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet,” she said. “I practiced my tango, like you told me to. It’d be a shame if I couldn’t show it off!”

The woman laughed. “I’d love to see it, but this is urgent. Pack up! We’re going back on the Helicarrier. I’ve got someone else covering our Russian spy senator and his bimbo.”

“Don’t call her a bimbo, Nat.“

“But it’s true. Admit it.”

“No.”

“Okay.”

Eliza left the party, the black limousine waiting for her at the entrance. The nice valet opened her the door, but he was dangerously pale around the nose. She cocked her head. Someone had been threatening him.

Natasha sat in the dark of the backseat, holding a file. She should’ve expected the redhead to make her appearance so soon. Urgent meant nothing less than time sensitive and when it came to matters with such a label, she was always first on every scene.

“Wait, weren’t you just in some Russian guy’s lair?” she asked her.

“Yeah, Coulson bailed me out. Threatened the guy. I almost had him. Ended up kicking his ass like the little bitch he was.”

“Did you get the intel?”

“What do you take me for?”

“Of course, you did. So, what’s up? What’s up with the urgency?”

“I know you’ve never done this before,” Natasha said. She handed the file over, her hand enveloped in black leather gloves. “But the fate of the world depends on it, and we could really use your help right now.”

She opened the brown folder, the first page a picture of a glowing blue box. “The tesseract,” Eliza choked out. An object with the most magnetic pull.

Fury never once allowed her to be less than ten feet of it. She had to stay in the circle. Why, she didn’t know, but he had his reasons. 

“Yes, it’s recently come into possession of a, uh… I don’t know what he is. An alien? Some guy with greasy hair and a spear. He’s not of this world, that’s for sure. He stole it from the base earlier tonight.”

“This thing has unimaginable power. How could he just steal it?”

“As I said, he’s an alien. And he’s Thor’s brother. Turn the page.” She did. The next series of pictures were screenshots from the security cameras. The man with black hair stared straight at the screen. He was attractive, sure, but the crazy in his eyes killed the mood.

“Jesus.” Eliza shook her head. Somehow the glow of his scepter felt… familiar? It was just a picture, it was probably stupid, but she felt drawn to it nonetheless. “What’s the procedure?” she questioned. 

Natasha smirked. “We’re getting the band back together.”

With the band, she meant the Avengers. The Avengers Initiative failed before. Imagine her surprise when the pair set foot on the Helicarrier to find the group of unlikely allies meddled together for the first time ever. None of them looked like they belonged there.

“I could imagine better things than to be trapped on here with the Hulk,” she told Natasha. “And the guy whose brother is currently threatening to take over the world.”

“He’s still my brother!” Thor snapped from somewhere in the distance.

“He killed eighty people in two days.”

“Well, he’s adopted.”

“And I’m a former Hydra operative. What’s your point?”

“See, so even you have made mistakes, earthling.”

Eliza glared at the blond man. He was attractive. He was tall and muscular and every woman’s dream. In that moment though, all he did was infuriate her to the point, her blood boiled.

“Don’t call me earthling, you daft Asgardian Shakespeare.”

“I feel like you have been misinformed about me. I’m Thor, the God of-“

“Thunder, yeah, I know. I don’t care.” She turned to the rest of the team. “If I end up squashed,” - she pointed at Bruce - “under the edge of a Vibranium shield,” - she pointed at Captain America - “shot with an arrow through the eye,” - her eyes narrowed at Clint - “hit with a magic hammer or ATTACKED BY A FUCKING METAL SUIT, MISTER STARK!” Tony felt her finger poke deep into his chest. “I will make sure we all die up here,” she finished. “You got that?”

But Natasha taught her all about control, so she swallowed the red threatening to expose her and focused back on the task at hand.

Tony was actually the only one to eye her with curiosity instead of fear. “Do they usually start this young?” he asked. 

Eliza used to be a very superstitious person. She didn’t trust anyone outside of her fellow Agents and even then she kept her distance. She was a scared girl in a big world, not knowing who she was or how she got there, with powers raging inside of her that she couldn’t quite grasp. The Avengers were a pool of strangers that she was tossed in without ever having learned how to swim.

So, naturally, when Tony made his jokes, she put her guard up. “No,” she told him, “We usually start younger.”

“So, baby spies?” He’s never been a particularly serious person.

It was twisted that this was the thing that enthralled him about her. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut for the life of him. Eliza was so frustrated to the point where she considered putting a bullet through his iron suit. Though when he flew that missile into space, she couldn’t help but pay her respects to his heroic antics. The careless man she’d met before somehow appeared in a different light then.

“You’re a great kid,” Tony said to her after the battle. “We should do this again sometime.”

That was four years in the past. 

Eliza warmed up to Tony instantly. The respectful, caring side of him. It was the original reason why she agreed to move into Avengers Tower in the first place. She ditched SHIELD for the Avengers. He mentored her. Tony was the first person after Fury to see something in her, willing to do just about anything to bring it out in her. 

Tony Stark made her feel loved for the first time in her life. Perhaps that’s why it hurt so much to see their once so-invincible bond break apart. 

Eliza asked herself where exactly they went wrong. Was it something she did or something she could’ve prevented? As so often, there was nothing to explain Tony’s behavior other than the fact that he was just Tony. 

Tony wasn’t the man he used to be, and he certainly didn’t portray as the kind of person he wanted to be. He turned from an idol into an antagonist – Eliza wished it would’ve been a sudden change, but reflecting on the past two years she realized it was meant to happen.

Eliza knew better than to try and make him see. He had to fall head-first into the abyss to realize his mistakes. He needed a swift kick in the ass and an excellent punch to the face. She couldn’t do that. Life had to do it to him.

Like Steve once said to her, “If holding onto something hurts you more than letting go, you need to let it go. If it’s meant to be, it’ll come back to you. If it’s not, at least you got rid of the pain.”

By the time Happy pulled up to the compound, Eliza accepted the fact that it would never be the same again. She had to let go eventually. She would give him one last chance, she decided, and if he decided to turn around and shit on it, she would take Steve’s advice and save herself. For once in her life, she had to listen. Holding onto the wrong people was her best talent, but sometimes even talent has to be laid off to protect your fragile little heart. 

“We’re here,” Happy snapped her out of her thoughts.

She dreaded every step into the compound. Her heart beat up to her throat. The oxygen supply sank with every passing second.

Eliza took the familiar road to Tony’s office. He was waiting for her behind the door. She hesitated, hand on the handle. She hated confrontation. She didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t her turn to apologize, but somehow she felt like she had to. Sad, wasn’t it? He had her judging guilty without even trying, even when she didn’t need to. She was just that dependent on his approval. 

She pushed the thoughts away. She wasn’t a child anymore, she was an adult. Adults don’t make their lives dependent on one person, no matter how much they mean to them. Adults are supposed to stand their ground. She had to learn how to do that. She did it the previous night, she could do it again. Tony didn’t own her.

“You came,” Tony’s voice sounded breathy, hungover, from the corner of the room.

Eliza exhaled, a mix between a sigh and a scoff. “You left me no choice,” she said. “Sending Happy to my place was a desperate move.”

“I couldn’t reach you. At first, I thought maybe you lost your phone, but then I realized you blocked my number. If anything, you left me no choice. I wanted to talk to you without dozens of people around to ask stupid questions.”

“Why?”

“You left before I could talk to you last night.”

“Seriously? You’re just gonna act like this is all it is? Miscommunication?”

Tony scoffed. She saw the bottle of Scotch on his table, the half-filled glass. It was ten in the morning.

“Are you drunk again?” she asked.

“You don’t get to do that.”

“I don’t mind day drinking, I only mind hypocrisy.”

“I asked you here to apologize for what I said.” He took a sip.

“You were drunk, Tony.”

“And I’m sorry for that. I had one too many drinks because I didn’t want to face Secretary Ross sober. Every time I see him, I’m reminded of Rogers and what he did.”

“What Steve did?” Eliza glared. “You both screwed up! It wasn’t just him.”

“Don’t you think I know that?”

“It kind of seems like you don’t.”

“Give me a break!” 

She flinched away. Her eyes fluttered close, her feet carried her a step back, and her arms instantly lifted themselves in front of her chest as if physically defending herself was going to block the words from entering her ears. It didn’t. 

Tony’s frown crumbled. He didn’t have the power of empathy on his side, but he saw the fear displayed in her eyes and he felt a sudden ping of regret. “I’m sorry,” he said, quieter this time. He opened his arms - a peace offering. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

“You’re drunk,” she whispered. The tears stung behind her still-closed lids. “You’re drunk,” she said once again. She opened her eyes again. “I know what chronically drunk people are like, so I know that anything you say could either be complete bullshit or the honest-to-God truth. Tell me, why should I believe anything you say right now?”

He watched the tears slide almost elegantly from the corner of her left eye, down her cheek, and her neck. He waved his hands a little. “I’m not drunk. I’ve had two glasses of Scotch to fight off the hangover.”

“There’s still alcohol in your system. Too much to consider it sober.”

