#but he didn't even pay rent and now he's just lingering in the corners of my mind- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

camaro-and-smokes · 4 months

Text

Get Out of My Dreams, Get Into My Car

Chapter 1: Who's That Girl

Read on tumblr: CH 1 [CH 2] / ?

Read on AO3 >>

No Warnings. Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harringtonm Other Characters to Be Added, Original characters. Tags: AU - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, AU - No Supernatural, AU - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Billy Hargrove Lives, Gay Billy Hargrove, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Fluff, 90s, Genderfluid Billy Hargrove, Roommates, Other Tags to Be Added

Summary: 1992 in San Diego, where Steve recently moved because of his new job, he runs into Billy - literally. Billy isn't exactly what he used to be when Steve had last seen him, but it isn't a bad thing. At all. By chance, they end up as roommates and, well…

Notes: New year, new fic... Just pure fluffy fluff fluff! Enjoy 💜

::::::::::

“Thanks, Mandy,” Billy said and lifted the cardboard cup. “I’ll pay for this tomorrow.”

The waitress on the other side of the counter smiled. “Hey, it’s just one black coffee. Don’t worry about it. I’ll cover for it.”

Billy sighed, grateful for the gesture. “Honestly, thank you. I owe you.”

Mandy laughed. “Just go already. You'll be late again otherwise.”

Billy adjusted the strap of his full bag on his shoulder and walked towards the door. He realized he hadn’t taken out his smokes when he had the chance to do it with two hands, and now he had to do it with just one. “Fucking piece of...where are you?” he cursed as he tried to fish the pack of smokes from the bag while walking out of the coffee shop and onto the sidewalk.

He was so occupied that he almost walked into someone, their shoulders nudging together. The cover was the only thing that kept his coffee in the mug , only partly spilling it on his hand. He muttered an apology as he continued digging. He was all the way at the next junction when he finally caught the pack in his hands and stopped to light a smoke.

This day was one he would be glad when it passed. The Camaro had stalled into a junction in the morning, he'd had to have walked to the workshop to get the tow truck and then he had been so busy with other cars the whole day that he’d had no time to even look at what was wrong with it. And now he was late from his aerobics' class because he had to fucking walk everywhere, and he'd been late far too many times from the classes already. Alice, the owner of the studio, had already warned him she would have to cut him off from the instructor list if he didn't up his game, and fast.

And now he really needed the money. When Rob had broken up with him, he'd decided to stay in the bungalow by the beach they'd rented together. It was the first place that felt like home ever since he'd ran away from Fuckward, Indiana, and back to Cali, and he didn't want to let go of it.

At that bungalow, he'd become to terms with who he was. Happy to have a day job at the garage as a mechanic and the few aerobics classes he instructed at evenings, the neighbourhood kids' basketball team he coached that kept nailing it against the uptown teams, and the kids from foster families he taught how to surf. The musky but feminine perfumes perfectly fitting in the same row with his aftershaves. The pink crop tops in his closet, and the red nail polish and lipsticks on his dressing table.

He was being himself for the first time, and since it was now just him, he would embrace it now more than ever.

He just needed someone to pay the rent with him.

---

Steve was reading the 'for rent' -advertisements in the newspaper while he walked towards the coffeehouse at the street corner, a short walk away from his hotel and one he'd taken as his go-to place to get something small to eat. He was so occupied that he didn't notice the person who walked out the door and their shoulders connected shortly, causing him to take his eyes off the newspaper.

“Oh, sorry,” Steve apologised, but the person kept walking without turning around. Their perfume lingered in the air after them, and Steve turned to look over his shoulder after them. He smiled a little, for it was a sight to behold.

Blonde, curly hair in a high bun, held up with a pink scrunchie. Their white crop top showed a well-toned back and waist, finished with blue, high cut jeans that were hugging their figure and barely covering the top of their thighs. The look was finished with white leg warmers and white Reeboks. Steve thought he wouldn't mind looking at that sight a bit closer and kept staring until they vanished behind the building at the next junction.

He walked into the coffee shop and ordered a black coffee and a chocolate chip muffin. With his purchase, he sat down at a table in the back of the shop and kept reading the advertisements. He had to find a place to stay by the end of the week. Sure, he could stay in the hotel, but it would cost way too much he was willing to spend right now. He'd rather pay rent for a place of his own than for a hotel.

