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#but Matthew manages to save her <3

jackhues · 6 months

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karma - auston matthews

notes: this is based off of @matthewshisch's idea (karma is the guy on the leafs)! so s/o to her <3 also, reader is a singer :)) AND gif not mine !

likes are good, reblogs are better!

being a celebrity meant that no matter what, one thing would always be a fixed thing in your life. and that was the rumours.

one week you were dating a new guy. the next, you were engaged to some kid from your hometown. the next week, you were back with your ex.

no matter what, the dating rumours always flew around you. maybe the fact that you never made it public with anyone fuelled those even more. whatever the case, it was funny reading them.

especially when you thought about what you had planned for tonight.

a knock sounded on your door, followed by a familiar voice, "did someone order some flowers?"

you couldn't help the smile growing on your face as you made eye contact with auston in the mirror.

you were in your dressing room at the stadium, getting ready for the opening night of your multi-month tour. you'd worked hard to get to where you were now -- one of the most successful female artists in the world.

and right there by your side, supporting you for the past year, was none other than auston matthews, your boyfriend. you'd met at a leafs game years ago, but he'd only reached out to you just over a year before. ever since then, the two of you kept your relationship under wraps for the most part, doing your best to just enjoy your time together without the media's comments.

you'd talked about going public before, but for the most part, decided to let life take it's course. of course... tonight would be a pretty big surprise.

"hi, you made it," you got up from your chair, sinking into his arms for a hug.

"i wouldn't miss this for the world," he responded, placing a kiss to the top of your head. "it's my girl's big day. first tour in almost three years. nothing's gonna stop me from being here."

you grinned stupidly to yourself, finding auston's words so comforting and sweet. even after a whole year, he managed to make you feel giddy.

"i'm really happy you're here," you whispered, pulling away. "oh! i've got a surprise for you, but i can't give it to you right now. i'll give it after, okay?"

"a surprise for me?" auston repeated. "it's your day."

"hush, i wanted to do it," you said.

another knock sounded on your door, and your assistant, jenny, poked her head in. "y/n, we've got to start in ten. let's go. auston, mark's got your seat saved. head over quick, or someone'll spot you."

"that's not a big deal," auston waved it off. "if someone spots me, they spot me. it's not the end of the world."

"well, fact remains, we need y/n right now," she said. "c'mon, you can have her back when she's done her show."

"i'll see you soon," you kissed auston, before following jenny out to your position.

you adjusted your earpiece, waiting for the lights to dim. as soon as they did, the platform you were standing on moved higher, allowing you to enter directly on stage.

the lights turned back on, and the crowd went wild.

"let the show begin," you whispered to yourself.

---

"'cause karma is the thunder," you sang, "rattling your ground. karma's on your scent like a bounty hunter. karma's gonna track you down."

the crowd waved their flashlights in the air, following you as you continued dancing to the beat of the song, singing along. getting closer and closer to the surprise you planned for auston.

"step by step from town to town," you continued. "sweet like justice, karma is a queen. karma takes all my friends to the summit..."

you paused for half a second, allowing production to ready themselves and for the crowd to pay attention to the small change.

"karma is the guy on the leafs, coming straight home to me!"

you stomped on the mark, blue sparklers going off on either side of the stage -- matching with the colour of your dress and the leafs' colours.

the crowd screamed as you continued your performance, losing their minds at the confirmation that you and auston were dating.

"cause karma is my boyfriend," you locked eyes with auston in the crowd, noticing him smiling widely to himself as people nearby recorded the interaction. winking at him, you continued your song, "karma is a god."

the crowd continued chanting throughout the song, no one truly getting over the lyric change you'd done.

you had a feeling there were gonna be rumours about this for a while.

---

tags : @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @svechnikovvv , @hockeyboysarehot , @emptyflowerpots , @mysticaldonkey , @lam-ila , @babydollmarauders , @starjoyyy , @kjohnson-91 , @gavinbrindley, @hischierdevils , @jackhughesily , @panarin10 , @equallyshaw , @power2myheart , @lynnismypseudonym , @beccaiscold , @akengii , @nowandkei , @cinnamonpancakes , @mitchymainer , @lifeofpriya , @marshmallow-babe, @hughesx3 , @emsully2002 , @starsandhughes , @huggy-hischier73 , @doglady5678 , @thatoneblog , @exonct07 @hughesmedicine , @qwanelledingele , @mindless-rock , @ireadthensuetheauthors , @huggy-hischier94, @slaythehousedownboots , @diary-of-jj

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#naqia writes!#auston matthews #auston matthews blurb #auston matthews x oc #auston matthews fic #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews x y/n #auston matthews imagines #auston matthews blurbs #toronto maple leafs x reader #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl #nhl one shot #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey one shot #hockey fic #hockey

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fromabasementonthehilll · 10 months

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My Girlfriend Is a Witch (pt.1)

͙⁺･༓☾ - Summary: after finding the cabin, lottie ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎had begun acting weirder than usual.

Pairing: lottie matthews x fem!reader

Warnings: ...

Pt.2

a/n: thinking of making this into 2 or 3 parts?? this is more of a build up so I'm sorry if it's a bit slow!

∘₊✧────────────────────✧₊∘

It had been a week, maybe more, after the crash. You counted the days - believing it wasn't long until you would all be found and saved. Everyone followed the same belief, but it slowly began to lose its appeal as the days got longer and there was no promise of rescue, and you had lost track anyway.

Misty had treated you alongside everyone else, she wrapped your gashed shoulder up with a bandage out of some emergency aid kit in the planes cabinet, which you had been unwrapping everyday to keep clean. It was fine at first, but the shortages of antibiotics and extra bandages had it healing much slower than it should've, it hurt like a bitch and you were putting up the best 'tough' act you could to avoid adding anymore stress to the situation.

You sat outside of the cabin on a broken log, setting up fire to cook dinner, faintly smelling the herbs in the air that Mari managed to find whilst the others were either doing laundry or getting water from the nearby lake. Lottie hadn't been doing much, though. Her mind was in a different place ever since the crash, you noticed as she began to act differently recently, but you thought nothing of it - everyone else had been stressed, unorganised and tired, so why would it be out of the ordinary for Lottie to feel the same?

You and Lottie began dating a month before the flight, she had confessed to you one day after practice - you watched panic on her face as she barely managed to get her words out, before you laughed in reassurance and told her you felt the same way. Neither of you had told anyone about your relationship and wanted to keep it that way - it wouldn't benefit you or her.

"Hey, you okay?" she came up to you, sitting on the log opposite of the one you sat on, her expression ardent each time she saw you.

"Yeah, is Shauna done with the meat yet?" You asked, feeling hunger eat away at your stomach. "No I don't think so, she's trying to get Jackie to do something," she explained, "I'm sure she'll be done by the time you set up the fire, though." you nodded, giving up on rubbing sticks for the time being. "You look real good for someone who's stranded in the wilderness, y'know" she laughed, watching you trying to rub off the ash from last nights fire, "Shut up, Lottie" you teased with the same toothy smile she loved.

It took you a while to get used to the new situation, though more often than not you were helping around with things. In around 5th grade your parents thought it was a good idea to get you into girl scouts, you partially hated them for it - the uniform sucked and you'd always be covered in dirt. You had been mentally reciting the folklore stories told by the counsellors; as the wilderness caved in some of your old memories, often wondering if they had any truth to them. You stayed there until you turned 14, learning a bunch of survival skills that you brushed off as stupid, it was ironic how useful they were now.

"Lot, how are you?" You hadn't asked that in ages, too preoccupied with surviving, just as everyone else had been. Lottie's breath hitched, knowing she wasn't fine at all, considering her meds ran out. "I'm fine, I just missed you (y/n)." She smiled sheepishly, suppressing the doubt she had in her own words. She truly did miss you, the distance that brewed between you two wasn't as bad as it could've been, but she needed you the most right now.

You could sense her unease, standing up to sit next to her, "You can talk to me, you know that right?" You moved your hand towards hers, smiling warmly as you looked at each other. her eyes were filled with anguish, her jaw clenching before she spoke,

"Promise you won't think I'm weird?"

"I promise."

You leaned towards her, watching as she tucked her hair behind her ear before letting loose of her worry, "I've had these strange visions," Her gaze was diverted to the floor, "and I've been hearing things." she shook her head in disbelief, almost shocked; confused. "What kind of visions?" You kept your eyes on her, not thinking any less of her. "I don't know, it's like I can see what happens before it happens." She gave you a sorry look, you opened your mouth to speak before being interrupted by Shauna, "Here." Jackie stood behind her as Shauna handed you the meat, looking at it in complete disgust.

Lottie wasn't given the opportunity to offer you an explanation, but it made sense to you, considering her strange act for the past week.

The night grew colder than the last, you had been sleeping in the attic with lottie for the past few days to prove it wasn't haunted, and you struggled to keep heat upstairs. "Just sleep here, near the fire." Shauna stated after you had tried to haggle for more blankets, you refused, though, wanting to spend more time with Lottie and keep an eye on her after she had opened up to you. "well feel free to come downstairs, there's always room." she finished, laying down the pillows.

You climbed the ladder to see lottie already there, facing the window - illuminated by the moon and stars. sitting behind her, you spoke, "Another vision?" It was a couple days after she had spoken to you about them, and she told you what she could. They weren't too frequent, but when they happened you'd stay close to her.

"I heard a baby crying this time, it went on and off for a while, but I cant figure it out." Her words were cold and hurt. You were the only one who knew about her newfound state, since you swore not to tell anybody to avoid Lottie seeming crazy to the others, and that's why you tried your best to understand, to help her. but often your help was useless, you figured it might've just been a trauma response to the crash, and you stuck around. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders, hugging her from behind, bringing your body close to hers and resting your head on the back of her neck.

"Things'll gonna be okay, Lottie." Your voice was warming, bringing slight comfort to her discomfort.

You two sat there for a while, your eyes resting as she gazed at the night sky, before she turned to face you. "What if they won't be?" She bit her lip, making constant eye contact with you. She'd wear your jewellery often, you assumed it just got lost in the crash until you noticed, but she just wanted you close to her when you weren't around, and talking to each other for more than a minute was rare lately, so she had resorted to constant distress and longing.

She couldn't risk hurting you as a result of her own disturbance, just like she had before, and she subconsciously needed your reassurance that things wouldn't go that way.

"Why would you think that?" You shook your head, seeing Lottie avert her gaze to your shoulder, "Because things haven't been in our favour for a while." Her feelings were daunting to figure out, you looked up at her with sad yet hopeful eyes. "Stressing about it isn't gonna make it any better, Lot." You chuckled lightly, sensing tension brewing and wanting to avoid her mind going back into the dark place it would often wander to. She smiled in return, her eyes softening at your remark. "Hey do you remember when we would go on those road trips? you'd be so tired driving, I'd have to remind you not to crash into a tree" Lottie spoke, you saw her jaw soften and heard her laugh filling the wooden room, "And you would play shitty music just to rile me up," You added, "What?? I played it because I liked those songs (y/n), don't judge me,"

You two would often drive to seattle in your old beaten up sedan to visit your family, though you'd always make sure to turn it into a full blown camping roadtrip each time - since Washington was on the complete opposite side of New Jersey.

"You think we can go again after we're back home?" It didn't even cross your mind that Lottie thought there was chance of rescue, you were taken aback for a moment. When Lottie was with you something would alter inside of her, as if everything negative she ever believed had dissipated, you gave her hope.

"We'll go wherever you want."

She smiled a moment before her eyes looked up to yours and then down to your lips - then back to your eyes again, she kissed you and you could've sworn you felt religion in her lips; how they caressed yours with trails of grace.

"Are you fucking kidding me lottie?? what's gotten into you?" A riled up voice spat under lottie who had just stood there. "Nat, calm down." Shauna intervened, you walked out of the cabin, rubbing your puffy eyes as they adjusted to the light, woken by the voices after the best sleep you'd had in a while. "What's going on?" You looked towards Nat and Lottie.

"Lottie's acting like she's in The Craft or something, sort her out before she casts a spell on one of us." Natalie faced you with annoyance, your bottom lip slightly hung out - still half asleep. Everyone knew something was up with Lottie after she bashed her head into the window, it wasn't that much of a secret after all. Most were worried and you could tell, and so Natalie's reaction had you confused, you looked around to see everyone waiting for your response.

"She's been through a lot, like the rest of us. just leave her alone, Nat." You sighed, everyone went back inside - Natalie flailing her arms as you gestured for Lottie to follow you somewhere deeper into the forest. "What happened? are you okay?" You stopped amongst the woods, "Yeah, fine." she looked distressed and distant, crossing her arms, "Just ignore her, she didn't mean it," Lottie cut you off as her rushing thoughts came out,

"But what if she's right? what if I really am going crazy?"

"You're not crazy Lottie, you're just as fucked as the rest of us, nothing more." Your reassurance seemed to get through to her, your words meant the world to her and you knew it.

"You don't think there's something wrong with me?" Her face was almost pale, skin rough and almost loving eyes.

"Oh my god, of course not," you faltered into a feathery smile, "You're perfect, Lottie." You watched as her face began to regain her warm colour, softening at your words. Sometimes it felt like the world stopped around you when you were near her, you would've done anything - just to see her okay again, and she would've done anything to see you carefree and happy, just like you used to be.

She looked to the ground, laughing in relief while small tears left her eyes. "And I'm the sappy one?"

"Yeah okay, I'm not the one who wrote a love letter as an apology," She slapped your shoulder and you kept giggling like a maniac, before you were stopped dead in your tracks by Misty carrying an empty water bucket, "Are you two planning on helping?" One hand on her hip and the other holding out the bucket, "It's unfair to think you're exempt from helping when we should all be-"

"Jeez okay we'll fill it up." Lottie suppressed her laughter the best she could, running to take the bucket from an impatient Misty.

After getting back to the cabin, you settled on the living room floor with a blanket and a book. You never read books much before, however somehow it had become a routine by now.

"What're you reading?" Lottie asked, sliding down next to you.

"To the Lighthouse, Virgina Woolf. I found it in one of the drawers in the attic."

"Any good?" You never took Lottie as a reader, her interests only really came to surface when you would talk about yours, "I'll finish it and let you know." You looked at her with a smile, closing the book and resting it to the side for the time being.

Your mouth was filled with sickening sweetness as you chewed on the last of your food, which just happened to be the gummies your mom packed you 'for the road'.

There was no food left, and your hunger began to yearn for something else - someone else.

And her winter was cursed with your bewitchment,

the loving haze which she had caused upon you herself.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #lottie x reader #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews #yellowjackets oneshot

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 11 months

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Don't Really Know A Lot About Love

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: reader is kidnapped because yeah, cannon level violence, oral (f receiving), slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms, fingering, praise kink Matty, unprotected sex (wrap them joysticks okay), creampie, implied cockwarming I think

Genre: angst, smut, & fluff

Summary: Life after Daredevil was supposed to be simple. Apparently, there's no such thing as 'after' him, at least not for you. “I don't really know a lot about love // But you're in my head, you're in my blood // And it feels so good, it hurts so much” - About Love by MARINA

A/N: People wanted a part 2 for Lies: Don't Wanna Know for some reason???? Either way, I wrote one.

Part 1

***

The first few weeks after you stopped seeing Daredevil, Matthew, were... hard. Harder than you expected. You'd become so accustomed to seeing him, even if your time consisted of sneaking in through open windows at the witching hour to share kisses nobody can know about. You miss him more than you wanted to admit, more than you wanted to miss him. You're surprised how much it sucks knowing he won't come back, but you go to work, you go out with your friends, you even let them set you up on dates, because it's not like you can tell them you're mourning the end of your barely a situationship with a local vigilante. You do your best to reestablish normal, the normal you had before he snuck in to hide in your apartment that first night you met.

Tonight, you don't have plans with your friends so, as you walk into your apartment after work you're very ready to take it easy and relax alone. You don't even manage to get your shoes off before something is pulled tightly over your head and you're thrown over a shoulder with your arms held tight against you. You flail your legs fruitlessly hoping to injure your kidnapper as you're carried presumably out of your apartment building, an assumption confirmed when you're eventually tossed into a car but before you can jump up to put up some sort a fight a needle is jammed into your neck and you hiss momentarily before losing consciousness.

When you come to some time later you immediately rub your eyes to adjust to the lighting. A quick look around and the first thing you notice is the three gun wielding strangers around you. One on each side and one behind you.

"You'll have to excuse them. I didn't want to tie you down like an animal but, of course as a result precautions must be taken." Your head snaps to the source of the voice and down the stairs comes Wilson Fisk.

"And you think you needed 3 guns on me to keep me in line?"

"Better safe than sorry."

"Sure."

"Apologies, my name is-"

"Wilson Fisk. I know who you are." You say cutting him off with your arms crossed.

"My reputation proceeds me as always."

"Of course it does, you tried to singlehandedly ruin hell's kitchen."

"You're misinformed dear, I've only tried to save it. Make it better than it was."

"By forcing minorities out of their communities? You'll have to excuse me if the employment of white supremacist ideology doesn't get me jumping for joy."

"White supremacist ideology? That's what you think of me?"

"That's what I think of anyone who forces people out of their homes by buying out the property and making it too expensive for the people to stay there, in their community and brands it as making said community better." You roll your eyes.

"Hm." Fisk nods contemplatively.

"What am I doing here? I can't imagine you kidnapped me because I disagree with your pompous arrogant savior complex."

"Did you know a certain red suited pain in my ass, follows you? Regularly. He watches, lurking just out of sight. Like he's guarding you."

"You kidnapped me because you think daredevil is my stalker?"

"He once tried to get at the woman I love he tried to take her from me."

"Wow you're like a cartoon. You kidnapped me because Daredevil tried to steal your girlfriend?"

"My wife!" He snaps.

"Semantics." You shrug. "I'm not Daredevil's girlfriend, I'm not 'the woman he loves' so whatever your beef is with him, trying to use me to lure your archnemesis here like this is some sort of bad action flick let me be clear, it doesn't matter who you have sitting in this chair, you could have anyone from Hell's Kitchen, maybe even anyone from New York sitting here and Daredevil will show up not because of your victim but because you are Wilson Fisk and he is Daredevil, and he stops guys like you. That's what he does, Fisk." You say. You're annoyed, being caught in the middle of drama that has nothing to do with you because of a man you haven't seen in weeks. All you wanted to do tonight was shower and watch a movie.

"It seems you don't know the hold you have on him." Fisk smirks.

"Gimme a break." You scoff. Fisk looks at you as if he's about to say something in rebuttal, but before he can say whatever he's planning to, there's a beam of red knocking out one of the armed men surrounding you. The other two turn sharply to find the source of the- apparently baton, that flew towards them which now sits on the floor. You watch as Daredevil rolls towards you to grab the baton.

"Hey." He says standing up.

"Hey." You nod. Daredevil pulls you out of the chair and behind him as he takes on the two goons left standing.

"I told you to shout. You didn't shout." He huffs over his shoulder as he fights.

"And yet you came anyway."

"Of course I did." He scoffs knocking out both of the remaining gun toters. You're not paying enough attention, forgetting the guys by your chair aren't the only enemies in the room and you shout when Fisk grabs your arm from behind you.

"Y/n!" Daredevil shouts turning to you.

"Nice of you to join us, Devil of Hell's Kitchen, although you did interrupt a conversation and that's quite rude." Fisk says.

"Fisk thinks you're stalking me because you're in love with me." You tell Daredevil.

"We can test my theory, now that you're here." Fisk says, his grip on you tightening.

"Hey watch it!" You hiss at him.

"Leave her alone Fisk! Your problems are with me. She's got nothing to do with this."

"Yeah, I told him that already, he doesn't care." You scoff. Fisk hauls you over to the balcony of his penthouse, swinging the doors open.

"Let's see what he does about this one hm?" Fisk smiles at you before pulling you over the railing. He's holding your shirt tightly, dangling you off the balcony on the top floor of this building and the longer this nightmare goes on the less you want to believe any of this is happening. YOU ARE DANGLING OVER THE EDGE OF A FUCKING BALCONY. "Daredevil! Our friend here is in quite the pickle it seems. You can't save her, and fight them, but they'll never let you get to me. What oh what are you going to do about this?" Fisk jerks you around for emphasis. Daredevil is still for entirely too long in your opinion, you don't know what he's contemplating but the lack of solid ground beneath your feet has you less than patient.

"Daredevil do something!" You shout.

"This is stupid Fisk. You know she's got nothing to do with this." Daredevil tries to reason with him. Reason with the man holding you over the edge of a 20-story building like a rug he's about to dust off.

"Oh my God! He does not care Matthew! STOP TALKING AND DO SOMETHING OR I SWEAR YOU WILL HOPE HE KILLS ME!"

"I like this one. She's spirited." Fisk says with deranged excitement in his eyes.

"Look I'm not going to let you get hurt okay?" Daredevil tells you.

"Be careful making promises like that." Fisk says, losing his grip on you momentarily, just long enough to make you scream and grab his arm. You cannot think of a shittier way to die than being splattered on the streets of New York because one of Daredevil's enemies thinks you're more important to him than you are. From this height, by the time they scrape you off the pavement your family will have no choice but to cremate you or something. A casket would be pretty useless for an inkblot of a person. You close your eyes and think of anything but the fact that your life hangs in the hands of a flighty part time vigilante and his ability to stop a psychotic rich man. You keep them closed even as you hear grunting and punches landing because if Daredevil is losing against Wilson's goons you literally cannot deal with watching it happen. For a moment it all stops, the sounds of fighting settle and you think for sure these are your final moments, even more so when suddenly Fisk's grip on your clothes loosens entirely and you're falling. You don't realize it at first, it's a rush of air around you, and at 20-plus stories up the wind has been beating your face since you got dragged out to the balcony. You don't realize it at first, but then you're screaming and flailing as the sky gets further away. In the next moment, Daredevil shoots off the balcony towards you. He can't fly can he?! What does he think he's going to do in this situation? Holy shit you're going to die. You close your eyes and brace for impact but Daredevil catches up to you surprisingly fast and his arm wraps around you tightly. Your eyes open again when you feel something solid beneath your feet. Daredevil is lowering you onto a balcony. How did- you look around for a moment. Same building, several stories below Fisk's penthouse. Daredevil grabs your shoulders and your eyes snap to his face- well, helmet.

"Are you alright?! You aren't hurt, are you? Did I-" He trails off taking a nervous breath.