“You’re right, I’m not sober.”

“I know. What I don’t know is what you want from me. My pity?”

“No!” Tony scoffed. “It’s just been hard for me,” he began to explain himself. “Ever since Rogers - Steve - left, I’ve been feeling like I failed. Do you know what that’s like? I’m the man who killed the Avengers. I saw it. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Oh, come on!”

“No, hear me out. When that little witch Wanda played with my head, I saw it. I saw all of you, dead. It was my fault. I’m comparing these two right now and I don’t see much of a difference. Look, I’m on my last straw right now.”

Eliza shook her head. “You could’ve told me,” she said. 

“I tried! I tried to tell you that this is my worst nightmare come true. So many times.”

“How, by calling me a lost orphan in front of the most powerful people in New York City?”

“You don’t understand,” he said. “I was drunk and angry and I didn’t mean it.”

“You’re right, I don’t understand because you’re not making any sense.”

“I made our friends enemies of the State. I did. Rogers, Romanoff, Wanda, all of them! I killed the Avengers.”

“And you know, Sam, Scott, even Vision, just because he’s in love with a fugitive. Can’t even say their names, can you?” 

“Jesus!” He scoffed. “You’re turning my words against me.”

“Can you blame me?” Eliza asked, challenging him. 

“This isn’t about blame.”

“What, you want me to feel bad for you?” She cocked her head. “This is on you, not me. If you’re waiting for the pity party, you’re not getting any.”

“Listen, kid. I know you’re struggling and I’m sorry I’m not there for you like I used to be, but this is hard on all of us. Especially on me. This shit show is getting on my last nerve. The press, Ross, fucking Rhodey and Happy- you know, it’s not easy when the world is resting on your shoulders,” he said. 

The exasperated laugh was an answer of heavy proportions. “Boohoo, cry me a river, Tony! Honestly, you either complain or apologize, you can’t do both and expect me to roll with it.” She wished she had the same glass of Scotch he was carrying only so she could swallow the horrendously bitter taste on her tongue, but she didn’t. She was glad she didn’t. She wanted to be better than him. She wanted her words to be sober. She wanted him to understand, for whatever the desperate attempts were worth.

Tony shrugged. “It’s true. There’s a lot more I’m carrying that you don’t know about,” he said, “and I’m glad you don’t.”

“And you don’t know about the shit I have to carry,” she replied. Her lip twitched into a sour smile. “But I’m glad you don’t.”

He smirked, but it was fake. The way she spoke left no space for interpretation of just how sour she was. She was mad, offended, disappointed, all of those things and yet, she came. She always did. 

“All I need is some time to clear my head, and Scotch. Lots of Scotch.” He poured himself another glass from the small bar in the corner of his office, a small mahagoni table overlooking the New York skyline behind the compound. The perfectly trimmed grass and bushes in the front yard lead to the small forest separating the Avengers from downtown. It was beautiful. 

“You need time,” she repeated his words. “It’s funny because when you say it’s hard on all of us, I feel like it only entails you. I had to clean up your mess, again,” she said. “I shouldn’t have to. I struggle too, you know. I’m not saying you aren’t, but maybe you should take your own words into account and think about the people around you. You aren’t the only one who lost, we all did.” 

His shoulders tensed. Something changed. Was that regret she saw in the colors around his soul? She could’ve sworn she saw black somewhere, but it was hard to tell with the mess he was and the alcohol that seemed to turn the shade of anger darker, and the pride threatened to consume him. 

“I always have to take care of everything. I trained you, Eliza. I made us a team. I got you all a job you could count on. You had all the benefits in the world. Healthcare, stability, housing… you had all of that. It was safe. You guys were safe. And yet - and fucking yet - we managed to blow up. We always do. Everything always blows up, no matter what I do, and I’m tired of watching it happen without having an ounce of control in it. I think it’s time I finally focus on myself.”

“How can you say that after everything that happened? I can’t take this anymore,” she said, and she meant it. “I have to soften all the blows. It’s not even my job!”

“You need to learn how to take responsibility,” he argued.

“Responsibility?” That was the last straw. “I’ve been taking responsibility since the day I got here! I’ve been cleaning up the messes you’ve made again and again. Now, I didn’t mind. We were a family, but lately, it feels like I’m just doing it because I’m supposed to. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I shouldn’t have accepted being used like that.”

“Being used?” Tony asked, voice dangerous as he rose from his chair. “I did everything for you. You got a home, money, and a job. You met people others can only dream about. What else do you want?”

“Maybe some appreciation, for a change. I mean, are you treating Peter the same way?”

“Peter- is this what this is about? Are you jealous of that kid?”

“No!” maybe a little. “My point is that I was around Peter’s age when we first met. After everything you learned over the years and what I’ve been through, don’t you think it’s my right to tell you your place?“

“Pepper took you under her wing, Happy worries about you all the time, I mentored you. I got you back on your feet. I made sure you didn’t go to jail. Hell, I even funded your drug addiction when I didn’t even know you were taking those stupid pills, and yet, I’ve never asked you to pay me back!” 

“Oh, please,” Eliza spat back. “What would you ever do without having my mental illness as a justification for your actions? Honestly, you’re acting like that’s all I am. Fuck you, Tony! I thought you cared about me.”

“I do!” he said. “All I ever did was because I care about you. I saw your talent when no one else did. Not even Fury shaped you the way I did. So don’t tell me you’re not being appreciated! I care more than anyone else on this planet. I saved your life, goddamnit!”

“Jesus Christ, Tony, why can’t you just listen?” Fresh tears pooled in her eyes. The water crept dangerously close to the brim, threatening to bubble over. Eliza wasn’t even surprised.

She’d cried more in the past couple of days than ever before. She was a wreck. Time had done its damage. Life had taken its toll. She was bound to break eventually, she just never thought it would happen like this. She never thought it would come to this. The world stopped spinning the day the Avengers left her behind.

“I’m so sick and tired of fixing everything,” she said. “I’m not your therapist. Hell, I’m the one who needs one. I’m not just some messed up orphan that’s become your burden. You were everything to me…” The ocean was too wide and she never learned how to swim. “I looked up to you. I idolized you and wanted to be like you. You taught me so much and yet nothing prepared me for the person you’d be.”

Eliza wiped her cheeks furiously with the back of her hand. “This isn’t you! Ever since you and Steve fell out and the Avengers broke up, you’ve been spiraling out of control. You changed! You turned into this wreckage of a man, a shell of who you used to be, and that shell is filled with so much sour hostility. The Tony Stark I know wouldn’t risk everything by putting down the guests at his party. He wouldn’t hurt his friends and family in front of everyone. The Tony I know would listen to what I have to say. He’d take my worries into account. The Tony I know would do anything to protect me, but you’re not there. You haven’t been there in a very long time, but I lived with it because I still had hope. I had faith in you, Tony.” 

He aggressively downed another glass of Scotch, knuckles turned white from the hold he had on it. 

“You taught me to always believe in the good in people, and help when someone needs it. I made it my personality trait. What happened, Tony? What happened to make you this way?”

“You don’t get to do that,” he said. “You don’t get to ask me what happened when you were the one who completely lost herself all those years ago!”

“I picked myself up again! I admit that I’m broken, but that doesn’t give me the right to take it out on people. That’s what you do. You blame everyone but yourself for everything that’s wrong with you-“

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about. You won’t listen!”

“Oh, I am listening. I am listening very well. Let’s talk about what I’m listening to, yeah? Except for the fact that you’re trying to make me feel bad for one stupid slip-up-“

Eliza interrupted him with a frustrated groan, “It wasn’t just one stupid slip-up, Tony. It’s a fucking series and I’m done watching!”

“Don’t interrupt me,” he said. “You call me a hypocrite, but while you accuse me of neglecting you, it’s you who won’t listen. You think you’re so smart, prancing around at night, behind my back, with a criminal? And then you have the nerve to pretend like you’re a good girl and lie to my face! That’s what hypocrisy is, Eliza! You’re a hypocrite!”

The words tasted like poison on her tongue.

Tony was nowhere near done. The fire just kept on burning. “You’re jealous of Peter? Well, he learned his lesson after I called him out. You didn’t. You did the exact opposite of what I told you. Fucking hell!”

“What are you even talking about?” she asked.

“Daredevil.”

“What?” The name rang in her ears. Her mind instantly went to Matt. It made her wonder just how much he knew.

“Don’t play dumb now,” he bellowed. “I know you’re working with him. You’re following down circumstantial leads that almost got you killed.”

“How would you even know?” 

“I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere, remember?”

“It’s not what it looks like,” she tried to justify herself, but it was essentially all useless. Her secret was out. What terrified her most was the fact that she didn’t care.

“It’s not? Who do you think is keeping the press off your ass right now? It’s only a matter of time before your little secret comes out and then it’s Ross knocking on my door all over again.”

“You didn’t listen to me.” She remained dangerously calm. “So I took matters into my own hands.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” He threw his hands up. “You’re not a vigilante! You were with Pfeiffer when he got shot. What did he tell you? Did he play into your suspicions?”