He'd moved in San Diego for the job as marketing manager for the national video rental chain that Family Video back in Hawkins had become a part of. The job would start next Monday and it was Wednesday, so he had a few days free to do some hunting for a place. He wasn't looking for buying a house right now, he still wasn't sure if San Diego was the place he'd want to settle in. So, for now he was only looking for rentals, either by himself or with a roommate, either one worked right now.

Unfortunately, none of the ads looked like a proper fit. They either had too high rent for his budget, or then it was a room with a bunch of college kids, which didn't suit him anymore. He wouldn't be able to live in a place full of young adults partying all week, every week. He'd imagined it would've been easier to find a place to stay in San Diego, but it didn't really seem like it.

When he'd drank his coffee, he walked back to the counter. “Hey, would it be possible for me to leave a wanted ad on your notice board?” he asked the waitress.

“Sure! Need a pen and paper to do that with? I can put the note up for you.”

Steve wrote the note and gave it to the waitress. He squinted to read her name on the badge on her apron. “Thank you... Mandy. I'm staying in the Holiday Inn just around the corner. Thus the mention to ask for a name in the note.”

She looked at the note and smiled. “No problem. You're not the first.”

Steve hoped that someone would respond sooner rather than later.

He stopped by the café on Thursday and on Friday, mostly because he wanted to ask Mandy if anyone had asked about his ad since no one had called him. And, okay, partly because he was hoping to run into the blonde again. But no one had asked about his note so far and the blonde wasn't anywhere to be seen, so he'd gone about his days getting to know his new home town.

It was Saturday when he was yet again reading the 'room for lent' -ads in the newspaper as he walked towards the café. He had almost given up any hope of finding any place by Monday and was looking at the ads just with a vague hope.

He was engulfed enough that he didn't look in front of him and walked straight into someone. He hit his face into the newspaper, and then he felt hot liquid covering the front of his shirt.

“Fuck!” a baritone voice groaned.

Steve tossed the now wet newspaper on the pavement and looked at his shirt, annoyed. Then he looked at the door of the café, pondering if he should go in and ask for a towel to dry the coffee off his shirt. He turned to look at the person squatting on the sidewalk, trying to gather the things that had fallen out of their bag on the ground when they walked into each other.

To Steve's surprise, it was the blonde.

They got up and started damping Steve's shirt with a napkin they'd found from among their things on the sidewalk. “I'm so, so sorry! Shit! I didn't look up and...”

Steve's mouth fell open in surprise. “Hargrove?”

Billy looked up for the first time, and his eyes widened as he recognized Steve. “Harrington? Fuck, this is embarrassing.”

Steve let out a laugh. “Uh, yeah. Not exactly how I thought we'd bump into each other.”

The cafe door opened and Mandy walked out. “I saw what happened. Here, try this,” she said and handed Steve a towel. “I hope the coffee wasn't too hot anymore.”

“Thanks, I'll survive,” Steve replied, smiling. He patted his shirt with the towel and turned to look at Billy, who was still collecting his belongings from the sidewalk. “So, how've you been? I mean, you seem to be...”

“I'm doing good,” Billy mumbled, still squatting on the ground and checking his bag.

Steve saw something rolling on the sidewalk and he took a few steps to pick it up. It was a pink lipstick. He showed it to Billy. “This...yours?”

Billy smiled a tense smile, taking the small container and opened it. The pink tube of wax fell out from the tube and back to the pavement, breaking into even smaller pieces. “Fuck,” he groaned.

“Uh, hey, can I buy you a fresh coffee or...?” Steve asked.

Billy shook his head, pulling the zipper of his bag closed and getting up. “Sorry, I gotta go. I'm already late, again.”

“You have a car close by?”

“No, in fact, my trusty steed died the other day and I have to walk to the studio,” Billy said as he shouldered his bag and started walking. “But see you around Harrington!”

Billy had already taken several steps when Steve shouted after him, “Hey, Hargrove! I have a car, on the other side of the street. Let me drive you! It's the least I can do for breaking your...lipstick.”

Billy stopped and turned around, chewing his cheek. “You wouldn't mind?”

Steve smiled and shrugged. “No, of course not! Come on,” Steve said and pointed to a dark red BMW on the other side of the street. “It's that one.”

Billy snorted. “Should've guessed.”

When they got into the car, Steve started it. “So, where to?”