"I'm fine. Shaken up but not hurt, how did you do that? We should've hit the ground."

"My batons have grappling hooks I just used one. I told you I wasn't going to let you get hurt." He says. "We should get you home."

"I'll- call a cab." You say.

"No. No way. I'm not- I will take you home myself. I won't risk anything else happening to you tonight." He says. As much as you want to argue with him, you have no desire to get into any more nonsense tonight.

"Okay." You say. Matt scoops you into his arms and grabs his baton, shooting the grappling hook towards the neighboring roof. You're surprised he can carry you so easily as he hops from building to building with very little sign of exertion. It's not long before you're back in your apartment.

"I'm- I am so sorry you got dragged into all of this y/n."

"You don't have to be sorry. It's not your fault Wilson Fisk is a delusional psychopath."

"Psychopath I can probably give you but delusional I'm not sure I can agree with." He huffs out a chuckle.

"Come again?! You're not sure you can agree with delusional?! He kidnapped me because he thinks you're in love with me. We fucked for a few months and then we stopped talking to each other, now I dunno about you but that situation didn't seem like love to me at all."

"Yeah- yeah I know that because of the circumstances we may not have had love between us but he was not so far off in his conclusion. I do care about you way more than necessary for our... arrangement."

"Huh." You mutter.

"That's all you have to say? 'Huh'?"

"I'm not sure what kind of response you're expecting from me Matthew."

"You can start by telling me what's on your mind right now."

"You're very good at faking indifference. If you care for me oh so much I don't understand what happened that night. You left."

"You told me to."

"I told you I wanted more than you were offering to give but if you cared for me as much as you claim to now why wouldn't you say something? What's the point of caring if you plan to do it in secret?"

"My life is messy and complicated. I wanted to protect you from it. I thought- it would be safer the less you were involved but I couldn't- I couldn't stay away when you asked me to."

"Well, clearly that was not a correct assumption."

"If I had known that I would've-" He trails off.

"Would've what? Clearly pretending not to care didn't work. You can't protect me with this one foot in one foot out thing you've got going on so if that's still all you're willing to offer you have to leave." You say. Matthew sighs and you watch his jaw muscles move as, you assume, he contemplates his response. As the moment of silence drags on you're sure he's going to bid you goodnight and climb out the window just like he did the first time you kicked him out but, to your surprise, his hands slowly rise to the top of his pointed helmet and, with notable hesitation, he tugs off the identity obscuring armor on his head. He clears his throat once he's removed it.

"My name is Matthew Murdock, by day I'm a defense attorney at a firm, called Nelson, Murdock, and Page. It's run by myself and my best friend from college and a woman insane enough to stick with us after she saw firsthand that our initial attempt at our own firm kind of went to shit."

"Matthew Murdock."

"Yes. I was born and raised here in Hell's Kitchen oh and I've been blind since I was nine."

"You're blind?"

"Hard to believe I know but it's true. I can't see in the traditional sense, the world looks as if it's on fire, just blobs of reds and oranges really but I have other ways of- perceiving the world. My other senses are extremely helpful."

"So what happens now?"

"What?"

"I mean- thank you for sharing Matt but like- what happens between us now?"

"You- you wanted more from me, more than late night meetings with an anonymous vigilante, right?"

"Correct."

"Do you- would you still like that?"

"Would you like that?"

"I have always- y/n, it is not even a question of if I want it. I've always wanted more but it's something I never allowed myself to hope for."

"And now you will?"

"If you'll still have me." Matt has the sense to look at the ground nervously as he mutters the words. You almost want to chuckle, as if a blind man can truly find the floor more interesting than the conversation you're having. You take the few steps necessary to cross the short distance between you two and latch your hand onto the collar of his suit, pulling him towards you in a searing kiss that catches him off guard but he's quick to reciprocate. His hands settle on your waist and like second nature, yours wrap around his neck. Even after weeks apart there is no strangeness, no feeling of unfamiliarity as Matthew's hands roam your body. They pull you closer to him, trail across your back, under your shirt, as if he's trying to feel all of you at once. You walk Matt backwards towards your couch but before you can push him down onto it he turns the pair of you, guiding you to sit instead. He drops to his knees and pulls your pants and underwear off in one go.

"God I've missed you." Matt mutters between your legs before burying his face in the apex of your thighs. Your fingers shoot down into his hair as he laps at your center.

"Holy fuck." You sigh, your back arching at the feeling of his tongue. He lets out a grunt when you tug at his brown locks in response to a particularly sharp lick. One of his hands comes up to your thigh, holding you open for him, while his other hand joins his mouth between your legs. When two fingers slide into you and curl just right you realize Matt still seems to know exactly how to toy with your body. He focuses his lips around your clit while his fingers toy with the area inside you that has you whimpering and squirming against him. "M-Matt. Fuck!"

"Come on baby, come for me." He mutters into your clit and between his unrelenting digits thrusting into you and his lips sucking at your clit his request is easily met as your body tenses up and your release washes over you with a drawn out moan. "That's it." Matt muses, working you through the orgasm with his fingers. "You always get so tight after you cum." He groans still pumping his fingers into you while you draw shuddering breaths in an attempt to recover.

"Matthew-" You whimper pulling him up to kiss you. His fingers continue stroking your inner walls, slower now, working you open gently.

"You have no idea how badly I've wished to hold you again since you sent me away." Matt breathes against your lips as he works off the bits of his Daredevil suit.

"I'm sure I have an idea." You mutter back running your fingers against exposed skin once his suit hits the floor. Matt adjusts you on the couch, pulling you towards the edge and standing to line himself up with your entrance.

"Oh you think so?" He clips.

"What? Did you think it was easy for me to send you away like that?" You ask.

"You made it look pretty easy." Matt chooses that moment to finally sink into your heat with a strangled groan. Whatever retort you had in mind dies before you can say it as Matt settles into a rhythm between your legs. His thrusts are sharp and quick, your back arching towards him, chasing the pleasure he's so easily bringing you.

"Oh God Matt!" You groan. Your nails drag down his back and the hiss he lets out tempts you to do it again as he pumps into you steadily. Matt's fingers dip between your bodies and find your clit with ease. He rubs precise circles against the bundle of nerves reducing you to whimpers as the knot in your belly begins to tighten.

"Wanna feel you cum for me sweetness." Matt grunts and with a few more thrusts plus his fingers on your clit you're whining his name as release hits you hard. "That's it." He hums with a satisfied grin before tightening his grip on your hips. His hands tightening against you lets you know he's not far behind and his thrusts grow sloppy as he chases his end.

"Let go Matty. Wanna feel you fill me." You breathe out and the words seem to be the final push he needs, his hips stilling and that familiar warmth spreads through you. You both lay there for a while, the only sound your slowing breaths as you simply enjoy each other's presence.

"So many times I wanted to see you, but I thought you would be angry if I showed my face again." Matt eventually murmurs against your neck where his head is still buried.

"I probably would have. Unless you were going to do what I asked."

"Well if I'd known Fisk was gonna kidnap you even without me in your life I just might have."

"That's what you get for stalking me I guess."

"I'm sorry-"

"Stop apologizing. It was Fisk who kidnapped me. Plus you got to rescue me like the hero in a fairytale. All's well."

"Thank heavens for that." He mutters wrapping his arms a little tighter around you. You can't say you expected to find Daredevil back in your life when you first sent him packing, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't thrilled to have him back. On much better terms this time.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #daredevil fluff #daredevil angst #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil smut

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adriennebarnes · 6 months

Text

The Start of it All

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Hispanic!Reader

Summary: The day Y/N started working in Walter’s district and called him “Don Refri” for the first time

Warning: Masterlist pinned on my blog, it’s probably short.

A/N: i wanted to create a fanfic universe so it’s a series of one shots that take place in the same universe. Like a multi part series without the commitment which is literally PERFECT for me. If you have any ideas of what you want to see take place in this universe like in Walter and Y/N’s relationship, let me know!

Walter was in his office with the commissioner wanted to talk to him.

“What is it? Is there something wrong?” Walter asked.

“There’s nothing wrong, I found a new records clerk.” Harper told him.

“Do we really need a glorified secretary? We’ve been handling the files just fine, Harper.” Walter said.

“The time you spend creating police reports could be used actually solving cases. Whether you like it or not, a records clerk will be here. You can’t do everything on your own, she starts tomorrow.” Harper said, walking out of Walter’s office.

Walter sighed, running his hand through his hair. He knows he had no reason to be mad that a new person would come work here. He just felt that a new person would ruin the flow of things. He won’t know until he meets her though.

Y/N moved to Saint Paul 3 weeks ago and she finally got a call about the job she applied for. She moved from Miami to Quantico for FBI training but when failed the physical assessment, even after weeks of training, she decided to move to Minnesota. Why Minnesota? Who knows, she’s not use to the cold, but it was a nice change of scenery. She managed to get a nice studio apartment with her savings from working as a receptionist in Miami. She applied as a records clerk for the Saint Paul Police Department, Western District (I’ve been researching, they don’t organize the police department by precincts, only few cities do), and she got it! Now she was talking to her Miami bestie.

“Why did you choose Minnesota instead of staying there in Virginia? Do you know how cold it’s going to be once it hits winter?” Her bestie, Melissa, said.

“I know, I know, ni me lo recuerdes, but I’ll be making more money here than in Florida.” Y/N said.

“Fine, what are you going to wear for your first day on the job?” Melissa asked.

It was the next day, Y/N was putting professional clothes to make a good first impression. She decided to leave her hair down and drove to the station. Once she found parking, she entered the precinct and saw five people standing by the cubicles.

“Good morning, Y/N, we spoke on the phone, I’m commissioner Harper, these are our technicians, Matthew and Glasgow, profiler and psychologist, Rachel, and our best detective, Walter.” Harper introduced everyone to Y/N, shaking everyone’s hands respectively.

When Y/N went to shake Walter’s hand, she felt a little spark when they touched. They made eye contact and thoughts that were running in their heads were less than professional. Y/N thought about how it would feel to run her hands through his hair or having his firm hands touch her body. Walter was thinking about how it would feel to kiss her and what sounds she would make when doing so. Maybe having a new person in the precinct won’t be so bad after all.

“It’s very nice to meet everyone, can’t wait to start working here.” Y/N said with a smile. Harper showed Y/N where her cubicle was and she settles down.

Walter watched Y/N for a whole before heading to his office. The morning was pretty calm, when Walter entered the break room to grab his lunch, he saw Y/N eating her lunch, talking to Rachel at the table like they were old friends. He stood by the counter to eat his sandwich.

“So what’s the story of the detective?” Y/N asked quietly.

“He’s a good detective, but he’s closed off, kind of a grouch, we call him detective grumpy but obviously not to his face. I mean, I understand why he’s closed off, I’ve seen the photos of the cases he works, it’s brutal. I can’t imagine actually being there in person.” Rachel said. Y/N looked back at the detective and looked away.

“I Can see that too, but I think it’s better to talk it out, a desahogarte.” Y/N commented. “Bottling up your feelings can’t be good in the long run.”

One night, Y/N and Walter stayed late at the district because they cracked a big case so Y/N is doing the paperwork for it right now. It was kind of quiet so Y/N decided to break the silence.

“So, Detective Marshall, what got you interested in working in homicide?” Y/N asked. Walter looked up from a file he was reading to look at the woman.

“Am I required to answer?” Walter asked.

“You don’t have to answer, I was just trying to make conversation seeing as we’re here, alone.” Y/N commented. Walter rolled his eyes.

“I was on SWAT before, then I switched to homicide.” Walter said.

“Why did you make the switch?” Y/N asked.

“I don’t want to talk about this, just finish your work.” Walter said, looking back at the file, reviewing Y/N’s work.

“Whatever you say, Don Refri.” Y/N commented and Walter looked back at Y/N, seeing her slightly smirk.

“What did you just call me?” Walter asked.

“It’s ‘mister fridge’ in Spanish. Since you’re kinda closed off, you don’t talk, you don’t let what you’re feeling be known. You have a poker face all the time, it’s good when you’re interrogating a perp, but it’s not so good for the soul. You’re kinda cold as well, so until you learn to express your feelings in a positive way and not bottle them up, you will be Don Refri, okay? Okay.” Y/N said as she continued typing. “I wanted to be an FBI profiler before coming here. I was in Quantico and everything, I was training for weeks but when it finally came to the physical assessment, I couldn’t do it. I failed the times 1.5 mile run and got a stress fracture. So now I’m here. But I don’t think I want to become a cop.” Y/N shared and Walter just hummed. “In my culture we’re very family oriented. I moved from Miami, I’m far away from my friends and family, I’m all alone. Since I’m reporting to you, I thought we could at least be friendly towards each other, guess not. I finished, look it over, I’m leaving.” Y/N said as she packed up her stuff to leave.

Walter felt like an asshole. He could at least replied or act interested in what she was saying.

The next morning, Y/N entered the station and when she walked to her cubicle, she saw a little box of chocolate chip cookies with a sticky note that said “Sorry -Don Refri” and that made Y/N smile.

Although Y/N really wanted a relationship with Walter, being friends with him seems like a step closer to the right direction.

The End

Taglist: @shellyshellshell

Hope y’all liked it! I did my research about the Saint Paul police department to make it accurate, and hopefully I gave Y/N a good background since I put in the first installment that she doesn’t do the cold, I made her be from a warmer state. Let me know if you want to be tagged!

#hispanic reader #latina #henry cavill x reader #walter marshall x you #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall x reader #night hunter #latina reader #henry cavill #henry cavil x y/n #walter marshall

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skyfallslayer · 6 months

Text

The Darkness In Me || Story 3: Kingpin & Daredevil

-Kingpin!Matt Murdock x Vigilante!Reader-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🖤 Series Summary: You were shocked to find out your childhood friend turned out to be the Kingpin of the underworld, but you had to put those thoughts aside to bring him down. You were Hell’s Kitchen vigilante, its protector. There's no valid reason not to stop him. However, when your hidden feelings for him start to surface once more, how will you be able to even think about bringing him down?

🖤 Story Summary: Your night trying to save a kid takes a dangerous turn. Now fighting to stay alive after a possible life threatening injury, you soon find yourself face-to-face with the man that runs this city’s underworld: The Kingpin. Aka… your childhood friend.

🖤 Date: 12/06/23

🖤 Rating: Mature

🖤 Word Count: 12, 842 (Damn o-0)

🖤 Warning: Blood; Gore; Talks of Child Abuse; Child Death(s); Child Manipulation; Mental Break; Murdering and Allusion to Murder; Non Consensual Touching(?) Looks like it but its not); Seductive Talk; Implied Seductive Manipulation; Slight Karedevil; Implied Frank/Karen: Past Killing of a Love One; Talks of Betrayal; Death of a Love One; Dark!Matt; Yeah, Matt gets a fucking warning in this one (I mean, he ain't the Kingpin for nothing); Russian & Japanese Via Google Translate (not super accurate, I apologize). READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

-Let me know if I missed anything-

🖤 A/N: Oh boy, this was tough but fun to write! Hopefully nothing is too overwhelming for y'all. Alrighty then… we're finally getting to Matt's POV of things, which I honestly think I enjoyed writing more than reader's (*le gasp*). But yeah, here's a bit of the flirty and charming Matt Murdock we all know and love with a dash of darkness. Enjoy!

There’s no fucking way this was real. Was the first thing you thought. Maybe it was the next one. Or the next one, or– Oh, geez. You really didn’t know what to think.

Here you are thinking the whole time that he’s the same as you; That despite your rough childhoods, you both managed to put the nightmares aside and build the life you guys wanted. You both had your hopes and dreams, you both got the jobs you desired, you both made a friend that had your back. But now…

You don’t know when or where or how this even happened. You don’t know why he’s on this route. You don’t know why you just watched him kill a man for screwing up his ‘responsibility’. You don’t even know what to think of this situation, what to think of…

Him.

Matthew Murdock, Your childhood friend; The person you were starting to feel more for. The person that was none other than–

The King of Darkness himself.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| Four Days Ago ||

The doors slammed simultaneously, the both of you sighing as you laid back in the chair as your partner, Frank, rests his forehead against the steering wheel before lightly tapping it a few times. Your mornings had started off with a call of distress from an elderly man claiming that he had been robbed. Turns out, the poor man just had dementia. So after a talk with his son who stepped out to run an errand, they ended up back her with slight annoyance.

Frank sighs again, finally bringing his head up. “I know he has health problems, but still… you think your stuff’s gone and you call 911?”

“Yeah…” You rub your eyes, dark circles dusting them. “This is going to be a long day.”

“Of course it will be.” He starts the car, sitting up straighter. “Breakfast?”

“Please.” Like you could turn that down after not eating anything for a few hours straight.

He pulls away from the curb, driving in the direction of a local diner that he’s mentioned a few times. “So, Y/N… how are you adjusting to the move?” He said at his attempt at small talk (he didn’t speak much if he didn’t need to, you noticed, so I guess you could say this was a good sign).

“Me? I’m actually doing pretty good. I know how Hell’s Kitchen ticks so–” You shrugged. “Except for when some of the places I’ve been to have disappeared, I didn’t really need to adjust to anything.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve been to Hell’s Kitchen before?”

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Oh, shit. I guess I didn’t tell you. I was born here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I lived here till I was eight.”

“Damn. So it’s been awhile.”

“Yep.”

“What made you move away in the first place?” Frank asked, making you pale. But he didn’t seem to notice since his eyes were on the road. “Y/N?”

“Uh, well…” You frown thinking about that day. You sigh, trying not to play with your hands like you were a kid. “My parents passed. Car accident, uh– Truck ran a red light and hit up straight on.”

“Oh, my god.” He begins, and you hold your hand up.

“Before you apologize for asking, don’t. You didn’t know.”

“Yeah, but still.” He frowns worriedly. “You were… eight? That’s rough.”

“It was, but I had to accept it pretty quickly when I moved to California with my Aunt and Uncle.” You explain, feeling your heart clench at one of the names.

“Quickly?”

“My Aunt wasn’t the nicest woman.”

Frank scoffed, but not at you, but at everything else. “I got to hand it to you, Y/N, you turned out pretty well. To me, your story sounds like the makings of a villain’s origin.”

You chuckled. “So I’m not the only one to have that thought.” You reply, half joking as the car pulled into an open spot.

“I mean it though.” Frank says, turning the engine off. “You’re strong. Stronger than you think. I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost my family like that.” He opens his door. “Alright. Enough depressing shit. Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

You snort. “What? Did you not eat before your shift last night?”

“You think I know how to cook?” He smirks. “I leave the cooking to someone else.”

“I could see that.” You teased, following him inside.

“Well it’ll be dinner when our shifts are over. We should get burgers.”

“I wish I could. Unfortunately I got dinner plans with friends.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Oh, Y/N!” Foggy shouts as soon as he spots you, standing up and waving you over. “So glad you could make it.”

“Well thanks for the invite.” You said, with a smile, hoping the makeup you put on hid how tired you were (Seriously, why did you talk yourself into being a vigilante and a cop at the same time?).

“Y/N, this is Marci.” He said, gesturing to his lovely wife, who shakes your hand.

“Hello, Marci. It’s finally nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Marci said as you guys took a seat. “I swear, he talks about you more than Matthew does.”

“Hey, she gives me all the juicy details my dear friend leaves out. That’s all.” Foggy defends, making her roll her eyes playfully.

You chuckle. “So, speaking of the devil. Where is he?”

He frowns, almost feeling like it was somehow his fault. “Unfortunately, poor Matty can’t make it tonight.”

“No?” You copy his expression. “How come?”

“Says he’s got something important to do.” He sighs dramatically. “I swear he’s got some weird night time hobby. He’s always disappearing.”

“Sounds like something he would do.” You smirk as the joke rolls off your tongue. “You think he’s a secret mob boss or something?”

“Honestly, I was thinking more like Batman, but wouldn’t be surprised with that either.” Foggy said with a shrug, before picking up his menu. “Now, let’s eat. I’m starving.”

“Never heard that one before.” Marci said, hiding her laugh.

“Hey.”

This was nice. You finally made some acquaintances that you could now call your friends. Although this dinner would be a bit bittersweet without Matt, you couldn’t complain, you were just glad you were here, living the moment.

However…

Deep down…

You still wonder what he’s doing.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Punch. Punch.

“Is something going on with you? You know you can always talk to me.” Foggy said, clasping his friendly hand onto his shoulder with a warm smile.

Punch. Punch.

“I thought you were supposed to help me.” Wilson Fisk said as he stared in disbelief from across the table; his hands were aching to strangle his lawyer as they stayed handcuffed to the metal flat top.

“But I am helping you.” Matt replies, his calm complexion suddenly morphed into something wicked that even made the ex-mob boss shiver in his seat. “The Defense is just doing a better job than me.”

Punch. Crack. Punch.

“You’ve done a wonderful job, Matthew.” The older woman, who happened to be the leader of assaination group that took him in, Alexandra Reid, smile so proudly at him as she grasps his shoulders. “You… are the most perfect soldier I’ve seen in a long time.” She chuckles. “Go spread chaos, my love.”

Punch. Crack. Pain. Whine. Punch.

“You fight well, kid.” His old and blind mentor said, making his heart skip with pride until… “But not well enough. You disappointment.”

Punch. Pain. Pain. Whine. Pain. Punch.

“Is Mama really gone?” Matt croaked as held his father’s hand, laying in bed as his head started to go numb from the medicine. But he didn’t need sight to know what expression his dad was making.

“Yeah, Matty. She is.”

Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Crack. Punch. Punch.

“You really are leaving?” He asked, watching his best friend’s face morph into hurt and sadness.

“Yeah. I am.” You could feel yourself starting to cry. “But I don’t want to.”

He grabs your hand, holding it tight. “Then don’t. I don’t want to lose you. Don’t go.”

“Matty, I don’t have a choice. I have to go.”

Matt lets out a low growl as keeps pounding his fists over and over into his ‘sparring’ partner. In the boxing ring he had the man backed into one of the corners, flat on his bottom as blood sprayed everywhere; small bone fragments starting to stick out of his bruised flesh too, But he didn’t care. This was just someone he could easily replace, so he picked up the speed, turning the dial full. Striking over, and over, and over, and over again. And again. And again. And again. And–

“If you don’t stop you’ll cripple him. Or worse.” The blond Karen Page, his advisor, said as she entered the room, making him pause for a second.