Eliza cocked an eyebrow. “How do you know I was there?” she asked. The truth itched the back of her brain.

Tony sighed, nostrils flared. “I put a tracker into your SIM card when I got it for you.”

“You did what?”

“In my defense, you tend to get into trouble quite a lot.”

It wasn’t that easily justified. He was monitoring her like a criminal because he didn’t trust her. If her heart hadn’t been broken already, it surely would’ve broken right then and there.

“This only proves my point,” he said. “You could’ve gotten shot over a suspicion! And now Pfeiffer is dead and his blood is on your hands.”

“Don’t you dare,” she ground her teeth. “It was Hydra, you and I both know that. You just don’t want to acknowledge the fact that we failed.”

“You’re paranoid, Eliza. I stand by that. People died because of your inability to stay out of shit that doesn’t concern you-“

“It doesn’t concern me? Tony, they stole my childhood, they experimented on me and tortured me! There’s nothing more of my concern than that stupid organization! This is so much bigger than we thought. You’d know that if you’d just listened.”

“I listened, I didn’t like what I heard so I’m cutting you off,” the statement was final, she saw it in his eyes. But Eliza was done for good. He could do whatever he wanted. She was done.

“You know,” she said, “We used to be such a good team. We swore to eliminate threats. What happened to that?”

“Agendas change,” he stated.

“No, not this time. You just want to control me. I don’t know why, maybe you’re scared or maybe you just don’t have any faith in me. Either way, I’m not gonna stop. We both know that.”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“Am I? Or am I just not following your orders?”

“Not following my orders is a mistake. Trust me. You’re doing the wrong thing, Eliza. You’re chasing the wrong ghosts. If you do this, I can no longer protect you.”

She shrugged. “I’ll take that chance.”

“You don’t understand. If you do this, I’m gonna stop. If you do this, you’re no longer an Avenger.”

“I haven’t been an Avenger since Berlin.”

The emptiness in Eliza’s eyes put a distance of miles between them. Tony was waiting for her to pull back from the edge of the cliff, to run back into his arms. He was waiting for her to make a different decision, one that didn’t entail losing her, but one look into her eyes told him that he was no longer welcome. He wasn’t just losing her, he already had.

“I didn’t ask you to keep the press off my ass,” she said to him. “If Ross wants to arrest me, let him. I’d rather go to jail than sit back and do nothing to save this city. If you decide to do the latter, that’s your choice. It’s not mine. I want to see them burn the way they burned me. If you try and stand in my way, I might just burn you too.”

“Are you threatening me?” Tony asked.

“No,” she smiled, “it’s a promise.” The door handle felt hot instead of cold under her hands this time.

She looked down. The veins underneath her skin were glowing bright red instead of faint blue. In the reflection of the window, she caught a glimpse of her eyes. She was standing knee-deep in her misery and the pain did little to help her stay in control. 

He’s lying to you. She tilted her head.  Her reflection moved towards her. The window turned into a one-way mirror. Smoke started to pool at her feet. The stranger was trapped behind the glass. She pressed her hand against it, eyes switching between Tony at his desk and Eliza, clawing at the door handle. A strange magnetism kept her tied to the metal. 

She tipped her chin. Leave. Her mouth wasn’t moving, so how could she possibly hear her voice, so close yet so far away? 

Don’t look back. 

“If you walk out that door,” Tony said, one last attempt to close the distance between them, “We’re done.”

Eliza pulled. “That’s fine by me.”

“Maybe you should just think this through-“

“I did. I made this decision on my own. Nothing you say or do can change that. I may not be an Avenger anymore, but at least I’m not the one that killed them. You killed the Avengers, Tony. You ruined us. Do with that as you will, but if I were you, I’d rethink the decisions I made.”

She wasn’t sure what came over her.

“Eliza-“

“No, I’m done. Paint me the villain, I don’t care. At least then I know I’ve done it right. Here,” Eliza reached into the pocket of her jeans. The film of pictures weighed heavy in her hands. She hesitated, though the decision was a conscious one. “Good luck cleaning up the mess you made.” She let the snippets fall to the floor. Her face was broken in half, eyes scattered around, all familiar faces that once had been there but were long gone. “I’m not gonna do it for you,” she said. “You can lie in this yourself.”

All the strength Eliza displayed at the compound magically evaporated the second she set foot outside. She didn’t even tell Happy why she was running or where, for that matter. She wasn’t even sure where she was going. All she knew was that she needed to get out; she needed to put not only emotional but also a physical distance between her and Tony and everything else that reminded her of the life before, and just get out of the life she once lived for good. It was over anyway. 

Happy gave her space, he always did. He thought it was because of what Tony said, but the truth was much worse than that. She couldn’t stand being around him. He would do anything for her and that thought was so suffocating, especially after the conversation, that all she wanted was to abandon him completely. It wasn’t for her good, it was for his. She would always push him away, she would always hurt him in some way, and he would always come back, no matter how hard she kicked him.  

Eliza only realized she was running when she came to a halt in front of the memorial established downtown. Their names were engraved golden on the metal plate. The Battle of New York. A silent reminder of the day the sky opened up and aliens invaded the planet. Proof that humans weren’t alone in the universe, after all. 

She’d torn apart the last piece of them she had left to prove a point. It was pathetic. Those were just names on a plate, meaning the world to people. The faces lay scattered on Tony’s office floor. People read the sign and remembered the destruction. No one cared about the faces behind the names, unlike they used to.

They used to be a family. The names on the sign slowly grew into strangers. Eliza felt like everyone else, bystanders watching from the outside. Just names, no faces. Those heroes saved the world once, but that was all they were. The memories of happier times slipped further away. It seemed like she’d watched the time fly by from her little bubble like she hadn’t been part of life back then, only a watcher amid the public eye. 

She’d told Natasha once, “I’m afraid that if I accept this to be true, if I accept this one good thing for myself, that I’m gonna lose it eventually. Because there has never been anything good in my life before and I’m scared. Good things don’t come to people like me, not without a price.“

How right she’d been. Yet she was foolish enough to accept Natasha’s reassurance. “Stark may not be the most promising person, but I think he’s onto something with this group,” she’d said. “You deserve this more than anyone. You deserve to be part of a family. No one’s gonna take that away from you. I can’t speak for the rest, but I, for one, will always be there for you.”

“Always?”

“Always.”

I guess always was a lie, too.

Eliza wiped her nose. “No,” she whined. “Get out of my head!”

The sight must have looked insane. Anyone walking by could have easily mistaken her for a psychotic. 

Why? It’s not like I’m doing anything.

“Then why the fuck are you talking to me?”

I’m… not? 

“Liar.”

Well, to be fair, you kind of brought this upon yourself. The young woman looked like her. Same hair, same body type, same eyes, but there was something eerily different about her too. In every nightmare she had, the demons didn’t have a face. She was tormented by memories and self-deprecating thoughts.

If hell was real, she assumed this was how Satan and all her demons spoke because she hated it and it made her want to die.

Did you really think you could continue lying to yourself?

“Peter, hey,” she spoke as soon as the line of her phone clicked. “How are you?”

“Liz?” the boy’s confused voice sounded from the other end. 

“Hi!”

“Is everything okay?”

She silently wiped the snot from her nose. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” she said, and then she laughed. She laughed as if what she’d said was the truth. 

“Oh, you just usually don’t call me unless it’s urgent,” he said. “So I thought something happened. Is it the Avengers? Do we have a mission?”

“Yeah, about that…”

He’s not gonna understand. 

“What?” The school bell rang distinctively in the background. “I actually have class right now, so if it’s not that important and you don’t mind, maybe you could make it quick? Or perhaps call back another time? Not- not that I think what you have to say isn’t important. It always is! It’s just- I’m kind of behind with my grades and stuff and I really want to get into MIT. Spider-Man has really been kicking my ass lately.” He chuckled.

You’re gonna hurt him.

Eliza copied him. “It’s fine. I just- I have something to tell you and all I ask of you is to just listen. Can you do that?” she asked. 

There was a pause. “Okay,” Peter agreed. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m officially done with the Avengers. That’s the truth.”

And you can’t change who you truly are. 

“What-”

“Hear me out. Don’t say anything. Please.”

Don’t fool yourself again.

“O-okay.”

“Truth is, I’m done, Peter. I’m no longer an Avenger and I no longer want to be. Tony said some things… he said and did some things and I just- I quit. I know you look up to him, it’s your thing. You see him as a mentor and I want you to continue doing that, but my time here is over. It was the second Steve got onto that ship, I just didn’t want to acknowledge it. I tried to stay strong, and I tried to keep my faith, but I can’t. You’re too young, you haven’t known them as long as I have – hell, you didn’t know them at all. It’s a good thing, Peter, because that means you’re still innocent. There’s still hope,” she said.

The tears clogged up her throat and it was getting significantly harder to breathe. “I know you wanted us to be friends and I’ll continue being there for you, but it’s time I face the facts. The Avengers are done, at least the way I know them. I should’ve left earlier. It was only a matter of time before this would all escalate. There are some things you can’t be involved with, like the things I’m about to do, the things you’re gonna hear about me… The less you know the better.”