“Turn around, turn right, then left from the next lights. The studio is then just before the next lights,” Billy said.

“So, right around the corner, then.”

Billy shook his head. “Yeah. It's not far, but you know, without a car...”

Steve nodded and turned the car around.

After a while of awkward silence Billy spoke. “So, what are you doing in San Diego?”

Steve smiled again. “Came here for work. Marketing for the video rental chain that bought Family Video.”

“Wow,” Billy said, nodding. “Good for you.”

“Yeah. Far enough from having to work for my dad.”

“Right.”

They remained silent for the rest of the short drive, one that was even more awkward than the one before.

Billy hadn't imagined to run into Steve again, not at least like this. And he hadn't definitely imagined to run into him in the outfit he was wearing. Seen his lipstick of all things. Steve was the first of the people from his past who'd learned about all that, even if only superficially. Surprisingly, it didn't really feel as bad as he'd imagined.

Steve looked at the neon sign above the doors of the aerobics' studio when he parked the car. “Alright, here we are.”

Billy got out and was about to close the door when Steve spoke again, leaning to look at Billy. “Hey, I just, honestly...It was great to see you. You're clearly doing great. I'm happy about that.”

Billy smiled. “Yeah. I'm better. Actually.”

Steve smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I can tell. Just wondered about it sometimes.”

Billy closed the door and leaned to look at Steve through the open window. “You did?” he asked, curious.

“I did. Actually.”

Billy smiled a small smile. “Well, I hope you like San Diego.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Steve replied, smiling even wider.

#harringrove fic #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #meet cute #suometar writes #get out of my dreams get into my car

15 notes · View notes

smexy-slashers · 2 years

Note

May I request Brahms Heelshire with female s/o oneshot or hcs ?? Honestly I’m happy with any Brahms related content 👀 tysm for reading my request and make sure to take breaks when writing :)

Apologies

Brahms Heelshire x reader

You guys are too sweet istg<3

I hope this is okay lovely :)