“Should I care?” Matt snipped, voice sounding like acid that could melt anything it touches.

Karen’s jaw clenched, but she kept her composure. “You should care, seeing that our number of men is declining. Fast.”

Matt groans and punches the man again, surely KO-ing him this time. “I turn my head away for one second, and my men just disappear in a blink of an fucking eye. They’re all ending up on police departments’ doors so fast, It’s not even safe enough to let them go without some suspicion. Fuck!” He kicks him in the shin, getting a crack. “It’s all because of that fucking asshole in a mask! Do you have any idea where he came from?”

“No, sir. I asked around. Nobody knows. And the reports I… ‘borrowed’ shows that there’s no reports of a mutant, or superpowered individual other than Ghost-Spider in the last ten years or so.”

Matt pauses, thinking. “You think they come from out of state?”

“It’s a possibility.” Karen quickly notices his silence. “Someone comes to mind, sir?”

“No. I was over stepping.” He sighs, holding out his hand as he’s thrown a towel. “Did the delivery arrive smoothly like I asked?”

“It’s on its way. Should be there soon.”

“Good.” He throws the towel around his neck. “I need a shower, and send someone to bandage him.”

“Shall I tell the driver the penthouse or regular?”

Matt pauses again for another second. “Regular. I need to go to work tomorrow.”

“Very well then. I’ll call him now.” Karen bows his head. “Goodnight, Sir.”

“Likewise.” He says, while exiting the ring and into the locker room, still burning with rage that keeps on growing.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Stretching out in your new pajamas, you casually let yourself float around your apartment, excitement (or I guess pride) ran through your veins as you read the next article about your alter ego ‘Daredevil’. The local news lately has been flooded with nothing but articles about you. The next one made you grin, some twenty year old blogger was geeking out how fast you were in some reports and sightings.

You chuckle, lips curling in a smirk. “Damn right, I’m fast.” You didn’t have enhanced speed for nothing. Besides that, you were also cursed gifted with levitation, superhuman reflexes and stamina, and lastly, psionics; Something that you can manipulate in many different ways. It wasn’t as glorious as when your mother would do it, but you were trying.

I wonder how Uncle Pietro would have felt if he knew I had his speed. You frown, shaking your head when a gruesome memory crosses your mind.

Gosh. Why am I living so much in the past all of sudden? Why is everything flooding in quickly? You’ve been pretty good about not reliving your past over the years, but now… you can’t seem to get away from it.

I wonder why? You perk up when a knock comes from your door. You rotated slowly and gently landed on your bare feet, trekking across the room.

“Coming!” You call out, fixing your top before opening the door. You were met with a familiar sight, just like when you had moved in you saw the white vase at your feet filled with the same color and number of Roses. Looking around with caution again, you saw no one before picking it up, plucking the note off one of the stems. This time it just had a single word which was–

‘Sorry.’

You furrow your brows. “What the fuck?” Did whoever sent them know that you were down to your last rose? Did this person know that getting these was intriguing to you? Did they know that this was secretly creeping you out as well?

You scoffed out loud.

Hell…

Why the fuck were you hanging onto the roses if they were driving you crazy anyway?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Matt does his best the next day to hide the cuts on his hands, and bruises lingering on his body. Although he’s grown used to the smell of blood staining his flesh, he knows everyone else around him is not (And being a blind man certainly didn’t help his cause). He got dressed like usual, skipping the red suit for his normal, freshly pressed, black one. He slips on his shades, grabbing his cane and briefcase by the door before stepping outside; One of his men standing there just like always. Dressed in what looked like a ‘caretaker’ outfit, he puts on the bubbly personality he was instructed to do.

“Morning, Mr. Murdock.”

“Morning, Anthony.”

“Taxi’s here like you requested.”

“Perfect.” Matt starts walking with his men a quarter step behind. Now since they’re out in public, it’s time to start speaking in code. “Still having dinner with the family later?”

“That’s the plan, but you know Brently and his boys are. They’re probably out adventuring around here, waiting to give me a scare.” His response made Matt mentally smile.

His bodyguards were in their posts like they should be. “Well, we wouldn’t want that for you.” He plays along, feeling for the door handle before pushing it open to the outside world.

“Oh, and don’t forget, you have a doctor’s appointment tonight. A follow up.”

A meeting. He almost forgot about the meeting he set up weeks prior. “Ah, almost slipped my mind.” Matt admits, opening the taxi door to get in but—

The smell is what threw him off. This scent was completely different than what he was used to.

“Where ya heading to, sir?” The driver spoke, which was another unfamiliar thing.

He frowns, hiding his worriedness. “Mr. Richards?”

“Mr. Richards’ sick. I’m taking his place today.”

And that makes Matt grow quiet, letting his other senses kick in. Other than the scent, he could hear the steady heartbeat slowly start to spike, the knuckles tightening their hold on the steering wheel, and the smell of ink lingering on the man’s neck. Now he’s realized what’s going on.

Sliding back outside, sensing his bodyguard looking at him with concern. “It’s a shame, Mr. Richards is sick.” Matt said, acting like he was scratching his neck but in reality was a signal. His bodyguard trails his eyes subtly inside, confirming what Matt thought the tattoo was.

A logo for a rebel gang in the area. A real pain in his side, always gutting for him. I guess he should have seen this coming sooner.

“It is. I hope he feels better.” His bodyguard said, still with a smile. “Will you be taking a stroll instead?”

“I will.” Matt pushes away from the vehicle, heading in the direction he needed to go. “Just make sure you take out the trash for me.”

“Of course. I’ll see you later Mr. Murdock.”

Matt listened as his bodyguard shut the back door before getting in the passenger, and took out his side arm, politely telling him to drive. He wishes he could go back and laugh in his ‘kidnapper’s’ face. He’s been in this business long enough to know who he trusts and who he can gut. Even though it can be tiring…

The monster inside him sometimes enjoys the thrill of it all.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

He sighs when the knob doesn’t turn, and starts fishing around for his keys; His pocket was like a void sometimes. He brushes off your scent and footsteps as being part of his tired mind, so it still surprised him when you suddenly appeared next to him.

“Wow, look who’s late.” You say, with a cheeky look.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asked, pausing his actions (guess he should stop brushing the thought of you off).

“Thought I stopped by on my patrol of the neighbourhood. I brought bagels.” You hold the piping hot food up. “And if you’re wondering why the door’s still locked, Foggy had… lots to drink last night.”

He raises an eyebrow. “How hungover is he?”

“Well, not sure on that, but he did call me three times in the middle of the night to talk about the Yankees and how Darth Vader would be great at the sport.”

He chuckles. “Oh. So he’s that drunk.” He finally unlocks and opens the door. “I’ll make coffee.”

You smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

He started the machine and you walked around again, being nosy as usual. The office still had its characteristics about it, enough to know what side was Matt’s and what side was Foggy.

God, I’ve spent too much time around them. You spotted a stack of papers nearby, printed on it is what looks like an ad and you let your curiosity get the best of you on this one.

“You going to start standing on street corners and pass these out?” You asked, before realizing you didn’t phrase it right. “Sorry. The fliers, I mean?”

He smiles. “I thought that’s what you meant. No, Foggy thought it’d be a good idea to get the word out more.”

“Is business not good or something?” You asked, worriedly. For being in a building like this you thought they had to be doing good.

“Don’t worry, we are. But we want to branch out more. Marci’s job allows her to travel around New York City, so we’re going to have her put some up whenever she gets the chance.”

“Well that’s good.” You look back at it, admiring the work until something catches your eye. You noticed that each of the men had signed their names on the bottom right above the printed version of it, a nice warm idea to show how ‘cozy’ this place was. But that’s not what was stopping you; There was something… oddly familiar about Matt’s penmanship.

Where have I–

“Coffee’s ready.” Matt announces, coming out from the kitchenette with two cups.

You smile, subconsciously folding the paper and tucking it away. “Thanks.” You take a sip, the cheap coffee actually tasting pretty good this time around. Then, you noticed something else about him, something more troubling as you jump into action. “You’re bleeding.”

That catches him off guard. “What?”

“You’re bleeding.” You set your cup down before he could speak and roll up his sleeve. You noticed the deep gash on his forearm, not too big, just deep. You furrow your brows concernedly. “How’d you get this cut?”

Matt keeps his cool, the lie he tells rolls off his tongue with ease. “Curse of a blind man. Can’t see where I’m going.”

“Let me fix you up. Where’s the first aid kit?”

“Y/N, you don’t have to.”

“I want to. Where is it?”

“Y/N–”

“Don’t be a brat, Matty.” You slap him in the shoulder, holding back a laugh. “Where is it?”

Now he seems like he was trying to do the same thing. “Really? You’re bringing that name back?” He asked as you hum and nod. “Well… peaches, it’s under the sink.”

“Pfft.” You slap him again as you pass and mumble, “Can’t believe that name is still haunting me.” You grab the kit and examine his arm again, taking a better look. “Looks deep. I could stitch it up?”

“Nah, don’t bother. It’ll heal.” Matt says, trying to calm the nerves he could hear in your voice.

“But it’s deep. I really should.”

“Y/N, it’ll heal. Trust me. Just bandage it.”

You comply against your better judgment, and start cleaning it up first. “You got some superpower I don’t know about?” You asked, ironically.

“Hmm, maybe, I don’t know.” He grins. “Wouldn’t little peaches like to know that.”

“Oh, my god. Stop.” You blush a bit. “You’re never going to let that go.”

“What? Like I said the last time, I think it’s adorable.”

“No, it’s not.” You shake your head, all embarrassed as you start applying the bandages. “What would you think if I started calling you ‘Bratty-Matty’ again?”

He chuckles, making your heart flutter. “You already did a few times.”

“In public.”

“Oh, well—”

“See? You’ll hate it.”

“No, not necessarily.”

You pause. “Huh?”

“Well, you know, in today’s environment it’s kind of–” His free hand tugs on your badge around your neck, getting closer. “Kinky.”

“Kinky?” You said, with a flush face and slightly intrigued (completely unaware that he could hear your heart racing with excitement). “I didn’t think little… Catholic Matthew Murdock would be into those things.”

His pulse skipped a beat, feeling your hand gently brush the injured one. “Well, we were just children so… we wouldn’t talk about adult stuff now, would we?”

“Oh, certainly not.” You feel his chest press against yours as he closes the gap. “You… like to talk about that stuff?”

“Only with the people I really admire.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” His hand creeps up to the back of your neck, gently bracing you.

You couldn’t help but moan a little from it, drawing a seductive smile from him. “Matty…”

“I kind of want to share that with you.” He whispers, trying to lock his lips to yours and–

Your walkie suddenly crackles, an order coming through.

You blush. “Sorry.” You reply, trying to unclip from your belt as he steps away to give you space.

“It’s okay.” He says, listening to you ask the operator to repeat and you to take it.

You sigh. “Geez, I’m sorry, Matt. I’ve got to go.”

“No, no. It’s okay. You’re still on duty.”

“Okay. Thanks.” You start to leave, until you feel him get close to you again (and looking flustered once more).

Matt rubs the back of his neck like a nervous tick. “Hey, uh… would you like to… catch up some more? Just the two of us? Like… over dinner?”

Now it was your turn to be caught off guard. “Dinner?” You asked, making sure you heard that correctly. “Like uh… like a date?”

“I was thinking more of a play-date, maybe?” He replies with a half shrug.

“A play-date, huh?” You raise your eyebrow, grinning. “And where would this play-date partake?”

“Oh, I was thinking maybe that Sicilian place in that hotel off 5th?”

“That’s quite the restaurant. You sure?”

“My treat.”

“Alrighty then, hot shot. I’ll see you seven. I’ll wear something nice.”

“You could wear pajamas and I wouldn’t care.” He listens to you laugh a wave goodbye, standing in the doorframe of his office until he hears you no more. His expression fades away into something more serious now. “Brently.”

The office across the way, which was ‘up for lease’, opened up to one of his bodyguards who was awaiting a task. “You called, Boss?”

“Call Karen and tell her to move the meeting I have tonight to tomorrow.”

Brently’s face stays the same, but his tone shifts to concern. “Sir, would that be wise? I mean, they’ve been waiting weeks to have a word from you. You sure they won’t lash out?”

“They should know enough to not even try that. If not, handle it. Understood?”

“Understood.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Did Castle disappear again?” You asked an officer as you entered the office, noticing that he was not lounging around where his desk was.

“Probably. I haven’t seen him all morning.”

“Figures.”

Seriously, where does he run off too? You should probably ask him, I mean he trusts you enough to tell you, right? You head into the women’s locker room, heading to the row in the back. You quickly examine to see if your lock has been tampered with before putting your bag inside. It’s kind of sad you had to watch you back here, a place you should feel the safest but you don’t. You lock it back up as you hear the door being opened, sounding like two officers coming inside, chatting.

“-surprised she’s not dead yet.”

“I know, right? I’m still amazed.”

You roll your eyes at the gossip and how they sounded like they were teenagers in high school. “Oh, boy…” You whisper, and start to leave, but–

“I wonder what Lieutenant Y/N did to the Boss for him to spare her so far.”

You froze, breath caught in your throat.

Wait, what?

“I mean, how long has she been here with us? A month? Two?”

“That sounds about right.”

“I mean, she’s survived a lot longer than we expected. Remember Captain Trevor? He refused to follow the program and guess what? A day and a half later he was dead. Bullet embedded in his skull and they ruled it a suicide, but we all know what it is.”

“Yeah.” A sigh, and the next words were like a knife to your heart. “I feel bad for Castle. A hardened soldier like him still felt guilty about doing it. You could see it in his eyes.”

“Yeah. Poor Trevor too. He was young. Castle probably saw his own son in him.”

“Man, this sucks. How has the Lieutenant been living this long?”

“That’s what I’m saying. There’s got to be something to it.”

“I believe it.”

You continue to listen as they talk about something else before grabbing something out of their lockers and leaving. The whole time you had your hand cupped over your mouth, your face went pale. Frank had told you briefly about his ‘program’ kill but…

You didn’t think it would hit so deep. Now all you could think about now was–

Why were you still alive?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You wore a cap sleeve red dress for your date, accompanied with black heels and a purse. You kept your makeup kind of light, and decided to style your hair long today with an exception of a clip for looks. Just as you finished putting some perfume on, you were surprised when you found Matt already at your door.

“Matty?” You said, taken back.

“The one and only.” Was his response, hold out his arm for you to take. “Ready to go?”

You knock yourself out of your trance (that of shock and how good he looked tonight) and lock the door. “Yeah, of course.” You take his arm and you both guide each other around down the apartment stairs.

“You smell good, by the way.”

You blush. “Thanks.” Then you mentally slap yourself. “I just realize you can’t see what I’m wearing.”

“I can feel.” He fingers brush the fabric. “Silk?”

“I got it years ago when my precinct was doing this charity-gala event, and haven’t worn it since. It’s red by the way.”

“Ah. I always liked that color on you. Cherry?”

“Apple.” You answered as you get to the last step when the thought from earlier comes back. “Hey, how did you know where I lived?”

“You told me one time.” Matt replies, masking his panic pretty well (God, how did he forget that?).

“I did?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” Maybe it was all those third shifts you’ve been doing lately. “You must have a better memory than I do, ‘cause I don’t.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The restaurant was… way more fancy than you thought it was going to be. I know Matt said he’d treat you but Jesus H. Christ this place was way above your pay grade. The materials they used and decorations you could see knew they were attached to triple digits, and when a menu doesn’t bother showing you the price for something, you knew you were out of your league.

Now I feel kind of guilty mooching off of him. You thought, knowing he was a lawyer but still. Could he really afford this?

“Here’s some glasses for the wine.” Your server said, gently placing them on the table. You quickly now noticed the the brace on his forearm and out curiosity, you asked,

“Your hand okay?”

“Oh, this? Yeah I’m fine. Lucky actually. I was getting mugged the other day.” He says, and you suddenly realize why he looked so familiar.

“That’s awful. Sorry to hear that.” Matt replies, as the waiter shrugs.

“Like I said, I was lucky. Thank god that vigilante was nearby. Saved my ass. Just wished I could have thanked him.” You couldn’t help but smile a little while Matt mumbled something incoherent as he continued tracing his fingers over the braille menu.

What’s up with him? You wondered, before tuning back into what your waiter was saying.

“-So, have we decided what we’re eating tonight?” He asked, and the two of you placed your orders before handing the menus back. “I’ll have that out for you shortly.”

“Still not sold on Daredevil?” You asked, pouring a glass of wine for the both of you.

He thanks you before answering, “Like I said, I just want the right guy to pay.”

“And you think he’s not doing a good job?”

“Well the media thinks he is. I’m not so sure myself sometimes. But I’ll admit, I admire how persistent he is.”

You pause before tilting your head, confused. “Persistent? What do you mean by that?” You took note how he looked like a deer in a headlight just as your waiter came out with the appetizers. By then the subject was changed, something less ‘intense’ and more lighthearted. And by the time your main courses came the two of you were laughing and enjoying yourself, feeling like you two were kids again.

“Oh, man. I can’t believe you guys actually did that.” You said, mixing around your carbonara with your fork. “How did you and Foggy not get expelled?”

“Good…” He chuckles. “Good question. We really should have, to be honest.”

You hum, staring at him for a minute before feeling a twinge of guilt. You wanted to ask him something that’s been bugging you for a while, and you were not sure if it was the appropriate time or not. You set your utensil down, nervously. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“It’s… kind of a debbie-downer.”

“You know I’ll answer it, Y/N.” He says, reassuring. “Shoot.”

Backing out crosses your mind, but you managed to encourage yourself to finally ask, “Why did you stop writing letters to me?” And then you saw his expression again, one that you didn’t know how to place. Why was he so surprised you were asking him certain things tonight?

You watch him set his own fork down, eternally debating with himself as he takes a deep breath.

“Listen… Y/N, I–”

The sound of something shattering caught both of your attentions, followed by hush voices before it got really loud.

“I know he’s in here! I recognized his cars outside! His people!” A man shouted, his thick accent lingering. A worker shouted at him to get back as he entered the dining hall, catching everyone’s eye now.

“What’s going on?” You said, missing the way the brunette clenches his fists (‘Cause unlike you, he knew exactly who this was).

“I know you’re in here! Тащи сюда свою задницу, ублюдок!” (*Get your ass over here, Bastard!)

“What the hell is babbling about?” You asked, recognizing it was Russian, but didn’t understand it. You watched him get pulled away by a few people, still shouting and kicking like a child throwing a fit. “What do you think that was all about?”

Matt’s hands twitched and ached in his lap, unbeknownst to you. “Um… I don’t–” But then his phone rings, this time you could see the bit of annoyance on his features as he pulls it out.

[‘Brently. Brently. Brently.’]

The automatic voice chimed over and over until he picked it up.

“Sorry. Let me take this.” He says, before you have any say. “Hello?” You watch him talk, the annoyance on his face seemed to progress that was starting to rub off on you. “Alright, then.” He hangs up with a sigh.

“Who’s Brently?” You asked, slightly irritated (and you would be more if he knew he was going to lie next).

“Uh, client. Um, he’s in some legal trouble, I, uh… gotta go bail him out.” Matt replies, scooting his chair back.

You blink in surprise. “What?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I gotta take responsibility for this.”

“To bail your client out?” He shakes his head, causing you more confusion. “Doesn’t he have a family? Why did you call you to bail him out?”

“Well, I’m… his lawyer, and he calls me so it falls on me.”

Now that just sounded like a load of bull to you. You frown. “So? Make him wait, or call Foggy then. We’re–”

“Foggy’s out with Marci. Don’t want to bother him.” Matt says, cutting you off.

“And we’re not… out? Together? Like him and his wife?”

“Y/N, I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, but this is important.”

Now that got your blood boiling. “And this is not?” You asked, standing up yourself and walking away with him calling out your name like a broken record.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Matt was really surprised that you let him even open the taxi door for you, but he knew you weren’t looking his way with your arms cross and head down with rage (he honestly couldn’t fucking blame you for acting like this). He then walked around and told the driver your address, and told him to drive safe which he complied.

“You Mr. Richards son?” He asked in a low tone that you couldn’t hear.

“Yes, I am.”

“Is he doing better?”

“A little banged up, but he’s alright. Should be back in a few days, Sir.”

“Good.” Then he made a face that makes anyone’s skin crawl. “You make sure nothing happens to her, or I’ll gut inside out and mail it to your dad as a ‘get well’ gift. Understood?”

The driver pales and nods before driving away. Matt then gets in a black tinted SUV, fuming in his seat as his bodyguard rolls the privacy screen down to talk.

“Page has Mr. Anatoly, Boss.”

“Where are they heading?” He asked, hands aching again as he bounces his leg to confine his anger inside.

“Usual spot. Shall I drive you over there?”

“Yes.” A grin. “Please.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Here’s a twenty.” You said, as the taxi pulled up to your apartment. “Just keep the change.”

“Uh, no need, uh… Your date paid for it.” The driver explained, waving it off.

You roll your eyes. “Of course he did.” You mumbled, getting out of the vehicle quickly as he bid you goodnight. Well…

That had to be one of the worst dates you’ve ever been on (and you’ve been on a lot). You threw your purse on the kitchen counter, kicking off your heels somewhere in the dark hall before sliding down to a sitting position against the wall. You get that he had an important client, but did he really have to take priority over him rather than spending a nice evening with you? Or better question… Why did he look like you caught off guard so many times tonight?

What are you hiding, Matt? And that was a question that was burning like candle light.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Karen was sitting in the back of another SUV listening to how Anatoly, the Russian mob member, went on and on about something (to be frank, she was only half listening).

“You were right to reach out to us, although, since we’re being truthful, a call would have been more appropriate.” Karen explains, feeling slightly sorry about what was going to happen to this man.

“Look, I… I wanted to speak with him in person. Try to put the past behind us.” The Russian said, getting a hum which was right on cue for the vehicle to stop. “Why are we stopping?”

“They say the past is etched in stone, but it isn’t. It’s… smoke trapped in a closed room, swirling, changing. Buffeted by the passing of years and wishful thinking.” Karen starts poetically saying. “But even though our perception of it changes, one thing remains constant. The past can… never be completely erased. It lingers. Like the scent of burning wood. And it’s my job as his advisor to make sure everything just… lingers.”

Anatoly gives her a strange look, which Karen ignored to answer a call.

“Sir?” She said, listening closely. “Yes, passenger side.”