The cabby stopped where she told him to, his head turned patiently, waiting for her payment. She exhaled into the phone. 

“Eliza, you’re scaring me,” Peter’s voice was small. 

“Don’t be,” she told him. “There’s nothing to be scared of. I’m just trying to make amends before it’s too late, that’s all.”

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but it sounds like you need me right now. Maybe I should-”

“Drop my number, Peter. It’s for the best.”

“What, no!”

“I’m sorry.”

The phone cracked between her fingers. Glass scratched the inside of her palm. She watched as the broken device fell to the ground. She stepped on it, once, twice, until it was nothing but flat garbage. The SIM card was broken entirely, and the tracker was disabled and gone for good. Tony didn’t have anything on her anymore. She could go wherever she wanted, do what she wanted and say what she wanted. She didn’t need him and he didn’t need her. It was over. She was free. Though if that had been the truth, she should’ve felt that way, too. She didn’t. Instead, she felt fucking trapped. She felt chained. War was only just beginning. 

Eliza stood alone in the middle of downtown New York. There were no walls around her, not a shield to protect her. People bumped into her on their way down the street. The briefcases of businessmen dressed in black suits hit the back of her knee, making her stumble left to right. They were all so focused on themselves, she was nothing but a mere rock in the way that could be pushed aside. In our most natural habitat, we’re all selfish assholes focused solely on whatever target we’ve set our minds to. 

The voices were so loud, she could hear the conversations overlapping. Her ears were ringing. Emotions swarmed the air like an army of mosquitos. The tornado was heading straight for the village, strong enough to destroy everything in its path. 

Congratulations, Eliza. You just fucked up everything good in your life. 

“We’re a team,” she remembered Steve saying. “Ain’t getting one without the other.”

“I think Steve might be onto something,” Wanda came up to her one night. “I don’t know a lot about working as a team, but you guys make it seem easy. Makes me want to try and be better, you know.”

“You might just be the last straw holding this team together,” Natasha said shortly before they arrived at the UN, a dreaded talk on the plane after the events in Lagos.

“We knew this would happen eventually.” The worst part wasn’t the words coming out of Steve’s mouth, it was the way he said them. He sat in the dark, glass of Scotch in hand, blue eyes endless like the dead sea. “In the end, I don’t think we were meant to be,” he said. “Every great hero falls eventually. I think this is it. This is our fall.”

She begged him to stop, begged him to find another way, but to no avail. You can fill in the blanks on this one.

At the airport in Berlin, she looked at her friends for the last time. She had the choice between helping Steve or staying on Tony’s good side. Back then, she truly believed in him. She promised her loyalty. As she watched her friends get carried away though, her heart screamed, “You made the wrong choice!”

Eliza crossed the corner into an alley just in time. She pressed against the brick wall, the darkness shielding her from the tourists and native New Yorkers crowding the streets. So many people, and so little space. The walls caved in on her. There was so much oxygen in the air and yet not enough to make its way into her lungs the way it was supposed to.

She tore the hoodie over her head. Sweat ran down her spine. Her chest ached and the burning was only getting worse. She tried to breathe - she tried to exhale, inhale, then exhaled again. She tried everything she could think up in her fogged-up brain, but the air tore through her lungs like a flaming fire.

She threw her head back. The stone dug into her skull. Her fingers tingled. Thousand little ants covered her skin. She scratched, she gasped, but the animals fed at her like a cannibal’s teeth. The sea brought its waves higher, water filling her chest, choking on salt. She was trying to stay afloat, but it was getting harder and harder to breathe and the current grew strong enough to pull her down. 

Tony was going to let the press eat her alive, and in tow with the press came Secretary Ross. She only read the first couple of pages of the Accords, but it clearly stated that any kind of mission had to be approved by the government first. Even just the suspicion of risk had to be shared before hunting down leads. No playing the hero without the official ‘go’. Those were the rules. She broke them, clean through. She was playing the vigilante, jumping into the line of fire, using the dark web for answers. She believed Hydra was still out there and she had proof, too. She was obligated to tell Secretary Ross since Tony refused to listen - technically. Technically, she was supposed to be the good girl and wait. Sit down, look pretty. Technically. 

Eliza was never one to accept technicalities. She rather fought for what she believed in instead of following the rules. It was foolish, she knew that. It was stupid, reckless, and lacking common sense. She was aware of all of that and yet when it came to her gut, she knew she could count on it. 

Secretary Ross would arrest her the second he found out. He’d incarcerate her. She didn’t even want to imagine what they’d do to her in prison. Being an Avenger she might as well just walk naked into a lion’s den. 

Hydra was out there. They were more than willing to kill her. While she was hiding in an alley, tucked away from the world, there were people out there getting kidnapped for human experiments. The only thing standing between Hydra and success was Eliza and maybe Daredevil, but she was the bigger threat. 

Eliza loathed herself. She hated her body, hated the mind she was in. None of what she had on her felt like it belonged there. She didn’t deserve the powers, she didn’t deserve the love and care she received. Her existence was trouble, it brought danger to everyone close to her. She was cursed. She knew she was cursed, she had to be. 

You care too much about people - you might just be digging your own grave.

“Hey, lady, you alright?” the homeless man next to the trash container leaned over. She hadn’t realized he was there.

Eliza blinked through the smoke standing up to her ears. “What?” she wasn’t even sure the words came out.

“You look a bit pale. Want some beer?”

She shook her head. “I- I need to get out of here.” Her fight or flight response was damaged, she knew that better than anyone. She needed to get out, she needed to go somewhere safe. Somewhere no one could find her. Somewhere she wouldn’t be recognized.

Sure you do. Run. It’s all you know how to do. Run from the truth, run from who you are. 

She bumped into someone. “Sorry,” she apologized. 

People turned to the disturbed woman running through the masses. She paved the way by elbowing her assailants in the ribs. She ran without destination. She knew New York like the back of her hand, but the many sounds and the people made it hard to focus on the map she had painted up in her head. 

Can’t you see everyone is lying to you? Open your eyes. This is all a lie.

“Stop it! Get out of my head!”

Not gonna happen. Sorry, sweetie. We’re stuck together now. 

“Who are you?” Something high and sharp pierced her eardrum. 

I’m you. The real you.

She couldn’t see five things, only the sun blinding her into oblivion. The white stairs set in stone seemed like enough of a haven. She jumped the steps and through the gigantic doors, not knowing exactly where she was until she smelled the distant scent of candles, rosemary, and roses. Three things she could smell. That was a good start. She closed her eyes and felt the cold of the steel doors, the cool air on her heated skin, and the marble under her boots. The world finally seemed to slow down. The walls put space between them. She breathed. It wasn’t good, but it was better than nothing. 

“Can I help you?” the voice startled her. She reached into the back of her jeans only to realize she wasn’t carrying any weapons. 

Wide eyes looked around. It was no wonder the voice echoed off the walls. She stood in one of the largest rooms she’d ever seen. The windows were painted with colorful pictures -  pictures that told stories almost every child knew. Wooden benches paved the hallway. Marble walls stood high and mighty above them, almost threatening. 

The balding man lifted his arms with a smile. “I come in peace,” he said. 

Eliza took another look around. “I-“ she exhaled. “I’m not supposed to be here.”

“Please, this door is open to anyone. Would you like to sit down for a moment, catch your breath?” 

She hugged her arms around her torso. Her legs did feel kind of wobbly. “Yeah,” she said, “sitting sounds good.” 

She followed him to the closest bench. He took place next to her, but he didn’t speak until she found her sound again.

“I’m sorry, I’ve never been to church before. This is all very new to me.”

“You seem like you’ve been looking for a safe space,” the man said. “There’s no place safer than church.”

“What do I call you? Sir? Or is it Father?” 

He chuckled softly. “I’m Father Paul Lantom, but you may address me however you like. You want to tell me your name?”

“Eliza,” she told him.

“Well, Eliza, what are you running from?”

“I don’t know, life. I gave up everything I once knew, abandoned the people I loved - it was all I had left and I threw it all away. I thought I did the right thing. But now… I think I just made a huge mistake. Oh, God,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that. Fuck!”

“Do you want to talk about it? I promise I won’t tell. I’m a priest, I’m under the oath of confession, no matter what you tell me.”

She wiped her cheeks. “So you’re like a therapist in a cloak?” 

Father Lantom laughed. “If that’s what you want to call it, sure,” he said. “I can tell you don’t have the best relationship with church. Would you still like to talk?”

“I don’t know. Faith and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms,” she said.

“Religious trauma, I take it?”

“How’d you know?”

“Well, religion is supposed to be comforting. You don’t appear comfortable.”

“I’m not.”

“You don’t have to see this as confession. When you say you struggle with faith, that’s your thing. I won’t talk you into something you don’t want to. God wouldn’t want that. You can just sit here and compose yourself in silence if that’s what you’d like. I’m just going to lend you some company and an open ear, if the need arises, to make sure you’re alright.” 