I WAS IN A MOOD FOR A BIT OF ANGST-

~~~~~~~~~~~

Living with Brahms, and being in a relationship with him, was difficult, and you understood this. You knew he had issues, and despite your differences, you loved him just as much as he loved you. Yes, he was demanding, and albeit controlling...but you honestly couldn't find it in yourself to care that much, eagerly meeting his needs with just as much enthusiasm as he demanded them with.

The rules were simple to follow, and you had no need for a job since there was no rent to pay, The Heelshire money covering any and all expenses. All that Brahms asked in return was that you loved him, and that you cared for him, which was quite possibly the easiest thing you had ever been asked to do.

However, sometimes it was difficult, even for you. Brahms being demanding wasn't that bad, but his temper tantrums were something you struggled to handle. If he didn't get his own way, he became angry, smashing things left and right, banging against the walls and in general being awful. They would last around the day, and sometimes his spitefulness caught you off guard. Brahms could be horrible when he wanted to be.

His temper tantrums were exactly why you were curled up on your bed right now, rubbing your teary eyes and crying into the bedsheets. Earlier that day, Brahms had gotten upset, and you didn't exactly know why, but he had become violent. He was yelling at you, swearing and screaming so loud that you were sure the town would be able to hear. You could do little to calm him, not being a very confident person yourself, so you were cornered, watching as he tossed plates across the kitchen.

When you had tried to say something, anything to reduce his anger, he paused, glaring at you with such hatred it made you sick. In seconds, he was storming across the kitchen, shoving furniture out of the way and instantly placing himself infront of you, chest pressed against your own and eyes burning into your skull. He had cursed you out, threatened you, angry words blurring into violent noise. One thing he said though ended up sticking with you the entire day.

'I don't know why I kept you around. You're useless. I hate you.'

This had hurt you more than his rampage, as you truly did love him, and the way he spat out those words like they were poison in his mouth made you nauseous.

You attempted to cry quietly, not wanting to alert Brahms at all, in case he was still furious. This, however, failed. There was a small noise by your doorframe, causing you to look up. Brahms was lingering by the entrance to your room, wringing his hands and overall carrying a sense of guilt and anxiousness.

You decided not to acknowledge him, pressing your face into your blanket.

"...(Y/n)?"

You didn't respond, curling in on yourself further, and, although you couldn't see it, Brahms was frowning. When you didn't respond, he stepped forward slowly until he was on his knees by the side of the bed, peering at your shaking form in concern. Reaching out slowly, he attempted to nudge you, but you whimpered, shifting away from his hand, "Don't touch me." Your voice was muffled, but Brahms heard it loud and clear, flinching back, clenching his fists.

He knew he had hurt you, you could tell, but you weren't going to give him the privilege of being close to you again until he apologized, as much as you wanted to crawl into his arms.

"...I'm sorry...I..I..didn't mean to yell at you..or say those things...I..I'm so sorry..."

You peered at him over your arms, taking in his shaking form, trying to tell if he actually meant it or not. Brahms was squeezing his hands repeatedly, and he looked almost on the verge of panic. You could tell he was being serious, and were about to sit up to talk to him about it, but he continued before you could.

"I'll be good, I will. I'll do anything you want just don't-...please don't leave me. I need you I-....please don't leave me alone.."

"I'm not leaving you."

You croaked, causing him to stop.

"...Promise...?"

You nodded, and Brahms hesitantly climbed onto the bed beside you, enveloping your curled up form with his large frame, touching you as If he thought you were made of glass. You sighed, rolling over to face him, causing him to jump back slightly.

"What you did today..wasn't okay. You scared me, Brahms."

He hastily drew himself closer to you, "I know, I know my love. I promise..I-I promise I won't ever do that to you again.."

You pressed yourself into his chest, allowing him to hold you, "I thought you were going to hurt me.."

This time, Brahms audibly whimpered, crushing you against his chest, "No no no no..I would never I-! ...never never never. I would never hurt you my love-"

"I know baby, I know."

You shushed him, nuzzling your face into his neck and he held you, arms trembling. Brahms had problems, you knew this, and you stayed anyway. Not because of the money, or the idealism of the situation, or even the space. You stayed because you love him, and he loved you just the same. It was as simple as that.

#slashers #brahms heelsire x reader

78 notes · View notes

cellophaine · 3 years

Text

Home With You

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3003

Warnings: None.

Author's Note: I figured I should give you guys a break from my smutty contents lol. And I just wanted to write an indulgent fluff piece.

As always, every likes, comments, reblogs, feedbacks and ask submissions are greatly appreciated! My heart goes into cha-cha-cha mode whenever I receive notifications from you guys (it's a happy mode)

Prompt requested by: Anonyomous (love you anon <3)

------

"Matt?!"

You called out as you walked into his apartment; the exhaustion crept into your voice. His name echoed back to you in the empty place, a tell-tale sign of Matt's absence. You huffed out a frustrated sigh as you stepped out of your heels, padding into the living room on bare feet, much to your relief. You dropped your briefcase to the floor with abandon, planting face-first onto the couch, releasing another weary sigh. This was the third night in a row you missed him on his way out, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. At this point, it had become a regular occurrence. You felt like you barely saw him as of late. All you had was the little time in the mornings with Matt's body wrapped around yours in the bed. And it wasn't enough. How could it be?