“Was that him?” The Russian asked, hopeful.

“Yes. He’d like to have a word with you.”

Anatoly nods and mumbles something in his native tongue seconds before the door flies wide open. To his shock, an angry Matt Murdock reaches inside and yanks him out, throwing him viciously on the ground.

“You embarrassed me.” Matt snarls, even with his shades on you knew there was bloodlust in those blind pupils. “You fucking embarassed me infront of her!” And throws a punch.

They both exchange some hits, equally spilling some blood, however, at one point, Anatoly pulls out a knife, swinging it defensively. What thought could do some damage, he ends up seeing the Kingpin’s suit was barely touched by the blade.

Surprising him again, Matt had him pinned against the vehicle, breaking his wrist the weapon was in. “Мне бы хотелось, чтобы ты просто позвонил. Я бы дал тебе пропуск. Но нет…” He hisses, cradling the sides of the Russian’s head (*I wish you had just fucking called. I would have given you a pass. But no…). “Ты только что выкопал себе чертову могилу.” (*You just had dug your own fucking grave.)

He then starts banging his head on the side of the car a few times before tossing him back at the ground. Anatoly desperately tries to crawl to the car, begging Karen to help in Russian, but Matt’s advisor made no movements that she would at all. Instead, Matt drags Anatoly by his hair, laying him between the floor and the door…

Then slams it hard.

And over.

And over again.

As blood bathed the concrete with its glorious red color, Matt never stopped until his enemy’s head was completely taken off.

Inhaling heavily, body still tense as Karen walks over carefully, offering her Boss her handkerchief.

“Tell Mr. Potter, I’ll need a new suit.” Matt said after a moment, and wiped his face clean.

Karen nods with a hum. “What about this?” She asked, gesturing to the body behind them.

“Keep it. Freeze it. Let his brother worry for a few days, and will pull the cards if we have to.”

“Which cards, if I may ask?”

“Send it to Vladimir to show who really runs this city, or…”

“We blame it on Daredevil.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Alright, listen up. Last night, a father was driving home with his son until they were surrounded by unidentified men.” Your police chief said as you all were gathered around the office. You knew by how tense he was this was going to be some tough news to swallow. “Those men beat the poor dad and kidnapped the kid. Griffin Banks. Eight years old, he has curly brown hair and brown eyes; about 5 feet tall, 86 pounds, and was last seen wearing his little league uniform. Your jobs are to find him quickly and bring him home safe. Understood? – Great. Off you all go!”

And then all of you scattered like ants, hopefully to get some kind of lead, some kind of evidence of where he was but…

“This shit’s going nowhere.” Frank complained, after a few hours of tiredly searching. You couldn’t blame him for complaining about this, because you too were feeling the same way.

If only I had heard about this last night when I was on the street. I could have been looking already. You went out as Daredevil last night to clear your head after that disastrous date and didn’t come across any crime or hear anything to spark your interest. You thought that was a good thing, you thought maybe the criminals finally understood that you weren’t leaving, but now you realize that the reason was entirely different.

Did everyone in the underworld know about this kid? Was this an act of war or treason? You still weren’t a hundred percent sure how everything ran, but you did know that not everyone in the shadows worked or agreed with the Kingpin, so maybe this was a way to get back at him.

But why an innocent kid of all things?

“Let’s try around the park again.” You said, heading back for the car.

“Again? Y/N we just came from there.” Frank said, as you shake your head.

“Maybe we missed something. I want to check.”

“Y/N. Hey, wait. Y/N–” He grabs you by the shoulder to stop you from entering his car. “Wait. Look, I know you want to catch this guy, I get it, but we can’t keep going back to the same place over and over again, it’s not doing us any good.”

“Yeah, but what if we’re missing something?” You asked, forming a look of desperation in your eyes that means so much more. So much more that he actually understands it.

His face softens. “Y/N, I know that look, you’ve been through this before haven’t you?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, breaking eye contact. “I just want him to be alright. I couldn’t save the last one.” You explain, voice quivering at the end.

“Hey, I get it. We all have a similar case every once and while, and it gets to us. I understand how you feel. However, if you keep running in circles, and getting inside your head, you’re not going to be able to do much. You’re going to make the same mistakes.”

“I know, but–”

“Go take a break. Go clear your head, then come back to the precinct.”

“Frank–”

“There are a hundred or so other officers looking for this kid. You can take a rest.”

“Frank–”

“Please.”

And how could you say ‘no’ when Frank reminded you of your old partner Max here? He was making the same thoughtful, worried expression that made you want to break and asked for a hug.

You wanted to say ‘no’, to show them both that you could handle it, to show that you’ve grown but… You can’t.

You haven’t grown one bit since then.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Fancy seeing you here.”

You take your face out of your hands, looking up from your spot in the waiting area. You decided on getting a quick bite before you head back. “Foggy?”

“Thought I get some grub myself.” He said, sitting down next to you, waiting as well. “Rough morning?”

I guess he could tell how messed up you felt. “You could say that.”

“Is it because of that missing kid?”

“Yeah.” You said, as you laid your head against the wall. “Guess word got around quickly.”

“You guys will find him.” He gives you a reassuring look. “I have faith.”

You scoffed. “You have more faith than I do.”

He looks proud of himself while replying, “Hey, It’s what I do best.”

“What about you?” You cast him a glance. “Did you and Matt sort out that client issue?”

Foggy tilts his head, eyebrows scrunched together. “Issue? What issue?”

“The client issue.” You realize he didn’t know what you were talking about and continue trying to specify. “Matt and I went out last night but he cut it short; Told me he had to leave because of work. An issue with a client.”

“Issue with a client? I don’t recall a current issue with anybody.” Foggy says, honestly, as he scratches his head to think. “Are you sure that’s what he told you?”

“I’m dead serious.” You sit up straighter. “You seriously have no idea what I’m talking about?”

“No, I’m sorry, Y/N. I would know if we had an issue, I mean, we’re partners; Fifty-Fifty, you know? But if he comes into the office later I’ll ask him about it.”

You let his words sink as he excused himself to grab his food. You were… baffled. Completely fucking baffled. Did Matt really lie to you last night? And for what? He didn’t want to be there with you anymore? Did he think you were being nosy? Did he not like you in the way you thought he did? Whatever the reason was, it didn’t matter…

You were going to be pissed off anyway.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Take the bag off.” Matt snarls as he enters the freezer. His bodyguard complied, showing their enemy off for him to ‘see’. “If you’re smart you’ll make this quick. Where’s the kid you took?”

The Russian grinned, his teeth stained red with lips full of blisters. “Like hell I’ll tell you. Not until you agree to meet with Vladimir like you promised!”

“Where’s the kid?” He tried again, patience thinning out already.

“Fuck. Off. 3асранец.” (*Asshole)

Matt hums. “So not smart? Not a shocker.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who backed out at the last minute. I don’t know what was so important last night that you just had to miss it.”

“Well, all of us have lives, you know.”

He laughs. “A leech like you? Have a life? I find that hard to believe.” Another chuckle. “We know you so well that Vladimir had us on standby to take a kid.” And another. “We know you have a little soft spot for them.”

But Matt stays calm, eerily calm that could make anyone’s skin crawl. “Just Vladimir? So did his brother not have any say in that?”

“What?”

“You know, Anatoly paid me a visit last night. He actually interrupted my important event. If your bosses had such a… grand plan, how come one of them came looking for me?”

He scoffed under his breath, mumbling, “Цифры. Анатолий всегда был нетерпеливым.” (*Figures. Anatoly was always the impatient one.)

This makes Matt grinned. “Ah, so you guys have no idea? Do you?”

“Know what?”

“Что я тоже нетерпелив.” Matt says while snapping his fingers (*That I am also impatient). The meat hooks were shifted around until it was a headless body that appeared, but that didn’t shake the Russian too much until someone pulled out the body’s severed head from a box of ice.

The man paled. “O Боже…” (*Oh God…)

“Понимаете?” Matt asked, the same expression staying (*You see?). “Мне плевать, какой у тебя статус. Ты меня злишь, я убью тебя.” (*I don’t care what status you are. You make me angry, I’ll kill you)

“You really are a monster.” He says, trying to keep it together.

“Yeah, I know. And with no regrets too. Now…” Matt’s face falls. “Where’s the kid?”

“Like I’d ever tell you after what you just did! 3асранец!” He snaps before spatting in his face. (*Asshole!)

Matt stays quiet, and calmly wipes the red spite from his face. “Otomo.” He calls out to the deepest part of the freezer, a person dressed in an all black ninja outfit. “Kare o korose.” (*Kill him). The assassin nods, unsheathing his blade which was enough to get the Russian to wiggle in his restraints and start begging.

“W-Wait! Wait! Wait! What about– No. No–”

“Dispose the body anyway you can.” Matt orders as he turns to leave the cold, until…

“Ты хочешь остановить Сорвиголову, верно?!” (*You want to stop Daredevil right?!)

As soon as those words were spoken, the Kingpin stopped in his tracks. It was only until he turned back around, the Russian started laughing with hysteria and joy.

“I know you do. We all do.” He pants and swallows. “Этот парень... он поможет любому. И я гарантирую, что он захочет спасти ребенка. Пусть все это ускользнет…” (*This guy... he’ll help anyone. And I guarantee he’ll want to save the child. Let this all slide…) He chuckles with a painful smile. “Я-я упущу это, и вместе мы сможем поймать Сорвиголову. Разве это не было бы красиво?” (*I-I let this slide, and together, we could trap Daredevil. Wouldn’t that be beautiful?)

The man prayed that this would work, and his spirits seemed to be lifted when the King of Darkness smiled.

“No one else saw you take him?” Matt asked one of the guards who shook his head. “Huh. You know…” He shifted the weight on his cane. “I like that idea. It is beautiful. Slightly risky, but beautiful.” Then he flickered his blind gaze back to his assassin. “Kare o korose.” (*Kill him)

Then he spun on his heels again and left, the door shutting behind the screams that his sensitive ears could still hear. He maneuvered around the place, listening to his adivisor’s heels click around behind him at the pace he told her to as he finds a sink to clean his soured face.

“So you’re going forward with his suggestion?” Karen asked, hands behind her back, waiting.

“It’s a little far-fetched, but if Daredevil catches wind of the kid, we actually can kill two birds with one stone.” He said, running the very idea over and over in his head. “Any updates?”

“Your phone’s been blowing up. The personal one.”

“Calls?”

“Texts mostly.”

“Who’s it from?” He asked her, as she pulled it out of her pocket and reread it over.

“Foggy.” She replies, watching him stop drying his face.

“Is it important?”

“Might be.”

“Might be?”

“He wants to know what client issue you had last night, and says you should contact Y/N.” She frowns. “Apparently she’s pissed at you for leaving last night.” He mutters something under his breath that she didn’t hear before she decided to take a step forward. “Forgive me if I’m stepping over a line, and I know she’s a long time friend, but she’s also a cop; A cop that hasn’t been linked with your program yet, and has been begging for you to tell her yourself, which I know you won’t.”

“Your point is, Karen? Matt asked, throwing the towel aside.

“What if this works out like you hope, and you reveal to her that you’re the Kingpin, then what? You expect her to be okay with it? Expect her to accept it without a little blackmail on the line?”

A brief pause. “No.”

“Exactly. She’ll try to take your ass to court, better yet she’ll try to shoot you dead. I just don’t want a repeat of last time.”

And the haunting memory flashed before him. He didn’t think it could still hurt so much. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll figure that out later. But what about you? How’s your task going?”

“Still growing strong like you asked.” Karen said as he cups her jaw with a smile. “He trusts me a lot.”

“Good. Good. I’m glad to hear that.” He says, while slowly tracing her red lips with his thumb. “Even if, and that’s a big if, Castle ever thinks that he’s out of my control, he’s not, not if you’re on him like a thorn in his side. Right?”

“Right.”

He hums, and lightly ghosts her arm with his fingertips drawing a small sound from her. “Bet you’re imagining me as him. Hmm?” He pulls her head down closer, his lips right next to her ear. “Keep seducing Castle for me, okay? I don’t care if you catch any feelings either, as long as you know he’ll still be between my fingertips, then I’ll let that slide. Understood?”

She makes a sound again, eyes half lid. “Understood.”

“Good.” Then he gently bites the side of her lower lip, kitty licking the bruise before pulling away. “Tell the driver to bring the car around while I make a call.”

With a shaky breath she says, “Yes, sir.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The voicemail still buzzed in the back of your head as you came bursting through your window, barely having the mental strength to lock as you started shedding your DD suit as you walked towards your bathroom.

*Beep*

[ ‘Hey, Y/N. Look, I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be, but please just… Can you just call me back and just listen to what I have to say? Please? I just… I know I messed up. I’m sorry. Please call me back when you get the chance.’ ]

*Beep*

You kicked off the last pair of clothing as you crawled into the shower turning the hot water on, letting it run on your hunched over back with your forehead against the tiles.

These few days have sucked. First your date leaves you high and dry, then you find out he lied, and now you can’t even find a missing kid whether your Daredevil or Detective L/N. It…

It really hurts.

This task… hits… close to home.

You hold back the tears you felt, and hold back the urge to sob as you let your fingers trace the scar on the base of your neck, remembering how it got there.

It was stupid mistake.

You should have waited for your partner instead of running off on your own.

You’re an idiot. You’re an idiot. You should have waited. You should have waited. You–

You honestly thought the universe would grant you this. To grant you a chance to catch the man you’ve been hunting for weeks; To catch the man that’s been stealing those kids and doing heinous things with them. You needed to catch him, you begged to catch him but…

No.

No you can’t.

As soon as you spotted him you ran like hell after him, ignoring as your partner Max yelled your name. You had blinders on, you’ll admit, but you don’t want that man to take another kid, to steal yet another kid’s future. No.

Not on your fucking watch. However–

He catches you by surprise, and suddenly your whole world is on its side as you free fall, hitting something sharp and painful on the way down. Now you’re laying on the ground, your spine feeling funny as you feel the pool of blood grow around your head, your ears ringing like they’re dying out.

Damn it. You thought. You really thought you had this one in the bag as you started to fade to black just as your partner’s voice broke out into a scream. A scream that you know was–

“Fuck!” You yelled, and swiped off all the bottles off the shelf and let it rattled to the tub floor (you know you probably just woke up your downstairs neighbour but you couldn’t care less). You sigh heavily, holding the sides of your head.

Tonight was going to be a long night for you.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Frank’s fingers glided over his phone for the millionth time this morning. You haven’t arrived at all this morning which was so not like you (Especially since you were so desperate to solve this case). He waited a few minutes before texting again:

[ Forget what precinct you work at or something? Where are you? ]

He just wants something from you, even if you respond with an emoji that he’ll have to decipher.

Come on, Y/N. At least tell me you’re staying home. One of his fears right now was you doing something drastic. After his conversation with you yesterday he decided to look up what was scaring you, and that was the case you took just a few years out of the academy, the same year you became a detective. A criminal that had been taunting you and your partner for months, and when you finally had him, the night ended with you getting a near death injury… and another kid getting killed.

Poor girl. I just wish you didn’t have to get demoted here. You’re too good for this place. His thoughts were interrupted when his phone finally dinged with a message from you.

[ Detective Stubborn: Ate something bad last night. Stomach’s killing me. ]

He sighs with relief, whether that was true or not, he’s just glad to know you’re away from here.

[ Feel better. ]

He just really, really hopes you stay home and clear your mind.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

But of course… why would you?

After planning all day and looking over very little evidence you had you decided to go out as soon as the sun started to set. You had to rough up a couple of street thugs to get some more solid evidence, but eventually it was enough for you to figure out where they took the boy.

The warehouse district.

You floated through one of the skyline landing without a sound, and the rest of your mission honestly became a bit of a blur. Why? Well… as you rushed around through each warehouse undetected until you actually found the kid, your enemies, when they finally noticed you, didn’t seem very fond of you poking your nose in their business. Now you’re running like hell, a kid in your arms as you tried shielding him from every bullet that came your way. You tried levitating a few times when you found yourself up high and trying to cross a beam or a walkway, but you’ve never actually flown with someone in your arms so you’re out of practice.

Come on, Y/N. Remember bootcamp, Remember your first rescue mission, you know how to carry someone to safety. Which was true, but all those other times weren’t with you being pelted with bullets from an angry mob.

You felt the kid grip your outfit tighter making you say, “It’s okay. It’s okay. Everything will be okay.” You just kept repeating that comfortingly as you made three small crates float and fly to knock the men out of your path. You kicked one of the guys in the head when he tried to get up, sprinting again. If you can just get to the edge of the building, you’ll be home free.

Trekking across a catwalk, you used your abilities to conjure up a quick shield to block before surging the power outwards, knocking the gunmen off his feet and over the railing, plummeting into the overly packed room of wooden crates from overseas (you’re not sure if you really wanted to know what the Russian mafia was importing). You fought a few more guys that dared to intervene, dared you to stop and surrender and be killed.

You could see the finish line, you could feel the boy relaxing your arms as he sees it too; You were finally going to complete the mission that’s been haunting you for so–

You heard something rattle and roll behind you.

You just had enough time to look at what it was before putting a shield up, the tiny thing exploding your whole world.

When you came back around, an excruciating pain ran through your body, a pain that was so unbearable that you didn’t want to move. The explosive you managed to shield took out the catwalk you were on and everything close by. You fell all the way down with debris dusting your face, still holding onto the kid before blacking out. Now… you laid on the floor, your head shaking as you urged yourself to look down, finding what was causing the pain.

A metal bar was sticking out from your abdomen.

You somehow didn’t scream, maybe because you felt like you were going into shock, or maybe you were shouting and haven’t noticed yet.

Oh, god, I’ve– wait… the boy… Trying not to black out when you turn your head to look, and about a foot away was the boy who had bounced off your body during the fall. Your heart would have caught in your throat if he didn’t see his chest moving, but it was.

He’s alive. You sighed with relief, but here comes the tricky part. How are you going to move and save him with this pole in your stomach? You groaned loudly as you tried to move, arm reaching out in the attempt to at least shake him awake, trying to tell him to run if you’re truly stuck.

“Uh, Gr-Griffin… g-get up. W-Wake… up. Please…” You croaked, yet it doesn’t seem like the sleeping boy can hear you… but someone else could.

But as you shifted again, pain shooting out as the metal shifted with you, that’s when you noticed someone coming over in the corner of your eye. One of the Russians had come over, checking if you were still alive which was plain as day now. You watch his eyes go between you and the child for a few seconds before grinning like a maniac.

Your eyes widened when you saw the gun in his hands. “No.” You whimpered with your fingertips glowing red, right as he shot a bullet into the kid’s head. “No!!!” You couldn’t believe what you had just witnessed. Would this have happened if it didn’t–

Then he pointed the weapon at you, out instinct or adrenaline your abilities shifted the gun towards him, firing his own bullet into his own skull.

His body dropped like it was made of bricks, the gun sliding inches away from him, causing you to nearly throw up in your mouth. I mean, you were a cop after all, so of course you’ve had to shoot a person or two but this was…

Messing with your fucking head.

You could hear shouting in the distance, which was enough for you to kick it high gear again and try to move. First things first was trying to get this damn bar out of your stomach.

How the fuck– wait– let’s see– You concertrated the best you could as you redirected all the energy you had into yanking it out (doing it quickly probably was the best idea but you didn’t have much time). The bar rattled next to you, a pool of red oozing out as you rolled to your side feeling the blood rise to your throat. You quickly moved to all four, pulling your mask down to cough up the rest of the red. Sweating and heaving, you felt like you had no energy left to move, but you needed to. You could hear them coming.

As you got up to your feet, your knees nearly buckled but yourself forward where you noticed some stairs going up. Ripping and pushing your hood against your wound as you started to climb, hoping you weren’t leaving too much of a blood trail.

Just as you got to the top you heard the voice grow near, and you managed to slide yourself into a place that no one could see from below. You just needed to stay hidden long enough for them to leave to make your escape (whenever that was). However, you never thought after searching for a few months that you would actually get to see the man they call ‘Kingpin’.

You peaked out watching two very different groups of people arrive. The Russians looked slightly surprised when the Underworld’s Ruler showed up, dressed in the red suit that you’ve heard about on the street. He walked like he owned the place, his black cane with gold trim was like the piece that tied his whole look together. He stopped with his back towards you, with many of his men standing around as, what you tell was, the Russian mob’s leader came face-to-face with Kingpin.

“3асранец. Now you show your face.” The leader, Vladimir snaps (*Asshole).

“Well, seeing how this is my turf now, I have to show my face.” Kingpin said, making you perk up with confusion.

Why does his voice sound–? But your thought trails off as you watch Vladimir scoffing in disbelief.

“Your turf? You think we just… ‘mess up’ and you take over?”

“Well, I certainly don’t need to see that–” Matt points to the mess the explosion made. “You pretty much destroyed most of your cargo.”

Vladimir frowns, shifting his weight. “I’ll admit, I wish my men didn’t blow up half the warehouse. But I will give him a pass because he was trying to stop our rat.”

He raises an eyebrow. “A rat?”

“Yeah, a rat.” Vladimir smiles a little. “I had a feeling Daredevil would come for the kid. Why wouldn’t you if it makes you feel good?”

Matt clenches the top of his cane, keeping his composure from the neck up. “Daredevil was here?”

“Still here, I think.” The Russian points to the bloody puddle on the floor. “There’s a pipe laying next to a large amount of blood. In my experience, getting impaled you don’t get very far.”

His frown deepens, grip tightening. “And the kid? I smell two bodies with no heartbeats.” Then his whole aura changed into something darker, suffocating. “Tell me, are those your men?”

Vladimir paled, and tried to keep the discomfort off his face. He didn’t want to answer, even he knew staying silent wouldn’t be a good idea. “One of them.”

“One of them?”

“Why do you care? It could have been Daredevil! She could have pulled the trigger!”

Matt didn’t say anything as he cast his blind gaze at the corpses before saying, “No. His scent is the only one on the gun and its bullets. So the kid’s death is in your hands.” But then he pauses, realizing something. “Wait. She?”

“Yes. My men said they saw Daredevil upclose, says the stature’s too small and not burly enough to be a man.” Vladimir replies, making Matt hum in response. “I guess something good did come out of this after all. We finally have more evidence of what we’re up against.”

And those words were his signature for his own death.

The room got really cold, and energy felt suffocating. Everyone present began praying that they’ll be spared.