Eliza frowned. “What does God want, exactly?” she asked. “Why does he let bad things happen to people?”

“God isn’t a person,” the father explained. “He’s a spirit, a deity. He’s a name, not a face. He’s whatever you believe, whatever you want him to be. Some people might see God in their pets, while others simply see him as a voice of guidance. Others don’t acknowledge his presence at all and still believe faith will show them their way. It’s not about God, it’s about what’s in your heart. Despite what a lot of people think, he’s not in control of the world. Things happen, some bad, some good, and some might be even considered a miracle. But he’s not a hero. He’s our hope, our faith, and with these two things you can turn bad things into good ones. For yourself, for others. That’s the thing about religion, about God, about faith – you don’t have to believe in him for him to have your back. Just because you’re an atheist doesn’t mean you’re going to hell. God doesn’t differentiate. We’re all the same in his eyes. Metaphorical eyes, of course.”

She clung to his every word. What once used to be forced on her seemed like a whole different thing now. The faith she used to have was twisted. It wasn’t God she prayed to, it was the face of evil. Hearing father Lantom’s words changed something inside of her; it opened the doors to her heart. She pulled her knee up to her chest. The candles on the altar in the front flickered with the comfortably cold chill. 

“I abandoned my old life to do something I believe in,” she decided to tell him. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“You say you believe in it?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it your purpose?”

“I don’t know, I’m still trying to figure that out.”

“Look inside yourself,” Father Lantom said. “Do you have to do it? Could you do something else and still get the same results? Do you live for it, or do you think about it at night because you can’t get it out of your head? Does it feel right, when you think about it?” 

She answered instantly, “Yes, to all of it.”

“Then it’s your purpose. You made that decision for a reason. You wouldn’t have abandoned your old life to pursue something you only believe half of. Also, if it was so easy to abandon it all, maybe it wasn’t meant to stay that way in the first place. There’s always something waiting for you out there, sometimes it just takes some time for you to find it. It may come in the shape of a task, a purpose, or maybe even a person. And sometimes it’s all of that combined into one.“

“What if I’m not sure yet? What if I still question if I did the right thing?”

“You’re going to find the answer,” he stated. “Sometimes it just takes a while. That is something God can’t do for you. He can only guide you in the right direction.“

“Yeah, but how do I know that?”

“Let me tell you this: when the time comes, you‘ll know. There’s no guide to faith. When you’re on the right path, you’ll know because you’ll feel it deep in your heart.”

Eliza lowered her head. “I never saw it like that,” she admitted.

“Hardly anyone does.” He smiled. “Faith isn’t a task to be accomplished. You have to open your heart to it and when you do, you also have to enjoy it. It has to make you comfortable. If it doesn’t, it may not be the right time for you.”

She thought about it. No pressure, that’s what he was saying. She always thought religion, and going to church, always came with the pressure to dedicate yourself to the cause. She’d always imagined it had to be the way Matt saw God – having blind faith, always. Once in, you can’t pull back out. Just like that. 

This time, Eliza felt comforted. 

“So does God ever send you, I don’t know, signs?” she asked him then. 

“The way you’re asking I assume you’ve been asking yourself this for a while now,” Lantom replied. 

“Yeah, you could say that. A couple of days now, actually.”

“You met someone?”

“Yeah, how did you-“

“I’ve got a lot of people asking me this particular question lately. It’s like a global epidemic has broken out.” Eliza chuckled. He smiled at that. “Everyone’s seeing signs of God everywhere. It sounds crazy, and it probably is too, but I think it’s nice to hear some positive things for a chance. God knows I haven’t been getting much peace.”

“So it is possible?”

“Everything can be a sign, Eliza.”

“It’s like God sent me an Angel,” she blurted out. At this point, the confessions came straight out of the bottle. It wouldn’t stop. “When I first met him, I didn’t think much about it, but the things he makes me feel… no one has ever taken care of me the way he does. He understands me. He came when I needed him most – no, I needed someone and then he was just there and everything made sense. Or well, the things that need to make sense make sense, the rest is just… blegh.” 

“You want to have my advice?”

“Sure, why not.”

“Seems like this is something you should pursue before it slips through your fingers.”

“He’s just so good.”

“Who’s to say you don’t deserve it? Nothing good is ever truly good and nothing bad is ever truly bad. You can’t sabotage yourself just because you think the good things aren’t meant for you.”

“They usually don’t come to me,” she argued. “Or when they do, they break.”

“That’s fear talking. You can’t let that take over.”

“But-“

“Stop making excuses. Someone you speak so highly of seems like someone you should keep around. Maybe he is a sign of God, maybe not. Does it really matter?”

Eliza pursed her lips. “This all just seems so surreal.”

“I know it does.” Father Lantom slowly rose from the bench. She looked up at him. “Think about it,” he said. “And when you need any more guidance, you know where to find me.” 

“Father,” she pulled at his robe, “Thank you,” she said. 

He smiled, patting her hand. “Anytime, Eliza.”

“Would you, uh, mind if I went to the altar and tried to pray?”

“This is a church. Why would I mind?”

His playfulness awoke a feeling of warmth within her. She nodded with a smile, excusing herself and making the long road toward the front. The cross hung high as Jesus lay nailed to it. She knelt, the steps turning colder beneath her knees. 

“You know, when all else fails,” he turned back to her on his way to his chambers, “Talking to God almost always leads to revelations. He listens, even when you think he doesn’t.”

Eliza crossed her chest. She’d seen it in movies, but there was usually a lot more holy water involved. Father Lantom made her believe that there was no wrong way to speak to God. There was no right way to believe. She stared at the altar. How easy it must come to Matt, the times he went to church, the times he went to confession. It was almost like second nature to him. He carried his faith close to his heart, always.

“I don’t know how to pray,” she admitted into the high walls of the church. “But I’ll try because I need something to believe in. I tried to hold on to hope like I was taught. I thought I could do this on my own. God, I was so wrong. I have neither hope nor do I have my life under control,” she said.

Eliza stared up at the angels set into the ceiling. They soared across the sky, watching over her. God isn’t a face. Though as she looked up, she could’ve sworn she saw a silhouette in the clouds. Hidden between the angels and the endless blue, she liked to believe she wasn’t talking to a ghost. 

“I’m kneeling here right now with nothing left to lose,” she said. Her knees ached, but she suffered through it. She suffered in the hope that if she surrendered completely, the sky would provide her with answers. “I have these powers raging through me, powers I don’t even know the full extent of. They’re- they’re changing the way I’m changing, and they’re growing, they’re getting stronger, and I’m so scared of what’s gonna happen next. I’m scared of what’s about to happen to me. It’s different when almost no one believes you. It’s just that everything and everyone’s slipping away from me. I’m scared I might even lose the last good thing in my life before this is all over.” 

She sounded so desperate, so broken. Her cheeks were wet from the tears, lips salty with the taste. She was on her knees, begging, crying out; she felt like a little girl all over again. Submissive, at the edge of the cliff. 

“I’ve been surviving for so long, I forgot what living feels like. No one’s taught me how to. And I can’t live, not like this, not when the fate of the world is on my shoulders. I just need a sign, anything, to know I can win this. That all the pain was worth it. It’s tearing me apart. I don’t know how to hope anymore. I regained some faith in this, in you, and for the first time, I feel like I have a hold on religion. But these people I’m hunting, they’re set out to destroy everything in their path. I can’t keep faith knowing I might just lose everything.”

Her lip quivered, “I can’t lose him, God, I can’t,” she said. “I like to think he came around for a reason, perhaps even a sign from you. He’s led by his faith and his grief, and all he cares about is doing the right thing. He thinks you gave him a purpose. Maybe this is mine. Maybe this is what I was made for, though I haven’t quite figured out what this is. I just know he’s with me and I’d be damned to lose him. 

“I promise to worship at your feet every day from now on if it means we make it out of this alive, that these men get what’s coming for them. I’d do anything for that sliver of happiness. I need to finish this chapter once and for all. If I have to die to ensure everyone’s safety, I will. I’d do just about anything, I swear. Just make sure the people I care about don’t suffer for my mistakes. This is my battle. My sacrifice. No one else deserves to die.” 

“You have so much love left to give,” Natasha’s voice sounded in the back of her head. “Don’t throw that away. Fight for what you want. No matter the cost.”

“I’m willing to pay every price,” Eliza spoke, God as her witness. “I’m done being in pain. I want to believe in you the way Matt does. I do. I need to win. I need this. I’ve sacrificed too much. God,” she cried. “Just this once I am begging for you to listen to me. I know I’ve committed many sins, and I know I’m probably going to hell, but if there’s at least some salvation left for you to give me, I promise I’ll be forever grateful. I’m going straight now. No one deserves to suffer the consequences of my actions but myself.“

You need to learn to take responsibility.

“I’m your disciple,” she swore.

I’ve been struggling with questions of identity as of late.

“Just don’t let me down, please. God, I’m begging you!”

Who am I?