Your workload as a paralegal at Hogarth, Chao & Benowitz had picked up in the past few months. The pay was more than decent, but it resulted in more time assisting Jeri Hogarth in cases and less time spending with your boyfriend. The immense amount of guilt you felt kept building up, as you knew Matt was not happy about your situation, but he always knew what to say to make you feel better. You had spent time running around New York for researches, staying late at the office at Hogarth's requests.

The days would always end with you worn out to the bones. Matt hated how the job was clawing at you, chipping away a piece of you every day, leaving you stressed out and exhausted. But he was supportive anyway, understanding that it was your choice in the matter. And so, Matt was the only constant, comforting source in your life. He would be there every time you woke up, cuddling and kissing you, making sure that you had all your meals throughout the day, taking care of you when you couldn't do it yourself.

You dragged your enervated self into the shower, lathering yourself up with Matt's shampoo and body, indulging in his scent under the hot water. The clean smell of his soap in the shower steam helped relieve the ache of missing him in your chest. You had slept over his apartment every night. Still, ironic enough, you felt like you drifted away further from him, not of your own volition. Matt was the anchor that kept you close, but how long would it last? How long would he be willing to stay?

You patted yourself dry, walking into his bedroom, the air cool on your exposed skin. You opened the closet, pulling out a sweatshirt of his. You hugged it close to your chest, dropping your head low to inhale the smell of him. You pulled the shirt on along with his too-big sweatpants, tightening the strings at the waistband. You put on his socks, too, tucking them over the hems of the sweats, just like how he always did it. A habit of his that you had absorbed. A bittersweet thought struck you. Despite being in his apartment, often living in his space more than your own, you wore his clothes just to feel closer to him. He was close but never close enough.

You found your way to the couch again, plopping your head on the pillow. You curled into yourself, settling in a comfortable position. You didn't bother with dinner, for you craved something else. You just wanted him here. You wanted to spend every second you could get with him to make up for the time you had missed. You tried to stay up, waiting for him to come back. But the toll of the day pulled on your eyelids, luring you into sleep with much resistance from you.

A weightless feeling woke you from your sleep. You blinked sleepily; your hazy vision revealed Matt, still in his Daredevil suit, the helmet was nowhere in sight. His unseeing eyes radiated the comfort and affection you loved, and you hummed happily at the blessed sight of him. A smile pulled on the corner of Matt's lips as he laid you down on the bed, pulling the soft blanket over you. He brushed your hair off your eyes before leaning in, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead. You smiled sleepily at his gesture, tilting your face up as his warmth left your skin. Your lips met his halfway, and you sighed into the kiss that you craved with the entirety of your being. You needed this, needed him; you yearned for him. Your hand found its way to him; his light stubble tickled your fingertips. You caressed his face, needing to touch, to feel him, as the kiss grew heavy. Finally, he pulled back from you with much reluctance, within your reach, just enough so you could hear his whisper.

"Have you had dinner? I left you your favourite in the fridge."

You pressed your head into the pillow before shaking your head, along with a muffled confirmation of his suspicion. His brows furrowed, and you quickly pulled on his jaw, drawing him closer. You resumed the kiss, and once again, Matt was the one who broke away. Lowering your voice in a soothing tone, you asked in the hope of distracting him.

"Do you have any injuries that needed to be looked at?"

"It was a pretty uneventful night. I know what you're doing, and it's not working."

He responded at once; his head shook slightly in disapproval. He knew you too well. You knew that. But you didn't want to get up while all you wanted was to bask in his familiarity, his warmth again.

"I had a very long day. I just want to go back to sleep, with you. Please?"

Your desperate plea tugged at his heart. His eyes softened as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Alright. But you will have a big breakfast, first thing when you get up."

You bit your lip, brows waggling at him, even though you knew he couldn't see that. A playful, suggestive tone glided into your voice.

"Oh, I definitely would like something 'big' for breakfast."

He let out a small laugh at your terrible tease.

"I'm serious. I was gone for a few hours, and you already neglected yourself."

"I promise. I'll be yours for the entire weekend. Now, can you get your ass in this bed, preferably naked? Pretty please."

He chuckled, standing up to pull his protective gear off. A few rustles later, the mattress dipped as Matt climbed into the bed behind you. He pulled you into his chest, pressing butterfly kisses on your hair. You turned onto your back, giving him easier access to your lips. He eagerly took you on your offer, pulling you in for a soft kiss, so soft that it made you melt into his embrace. He moved to kiss your cheeks, making his way to your eyelids, ending the kiss on your forehead.

"Sleep now, sweetheart. I'll be here when you wake up."

You turned to your side to cuddle into him, curling your hand behind his muscular back. You nuzzled your face into his firm chest, kissing and nibbling sleepily on the naked skin. You fell asleep promptly, grateful for the weekend ahead of you.