Matt grits his teeth, shaded eyes growing hungrier. “First you embarrassed me, now you insult me? I’m not even sure what to say anymore.” He says, snapping his fingers as his bodyguards shoved Vladimir to his knees, the end of a barrel being pressed in his face. The other Russians tried to make an advance, but they were outnumbered, making them slowly raise their hands over their heads.

“Давай, мужик.” Vladimir said, as Matt made a tsking news (*Come on, Man).

“Don’t ‘come on, man’ me. You brought this upon yourself. I mean–” Matt chuckled dryly, lowly, scary. “All you and your brother had to do was just wait the next day for our meeting. But no, you had to go out and throw a tantrum, you had to go out and kidnap a kid that has no meaning to any of us.”

Vladimir scoffs. “No meaning? It always has some meaning to you. Don’t act like you haven’t kidnapped someone’s kid before.”

“And I’m not. I know what I’ve done. But unlike you, when I kidnap someone there’s meaning to it, a purpose. Like when I… ‘picked up’ our DA’s lovely daughter after soccer practice, and said we were good friends. And like any child, she believed it.” Matt smiled just a little before it faded in an instant. “However… she never ended up like that.” He gestures to the body on the floor. “You get what I mean?”

The Russian growls. “3асранец.” (*Asshole)

“You can keep calling me an asshole all you want, but you know I’m right.” Matt sighs. “I just wish your brother was like you.”

Vladimir’s breath caught in his throat. “What did you do?”

“Nothing that your brother didn’t deserve. He did interrupt a very important date I really care about. I’m honestly surprised he found the restaurant I was in.”

Brother? Interrupted? Restaurant? You thought, wondering why this sounds so familiar.

“What. Did. You. Do?!” Vladimir shouted, baring his teeth as the King of Darkness lips curled into a mischievous grin.

“Like I said, nothing he didn’t deserve.” Matt snaps his fingers again, this time summoning someone over who was holding up a duffle bag. He reaches inside and pulls the brother’s head out by his hair (You had to hold back from gasping loudly at the sight).

Vladimir nearly broke down on the spot. “Anatoly…”

“I really wished he had just called, I wouldn’t have resorted to such manners.” Another sigh. “I even had to lie to my date that I had to go bail him out.”

And that’s when your whole world collapsed.

No. You thought, shaking your head as everything started to click in place.

No. No. This has to be fake. I have to be sleeping. This can’t– But you can’t deny what was plain as day. You didn’t have to see his face to know it was him. I mean, he had a cane you thought was just for fashion, he had shades on that you thought was just part of his look, but you can’t deny that his voice is the same, you can’t deny that the missing pieces had formed a whole.

But then his name rolled off your lips as you stared with disbelief.

“Matt…” You whispered, and as soon as you did, his head snapped your way.

Tensing up and pushing yourself further into the shadows, you slapped your hand over your mouth as your heart pounded in your ears.

There’s no way he heard me… right? However, that couldn’t be a coincidence. There’s no way you just mutter his name and then look your way. It’s too much of a coincidence for it not to be true. But does that mean–

Can Matt… hear anything? Does he have abilities like me? You didn’t know what to think as he went back to his conversation with the Russian mob leader.

His perplexed expression changed back to the grin as he continued to taunt the man before him. “Now do you understand why people don’t cross me?”

“You’re a monster.” Vladimir replies, voice filled with venom. “You’re a fucking monster.”

“I know.”

“You won’t get away with this. When people hear about what you’ve done, there’s no way the others are going to let this go.” The Russian clenched his fists. “My people, even if I’m gone, they’re not going to put up with this. Same with the Doctors, S.I.L.K., the Chinese, the Japanese–”

“The Japanese?” Matt said with a laugh. “Oh, they work for me.” And he almost laughed again when he saw his prey’s face pale again in shock. “Yeah. You see, they raised me. The Hand taught me everything I know, and helped me rise to this position.”

What does he mean he was raised by the Japanese? You managed to think after slowly coming over your shock. You knew his mother died in the accident that blinded him, and he mentioned his dad pasted as well, and–

Wait…

Matt never told me when his father died. Does that mean he was young enough to be taken in by someone? Someone like… You couldn’t even finish the sentence. You’ve heard bits and pieces about The Hand on the street. You knew they were hardcore, highly skilled and basically an assassination group; People you didn’t want to mess with.

So does that make Matt… an assassin?

“You really have power in everything.” Vladimir said, head hanging low.

“Pretty much.” Matt said, proudly.

“Then I guess… I’ve got nothing else to do than follow you.”

“Follow me?” The blind man scoffed. “Oh, Vladimir, you lost your chance at that. You’ve already proven to me that you have no loyalty, that you only think about yourself.”

“Mr. Murdock–”

Matt cut him off by holding his hand up, and staying quiet for just a moment. “I really wanted to like you Vladimir, that hard head of yours I could have used for so many things but…” He sighs and stays silent again.

And then you watch him plunge his sword into the side of Vladimir’s head.

Your pupils shrunk and you felt all the air get sucked out of you. You–

Matt slowly pulls his weapon out, letting his bodyguards drop the body to the floor. He just stares again, almost like he was basking in what he just did.

Oh, my god… he just… Then you watched him sheath the blade back into his cane and says,

“Kill the rest.”

And that’s when you knew you had to move. Using all the strength you had left to bolt away as Matt’s men started firing at whoever was left of the Russian mob.

You’re not sure how you’re even going to get home, but fuck…

There’s no way in hell you’re going to stick around here.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You practically crawled to the bathroom when you got back to the apartment, black spots started dancing as you ripped open the first aid kit. You shake off your top, turning the shower on for a few seconds to remove the excess blood.

“Matty… would you still be friends with me if I was a freak?” You asked him as the two of you sat on the fire escape of his apartment. The question has been gnawing at you for quite some time, and you weren’t sure how to express it so.

“A freak?” Matt said, confused. “Why would you ask me that?”

The pole didn’t go all the way through, which was good, but damn… that was going to leave a nasty scar when it did heal. You had to bite on a rolled up magazine as you started sewing up the wound, the pain keeping you awake.

“Well…” You nervously shifted your weight, looking in his direction. “What if I told you… that my parents are special?”

“Special? In what way?

You placed the gauze over the wound, then bandaging it up. You then cursed as you pushed yourself to a stand, running your blood soaked hands under the water, watching it swirl down the drain.

“Like… what if they had abilities? Like superheroes?”

“Like superheroes?” Matt perked up a little. “Do they?”

“It’s just a question.” You shrug and look away. “Would you be okay if I was a freak too?”

Your eyes shifted from the bathroom to your kitchen, remembering something. You flicked off the faucet, wobbly walking towards the very thing that’s been peaking your curiosity for the longest time.

The vase of roses.

With a shaky hand you grabbed the note, opening up to reread the one sentence on the paper.

“I wouldn’t mind.” Matt said, with a smile. “I’d think it’d be cool.”

You blink in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. You would be like an actual superhero. Like the ones you see in the comic books. I’ll admit though, I’d be kind of jealous if you did.”

“How come?”

Now you were back in your room, rummaging around for the outfit you wore to work the other day. You know you still have it, you have to. You needed the chance to compare the two.

“Because–” Now it was his turn to shift in his seat. “My best friend has powers and I don’t. Everyone would be in awe with you but with me? Nothing.”

You frown at his words. “Don’t say that. I think it would be nice to have someone different than me.” Then smiles. “Keeps me from not going completely crazy.”

He chuckles. “Well it would be my job to keep you from going nuts. I wouldn’t want you to be the villain of the story.”

You smirk a little at that, scooting closer. “Is that a promise?”

Your (Y/E/C) eyes widened with disbelief for the millionth time tonight. In one hand you had the note from the vase, the other? It was the ad from Nelson and Murdock, the ones they were going to pass out, spread the word.

The one that had their penmanship on the very bottom.

A perfect–

Perfect–

Match.

You held out your pinky. “Promise me. Promise me that as long as we’re together, we won’t become villains in this world. Will always be each other’s light.”

He stays quiet for a second, like he’s thinking. Then he raises an eyebrow, saying, “Superpowered or not?”

“Superpowered or not.”

“Okay. Deal.” He interlocks his pinky with yours. “I promise I won’t do anything crazy while you’re here.”

“Thank you, Matty. I’ll hold you to it.”

You snagged everything that was off the counter, marching over to the window, ripping it open. Without even looking you just tossed it out, letting it drop and shattered on the dumpster lid below.

You just couldn’t believe it as you sank to your knees.

You just couldn’t believe it.

You just…

Couldn’t believe your whole life was in a lie.

(TBC)

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57 notes · View notes

undercoverpena · 2 years

Note

Can we get some angst with Matt?

I mean… always. spoilers for season 3 of the show if you’ve not caught up. I’m currently watching season 3 hence the scene choice

matt murdock x f!reader

summary: he should have just lied.

[part of the mm sleepover]

++++++++++

He anticipated that you’d know he was back before everyone else. Even if you’d avoided him.

But, even he hadn’t expect to find you in the church. Sat in a pew.

You weren’t religious. Hated it all, in fact. But, you were upset and he guesses it was a driving force for what made you enter.

You’d always had a weird gift for knowing where he was—if he was close. He knows he shouldn’t have gone to your apartment, sat on the fire escape just to listen to you sleep.

You had a special sense when he was concerned, and he had a soft spot for you.

Something neither of you could ever explain.

Both fighting it until the last moment, falling together in a blitz of desperation and passion which resulted in him being permanently changed.

For him, you could have been it. If not for Elektra. If not for loving her and you at the same time.

But then you whisper his name, saving him from his thoughts. Pulling him back to the present, to the church.

He’s unsure what to expect when he sits beside you. Half-bracing for a hug, an abundance of emotions. And then he listens, really listens.

Finding you trying to manage your emotions as you face forward, hands together on your lap, awkwardly squeezing and un-squeezing as his knee meets the side of yours.

“Nice of you to let me know you’re alive, Matthew.”

He doesn’t reply immediately. Unsure what to say, do, except answer with: “The person you knew is dead.”

You snort. Small. Sharp. “Well, that answers that then. I guess I’ll move on.”

He can taste your bitterness. Practically feel the waves of annoyance. Your head not turning to face him. Not yet. Your back straightening, body tensing. He can hear it all, each muscle in your body preparing to not give in.

Matt is overwhelmed by the memories too. The good times, the way your nails feel in his hair when he sunk to his knees to bury himself in your thighs. The way you moaned his name, the way your hips twist and move when you rode him. The way your perfume lingered on his skin.

“You should move on.”

You snort again. “I’ll get right on that, Matthew. Up until now I’ve just been carrying a torch for you, creating a shrine—“

“—Look, I get—“

He doesn’t need eyes to know how sharp your glare is.

“I don’t think you do,” you spit, tone sharper, less controlled. “For one, I didn’t run into a building to save my ex without as much as an explanation. Secondly, I didn’t spend months prior to that trying to woo you, only to go and do point one. And thirdly, I didn’t then fake-die for months—leaving those around us to pick up the confused pieces.”

You have a point.

Even deep down. Under grief, under pain and under anger caused by Fisk. He knows it.

In fact, he rather hates that you have a point and are currently handling it with as much grace as you normally do. Your tone levelled, as much as you can—so not to disturb the few others in the church.

“Did you avoid seeing me because I have nothing to exploit or because you were trying to spare my feelings?”

“Would you believe me if it was the latter?”

You don’t smirk. Your heart doesn’t even jump a beat like it used to.

Instead, he hears you clear your throat. “The FBI is very much on to you.”

“I know.”

“Your putting your friends in an uncomfortable position.”

“But, not you?”

It’s only then do you turn. Your eyes brushing over him. He can feel them. They’re like the sun on a warm day, they always have been.

You lick your lips. “No. I know what I signed up for when I kissed you.”

He wants to reach out. Wants to brush a finger over your cheek, to even pull your head onto his shoulder.

Just for a moment.

To pretend to himself nothing is different, even if everything was far from normal.

“Are you in danger?”

He smirks. “Always.”

“So am I in danger?”

He doesn’t know how to answer. Especially when he knows you already know you are. But you like confirmations. Like facts. Not make-believe.

“Tell me you don’t… didn’t love me.” He turns his head as you shift, heart rate increasing. “Lie, if you have to. I don��t have your particular skills to know if you are.”

Your name falls from his lips in a whisper.

“Just…” you sigh, your well-presented front shattering. “I hate you.”

And you move, practically flee as his hand moves to comfort you. Those three words landing like punches to his already bruised body.

Made that much worse by just hearing you hold your tears back until you reach the exit.

Despising himself.

Because he should have just lied.

Should have said he didn’t love you. He never had.

Instead he whispers, “I still love you.”

To no one.

Mainly for himself.

Because he wishes it was different. Wishes that he had said he hated you too.

Especially because soon enough he’ll learn the worst kind of person is inside your apartment. A person you’d once known, brought back into your life because of him.

Someone who is not a friend, but a foe.

A person who steals Daredevil outfits and pretends to be your friend.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil #daredevil x fem!reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x y/n #daredevil x you

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hoedamn-eron · 11 months

Text

baby, please - part 2

You've had an awful lot of wine this week, and your date with Santiago is going well. Very, very well.

Warnings: Alcohol drinking. Bad descriptions of people, I'm sorry. Terrible descriptions of flirting. Again, like one or two swear words. The ending was a little cheesy but I had to end it somehow! Proofread but lazily done. Word count: 3,704 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Part 1 ● Series Masterlist ● Part 3

You greeted your friends at your door with big smiles and huge hugs, ones where you were squeezing each other to death as you prattle on about how long it’s been since you last saw each other and how tonight had been a long time coming.

Obviously, you were ready on time for them after leaving work late. Your hair may still be a little damp after your shower, but you were all wearing your fancy pyjamas anyway, so it didn’t really matter. You had set out an Instagram worthy platter of fruits, cheeses, crackers, and small desserts, which you knew would be devoured before the night ends. And if not, you could use them for your lunches for the week.

You usher your friends into your apartment, practically shoving filled wine glasses in their hands as they went and sat down in your armchair by your window. It had belonged to your grandmother, once upon a time, and you’d inherited it after her death. She wasn’t the nicest person around, and you were surprised she decided to give you anything. It was a comfortable armchair, and only needed a little bit of TLC and revamping for it to make the move to Florida with you.

“How are you and Georgia doing?” you asked Elizabeth. “Have you found a wedding venue yet?”

Elizabeth, your first friend you’d made in Florida, waved her ebony hand at you as she took a big gulp of her red wine. Preferably going by Beth, you both met at your first day at the company. She exuded confidence that commanded attention wherever she went. You had taken over Elizabeth’s job when she left a year after you arrived, to move into interior design. She had her own very successful company, where she had a yearlong waitlist for clients asking to redesign their homes. She had been with Georgia for as long as you could remember, and Beth wasted no time in planning their wedding as soon as Georgia proposed. “Don’t get me started. I personally think we should do destination wedding, because how often can you go and get married in Greece? But she wants a simple wedding, just close friends and family. She wants to save money for the IVF, you know? So…we’re at a little bit of an impasse.”

“Do what I did and flip a coin. Andy won that one.” Courtney smirked. A redhead, gym nut, and overachiever, Courtney was your most down to earth friend who had once been a client for the company. She was the one you went to for sound advice, since she had no problem telling you her true opinion, even if it wasn’t what you wanted to hear. Recently married to Andrew, she’d made a few good-natured jokes at her wedding about your single life before you and one of the groomsmen hit it off and spent the night together. You and Courtney had ribbed at each other the day after about it.

Beth rolled her dark brown eyes. “You white people and your coin flips. I’ll treat it like my business. Focus on the pros and cons and see what flows well with our vision.”

“You could always go to Greece for the honeymoon,” Gabrielle pointed out. She was every family man’s wet dream; blonde, blue eyed, and the epitome of a ‘mom’. She married young, deciding that after working for a few years then getting pregnant, being a mother was her dream job, and you were proud of her for it. She had a four-year-old son and an eighteen-month-old daughter, and with her husband, Matthew, they made a dream team; they were at every soccer game, every play date, every bake sale, and still managed to function and pull themselves together every day. You applauded her. You’d met her on a chance meeting at your first exhibition, when she was still working as an assistant at her old job. You had immediately clicked.

Beth hummed. “We could, but we were looking at France for a honeymoon. We thought we would go to Cannes in time for the film festival.”

“You going to jump right into trying for kids?” Courtney asked.

Beth nodded. “If our plans work out, our first round will be just before our honeymoon. Georgia’s probably looking at donor profiles right now.”

Your evening went on about more wedding plans, how Gabrielle’s kids were doing, Courtney’s future plans for kids, and how her new house was getting on. It was nice, seeing your friends again. Sure, you had occasional one on one time, and you all had your group chat, although that wasn’t as prolific as it used to be, you were still in communication with each other, but there was nothing like being with your best friends all together. They really did melt your stress away. You all were three bottles of wine down and the food board was lacking before the usual topic of your dating life came up.

“So,” Beth calls your name, smirking at you. “Anything new with you?”

You shrugged at her, topping up your glass of the white wine you’d been enjoying. “Nothing much. I’ve got a date on Saturday, with Emily’s neighbour, you know, my co-worker?”

“Ooh, cute, what’s he like?”

“His name is Santiago, he’s ex-army.”

“Sounds stiff.”

“Emily said he’s nice. And good looking.”

“Have you seen a picture of him?” Courtney asked.

You shake your head and Beth laughs. “How do you know if you’re going to like him?”

“I’ll just have to go out on the date and find out,” you say teasingly, taking a sip of your wine. “You never know, he might stick around.”

You ignore the slight pang in your chest as your friends laugh along with you.

Maybe it was because all you did was spend time at the office and all your days were blurring into one, but it was suddenly Saturday, and you had to make yourself get ready for your date with Santiago (or Santi, as he told you to call him). You had both kept up with a few texts here and there during the week, the conversation not actually going anywhere other than talking about the date. That was fine with you, but you would like to have some sort of idea of what kind of guy Santi was.

You’d pondered embarrassingly long and hard about what to wear on your date with Santi before deciding to just go out and find something new. So here you were, with Gabrielle and her daughter, Luna, who had nodded off quite some time ago, her mouth hanging open from her position in her stroller as her mother slowly rocked her back and forth as you browsed through the clothes.

“So are you looking forward to tonight?”

You gave a light shrug before nodding, looking through the rack of clothes opposite your blonde friend. “I guess. Yeah, sure. It’ll be nice to go somewhere that isn’t the office, you know?”

Gabrielle gave a hum as she nodded. “I get that. I don’t get out much for me anymore. What about this one?”

You look up from the assortment of shirts you were looking at to see Gabrielle holding up a forest green, thin strapped dress. It was cute, but it wasn’t for a casual date. You crinkle your nose and shake your head. Gabrielle nodded before hanging it back up and browsing again.

Your turn back to the shirts. “Can you get a babysitter for the kids?”

“Matthew doesn’t trust anyone to look after them, and he doesn’t want to burden our parents.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “I tell him all the time, taking a break every now and then isn’t going to traumatise the kids, but he just doesn’t listen.”

“Can he not watch the kids?”

“He likes doing things as a family. I love him, really, I do. He’s amazing and a great dad, but he’s so…so…”

“Clingy?”

“Yes! No. More like he’s severely ‘family orientated’.” She groaned, briefly closing her eyes before looking at you. “Not like that’s a bad thing – “

“I know what you mean, don’t worry about it.” You give her a reassuring smile. “I’d offer to look after them, but with my hours at the moment – “

Gabrielle cut off your rant with a wave of a hand. “Don’t even explain yourself, I know how busy you are.”

“Maybe when the launch is over – “

“I’ll definitely take you up on that offer when the launch is over.”

You grin before you move over to the next set of clothes before a flash of deep red caught your eye. You pick up the dress from the rack, turning it around in your hands. It was cute, long sleeved, and styled as a button up shirt dress. It cinched in at the waist with a matching belt.

And it was on sale.

It would be good for the date, and for that business meeting you had next week. You were sold.

“I’m getting this,” you said to Gabrielle, putting the dress back before looking through the rest for your size. You pull it from the others, giving it a final once over before hanging it over your arm as you approached Gabrielle, who was also giving it a once over.

She nodded. “Pretty. You should get some new shoes to go with it.”

“I already have those black knee-high boots I bought last month, I haven’t worn those yet.”

Gabrielle grinned. “You’re gonna be a knockout.”

After having a quick lunch with Gabrielle and saying your goodbyes to her and Luna, you made your way home to prepare yourself for your date. You took a nice long, relaxing soak in your bath, using your favourite vanilla scented bodywash. After the water was long cooled, you climbed out and took your time to dry off, moisturising and placing on a face mask, using some of your free time to catch up on your Netflix show you had all but nearly abandoned due to your busy schedule.

Halfway through an episode, you gave Santi another text, telling him you were looking forward to your date. It didn’t take him long to text back, telling you the same and that he will see you there at 7:30pm.

After a few more episodes of your show, you had to get ready, or you’d be late. Your face mask was removed long ago, your skin was glowing, and soft, ready for your usual date make up. You chose to go for a red lip tonight, to go with your new red dress. You style your hair before finally putting on the dress and boots. You grab your bag and look at yourself in the mirror.

You’re damn hot, if you do say so yourself.

You called an Uber, intending on having some wine with dinner. You text your friends your Uber details as you got into the cab and shared your location (you’d heard too many horror stories), thanking the driver before you made your way to the restaurant, five minutes to spare for the reservation. You confirmed to your friends that you’d arrived okay and made your way into the restaurant. You smiled at the host, giving Santi’s name before being led to a table of two towards the front, by the window.

You thank the host and take a seat, placing your bag over the back of your chair as a waiter, barely older than eighteen, quickly comes over and hands you a menu. He introduces himself as Jacob, and he was your ‘server for the evening’. He spouted off the specials they had on that night. You thanked him before ordering a medium glass of wine with a smile. He walked away quickly as took a quick look around. You had to hand it to Santi, Bella Cucina was a nice place. It was dimly lit, but not so much that it was too dark; just enough to be considered cosy. The music was softly playing in the background, blending in with the lull of conversation of the other patrons.

You looked through the menu, not sure if you wanted pasta or pizza, or to try something new. You gave Jacob a thank you as he bought your white wine, taking a sip as you looked back through the menu. A mushroom and parmesan risotto sounded good, in a creamy sauce and spinach. It would definitely go well with your white wine.