“I need answers. I don’t know if I’ll be able to find them, but I have to try. What I’m about to do, I’m gonna do for a reason. Please, forgive me.”

He listens, even when you think he doesn’t.

She crossed her chest. “Amen.”

In the corner, where the confessional booth had its place, father Lantom watched from the safety of darkness.

“Lord, have mercy on her,” he quietly prayed. “Give her all the strength you have because that girl needs it.”

Eliza rose from the marble stairs. She was fragile, barely an adult. Deep down, she’d missed so much, she just wished to be a child again. She needed to lay in the comforting arms of her parents. All the things she’d lost, she just wanted back. 

Father Lantom copied her, crossing his chest. His face had fallen, a worried crease above his brows. The shadow next to him shifted.

“I hope all that praying was worth it.” He watched her strut the hallway towards the door. “And I hope to God he listened to a word she said or else our boy’s gonna be in a lot of trouble.”

Sunlight fell on the face beside him. Soft features had all crumbled up in worry. She stared up at the father, the crucifix clutched tightly between her thin fingers.

“You think it’s her?” the woman asked.

“Hmm. I could tell the second she stepped in.“

“What should we do?”

“Nothing,” father Lantom stated. “If I learned one thing from listening to his confessions all those years, it’s that Matthew is his father’s son. He doesn’t give up, even when he should.“

“I wish he did,” she sighed. “Just once, I wish he’d stop.”

The metal doors fell shut with a loud bang. Eliza’s steps disappeared onto the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, swallowed by sun-hungry people and the summer air.

Father Lantom gave the nun a gentle smile. “Your son is resilient, Maggie. He never goes down without a fight, and he also never loses. Besides,” he looked over at the empty bench in the back, “I think Matthew finally found a match that doesn’t completely manipulate him.” 

Maggie kissed the cross in her hands. “I just hope you’re right,” she said. 

The last thing she wanted was to lose her son before she even got the chance to explain herself to him.

Matt could hear Eliza's heartbeat from miles away. He picked her up around the area of Clinton Church, but his abilities didn't quite place her in the confines of his favorite place in Hell's Kitchen, neither did he manage to pick up the father's signature voice serenading her and taking away some of the built-up anxiety. By the time he sought her out, she was on the run again, on the way to her apartment and then, sometime later, carefully making her way to the closest taxi cab.

She told the driver to stop two blocks from his apartment building. On her way, she made sure to take extra turns just in case someone was following her. He figured the action was intentional, just something she had gotten used to, and she wasn’t going to stop, especially not in times like these. 

Then, her scent filled his nostrils, followed by the steady thump, thump, thump of her heart. She came in and the world lit up. Her presence brought fresh air into the four walls he called home. Though there was something about the way she acted. Her voice dropped a few octaves, her steps dragging tiredly across the wooden floor. It made him worry. He wondered what happened. Even the last spark he had seen hours before had vanished completely, lost somewhere on the dirty streets outside. 

Foggy had poked around, asking him all kinds of questions about the night before after he quickly showed his face in the office. He asked about Eliza and if he could get her number to check on her, just to see if she had gotten home alright. Even Karen worried. Any normal person would be after the events that took place at the party. The worst part was that Matt had to make them believe that everything turned out alright. 

“I walked her home,” he lied. “She’s… what can be expected. Stark really got to her but I, uh, figured it out. She’s okay.”

“Man, that sucks,” Foggy pouted at him. “I thought he was the good guy.”

Karen only laughed sarcastically at his words. “Won’t make that mistake again, will you, Foggy?”

“No. No, I guess I won’t. I’m sorry. Tell her that.”

Matt wasn’t planning on it. 

“Don’t you have a front door?” Eliza asked from the staircase that lead from the rooftop to his apartment. “I mean, when you said ‘backdoor’, I imagined a ground-floor apartment, not this.” She gestured to the controversial entrance. 

“I thought it would be better if no one saw you coming,” he said. 

She hummed. No smart remark, not a single joke, nothing. The wood creaked underneath her boots. He tilted his head to listen closer. He analyzed the way she inhaled, slightly quivering with every second drag, and her voice was significantly more hoarse. 

She placed what he suspected to be a duffel bag on the leather couch. “I made sure no one was following me,” she stated, concerning his earlier words, no doubt. 

“Yeah, I heard.” He felt stupid just standing there, but he didn’t know what else to do. 

“So you’re stalking me now?” What was meant as a joke sounded way more serious. 

“What if I were?” he asked. 

“I’d be offended, but given the circumstances, I’d forgive you.” 

Matt chuckled. He moved over to the kitchen, his steps methodical, knowing exactly where he needed to go, yet his arms stretched further from his body in case something might end up in his path. 

“You want anything?” 

Eliza looked over at him. “Sorry, what?” she said. 

“You want anything?” he repeated his question patiently. He opened the fridge, his bicep straining against the white dress shirt that hung clad to his torso. He had long discarded the suit jacket and the sleeves were rolled up. “I’ve got beer, wine, and water. That’s about it. I, uh, don’t keep many groceries here. I have some leftovers from the Thai place around the corner. Oh, and there’s an apple. It’s all that’s left from the gift basket I got from our last client.”

She chuckled. The truth was, her heart hurt. Not just her head but her soul. The new environment made her feel exposed. At least at the church, she had found solace. Under Matt’s gaze which wasn’t even a gaze, to begin with, but an even closer observation of her behavior, she felt naked. She felt vulnerable. He saw right through her, still trying to cover it up to allow her some modesty, but goddamnit, she knew that he knew something wasn’t quite right. He could probably smell the holy water on her. He could smell the sweat of anxiety, the dried tears, and the blood from gnawing on her lip too much. She wanted to run, though she decided against it since he would’ve found her sooner or later anyway. She couldn’t hide from Daredevil, not anymore. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked. “You sound exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” Eliza intercepted. 

He fiddled with the fridge’s door handle. “Are you sure?”

“I’m fine, really,” she said. 

“Hm.” She was lying to him. 

Against her claims, he handed her a glass of tap water. His nod motioned for her to drink. A silent demand. She lowered her head. It worked. She took a small sip, keeping her eyes on him as he brushed past her, hand ghosting against her lower arm. He didn’t have to speak for her to know. 

Once again, she looked around the apartment. The sun was slowly coming down, darkening most of the apartment and if it hadn’t been for the gigantic billboard across the building, she would’ve been wandering in the dark. 

The billboard would’ve been quite a nuisance to a seeing person. There couldn’t be many people who would volunteer to take such an apartment for longer periods unless they were, like Matt, blind. He probably found the soft buzzing at night comforting. 

Eliza felt drawn to the different pictures flashing across the screen. She walked up to the window to take a peek outside. The glass was slightly milky in its natural state, slightly discolored too, but that’s what interested her in the first place. The architecture of the place fascinated her. It suited Matt, although it was nothing like what she had expected. 

She wiped at the window, removing some of the fog caused by the sudden change of temperature inside. Matt liked his apartment cold, she realized. The windows couldn’t keep up with the presence of two people without condensation starting to prickle at the edges. 

The billboard showed a commercial for an insurance company. Ridiculous, she thought. He probably didn’t even know about the kinds of pictures that flashed across his windows every night. Insurance companies, condoms, groceries, and from time to time, tv show announcements. Not that he would even care about the show that was put on in front of his apartment. It was new to her, all of this. He had a different perception of things. What she found annoying, he enjoyed. What he hated, she considered normal. She couldn’t see herself falling asleep to condom advertisements, but the colors were nice, so maybe it wasn’t all too bad even for a sighted person after all. 

Matt chuckled behind her. “Say it,” he said. 

“Say what?” she asked. 

“You think it’s annoying.”

“What?”

“The billboard.”

“Well, this place is a shithole.” She shrugged, “but I don’t know, I think it’s a nice shithole.”

His chuckle transcended into laughter. “Yeah,” he grinned into his glass, “Sounds about right.”

“Rent’s probably through the roof, right?”

“Oh, yeah. I got a discount because of the Billboard since no one else would take it, but it’s still a lot. Especially for someone who doesn’t even make money.”

“Expensive shithole then,” she said. 

He nodded. “Expensive shithole.”

The apartment's location was unfortunate, but the room itself wasn’t all that awful. Eliza stopped at the small wooden desk that stood in front of what appeared like a supply closet. Files were scattered around, a braille printer to one side and a laptop to the other. She traced her fingers over the rough wood, feeling the dots on the papers. She wished she could read Braille, but it seemed like a hard task to learn. 

“Thank you for inviting me over,” she said.

“Sure, yeah,” he said. “How was your, uh, meeting with Stark?”

Eliza stiffened.

“You know what, forget it.” He placed his hands on his hips. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.”

She didn’t wait. “I quit.” Her nails dug into the paper. “I tore up our family picture and then I left.”

“What?”

“I left. I just… left.”

“Well, that’s- are you alright?”

“He knows about us, Matt!” The words came in a single breath.

“What?” he asked. 