The question of your name causes you to look up from the menu. Your eyes widen and your heart skips a beat as you look into the molten brown eyes of the most good-looking human being you’d ever seen, with a head of dark curls your fingers were itching to run through. He was dressed in a white button up, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing his toned and golden hued forearms. He wore dark pants, which were displaying just thick his thighs were, which already had you nearly drooling. With his chiselled jawline, accentuated by a hint of stubble, he exuded a sense of rugged masculinity and confidence. You had to practically lift your jaw up off the floor.

He gives you a smile that was almost a smirk at your blatant ogling, before he holds his hand out to you. “I’m Santi.”

You blink at him before standing, reaching to shake his hand. “Sorry. It’s nice to meet you, Santi.” You introduce yourself.

“Nice to meet you too. Have you been waiting long?”

You shake your head as you both take your seats opposite each other. “Nope, not at all. Just arrived, actually.”

“Okay, good. Did you get a chance to look at the menu? Know what you’re having?”

“I was looking at the mushroom risotto, it sounds amazing.”

“I’ll be sure to take a look.”

You hummed in agreement before picking up your menu again, only to give yourself something to do as you subtly checked him out again.

Emily was right, he was really good looking. Like, just-your-type good looking. You couldn’t stop staring at him. He had a slight crease in his brow as he frowned at the menu, his full, well-defined lips slightly pouting. They looked like they held a promise of tender moments and stolen kisses. Every subtle movement and gesture projected an effortless confidence that was undeniably attractive. You made a mental note to give Emily a bunch of flowers, or a fruit basket as thanks.

Or you needed to get a grip. Although handsome, stunning, practically striking, Santi is just like any other guy you’ve dated.

You avert your gaze as he places down his menu. “I think I’ll have the spaghetti and meatballs. Keep it simple.” He gives you a closed lipped smile.

Jacob made his way over as soon as you closed your menus. After Santi ordered his drink (a standard beer), you briefly discussed appetisers and sides. You both agreed to split a few sides with your mains, giving Jacob a smile of thanks as he walked away to put in your order.

You both went quiet. It was a little awkward, as all first dates were, especially blind dates. You expected it.

“So what is it you do, Santi? Emily mentioned you were ex-army?”

Santi hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, Special Ops, actually. Now I’m just consulting.” He went quiet for a moment before lightly shrugging a shoulder. “Needed to settle down, somewhere. Did a lot of moving around, you know?”

You nod in interest, taking a sip of your almost forgotten wine. “Been anywhere interesting?”

“Mostly South America. Thanks.” Santi gave a nod to Jacob as his beer was placed in front of him. “Nowhere exciting really. Didn’t really see the sights.”

“Maybe one day, now that you’re just consulting.”

Santi hummed in acknowledgement before resting his elbows on the table, leaning forward towards you. “You work in marketing with Emily, right? What do you do in your free time?”

You give a short laugh. “Unfortunately, not an awful lot. I like reading but I haven’t picked a book up for probably a year now. I tried yoga once and hated it. I couldn’t shut off.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I get that.”

“What about you? What do you do in your free time?”

“I jog, and hike sometimes. I occasionally play guitar, but not so much recently.”

Conversation starts to flow a little easier as you wait for your food. You found out that he had a big family but due to his old job, he hadn’t been around much, so they barely spoke. Your heart broke a little for him when he mentioned his father had died when he was young, and his mother a few years ago when he was away in Colombia. You had given his hand a squeeze at that. He had said he was fine, that ‘his boys’ were there, in Florida, and they were his family really.

You mentioned that you weren’t overly close with your family either since they didn’t quite agree with your career path, and the fact you moved away as soon as you could. He got a bit of a kick from that. You talked about your college years, and Santi his early days in training. You shared a few laughs about the things you both got up to, which would make the devil blush.

Once your food arrived, you ordered more drinks, since your first ones had long been emptied. The same again, white wine and a beer.

“This is a really nice place,” you comment as you tuck into your risotto.

Santi nodded. “Yeah, my buddy Frankie brings his wife here all the time. He recommended this place to me.”

“Take all your dates here?” you teased.

He laughed, looking up at you from his food. “Just you.”

You felt your cheeks warm slightly as you smirked, taking a bite from the side of greens you’d ordered.

You talked about what movies you both liked. Surprisingly, Santi was partial to a cheesy romance movie, and a sucker for when the underdog comes out on top. But his favourite movies, unironically, where the Mission: Impossible movies. You teased him good naturedly about that, something he threw straight back at you, laughing.

You talked about your favourite music. Santi was a die-hard Metallica fan and had been since he was a kid. He it had always gotten him ‘in the zone’ back in his army days. You briefly touched upon that, but his, respectfully shot that down. He’d mentioned he’d been out of the game for a while, since he needed surgery on his back, and his bad knees. You didn’t pry, it wasn’t any of your business.

You also talked about your friends. How you had a close group of three friends, but since kids and marriage were coming into play, you hadn’t seen them as much as you used to. Which was fine, of course. Santi then told you of his friends, his brothers from the army. How they were his chosen family, and how he’d do anything for them. He mentioned Tom, someone who he lost half a year ago before he officially retired.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, that’s awful for you.”

Santi shrugged, giving a small smile that didn’t contain any happiness. “It’s okay. It’s a risk we take with the job.”

You both mentally decide to move on and change the subject. You finished your meals and opted out of dessert, ordering more drinks for yourselves instead. It was probably your fourth glass of wine, and you were feeling light but not quite tipsy. The restaurant was slowly emptying, and you found yourself feeling slightly down that the date was coming to an end. You found Santi Garcia to be a captivating paradox, a mix of strength, charm, and intellect in a way that was utterly irresistible.

At this point, Emily was getting a bouquet, and a fruit basket.

You mention getting the check, and seeing if you both wanted a coffee somewhere else. That was when Santi suddenly tensed, and you blinked at him in surprise. Had you said the wrong thing?

“I should really be getting home.”

“Oh. Sure, okay, not a problem.”

He pulled a face, squirming in his chair, uncomfortable. “Listen, I don’t want to sound rude, or anything but…” Santi licked his lips nervously before looking at you apologetically. “I only agreed to this because it got Emily off my back. Don’t get me wrong, you’re really nice, but she’s been hounding me for months about setting me up with someone, and – “

“She can’t keep her nose out of it?” you ask, raising an eyebrow in amusement as you grinned at him.

Santi sighed, his shoulders relaxing just a smidge as he nodded at you. “Yeah.”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry about it. I only said yes because she sounded really excited about setting me up. I’m not interested in anything serious, at all.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Okay. It’s just that Emily had mentioned that your friends were married, and you were – “

You roll your eyes. Fuck the fruit basket. “She was wrong. I have no desire for relationship. We can end this here. I’ve had a great night regardless, if you don’t want to see me again, that’s no problem.”

Santi studied you for a moment before he leaned forward towards you, that smirk on his face again. “In that case, I’m going to be really bold here and tell you I think you’re really attractive and I’d like to make you feel good for the night, if you’re interested?”

Your breath hitched, and you felt a shiver go down your spine. That was bold. And you were all for it.

You cleared your throat, looking for Jacob to ask for the check. You smile at your server, telling him you had a fantastic night, food was excellent, and you would be coming again. You turned back to look at Santi as the teen walked off. You smirked. “Your place or mine?”

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t get you home?” he smirked.

#triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader #santiago x reader #santiago garcia x f!reader #santiago garcia #oscar isaac #pregnant!reader

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inkymagpie · 2 years

Text

The Star in the Field Pt.2

Chapter Rating: General

Overall Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Slight Angst, minimal descriptions of y/n, reader uses they/them/she/her pronouns.

Chapter Synopsis: Morpheus lets out a surprised scoff and looks at the raven with mild amusement.

“Is that what you think, that I’m making a mountain out of a molehill.” Matthew hops closer and the Dream Lord comes to sit on the edge of the fountain.

“I mean maybe? Maybe not. All I’m saying is maybe you should take a day to just I don’t know, relax, go for a walk or something?”

The Endless looks up at the murky skies that had been bright and clear not a few minutes ago.“Perhaps you are right.”

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part4

One of the things that you absolutely adored about humans was their markets; from food to odd trinkets, you could spend your whole day wandering the streets of south London. Initially Hob had to guide you through the narrow streets and bustling stalls, assuring you wouldn’t get lost or heckled (which happened only once and ended quick enough when the merchant found out you had no money). But now you move through the throngs of people with ease, finding great joy in experiencing the day to day life of humanity.

When you had first arrived at the New Inn you had nothing but the dress on your body (having been ruined in the fall), no money and no clue as to what you were going to do now bound to live on Earth. Hob had been more than generous, welcoming you into his home, giving you one of the spare rooms above the Inn and offering you a job of sorts helping him with general management. And considering he had started his adjunct professorship and had to teach two days out of the week he definitely needed an extra set of hands.

You had been nervous of course at first, cautious of the seemingly overly friendly human, especially after hearing of what the last falling star had to endure during her time on earth. However your companion that had dropped you off ensured you that Hob was nothing but trustworthy, and since he had some experience of what lies beyond the veil of mortality he would be one of the few ‘humans’ that would be able to suspend his disbelief of your origins.

That had been a month ago nearly to the day, and you found yourself finally beginning to settle in …well aside from your sleep patterns, but it was getting there.

“Getting another peck of apples today y/n?” The fruit stall vendor smiles as you walk up to the table brimming with ripe fruits.

“Yes sir!” You hand him your basket before adjusting your sunhat, the sunlight glinting warmly in the balmy September air. “The apple pies have been a big hit it seems.”

“That’s one thing I think everyone can agree on.” He nods as he carefully selects the ruby red fruits; he always gives you the best ones.

“What’s that?” You ask as he hands you one to snack on while you shop.

“I don’t think anyone could pass up a good slice of apple pie.” He chuckles.

You grin, apple pie is one of your favorite human treats so you couldn’t agree more.

“If you stop by the Inn on Friday I’ll be sure to have the cook save you a big slice!” He hands you back your basket, now filled nearly to the brim; you hand him a few notes, to which he returns half of them. “What? No, I know they are worth this much.” You try and hand him back the returned money but he raises his hands up with a soft chuckle.

“I’ll take the rest of that payment in that slice of pie.” He replies smiling.

You blink at him for a moment, money still in your outstretched hand. Your arm lowers and you smile brightly, tamping down the urge to shine outwardly.

“I’ll accept that deal good sir.” You put the saved money in the pocket of your dress and do a little half curtsy, he laughs heartily and does a theatrical bow back at you.

“Until next time m’lady.”

There were a few more stops along the way, and even though your arms were now overburdened with items from the market you still stop on the way back to the New Inn to pick up an earl grey tea with milk for yourself and a black coffee for Hob.

“Whooooaaa! Training for a powerlifting competition now I see!” Hob shuffles around a few patrons as you shoulder the door open with a huff. “I don’t know how you managed to carry all this stuff back here in one trip… is that coffee for me?” He takes a few bags from you arms and grabs the drink tray from you as well.

“There is one important thing that I’ve learned while spending time amongst mortals Hod Galding.” You say, tone serious as you follow him to the small but cozy work kitchen.

He eyes you curiously as he sets the bags in his arms down on the kitchen bench.

“One must never make two trips with groceries.” You reply matter of factly, setting your own bags down and reaching for your tea in the tray that Hob now held.

He blinks at you and then barks out a peel of laughter so sharp that you are certain the customers in the bar area can hear him.

You sip your tea looking rather pleased with yourself; knowing that Hob took delight in your humor had become one of your favorite things.

“That I believe is the most important lesson any being, this plane or otherwise could ever learn.” He says wiping his watering eyes when he finally settles down enough to speak without pausing to have a little giggle.

You laugh at that and start to put some of your purchases away.

“Guenevere comes in in an hour, you don’t have to put anything away; not like you bought anything that would spoil sitting out?” Hob leans against the bench and sips at his coffee watching as you organize your purchases.

“I know but I don’t mind helping.” You shrug and continue on, you know that Guenevere would be more than happy to put away the ingredients you had bought for her but honestly… you still felt like you had so much you had to repay Hob for that you pick up any slack around the Inn.

He leaves for a moment to check with the bartender ‘something about Mad Hettie stopping by and drinking the last of the thirty year old whiskey scotch.’

You finish up your prep and store the basket and bags away, taking a moment to lean against the bench and enjoy your tea…except… your mind keeps drifting to the man in your dreams.

You hadn’t told Hob about him just that you had dreamt… it’s not like it meant anything, just a weird figment of your imagination, a creation of your own mind after years and years never dreaming.

It isn’t until you hear Hob greeting Guenevere from the front of the house that you realize you had drifted off into thought again and your tea was now unpleasantly cool.

“So a new Star, huh… I always thought they were like giant balls of gas…” Matthew comments as he watches Lucienne leaf through a few pages from another book. There was a picture of what looked like a sun on the cover so he assumes it must be about space…or something?

“Not all Stars are immortal beings, some are in fact, as you put it…giant balls of gas.” Lucienne replies, examining a line of text with more scrutiny.

“Ya but most of the ones that aren’t balls of gas are balls of hot air.” Mervyn huffs as he works to clean some melted wax off the book ladened table.

“Mervyn…” Lucienne sighs and eyes him over her spectacles.

“What? Thinking they’re too good for the Dreaming and all that.”

“Too good for the Dreaming?” Matthew asks, curiosity more than piqued at this point.

Lucienne lowers the book in her hand, careful to keep her spot as she eyes the two men chidingly, before turning her attention to Matthew, gaze softening a bit.

“Most Stars are ancient beings, older than some of the gods themselves. Since they have existed for so long and do not require rest in the same way mortals do, many of them do not visit the Dreaming anymore.” She replies.

“They don’t sleep?“ The raven cocks his head.

“Oh they sleep.” Merv butts in.

“Stars can sleep, but they don’t require it.” Lucienne ignores the comment from their pumpkin headed companion. “But when they sleep they often bypass the Dreaming.”

“Why would they do that?” Matthew questions, why would anyone want to circumvent the Dreaming?

“As I’ve said they’ve been around for a long time I suppose when you live for that long you sometimes…lose interest after a few millennia.” She shrugs.

Matthew is quiet for a moment, contemplating. Lucienne goes back to her book.

“I didn’t think anyone would ever get tired of the Dreaming, I don’t think I ever would.” He says matter-of-factly.

“Oh they come to visit every thousand years or so; have a little vacation.” Merv says having finally gotten the stubborn wax off the table.

“Merv I’m sure there are other tables that might need your attention.” The Librarian says pointedly and everyone knows it’s her way of telling him ‘that’s enough.’

“Ya, ya …” he waves her off nonplussed, but moves to go about his business. “Maybe you guys should start putting’ I don’t know tea cozies' under your candle fixtures, save me some of the trouble of scrapin’ wax.” He says nonchalantly as he stalks off into another corner of the Library.

Lucienne sighs and shakes her head, the library now finally quiet again.

Matthew decides to give the librarian some air and goes to find Morpheus, maybe he had found out something interesting (though he doubts it, Lucienne seems to always be a step ahead when it comes to sleuthing.)

He finds him in the castle gardens, the great stone pillars and statues once again in all their former glory, the plethora of flora which he is fairly certain didn’t exist on earth beginning to flourish once more.

“Making good progress boss.” He comments as he lands on the grand fountain, which still has a few cracks but no longer a ruin and ruffles his feathers from the mist of water it produces.

“Yes… so it would seem.” Morpheus comments without zeal. “The dreams and nightmares are beginning to return as well.”

“It’ll be an interesting place when it’s all full again.”

“The Dreaming is never full, its expanse is ever growing, shifting.” Morpheus comments, his focus still drawn to the landscape before him.

Matthew watches as the Dream Lord waves his hand and a branching hydra of ivy twists and turns its way up one of the archways that lines the cobblestone path that winds through the garden. A burst of shifting iridescent flowers blooming across its tendrils. Then all of the archways that follow repeat the process until the garden pathway is an ever changing cornucopia of colors.

“You have a question, do you not Matthew?” The raven is sure he sees a small quirk on his master's lips.

“Well I didn’t want to interrupt your hard work.” He huffs, Morpheus can be so smug with his foresight.

Morpheus waits, knowing that his patience will out last Matthews need to find answers.

“Did you find anything out about the Star?” He finally asks, this catches Morpheus’ attention, and he turns towards the raven, a frown drawing his face tight.

“I have not.” he pauses for a moment, weighing if he should ask or not. “Has Lucinenne…” he lets the question hang in the air, hoping Matthew will pick up on it and not make him stoop to asking outright.

“No, not yet.” This causes the frown on Morpheus’ face to deepen.

The air grows a bit chillier and Matthew is quite certain those rain clouds weren’t there a moment again. Ah his boss is brooding again.

“Hey, have you thought about taking a little break, you’ve had a lot on your plate recently.” Matthew says after a lengthy silence where Morpheus stewed in his thoughts.

“What?”

“What if you’re making this whole Star thing into a bigger thing than it is? You just got all your stolen stuff back and the Dreaming isn’t falling apart anymore. Maybe you just need a you day instead of acting like the world is ending.” Matthew shrugs or as best he can with wings.

Morpheus lets out a surprised scoff and looks at the raven with mild amusement.

“Is that what you think, that I’m making a mountain out of a molehill.” Matthew hops closer and the Dream Lord comes to sit on the edge of the fountain.

“I mean maybe? Maybe not. All I’m saying is maybe you should take a day to just I don’t know, relax, go for a walk or something?”

The Endless looks up at the murky skies that had been bright and clear not a few minutes ago.

“Perhaps you are right.”

It isn��t quite cold enough for the fire to be lit in the parlor but the small room is cozy nonetheless and it has become one of you favorite places to end the day; when most of the patrons had gone home and Hob had completed his not so subtle nightly flirting with Guenevere before she too had left for the evening.

You gaze up from your book, and give him a smug little smile as he enters the room, a small tray of biscuits and two teacups balanced in his grasp.

“What’s that look for, hmmm?” He questions as he settles down in the armchair across from you, pulling some papers from the messenger bag beside the chair.

“Oh nothing… How is Guenevere?” You ask, reaching for a biscuit and one of the cups, your nose scrunching up as you catch the scent of coffee wafting from the saucer. “It’s past 10pm, Hob.” But you still take the offered drink anyway.

He sputters theatrically at your gentle teasing.

“I’ll have you know she is doing very well and I am very charming.” He looks rather pleased with himself as he stuffs a biscuit in his mouth. “And it’s decaf, we are out of the Sleepytime tea.”

You click your tongue as you examine the biscuit between your fingers, you wonder if it will taste good if you dip it in the coffee like you did your nightly tea. You decide to try.

“I can stop off at the cafe near the market and pick up some more tomorrow.” You say, trying your new biscuit coffee creation which you decide is acceptable.

“I don’t mind doing that, you already went out today, I don’t want you making another trip just because I was lazy and didn’t check.” He says, neatly stacking the papers he pulled from his bag and clicking his pen.

You wave him off taking a big gulp from your coffee oh! The sugar from the biscuit was a delightful little surprise. “You know I don’t mind going out at all, I actually wanted to do a little window shopping anyway, I keep hearing about ‘fall fashion’ and I don’t want to miss out on what sounds like such an important human custom.”

Hob laughs before settling down and looking over the paperwork in his lap; papers from his students you presume. You settle back in as well going back to your reading.

It’s quiet for a time, save for the sound of Hobs occasionally scribbling.

“I worry about you sometimes.” You look up frowning.

“About me?” Your companion gives you a small glance but quickly focuses back on his writing.

“About what you said, with the last…Star that fell to earth. That people tried to cut out her heart?” You still find it hard to fathom that he believed everything that you had told him so far about Stars… but Hob was a strange man and not exactly…human himself.

“I mean that was years ago, well over a century. I doubt I’ll run into anyone like that.” You hum thinking back to the story that was told to you upon the return of Yvaine. “Are there even witches like that anymore?”

Hob looks at you with raised brows.

“If there is one thing I’ve grown certain of over the years is that you can never be sure of what’s out there.”

You sit back in your chair with a sigh.

“I suppose you’re right…thank you for thinking about me, it means a lot, truly.” You give him a genuine smile which he returns before looking back to his paperwork.

“Just let me know if I have to beat anyone off with a stick.” He chuckles.

You snort and shake your head.

You turn over in your bed for what must be the hundredth time that night, the alarm clock glowing mockingly in the dark.

1am

You had told yourself the night before that you would finally be getting your routine down tonight… but every time you close your eyes, your mind drifts off. The brief mention of Yvaine weighing heavily on your mind.

She had been the only other fallen Star that you had ever known… and certainly the only one to ever return to the heavens and with her beloved husband no less. Maybe, maybe you could return? If you could just somehow find a candle.

A Babylonian Candle; the relic that had allowed her to return… an artifact so rare that it was a shock she had found it amongst mortals at all, a very gift from the Presence himself.

You sign and turn over once again, now facing the window that you had once again refused to curtain.

The next morning you’re up before Hob, well having been up all night you're not sure if it really counts that you ‘got up’ before him. You split a breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast with jam with him before letting him know that you planned to stop by the cafe by the market before going window shopping.

“At least buy yourself a few things, warm things, weathers going to be changing here soon.” He comments and hands you some notes.

“You don’t have to give me money.” You frown and push it back over to him across the table.

“You’re getting your ‘paycheck’ on Friday anyway, just take it a little early.” He has been giving you a weekly paycheck of sorts, a stipend really, since you started helping him around the Inn. You had initially told him no but when he asked you how you intended to pay for things you had been stumped…and begrudgingly accepted.

You sigh as he pushes the money back to you and you accept it, though you do hand him back the extra fifty pounds he tried to sneak you; he laughs and rolls his eyes accepting the truce.

You head out once you are sure the stores would be open and oh Hob was right, there is a chill in the air and you run back inside and ask to borrow a jacket.

Your first stop is the cafe, they do their own blends of tea there and both you and Hob are quite fond of their ‘Sleepytime’ tea. You’re not sure if it actually makes you sleepy but he swears by it and it tastes delightful. You purchase a bag of freshly blended loose leaf tea along with a charming little teaspoon that has a silver sleeping cat on the handle.

Walking back out into the crisp morning air you make your way down to the historic shopping district; a lovely little area with narrow cobblestone streets and shopfronts in brick buildings that had stood for centuries.