“Not about you, about Daredevil.” she had to clarify. “He knows we’ve been working together,” Eliza said. “He’s known ever since our second night together. The press caught wind of it. He said he was the only one between the news and Secretary Ross. If he found out-”

“You’d go to jail,” Matt stated. She nodded weakly.  “Fuck! How did they- what is Stark gonna do now? He has to have a plan, right? He won’t just tell everyone. That’s not like him. Tell me that’s not like him.” 

She couldn’t do that. She wasn’t sure if it was like him. In the past? Definitely not. After what she experienced in the past couple of days? Who knew? 

“He said if I walked out that door, he wouldn’t protect me anymore.”

“God…Tell me you didn’t just walk out. At least not without negotiating a deal first.”

“I walked out.”

“Damn it, Eliza!” 

“I don’t care!” her voice cracked. “I don’t care, okay? Ross can arrest me, I don’t fucking care! I realize that now. I don’t care, even if it lands me in jail. The Accords are stupid rules. Why should I have to live by them anymore?” she said. “The Avengers are toast anyway. It’s not like I’m hurting anyone who doesn’t deserve it. I’m not making entire cities float. I’m simply fighting a fight no one else wants to. If that means breaking the rules, so be it.”

He began to pace the room. “This can’t be happening…” One of his hands got tangled in the mess of brown locks on his head. 

“It’s not about him. It’s not about me. This is about doing the right thing. You taught me that!” 

Matt turned around. “Do you even realize how much danger you are in?!” It was the first time he yelled at her and he regretted it the second the sound had finished bouncing his way across the apartment, and it slapped her right across the face. 

Eliza swallowed hard. “I-” she blew air through her nose. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” he cooed softly. He took a few steps closer. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“No, don’t touch me!” She shied away. Her armor faltered. The leather of the couch welcomed her with open arms. Teardrops pearled off the fabric, leaving even darker spots where the liquid slipped from her skin. 

He wanted to punch himself. “I’m so sorry.” He slowly fell to one knee next to the armrest. “I didn’t mean it. I’m not angry at you,” he assured her, but his words meant nothing. She was scared. 

Once again, she backed away until her thigh hit her duffel bag and she had to stop in the middle of the couch so as not to throw her belongings on the ground. Her hand remained in the air, a silent warning. He didn’t move, he remained on the floor, even though his knees hurt from the wood and he could feel his stitches barely holding on for dear life. He didn’t care though. This was his fault. 

She lowered her head. “I didn’t sign up for this,” she whispered. “I didn’t sign up for any of this.”

“I know you didn’t. The reason I yelled-“ he sighed, “The reason I yelled was not that I’m angry at you. It’s not your fault. I just don’t want you to get arrested. They’d put you into special containment. They would lock you up for good,” he explained. “From what I’ve heard, enhanced individuals are considered flight risks to the government, so if you were to get arrested, they could easily use that to their advantage. I can’t let that happen.”

Eliza nodded quietly. 

“I was wrong to raise my voice. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” 

“Okay, I’m sorry. I- I just don’t want you to get arrested because of me,” he said. 

“But it wouldn’t be because of you.”

“No, it would be. You know why?”

“No ‘cause I’m not a lawyer,” she told him.

He hung his head, chuckling. “In the eyes of the law, Daredevil is a criminal. I read the Accords after we met. I wanted to know how far you’re allowed to go. You know they don’t just apply to you as a group?” 

She shrugged. Her fingers fiddled with the necklace around her neck. She had forgotten it was still there. A nervous tick he had picked up on when he first met her at the police station, out of his costume. 

“You know.” He nodded slowly. “I figured. You read them.”

“The first few pages,” she said. 

“Not all of it?”

“No, it bored me.”

He shook his head.

“What I read though, I remember. I remember every word.”

“Alright. Well, the Accords state that you’re not allowed to work on missions without the government’s consent,” he said. “You cannot take any cases that haven’t been checked out by either the Secretary or his committee, and when they say you have to pull out, you have to comply. You’re a dog on a leash. Or, the Avengers are. Since you signed them, you are legally obligated to follow the Accords. If you break them, you’re automatically breaking the law. You’ll become a felon, there will be court proceedings, and then, depending on the extent of the crime, you could go to jail.”

“You did your research, huh?”

“It’s not just a rule book,” he insisted. “The Accords are the law now.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Eliza snapped at him. 

“I know you do.”

“Then why are you trying to make me feel bad?”

“I’m not! I’m trying to tell you that the rules that apply to the Avengers as a group apply to you as well. You each have to follow the rules, even outside of working together. And you know why? Because you’re not the ordinary human population. The government doesn’t want you guys allowed to roam freely.”

“If I do anyway, I’ll go to jail. Yes, I’m aware. Hey,” she asked, “where are you going with this?”

“This whole thing is a ticking time bomb waiting to explode! These people can prove you’re working with me, that we were with Pfeiffer that night… They have the means to destroy you. Because of me, you’re in danger. That is where I’m going with this.”

“Oh, not this again.”

“You know, perhaps it’s better if we part ways. Spend some time apart until all of this has calmed down.”

“I made my choice!” Eliza cried. “This decision is entirely on me. My life, my rules. I take responsibility for what I did, and for what I’m about to do. This has nothing to do with you. You want to save this city? So do I.”

His breath came in hot, labored puffs of air. 

“It’s not just some personal agenda that drives me, I actually care about the people! Don’t make this about you, Matt, not right now.”

“I’m not making this about me!” he argued. “I’m just trying to take care of you. I can’t do that if you’re in the crosshairs.”

“I’ve been in the crosshairs from the beginning. I grew up with several targets on my back. Even the law has known me for as long as I can remember.”

“What if I can’t protect you anymore, what then?”

“Then I’ll die!”

“I don’t want you to die!” He was yelling without even raising his voice, something she had done the night of the party after she found out who he truly was. They weren’t so much different after all. 

Eliza wiped her cheeks. There weren’t any tears. She wasn’t crying, she doubted she had any tears left to shed, but she wanted to. The feeling burned in the back of her throat. 

“We’ve still got time,” she said. 

“Time? We’re running against time, Eliza! I may not be able to read the clock, but I know when a timer is running out.”

“I just have to be careful! We’re in this together now, Matt. We were the second you jumped into that Butcher shop to save my ass. Your desperate need to push me away just to protect me can’t control you. I’m not going anywhere. You gotta deal with that or else we’re gonna have a problem.”

“No, you’re gonna have a problem because you’re the one whose life is in danger and whose freedom is being jeopardized just by being with me. This- this isn’t a joke. This is your life you’re gambling with, you realize that, right?”

“I’m trying to tell you that I don’t want you to leave me!” she cried out. “Don’t you get that? I don’t want you to go.”

Matt’s eyes softened. “What?” he said. 

Her bottom lip tangled with her teeth in a desperate attempt to stop it from quivering. Like her entire body though, she kept shaking. It was deadly quiet when she spoke again, and her voice paid the price, “You’re all I have left.” 

He rose from the floor, situating himself on the couch next to her. She curled in on herself, too scared to even look at him. He reached his hand out. “Eliza-”

“You promised you’d be there for me,” she said. “That’s what I need you to do. To be there.”

“I’m not leaving,” he breathed. 

“Are you sure because you seemed pretty convinced just now?”

“No.” He reached for her. This time, she let him. He tugged at her arm, gently at first, though when she didn’t get the hint, he hooked his arm around hers and pulled her towards him. She fell into his open arms only hesitantly. “I just don’t want to watch you die, okay?” he admitted. “And I don’t want them to take you away.”

“Maybe you can take me away,” she muttered. Her hand began to claw at his chest, her lifeline. 

He chuckled breathlessly. “And where would I take you?”

“When this is all over, I mean. I heard Hawaii could be nice.”

“I’ve never been north of 116th street.”

“The more reason for us to change our identities and travel to Hawaii.”

“Sweetheart,” he said, “When this is all over, I will take you anywhere you want.”

They sat like this until the earth finished turning and the sun disappeared. Soft moonlight mixed with the ads crossing the billboard screen. His heart beat steady. She used the sound to come back to her body.

“The world feels so surreal,” she spoke into the comfortable silence. “Like I’m detached from its axis and I’m just spinning there like a broken record, lost alone in the vastness of space.”

She inhaled his cologne. Hints of sweat and rain, and sandalwood on his skin. He was so warm, a human blanket draped over her, almost like a shield from all the evil in this world. His grip tightened around her shoulders; she allowed herself to fall further into the embrace. She allowed herself to drown in his touch. 

“It’s like I’m bacteria floating around in an organism, but that bacteria doesn’t have a name yet. I’m just… there. No one knows who I am or what purpose I serve, but what’s for sure is that I’m meant to cause damage.”

“You’re not bacteria,” Matt told her.

“But what if I am? What if I’m the virus? This story seems to depend on my talent to destroy things. Everything’s just gotten worse because of me. Because I got involved.“

“They would’ve found another way to cause damage.”

“If I hadn’t gotten involved, this could’ve been solved without having people die for it,” she said and pushed away from him. His arm caged her, she needed to get out. Matt continued to keep his hands on her. He let her bring space between them, but as she tried to flee, he pulled her back gently so she was facing him. 