You decide that you can’t borrow one of Hobs jackets every time the weather has a nip in the air so you pop into a little clothing store you had walked past a few times while out and about. The mannequins in the window display all wearing cute, warm looking clothing and accessories.

You end up with a darling jacket, one that fits you much better than your borrowed one as well as a push scarf and heavy knit socks with foxes on them.

You stop in a few more shops but nothing catches your fancy enough to purchase; you decide to grab lunch at a small cafe before heading back.

You notice a dessert menu as you finish up your meal and settle on getting a to-go dessert for Hob as a little thank you for giving you your paycheck early. You select a slice of chocolate cake and thank the waitress for her recommendations and pack up to head back to the Inn.

You didn’t really have anything else planned for the day so you take your time enjoying the weather as you walk, taking the long way back past the park. You avoid what looks like a car accident by the park entrance; though you curiously eye a number of ambulances, before giving a quick once over of the crowd before continuing on.

It’s 3pm by the time you arrive back at the Inn, fumbling with the door as you try to balance your bags as well as the dessert for Hob. Finally you manage to scoot the door open and you shuffle inside, you can see Hob on the far side of the Inn speaking with a man in all black who’s back is facing you.

Hob spots you over the man’s shoulder and grins waving you over; you return his smile but before you can take a step further his guest slowly turns to look at you…

It feels as though time stands still, or perhaps it’s your heart… you distantly hear the sound of the bags that were once in your hands falling to the floor.

It’s the man from your dream.

Taglist: @boofy1998 @gnnnne @deniixlovezelda @oo0lady-mad0oo

#the sandman #netflix sandman #neil gaiman sandman #sandman #morpheus x reader #reader x morpheus #f!reader x dream of the endless #morpheus x f!reader #dream of the endless x f!reader #f!reader X morpheus #fallen star reader #stardust #star reader #the Star in the field #hob gadling #dream of the endless #morpheus #lucienne #mervyn pumpkinhead

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wawamouse · 5 months

Text

Oz Rewatch 3: S2E01: The Tip

During opening titles, Sister asked “Does Mr. Mouse ever come back?”, which confirmed my suspicion that she did not register the he had died off screen. With Nino dead, Sister declared that she would simply have to keep tabs on “the little fava bean” (Rebadow). At the end of the episode when I asked if she had any new favorite characters, she said she would “have to fly her little [Sister] wings over to watch over the guy whose baby died”.

Me: Do you remember what his name is? Sister: …Is he Italian or Latino? Wait, what name does he look like… Hm…. Johnny boy! … Ernesto… Rodrigo? (*holding her temples*) Does it start with an A? Not a C name… Something like Domingo… Alvarez. Me: That’s his last name! Sister: Derek Alvarez. (after several minutes of alphabetical guessing, having reached H names) Me: It starts with an M Sister: Matt. Matteo. McManus…. Matthew… Michael? Michelangelo. Me: I think Michael is gonna be the closest you’re gonna get to it. Sister: Mikhail. Mitchell. Megan. Me: It’s somewhere around Michael and Mikhail. Sister: ........Mi...............Miguel! (cheering) Me: So Miguel is going to be your new favorite character? Sister: Yes. Mostly because I remember one of your little screencaps of him from a part we haven't gotten to yet, so I know he’s going to last. So I’m just going to put all my eggs in that basket and watch him start his little drug empire.

Anyway, time will tell if Sister turns into a Miguel fan or simply remains a Miguel observer, haha!

More on the episode itself... I really like the way this season starts! I think framing it as sort of a whodunnit/mystery investigation keeps the episode really focused throughout the runtime. Alvah Case is one of the more rational characters to come through the show, so it's really fun to see him actually trying to poke holes in people's lies and sift through the bullshit, even if ultimately no one is really held accountable for anything (although that turns out to be a save for the riot leaders, so I guess it evens out!).

Overall, I think episode 1 serves as a very good start to season 2, although I feel like the mystery of who killed Ross gets a bit tired in the middle. It's pretty obvious that it was Diane, so the red herrings that get thrown in over the course of the episode feel a little flimsy. That said, the interview style of the chase is still fun (visiting all the different characters), so I find I don't mind it.

Sister also seemed to like this episode. She liked Case, although she said he reminded her of a college admissions counselor and she was confused as to why he agreed to investigate if he's the dean of a college and presumably very busy with that. Much like S1E1, she managed to guess a lot of lines/plot points ahead of time.

Sister: Haha, surrounded by ghosts of girlfriends past.

Sister: By the lady? (Diane)

Sister, laughing: Weren't they all murdered??

Sister: He gonna bite it off… don’t do it! He gonna bite it off.

Case to Diane: And you…? Sister: Cradled him like a baby! Diane: Cradled him in my arms.

Robson's hallucination reminded me of this:

Stray/Final thoughts: Sister has been upholding the grand tradition of roasting McManus at every turn (“he’s been deteriorating rapidly. Usually when someone lands in the hospital, you say 'wow he looks terrible', but he looks the same. Didn't he used to wear suits?”, “he dresses like a 90s deadbeat dad”, “you’d think he’d try and clean up what with two ex girlfriend coworkers but he doesn’t… he’s just making it known that this is as good as it gets”)

Sister is surprised Gloria is still in the show because she doesn’t think Gloria has any story lines and her only purpose in the show seems to be shit talking the inmates and saying how bad they are at every staff meeting ("so like, why are you even here? Go open a private practice and make more money, girl, because you don't even seem to be here for the love of helping people")(me: *staring into the camera like Jim from the Office*)

Sister remains inexplicably suspicious of Sister Pete's character

I really thought Heim was going to do more in the show

Sister's out here thinking s2 is going to focus on the Latinos building and expanding their role in the tits trade by cornering the pharmaceuticals market. Oh how I would love to watch the version of the show in her mind where it's a prison business drama about Miguel making big money moves for El Norte 💀

Sister: People are very bald in this show

#oz hbo #oz rewatch #text

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harrowharkwife · 7 months

Note

tell me about i wanna hold the hand inside you <3

i wanna hold the hand inside you (strange you never knew)... LOTTIENAT FIC MY BELOVED!!!

this is the pre-crash '96 lottienat best friends to lovers fic where, bless her heart, nat's crush on lottie has her juuuuust lovedumb and besotted enough to not realize that when lottie says things like "oh i stopped drinking a couple hours ago so i could drive you home from this party," or "oh you should just stay at my place tonight so i can keep an eye on you," or "next time you drop acid you should do it at my house so i can tripsit you," what she MEANS is, yes, "i care about you and want you to be safe," but ALSO, "i'm so in love with you it makes me look stupid and have thus painstakingly crafted a seduction plan i like to call Harm Reduction-ing My Way Into Your Heart"

snippet!!

Which, like, in her defense- she's high as a kite, and Lot's wearing that long lilac satin slip dress she stole from Macy's last summer over a black high-neck pussybow blouse with long, gauzy sleeves. Knowing Lottie, she's willing to bet good money that it's the kind of blouse that has a neat row of buttons running all down the back, the fancy gumdrop-shaped satin ones that always remind her of old wedding dresses. Lottie likes that kind of thing. It's the kind of outfit that somehow manages to make Nat feel downright Victorian despite its overall modesty: a bizarre sort of dizziness at the sight of exposed wrists or a bare neck, like she might faint just from glimpsing an inch or two of shin. Ridiculous. Lottie being unreasonably pretty is nothing new, but it's also just one of those facts of the universe that's generally easier to deal with if Nat avoids looking straight at it. In any case: it's a day that ends in -y, Natalie Scattorcio is privately salivating over a pretty girl again like one of Pavlov's gay little purse dogs, and Lottie Matthews is hurtling over speed bumps like it's her job, none of which are surprising in the slightest. Especially that last part. Lot's just like this, is the thing. Nat would like to think she's gotten used to it by now, but that might just be wishful thinking on her part, because no matter how zen you are in the passenger seat, Lottie Matthews can seemingly always manage to find another curb to hit. They get home safe in the end though, of course- they always do. Lottie's careful where it counts. Which, speaking of- "Careful, watch the step," Lottie cautions, as if Nat's traversing this driveway for the first time or something, which is laughable in light of the fact that she'd arguably spent more time at Lottie's place than her own over the course of the summer. But the laugh in her voice rings warm and rich in Nat's ear, and she reaches out to steady her with a hand at her waist, so Nat says nothing in lieu of letting Lottie fuss over her a little. Which is probably for the best, because she trips over her own feet ten seconds later, and Lottie's grip on her waist is the only thing that narrowly saves her from tumbling ass over tits over bootlaces as they make their way up the front steps of the Matthews McMansion. Her luck ends there, though: Lottie manages to keep her upright, but not even Mother Mary herself could have saved Nat from the humiliation of puking, rather violently and spectacularly, over the railing and onto Mrs. Matthew's bed of marigolds. "Oh, honey. At least you've got good aim. Let's get you cleaned up, c'mere." "Please, let's," Nat agrees, weakly. Hail Lottie, full of grace.

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newsiesjathrine · 9 months

Text

Part 2/2 of my completed masterlist

Chicago fire

Name

Portrayed by

Position

Seasons

Matthew Casey

Jesse Spencer

Lieutenant, Truck 81

Main[a]

Guest

Kelly Severide

Taylor Kinney

Lieutenant, Squad 3

Main

Gabriela Dawson

Monica Raymund

Paramedic in Charge, Firefighter

Main

Guest

Leslie Elizabeth Shay

Lauren German

Paramedic

Main

Guest

Peter Mills

Charlie Barnett

Firefighter, Paramedic

Main

Christopher Herrmann

David Eigenberg

Lieutenant, Engine 51

Main[b]

Dr. Hallie Thomas

Teri Reeves

Resident Physician

Main[b]

Wallace Boden

Eamonn Walker

Battalion Chief

Main

Brian "Otis" Zvonecek

Yuri Sardarov

Firefighter

Recurring

Main[c]

Randall "Mouch" McHolland

Christian Stolte

Firefighter

Recurring

Main

Joe Cruz

Joe Minoso

Firefighter, Engineer

Recurring

Main

Sylvie Brett

Kara Killmer

Paramedic

Main

Jessica "Chili" Chilton

Dora Madison

Paramedic

Guest

Main[d]

Jimmy Borelli

Steven R. McQueen

Firefighter Candidate, Paramedic

Main[e]

Stella Kidd

Miranda Rae Mayo

Firefighter, Engineer

Recurring

Main

Emily Foster

Annie Ilonzeh

Paramedic

Main

Blake Gallo

Alberto Rosende

Firefighter Candidate

Main[f]

Darren Ritter

Daniel Kyri

Firefighter Candidate

Recurring

Main

Gianna Mackey

Adriyan Rae

Paramedic

Main[g]

Violet Mikami

Hanako Greensmith

Paramedic

Some shows have one or multiple OCs like shameless and friends

House

Allison

Remy

Lisa

James

Once upon a time

Regina

emma

Ruby

Shameless

helene

Florence (oc)

Friends

Ross

Chandler

Monica

Rachel

Phoebe

Mike

Joey

Emily

Ben

Chandler

Leslie

Frank jr jr

Emma

Erica

Jack

Skylar

Amy

Austin

Jill

Elle

Emmett

Charlotte

Scott

Kate

Aaron

Carol

Susan

Elizabeth

Jack

William

Rose

Michell

Michael

Code black

Rox

Ariel

Ethan

Raza Jaffrey as Dr. Neal Hudson, an ER attending physician. A British-Indian former surgeon, his approach is quieter and more people-oriented, than his mentor Dr. Rorish. He connected with Christa during her first year of residency. In "Hail Mary", Hudson becomes a surgical attending, and is once again assigned to the ER (season 1).[7][8]

Bonnie Somerville as Dr. Christa Lorenson, a mature first-year resident. She was married with a son who died of brain cancer. Her experience and her divorce inspired her to attend medical school (season 1).[7]

Melanie Chandra as Dr. Malaya Pineda, a first-year resident (seasons 1–2). She went to medical school and did her internship at Angels Memorial, and is more familiar with the ER. She is a lesbian, who was once involved with a resident when she was a medical student.

William Allen Young as Dr. Rollie Guthrie, an ER attending physician with a very nurturing style; he takes Angus under his wing in his first days in the ER. Guthrie's wife committed suicide, a death that strained his relationship with his son, a surgeon. During season 2, Guthrie is diagnosed with Parkinson's disease, and undergoes corrective neurological surgery to delay the onset of symptoms. Guthrie had a daughter who died from carbon monoxide poisoning while Guthrie tried to save his son from a similar death.

Harry Ford as Dr. Angus Leighton, a first-year resident. His father is on the hospital board. He feels overshadowed by that and by the achievements of his older brother, a former resident, but slowly grows in confidence. In his second year he is encouraged to transfer and become a surgical resident.

Benjamin Hollingsworth as Dr. Mario Savetti, a first-year resident. He grew up poor and sees emergency medicine as his way out. He worked as a bartender before medical school.

Luis Guzmán as Jesse Salander, known as "Mama". A senior nurse who manages the residents, Jesse is tough but caring and supportive of the students. He and Dr. Rorish have a long-term, close friendship.

Boris Kodjoe as Dr. Will Campbell, Chief of Surgery. In season 2 he is assigned as the new Chief of the combined Surgery and Emergency medicine department in order to save costs, causing strife between him and Rorish. Campbell has a disabled daughter (season 2–3; recurring in season 1).

Jillian Murray as Dr. Heather Pinkney, a surgical resident who becomes involved with Mario.(season 2; recurring in season 1). He quickly ends it when he hears about her side relationship with Dr. Campbell. She gets in further trouble when it's revealed she's providing Angus with Adderall. When confronted by Campbell, she threatens to turn their past relationship into a sexual harassment case.

Noah Gray-Cabey as Elliot Dixon, a first-year resident in the ER (season 2-3).

Emily Tyra as Noa Kean, an ER resident and former dancer. She begins a relationship with Dr. Mario Savetti (season 3; recurring season 2)

Emily Alyn Lind as Ariel Braeden (season 3; guest seasons 1–2)

Shiri Appleby as Dr. Carla Niven, a former resident at Angels Memorial and Malaya's ex-girlfriend. She is diagnosed with leukemia while pregnant, and refuses treatment not wanting to harm the baby.

Christina Vidal as Dr. Gina Perello, the replacement Director of the Emergency Department at Angels Memorial, who takes over when Dr. Taylor is put on leave.

Gabrielle Carteris as Amy Wolowitz, R.N., a nurse in the Emergency Department.

Meagan Good as Dr. Grace Adams, returns to the ER after volunteering in Haiti. She is Dr. Neal Hudson's ex-girlfriend.

Season 2[edit]

Nafessa Williams as Charlotte Piel, a new first-year resident in the ER who was formerly a popular teenaged actress.

Kathleen Rose Perkins as Dr. Amanda Nolan, a psychiatrist at the hospital.

Season 3[edit]

Tyler Perez as Diego Avila, son of a hospital board member and a first-year resident. He drives the staff and patients crazy by filming them to make a documentary about the Angels ER.

Alex Lange as Max, a young cancer patient with whom Ariel strikes up a friendship, which turns into young love.

Rosewood

Morris Chestnut as Dr. Beaumont Darius Rosewood, Jr.[6]

Jaina Lee Ortiz as Det. Annalise Villa[6]

Gabrielle Dennis as Pippy Rosewood, Beaumont's sister[6]

Anna Konkle as Tara Milly Izikoff (TMI), Pippy's girlfriend/wife[6]

Domenick Lombardozzi as Captain/Detective Ira Hornstock[6]

Lorraine Toussaint as Donna Rosewood, Beaumont's mother[7]

Sam Huntington as Dr. Mitchie Mendelson (season 2; recurring, season 1)[8]

Eddie Cibrian as Captain Ryan Slade (season 2) [9]

Kamal Angelo Bolden as Ju-Ju

Andrea "Andy" Herrera

Jaina Lee Ortiz

Main

Dr. Benjamin "Ben" Warren

Jason George

Main

Jack Gibson

Grey Damon

Main

Victoria "Vic" Hughes

Barrett Doss

Main

Ryan Tanner

Alberto Frezza

Main

Recurring

Travis Montgomery

Jay Hayden

Main

Dean Miller

Okieriete Onaodowan

Main[b]

Maya DeLuca-Bishop

Danielle Savre

Main

Pruitt Herrera

Miguel Sandoval

Main

Guest

Robert Sullivan

Boris Kodjoe

Main[c]

Dr. Carina DeLuca-Bishop

Stefania Spampinato

Recurring

Main

Theo Ruiz

Carlos Miranda

Recurring

Main

Sean Beckett

Josh Randall

Recurring

Main

Natasha Ross

Merle Dandridge

Recurring

Main

Michael Dixon

Pat Healy

Recurring

Guest

Main

Molly

Pruitt

Pruitt Arike Miller

Anthony Edwards

Mark Greene

S [a]

George Clooney

Doug Ross

S.G

S [a]

Sherry Stringfield

Susan Lewis

S [a]

Noah Wyle

John Carter

S [a]

Julianna Margulies

Carol Hathaway

S [a]

Eriq La Salle

Peter Benton

S [a]

Gloria Reuben

Jeanie Boulet

S.G

Laura Innes

Kerry Weaver

S [a]

Maria Bello

Anna Del Amico

Alex Kingston

Elizabeth Corday

S [a]

Kellie Martin

Lucy Knight

Paul McCrane

Robert Romano

S.G

Goran Visnjic

Luka Kovač

S.G

Michael Michele

Cleo Finch

Erik Palladino

Dave Malucci

Ming-Na Wen

Jing-Mei "Deb" Chen

Maura Tierney

Abby Lockhart

Sharif Atkins

Michael Gallant

S.G

Mekhi Phifer

Greg Pratt

S.G

Parminder Nagra

Neela Rasgotra

Linda Cardellini

Sam Taggart

Shane West

Ray Barnett

Scott Grimes

Archie Morris

John Stamos

Tony Gates

David Lyons

Simon Brenner

Angela Bassett

Catherine Banfield

Greys anatomy

Maredith

Derek

Izzie

Alex

Amelia

Christina

Maggie

Zola

Teddy

Callie

Arizona

Addison

Lexie

April

Miranda

Rebecca

Erica

Sadie

Stephanie

Megan

Leah

Nicole

Eliza

Penelope

Heather

Tara

Catherine

Simone

Jules

Virgina

Margret

Lucy

Nicole

Sydney

Graciela

Megan

Laura

Heather

Sam

Dahlia

katherine

Private Practice

Kate Walsh

Addison Montgomery

Main

Tim Daly

Pete Wilder

Main

Audra McDonald[a]

Naomi Bennett

Main

Guest

Paul Adelstein

Cooper Freedman

Main

KaDee Strickland

Charlotte King

Main

Chris Lowell

William "Dell" Parker

Main

Taye Diggs

Sam Bennett

Main

Amy Brenneman

Violet Turner

Main

Brian Benben

Sheldon Wallace

Recurring

Also starring[b]

Main

Caterina Scorsone

Amelia Shepherd

Recurring

Main

Benjamin Bratt

Jake Reilly

Guest

Main

Griffin Gluck

Mason Warner

Books

lizzie

william

jane

edward

beth

benny

anne

fredrick

molly

richard

charlotte

sydney

allison

lucas

emma watson

mr. howard

catherine

henry

marianne

brandon

brach

amy

laurie

laura

amazo

margret

john

fanny

edmound

elinor

edward

anne

gilbert

annabeth

percy

wendy

peter

jay

daisy

nick

jordan

elizabeth

margret

elizabeth

peter

susan

anne

susan

jackson

anne

ellie

anne

ross

meg

beth

ellie

meg

riker

carrie

grace

anne

carrie

saun

laura

nellie

cora

laura

cole

sophia

katherine and michael

sophia

dylan

sebastion and maggie

penelope

carter

amira and martian

margret

milo

enzo and ansley

anne

andrew

honeymoon

ellie

leo

cara and foster

island

beth

micah

elodie and cody

island

grace

george

faye and zack

england

emma and atlas

nellie

connor

nova and kalen

anne and william

laney and michael

lydia

authour

cynthia

penelope

april rose

mara

bing

brandon

marcus

frank

lalani

frank

mary

caroline

jane

maria

sam

jackson

jolene

ricky

leila

charlotte

finn

annette

emma

alex

fitz

kitty

charles

matt

izzy

jhon

james

mrs reynolds

ricky

jim

mike

harriet

bobby

ryan

catherine

ausin

townes

annie

maddy

sam

vasily

jane

naveen

gigi

#chicago fire #one chicago #house #friends #code black #shameless #ouat #legally blonde #rosewood #err tv show #station 19 #errtvshows1994 #greys anatomy #private practice #books & libraries #television #writing #musicals

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alifeasvivid · 2 years

Text

The Floor is Lava, a ukus rom-com; Chapter 3

>.> as promised

Chapter Rating: T Warnings: omegaverse, alpha Arthur/omega Alfred Summary: Arthur has a meeting with Brandon, Alfred and Matthew bicker until Brandon makes an announcement, Arthur explains some stuff about the renovations to Charlotte Word count: ~2300

Read here on AO3.

Arthur wishes he weren’t feeling such an elevated level of anticipation as he opens the door to Brandon Jones’ office. He can’t even be certain that Alfred is there and he is acutely aware that his instincts signaling the thrill of the chase is a rather inappropriate response to a simple meeting with his contractor.

Brandon’s administrative assistant smiles politely at him as he enters. She’s an omega, probably around Arthur’s age, and mated judging from the ring on her finger and the faint red scaring on one side of her neck. “Good morning, Mr. Kirkland,” she says, obviously having expected him. “Mr. Jones will be out in just a minute. Would you like some coffee?”

Arthur returns her polite smile. “No, thank you.” He surveys the office; it is small, tidy, and clean, but the decor is very minimal. As Arthur understands it, Brandon doesn’t usually have clients here—they are normally met at their own homes, which only makes him more curious as to why he had asked Arthur to come by.

The door to Brandon’s office opens. “Ah! Mr. Kirkland. Thank you for coming in, I know it’s a bit unorthodox.” He greets Arthur with the firm sort of handshake Arthur has come to expect from Americans, particularly other alphas. “Shall we?” he gestures to the open door.

Arthur nods and follows him in.