He didn’t need sight to see that she was burning red. The temperature of her skin mixed with the jitters told him enough to conclude.

“Hey,” he said, “you’re the one who broke this case wide open.”

“I don’t- what if that’s not true?” Eliza sniffled. “What if, in some twisted way, I’m the reason Hydra is doing this? You heard Pfeiffer, they’re trying to make more super soldiers, stronger than ever before,” she said. “They learned from Project Chaos, they saw what Strucker managed to achieve with the Maximoff twins. What if – just, what if – they’re doing this because we survived, and now they’re trying to combine the elements to make something far, far worse than what Wanda and I turned out to be.” 

“Yeah, but what if scenarios are just speculation? It’s not real, at least not until it’s proven. What we need to focus on are facts. Plain and simple. Facts are what make cases. That’s our start-of point. Asking yourself what if will only hurt you more. Believe me, I know.”

“What am I supposed to do then?” 

“Trust me,” he begged. “That’s all I ask of you.”

Eliza tasted the words on her tongue. She wiped the tears away, though the sticky feeling of dried salt on her cheeks remained heavy. She leaned down slowly, her forehead pressed against Matt’s chest. His hand went around her neck, holding her there. The other rubbed comfortingly up and down her back.

“What does that even mean?” the sound was muffled through the fabric. “I mean, what are we?“ she asked. 

Matt ran his thumb along her pulse point. “I’m just as confused as you are,” he admitted. He felt her pulse jump directly behind the skin. 

She hummed. “I wish we would’ve met before. You know, before everyone convinced us that life is war.” 

He pulled her closer. His chuckle blew through the tiny hairs standing off her scalp. “No one has proved us different,” he said. “Life is war, we were just taught to always fight on the front lines, no matter what happens. We were taught that being soldiers is the default for people like us. And now… now we can’t live without it.”

“We were just kids.”

“We didn’t know any better.”

“Yeah… we still don’t.”

“No,” he smiled, “we don’t.”

Somewhere in the distance, church bells rang out. Reality crept through the cracks in the floorboards and polluted them with its negative energy.

Eliza sat up again. This time, she reached for her duffel bag. “We gotta follow down that lead,” she stated, and so the mask went back on. 

The softness of Matt’s features was etched in seriousness. He began to peel the tie off around his throat. It was a fascinating transition. The caring man she knew as Matt Murdock turned within a matter of a few seconds and there he sat Daredevil. He didn’t have to put on the suit, his attitude spoke for itself. There was just something about him, something that enthralled her, even as he turned into a cold piece of stone. She knew there was a broken, gooey nucleus inside – the man he presented on the outside was just an act. He kept the real Matt Murdock under locks, tucked neatly away where no one could find him. 

Eliza should’ve felt honored to have him be so vulnerable around her. Yet, she believed there was still plenty to learn about him and this complicated piece of a soul he harbored inside.

“What do you have there?” he asked.

“My suit.” She opened the zipper. “Not the one Tony gave me. It’s my old SHIELD uniform. I asked to keep it before I joined the Avengers. Also,” - the cell phone fell into her hands -“I got a new phone. Tony used mine to track me.”

“So you just keep an arsenal of phones around you?”

“Yeah, why? You don’t?”

“I don’t think that’s something normal people do.”

“I’m not normal,” she stated plainly. “In this line of work, you better come prepared. I have a lot more where this comes from. I could fake my death and no one would know if I wanted to.” Eliza got up. She asked, “Where’s your bathroom?”

Matt pointed in the direction he memorized.

“Thanks.”

Her footsteps disappeared. The door fell shut. She turned the lock twice, making sure it was secure, only then did he hear the shuffling of clothes on the floor. He chose not to invade her privacy. Instead, he made his way into the bedroom. He took the suit draped over the sofa and changed into it with precision. The door stayed open, just in case Eliza came around. He didn’t care if she saw him undressed – hell, he was as open as one could be. Some part of him wanted her to, some perverted part he didn’t want to listen to. Not that he expected an attempt on her life in his apartment, considering no one knew she was there, but he could never be too careful. 

His stitches pulled hard. The leather didn’t do much to protect his wounds. He groaned, some sounded louder than he planned to. He was in so much pain, every inch of his body sore, and all he craved was a good night’s sleep. But he couldn’t think about that. There was no time to rest, he told himself. Not until the worst was over.

“You okay?” Eliza stood in the doorway.

Matt struggled with the belt. “Yeah, fine,” he said curtly. His shoulder burned - the one part that wasn’t injured was giving him the most trouble. 

“Need any help with that?”

He sighed in relief, nodding. She helped him get the rest of his body tucked into the suit. The leather sat securely around his waist and everywhere else where it needed to; he couldn’t have done it better.

She peaked up at him and he tried his best to reciprocate the action. Judging by her smile, he missed her eyes by miles once again. He chuckled. “Guess I’m getting old,” he said. 

“How so?” she questioned. 

“My back is killing me.”

“You are, indeed, an old man,” she swatted some dust off his shoulders, “but that’s okay.” 

He pinched her side. “Careful. This old man can still kick your ass.”

“Oh. Do I need to have the nursery home on the line?” She spread her thumb and middle finger to the sides, mimicking a phone. “Shall I tell them to book you a single or double room, grandpa?”

The baton flew in her direction. Right before it could hit her in the face, her hand shot up to catch the piece of metal. She switched between him and his weapon, not sure whether to be impressed or annoyed. 

“Fuck off!” he said. 

She smirked. “I’m getting you back for that.”

Though once the baton was back in the air, his arm was already extended to catch it mid-air, his height offering an opportunity he didn’t miss.

Eliza remembered their first meeting. The way he flipped the sticks of metal expertly, almost like what he was doing right there, in front of her, smug and knowing damn well what he was doing. “Show off,” she said. 

Like on the first day, he forced one of the batons into her hand. “Try not to kill anyone,” he retorted.

 She saw an opportunity too and she surely didn’t want to miss it. “No promises.” 

[jxj-tracks]

Harry Potter Boys Jealousy

This is my first time writing on here, so it’s probably gonna be bad.

HARRY:

•Idk i feel like hes super up himself, so if he saw another guy flirting with you he’d just be like “hey” and hope that scared them off 😭

•would probably be talking to Hermione and Ron when he saw a guy with you

•my guy deffo has anger issues but like ig no one taught him anything >:)

•honestly I don’t think he’d care that much, he’s the chosen one after all

•I think he’d act cocky as a defense mechanism 🥋

DRACO:

•mf managers to be incredibly insecure but incredibly up himself all at once

•saunter over to you and start glaring at the guy

•straight up insulting the other dude but he just blames his daddy issues for everything

•honestly tho, he’s more so just insecure and scared that you’ll leave him

•his insults suck, but he has a big friend group that makes him seem a lot scarier 🫠

MATTHEO:

•OH MY GOD I AM LIKE ON MY KNEES

•just kidding lmao

•he is DEFINITELY the overprotective guy, but still gives you space

•however, if he sees another man flirting with *his* partner, 🫵😬

•ok so pretend this guy came up to you and started flirting with you

•mattheo Sees and obvi isn’t happy

•but cause he loves yous and doesn’t want to make you mad, he simply puts his arm around your shoulder and says smth like

“hey babe, who’s this?”

•if the guy doesn’t get the message to leave, Theo will get straight to the point

•but who knows, maybe he would just watch you from afar to see how you handle it

FRED:

•he’s a ghost at Hogwarts now so it’s not like he can do anything

•IM JUST KIDDING MAN ITS FINE

•he’s alive and well tho 💪

•definitely comes straight up to yous and hugs you from behind (tall guy shit 😖)

•probably start cracking jokes

•but like more directed for you

•so the guys just awkwardly standing there

•if he doesn’t leave yet, Fred will pointedly say

“excuse me, me and my girlfriend have somewhere to be

GEORGE:

•would be way more cautious of how to approach this, but also way more chill then george Jo

•he knows that you won’t do anything

•he’ll still come up to you and put his arm around your shoulder

•introduce himself, but wouldn’t make the guy uncomfortable 😖

•just subtly hinting that you’re taken and not interested

RON:

•bro idk what you’re talking about I didn’t forget ron 😐

•anywho, he’s probably too busy adventuring with the golden trio

•however I’ll set a scene

•you’re at dinner in the great hall, at the ravenclaw table (whether it be your house or you’re sitting with a ravenclaw friend)

•Ron’s sitting with the trio eating

•until a ravenclaw guy is clearly flirting with you

•he doesn’t even notice at first, Hermione is the one that points it out to him

“Bloody hell”

•at first he doesn’t know what to do

•but he lets you decide what to do on your own

•he’ll catch up to you when you leave the great hall and ask what happened

#harrypotter #reader #yn #harrypotterxreader #draco #dracomalfoy #dracomalfoyxreader #ronweasley #ronweasleyxreader #fredweasleyxreader #georgeweasleyxreader #mattheoriddle #mattheoriddlexreader #slytherin