Brandon sits at his desk and directs Arthur to have a seat across from him and clear his throat. “So to start off,” (one thing Arthur appreciates about Brandon is his ability to just cut right to the point), “the inspection of your house went well and we’ve only found some minor plumbing and electrical issues. The house is in excellent shape considering its age, so we’re able to get started as soon as you say go.”

“That’s excellent news,” Arthur replies, relieved. Of course, the house had been inspected when he’d purchased it, but it’s good to have a second opinion confirming its good condition.

Brandon nods and takes a sip from a coffee mug branded with his own company logo. “I also wanted to thank you for letting Alfred do your inspection and for—”

Not molesting him on-sight? Arthur thinks, but he understands completely and jumps in to save Brandon. He nods, showing his comprehension, and immediately says “It’s perfectly alright, he clearly did a very thorough job and he was very kind and obliging with Charlotte.”

Brandon laughs. “That sounds like him. Even when he was a kid himself, he always had the younger ones following him around like ducklings, even his little brother.”

Arthur forces himself not to melt. He clears his throat. “You thanked me for ‘letting’ him do the inspection. Do clients often take issue with him?”

Brandon hums mildly. “Not always, but it happens. Alfred got his bachelor’s in architecture. He’s very intelligent and capable, he always has been, and my guys have taught him how to do the job right, but as far as the world has come, some people still don’t see past a person’s type. So thank you. It means a lot to him.”

As Brandon speaks, Arthur starts to have the surreal feeling that he has traveled back in time a hundred years or so to some matchmaker’s office. “It was really no trouble at all,” he says neutrally. “I could see he is very competent.”

Brandon positively beams. “Excellent! I was hoping you’d say that. You see, any contractor who works under me has a kind of apprenticeship period before they’re cleared to do work on their own. Alfred has helped manage projects and managed parts of projects by himself before, but he’s never managed one all on his own. We would have had him doing it quite awhile ago, actually, but it’s been… ah, difficult finding the right client.”

Arthur reads that one like flashing neon.

“I haven’t even mentioned this to him yet, I didn’t want to get his hopes up, but I was thinking of having him manage yours, if you’re open to working with him.”

Arthur blinks. He clears his mind and detaches this situation from his attraction to Alfred. He focuses on the old house he had purchased precisely because it is in dire need of updating and he wants to update it. He hired Brandon based on a personal recommendation, various glowing online reviews, and his own impression of the alpha. The man knows what he’s doing. Furthermore, Arthur thinks, this is their process. There should be nothing appreciably different about Alfred taking this on than any other member of Brandon’s team. Except that Alfred is beautiful and smells like sunshine. No. Stick to the situation at hand. “Uh. Yes. Of course.”

“Great! Obviously, I’ll be checking in on him and evaluating him. And if you ever have questions or concerns about anyone on my team, including him, I encourage you to contact me.”

Arthur can’t help but smile at that. Though Brandon’s love and affection for his son are very apparent, he is clearly committed to treating Alfred the same as anyone else who works for him, as much as it is possible. Arthur respects that, he doesn’t know if he could be so impartial toward Charlotte. “I most certainly will, Mr. Jones, thank you. I look forward to working with Alfred.”

—

Alfred sniffs the air as he wanders into the kitchen. He grabs a can of soda from the fridge and leans toward the stove without getting too close in order to investigate the various pots and dishes surrounding it. “Smells good, Matt,” he says with a grin. He reaches out to stick his finger in a saucepan full of melted cheese only to have his hand slapped away.

“Don’t you dare. Ugh. You don’t smell good, did you just get home or something?” Matthew, Alfred’s eighteen year old alpha brother, grabs Alfred by the upper part of his arm and pulls him in close to sniff near his head. “Hm.”

“Hey, let go,” Alfred yanks his arm away. “Jesus, I’ll take a shower. What are you making anyway?”

“Macaroni and cheese cheeseburgers,” Matthew answers.

Alfred’s mouth waters and his stomach growls, but he frowns. “Jeez! Make sure the buns are donuts while you’re at it. Ugh. Your cooking is the reason I have to spend so much time at the gym. I hope your future mate has a great metabolism. And I was supposed to cook tonight. You’re supposed to be studying.”

“Well I did it anyway.”

Alfred sighs in exasperation. “Mattie, I like cooking, okay? I don’t do it just because I’m the omega in the house.” He knows Matthew is a product of the radically egalitarian way they’ve been raised as much as he himself is, but sometimes his little brother has weird ideas about what Alfred should and shouldn’t do as an omega. But he likes cooking. Alfred’s mind flashes to Mr. Kirkland and his little girl from a few days ago. Steamed carrots… that poor kid. Alfred would have protested too.

There’s noise from near the front door indicating their dad is home.

“Boys!” Brandon calls out.

“We’re in the kitchen,” Alfred and Matthew call back simultaneously.

Brandon strides into the kitchen, beaming, and hugs Alfred so hard that his feet come off the ground. "I have great news for you, Alfie," he announces as he releases his son. He places both hands firmly on Alfred's shoulders. "A client has agreed to let you manage their project!"

"No fucking way!" Alfred exclaims, his face breaking into a similar beaming grin, but he winces when his dad gives him a pointed look. "Right. Sorry. Language. So... who is the client?" Alfred tenses excitedly, it has to be him, right?

"Arthur Kirkland," Brandon says.

“Sweet!” Alfred cheers. So Mr. Kirkland is really as open-minded and relaxed as he had seemed to be. He certainly hadn't hovered over Alfred's shoulder or questioned his capability even by insinuation. And his daughter is so adorable. Alfred has been waiting for ages for this chance and Mr. Kirkland seems very calm and composed and he has great taste, so he's likely to be an awesome client.

It definitely doesn't hurt that he's so handsome, either, but the most important thing is to do the job exceptionally well. Alfred is always aware that he has more to prove than others.

Matthew frowns from his spot by the stove. "Hey wait, isn't he that unmated alpha? Dad, are you crazy? And you," he brandishes a cheese covered spoon at his older brother. "You're crazy for sure. You know the most likely reason why an unmated alpha would want to work with you, don't you?"

Anger rises up in Alfred cheeks, turning even his ears red. "Well I guess it definitely can't be because I know what I'm doing or because I'm good at my job!"

Matthew turns and frowns at the macaroni. "You have literally no sense of self-preservation," he mutters.

“That’s enough, you two,” Brandon warns, placing his hand on the back of Matthew’s neck and stares him down. “First of all, your brother can take care of himself,” he says. “Second of all, is that how you would behave, Matthew? Are you saying you’re the kind of alpha that would take advantage of an omega the way you’re insinuating?”

“No, never!” Matthew protests, also instinctively bending in deference to the leader of their house.

“Damn right. And third of all, I wouldn’t have asked Mr. Kirkland if I thought he had any bad intentions. Are we clear?”

Matthew nods. “Yes, sir,” he responds firmly.

Brandon releases him only to ruffle his hair. “I know you’re just looking out for your brother. It’s alright.” He then turns to Alfred. “Alfred. You still need to be careful, got it? I know how you feel about suppressants—”

Alfred folds his arms over his chest and scowls.

“—don’t give me that look. I’d really like you to consider at least wearing scent patches around Mr. Kirkland, please.”

“I’ll think about it,” Alfred concedes.

Matthew smirks smugly at Alfred behind their dad’s back.

Alfred flips him off. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” he announces. He can’t help but grin all the way upstairs. His first solo project and it’s such an extensive overhaul of such an amazing house and the client is sure to be great to work with.

But… what Matthew said needles at him. What if Mr. Kirkland actually does have bad intentions toward him? It couldn’t be the case, could it? Alfred smiles when he remembers Charlotte and how bright she is and even though it has been a few days, Alfred can still clearly remember Mr. Kirkland’s scent, an ancient forest, dewy and clean.

There is no way Arthur Kirkland is the kind of alpha Matthew always worries about.

Alfred settles into his determination: Mr. Kirkland agreed to let Alfred head his renovation because he believes Alfred will do a good job… and not for any reason that Matthew thinks. Alfred will prove it.

—

Arthur returns home from his meeting with Brandon just before Charlotte gets home from school. He sits on the porch with his bass, strumming a few chords idly. With all of the moving, he hasn’t had much chance to play.

“Daddy!” Charlotte exclaims when the bus drops her off. She bounds toward him, drops her backpack on the porch steps and sits right at his side. “What are you playing? Are you writing something?”

Arthur leans over and kisses the top of her head and tucks her close to him. “No, love, not at the moment. But I have some good news!”

Charlotte springs back and gives him an expectant grin. “What is it?”

Arthur strums the instrument softly. “The renovations of our house will begin on Monday.”

Charlotte dramatically flops over and sighs in relief. “Finally!” she exclaims.

Arthur musses her hair. “Oi. Behave,” he says, tweaking her nose lightly. “I know it’s been frustrating for you; you’ve been a very good girl and I appreciate you. But yes, we are finally getting started, so on Monday after school, Grammy Lucy will pick you up and then I’ll bring over your things. So this weekend we have to pack, understood?”

Charlotte nods enthusiastically. “Is Alfred going to help us fix the house?” she asks, eyes bright.

Taken slightly aback, Arthur tentatively nods his head. “Er. Yes, he is, but—”

“And if I’m not here, how will you know how I want my room to be?”

Arthur ruffles her hair again. “You can tell me or write it down or draw it for me and I’ll sort it out.”

Charlotte scrunches her nose for just a second. “But what if you get it wrong? Isn’t it better if I tell Alfred myself?”

Arthur raises an eyebrow at her. “Lottie, I know that you like him, but you want the renovations to be done as soon as possible, don’t you? He’ll be here to work, not play. The fewer distractions that he and his team have, the faster the house will be finished.”

Charlotte scrunches her nose and it stays scrunched this time. “I won’t be a distraction!” She pouts. “I’ll be good, I promise! I won’t get in the way. You said it’s my room and I can make it however I want.”

Arthur sighs. She’s definitely going to be an alpha, he’s certain of it. “I did say that. Yes. Very well, but” he holds up his hand when her eyes light up and she starts to speak, “wait— but the rest of the time, you will be with Grammy Lucy. Once the construction beings, I’ll be there too, alright?”

Charlotte nods happily. “Yup. Thank you, Daddy!” She slides off of the couch and dashes up the stairs, not doubt to start making plans.

Arthur shakes his head, but smiles. Of course, it’s then he realizes that before anything begins, he’ll have to explain his own plans to Alfred and… they are quite extensive. He sincerely hopes Alfred is up to the challenge.

#ukus #usuk fanfic #omegaverse #spadian ballad #Lucy is not Arthur's mom she's Charlotte's maternal grandmother

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igrofox · 2 years

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Bradley: So you're back.. Cole: Uh-huh.. I... I know it might be a bit unexpected... Bradley: A little? Snowball, you were gone for 6 years and “slightly unexpectedly” is putting it mildly. Cole: But I came back... And I wanted to write to you back then and explain what happened, but everything happened so chaotically and unexpectedly. At first I was so angry and depressed that, apart from being angry at my stepfather in my room, I didn’t want to do anything else. I hesitated to contact you back then... We didn't have the best time back then, but I left and I thought you were going to send me to hell, so... It would be better if you just forgot about me. I didn't think I would ever come back here. Bradley: Just forget you? Yes, do you have any idea what I had to go through at the moment when you just disappeared? Our quarrel and its consequences, then your disappearance in parallel with the sick of the sisters... I can’t find a place for myself! I needed support, your support. I was ready to forgive you everything, if only at that moment when the girls were in the hospital, you were next to me.... And you didn’t even dare or didn’t want to dare to call me! Cole: I'm sorry... I really didn't know what would be the best thing to do at that moment... And if there's still a chance, I'd like to make amends and be with you again. That's why I came after all... Belle got my brains right and when she mentioned that you were leaving in a week, I realized that there would be no other chance. Bradley: I... I don't know, Cole. Maybe I would like to return everything.. You, our relationship, but as you already understood, I became a father and now you don’t know much about me... I’m not the one you remember... Cole: So tell me... Tell me everything you've been through, everything I've had to miss. How did it happen that you became a dad, how and with whom you experienced everything that happened... Bradley: \heavy sigh\ Cole... I could be married and happy.. Didn't you think I didn't want to remember all that I had to go through? Cole: Yes.. Sorry, I didn’t think... But it seemed to me that we both couldn’t imagine life without each other... At least it was like that before... Bradley: *You're damn right...* Cole: But maybe, just like with an old close friend, can you share how you have changed in these 6 years? Bradley: Do you really want to know? Cole: Yes. Bradley: After our quarrel, I was still in my mind ... I just got drunk and ... And slept with Lydia, at that time the manager of my father's club, and a little later with another girl, although I vaguely remember that evening .. this girl and became the mother of James and Leah ... Then on the day you disappeared, the sisters had a seizure and were hospitalized. Felice had surgery... I almost went crazy in those weeks. If not for Lydia, I don’t know how I would have survived that time. I stayed with her ... Until, after a couple of months, we found out about her pregnancy, even though we used protection. But soon she left me, and then I was completely blown away ... I could not imagine how I could live without you. In my head there were only thoughts about you, your body, our love ... And the only thing that saved me was alcohol and the warmth of someone else's body ... I visited many beds, even despite the fact that at some point I got together with Violetta... I'm still with her, although at the same time I'm sleeping with another guy, but I can't leave her now... In 4 months we will have a common child... Cole: 4 kids... crazy... how old are they now.. Bradley: Jamie and Leah are 6 each, Matthew is 3. From that time, there is now a whole mountain of consequences... A little less than a year has passed since the problem with the registration of twins and the disappearance of their mother ended... And now they are my universe, my two stars. Cole: And the rest.. Bradley: Matthew lives with Lydia and her brother's family. But we visit him often, and he comes to us. And Vio... another headache... I definitely don't want to talk about it... Cole: I... I'm sorry I made you suffer... Bradley: I don't hold a grudge against you anymore, even though it sometimes torments me that you're involved in all of this.\Mobile phone ringing\ Sorry, I... Cole: Nothing, answer. Bradley: Yes. Hi Dan.. I'm a little uncomfortable talking... Cole: *So what now? What to do?* Bradley: Yes, at the end of next week. My parents will arrange, let's say, a "farewell" dinner for me, the whole family. Okay, let me call you back and we'll set up a meeting then. Yes, let's do.

Megan: I'm still worried.. Felicity: Mom, they need this conversation. Megan: What if he gets depressed again? He just got better, he began to live anew. Felicity: Everything will be fine. Brady now has a strong incentive not to fall into her - James with Leah. Megan: You're right...

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intothegreyx · 1 year

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Name: Rhett Matthews

Age: 31

Birthday: June 15th

Zodiac: Gemini

Occupation: Currently unemployed, but a struggling musician

Hometown: Cambridge, England

Current Location: Seattle, Washington

Sexuality: Pansexual

Relationship status: Dating Allegra Nardi

About Rhett:

TW: Drug use, drug abuse, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, and drug overdose (TW bullet points will be italicized)

Rhett Matthews was born on June 15th, 1991. He was the the oldest of 7. He had two sisters and 4 brothers. His sisters and two of his brothers were twins.

His parents had to spend most of their time working to pay the bills, so Rhett devoted much of his time to watching over his siblings growing up.

When he wasn’t doing that, he spent all his other time learning how to play music, drawing and painting. Rhett was a very artistically gifted boy. He was far beyond his years when it came to playing music, as well as drawing.

Over his youth, Rhett learned how to play the guitar, piano, bass guitar, cello, violin, trumpet and the drums. His favorites to play were guitar and piano, however, so he mostly focused on those when he could.

His parents always encouraged Rhett to pursue whatever he wanted so he put all his effort into music. Rhett began to write his own songs when he was around twelve years old and never looked back.

When Rhett was twenty years old, he said goodbye to Cambridge and moved to New York City, knowing that his best chance to get on a label was to move to America. And what better place was there than America?

For about a year, he worked odd jobs around the city, saving up every single penny he could so he could rent a recording studio. It was hard, but he managed it and got himself a studio for 3 hours. In those three hours, Rhett put his heart and soul in a demo that he truly believed was going to take him places.

Slowly, but surely, responses started to trickle in about his demo and every single response he got, was a denial. None of the labels thought he was a good fit.

Rhett fell into a depression. He wasn’t able to get himself out of bed. Every day it was harder to want to want to be there. Rhett truly thought that he was meant to play music and he was meant to be a rockstar…and without that, he was nothing. Rhett couldn’t dare to think about it.

He attempted to end his life by hanging himself but fortunately for Rhett, his roommate at the time came home and caught him just in time.

For weeks, he still didn’t budge from his bed. He just wallowed. He had a few friends from his local music scene visit him and one in particular knew that Rhett was struggling and offered him a hit of cocaine to try and ease the pain. Having nothing to lose, Rhett obliged and that was his first introduction to drugs.

From there, he quickly spiraled into addiction. He started with cocaine, then moved to smoking crack and once that lost its luster, Rhett found heroin. He has been using it ever since.

After a while, Rhett was finally able to start living his life again, getting random small jobs around town just to make some cash so he could support his lifestyle.

Rhett had missed paying his roommate rent for several months and he was kicked out of his home. With nowhere to go, Rhett lived on the streets for a short time before he found himself living at a homeless shelter. He spent a few months there before he found an ad in the newspaper about an old woman needing a hands-on roommate to take care of her home. Much to his surprise, the ad hadn’t been filled and the old woman, named Rosa, agreed to let Rhett live with her without pay as long as he did all the manual labor of taking care of the home. She was just too old to do it herself anymore.

For a while, Rhett was dating a man named Rafael who he was madly in love with. However, Rafael couldn’t deal with his drug addiction and he broke up with Rhett. After a few months of fighting and begging, Rhett eventually agreed to go to rehab for the man. However, when he finally agreed, Rafael disappeared into the night without a word, leaving Rhett alone again. The pain of his love disappearing without a word led him to overdose once again.

From there, he just continued to survive as an addict, partying, sometimes making money from gigs. Through his partying, however, he met Allegra Nardi and for months, they beat around the bushes with one another. Rhett was afraid to fall in love again, but he did it anyway and fell head over heels for her.

However, Rhett’s addiction never waned and he was so far in debt with his dealer that the two of them decided to leave New York City and move across the country to Seattle. It was the only thing they could think of to do while he worked on getting money to pay off his dealer.

#about rhett #sewa.intro

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tonopahfallshq · 2 years

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Name: Rhett Matthews Age: 31 Occupation: Employee at Water Fairy Studios Time living in Tonopah: 6 Months Neighborhood: Webster Village Gang Affiliation: None. Face Claim: Jamie Campbell Bower

Biography: ( TW: drug use, drug abuse suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts )

Rhett Matthews was born on June 15th, 1991. He was the the oldest of 7. He had two sisters and 4 brothers. His parents had to spend most of their time working to pay the bills, so Rhett devoted much of his time to watching over his siblings growing up. When he wasn’t doing that, he spent all his other time learning how to play music, drawing and painting. Rhett was a very artistically gifted boy. He was far beyond his years when it came to playing music, as well as drawing.

Over his youth, Rhett learned how to play the guitar, piano, bass guitar, cello, violin, trumpet and the drums. His parents always encouraged Rhett to pursue whatever he wanted so he put all his effort into music and painting. Rhett began to write his own songs and painting whenever he could when he was around twelve years old and never looked back. When Rhett was twenty years old, he said goodbye to Cambridge and moved to New York City, knowing that his best chance to get on a label was to move to America. And what better place was there than New York? For about a year, he worked odd jobs around the city, saving up every single penny he could so he could rent a recording studio. It was hard, but he managed it and got himself a studio for 3 hours. In those three hours, Rhett put his heart and soul in a demo that he truly believed was going to take him places.

Rhett sent the single out to label, after label, after label and for two years, he hadn’t heard a single response from any of them. He was starting to get discouraged and was starting to think that his dream was dead. But Rhett continued to play at local clubs, just wanting to play music. Slowly, but surely, responses started to trickle in about his demo and every single response he got, was a denial. None of the labels thought he was a good fit. Rhett fell into a depression. He wasn’t able to get himself out of bed. Every day it was harder to want to want to be there. Rhett truly thought that he was meant to play music and he was meant to be a rockstar…and without that, he was nothing. Rhett couldn’t dare to think about it. He attempted to end his life by hanging himself but fortunately for Rhett, his roommate at the time came home and caught him just in time. For weeks, he still didn’t budge from his bed. He just wallowed. He had a few friends from his local music scene visit him and one in particular knew that Rhett was struggling and offered him a hit of cocaine to try and ease the pain. Having nothing to lose, Rhett obliged and that was his first introduction to drugs.

From there, he quickly spiraled into addiction. He started with cocaine, then moved to smoking crack and once that lost its luster, Rhett found heroin. He has been using it ever since. About six months ago, Rhett decided that music clearly wasn't working out for him and he wanted to pursue his over love, art. New York wasn't all that known for it's painters, from what he knew. So he decided to move across the country with nothing but a couple hundred dollars, some clothes and his guitars. Living in Vegas was far too expensive, so he found a small place outside of it called Tonopah Falls. There, Rhett was finally able to start living his life again, getting random small jobs around town just to make some cash so he could support his lifestyle.

With nowhere to go, Rhett lived on the streets for a short time before he found himself living at a homeless shelter. He spent a few months there before he found an ad in the newspaper about an old woman needing a hands-on roommate to take care of her home. Much to his surprise, the ad hadn’t been filled and the old woman, named Rosa, agreed to let Rhett live with her without pay as long as he did all the manual labor of taking care of the home. She was just too old to do it herself anymore.

To this day, he is still living with Rosa, keeping his drug addiction hidden from literally everyone in his life, and still trying to make an artist of any kind. Rhett wasn't picky at this point.

Headcannon:

All of his siblings have R names. Two twin boys, Randall and Ricky. And then boy and girl twins, Ryan and Riley. And then two sisters, Robin and Reagan.

Rhett's favorite instruments to play are guitar and piano (and singing). His least favorite is the trumpet (and the triangle and shakers, but he barely counts those because everyone can play those).

He isn't very great at swimming. He often looks like he's flopping around, trying to find his way to shore again.

His favorite food is tomato soup and a grilled cheese. -Aside from painting, his next favorite art medium is charcoal.

Rhett has several tattoos all over his body and his nose pierced. He used to have his nipples pierced back in the day, but he let them close up.

#rhett matthews.#not affiliated.#male.#tfhq.characters

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