Your phone buzzed again and again on Matt's bedside table. You groaned, burrowing your face further into Matt's chest. The faint scent of blood and sweat, of Matt, infiltrated your senses through a daze. However, whoever on the other side stayed persistent; calls came in after calls. Finally, you untangled your limbs from Matt's with frustration, answering the call to hear Hogarth's voice on the other side.

"Where the fuck are you? Why didn't you pick up your damn phone?"

"It's… it's the weekend."

"And? This case won't go away itself. Come in now, or you're fired."

Your ears met with the dead tone from the other line. You fell back onto the warm bed, feeling like you could burst into tears. Pressing your face into the pillow, you muffled a silent scream. Matt propped on his elbow, caressing your back with the other hand.

"Stay here. Quit the job. You deserve so much better than how Hogarth's treating you."

You murmured.

"I can't. Her words have weight. She can really help me with my career. The pay isn't bad either."

"I know, but it's not worth it. I don't like seeing you bend over backward to every of her demand. I can feel your exhaustion every night. I hate seeing you so harrowed and stressed out."

You sighed heavily.

"It's not like I can quit right away. Not until I can secure a better job somewhere else. Rent in Hell's Kitchen is crazy. Until then, I'm stuck with her."

You moved around in the place, talking to Matt as you got ready. When you stepped out of the bathroom into the living room, dressed in your work attire, Matt walked over to where you stood, offering you a cup of tea. You smiled sadly at him, stroking his cheeks. Then, you raised on your tiptoe, kissing him swiftly before picking up your briefcase, making your way to the door.

"I'm sorry, I can't drink the tea. I'm already late. I'll see you later tonight?"

Matt fell into silence; his head turned away from your direction. The mugs of tea in his hands stayed still and abandoned. You felt an awful jerk on your heartstring for leaving him like this. You spoke softly.

"I love you."

One moment of silence, then two. Matt reluctantly spoke, his voice small, barely audible.

"Love you, too."

You gnawed on your bottom lip in defeat, walking out the door. Your heart grew heavier with every step you took, carrying you further away from him.

When the elevator opened, you were working at your desk, just outside of Hogarth's office. You looked up just in time as the infamous P.I of Hell's Kitchen walked past your desk, sparing a glance towards you. You sprang up from your seat, running after her.

"Ms. Jones, I'm sorry, but you can't go in there. Unfortunately, Ms. Hogarth is not available at the moment."

Jones reeked of alcohol, but there was no sign of intoxication. She scoffed.

"I don't care if she's fucking another secretary in there. Step aside. I don't want to hurt you."

You stood in her path, taking your stance. Although preventing Jessica Jones from entering your boss' office wasn't your job, Hogarth made you do it anyway. She made you do many things that went beyond your responsibilities as a paralegal, as she always held her power over your head like an invisible sword, readied to strike at any given time.

Jessica rolled her eyes, sidestepping you. You stuck your foot out in her path, making her boot catch on your heel. She stumbled lightly, whirling around to face you.

"Seriously?"

You swallowed, shrugging.

"A girl's gotta do what she's gotta do."

"Maybe that girl should get another job and stop working for that monster."

Jessica quickened her pace, pushing the door open as you chased after her.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Hogarth, but she …."

"… tired of your shit, Hogarth. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Jessica gritted out the words. Your boss sent a deathly glare at you.

"Leave us."

She flicked a wrist at you, and you closed the door behind you as fast as you could. You went back to your desk, speeding through your mountain of paperwork. About half an hour later, Jessica walked out with a menacing expression on her face, heading straight for the elevator. Jeri walked out about two minutes later, looming over your desk.

"If that happens again, I will personally destroy your little, pathetic career. You hear me?"

You nodded solemnly.

"Have them on my desk before 5."

Hogarth left you alone for the rest of your time there. You were done with the work at a little over 3 PM. You dropped it off, and it was refreshing to see a surprise expression on her face for once instead of the usual scowl you received. Then, you headed straight for Matt's place, couldn't wait to get back to your boyfriend, despite the little not-an-argument you had earlier that day.

He wasn't home when you got there. You sighed, afraid you had messed things up with him. After changing into something more comfortable, you sat down on Matt's kitchen table with your laptop open and a steamy plate of food Matt left you last night. You sat there, your fingers tapping away on your device for what felt like hours until you heard the sound of the door being opened. Matt walked in, dressed in his usual gym clothes with a duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. His face was flushed, his hair stuck out adorably. You stood up, lingering at the chair. You cleared your throat.

"I'm… sorry for this morning. Are we … okay?"

You ached to hug him, to be gathered into his arms, to kiss him. Your bottom lip trembled slightly. You wouldn't know what to do if he said no.

He could sense your uncertainty with every word. His face softened at your vulnerable disposition, his arms opened wide, dropping his cane and bag to the floor with little care.

"Of course we are."

You lunged into his embrace, holding him tight as he picked you up easily, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You found his lips, pouring your heart and soul into the kiss. Eventually, you pulled away from each other as you gasped for air, your foreheads touching.

Matt lowered you down to the ground, still holding you in his arms, his hand caressing your spine in a soothing motion.

"I'm looking up other jobs. Hogarth is … horrible, and I'm always stressed out. You're right. It's not worth it."

"You know … Nelson & Murdock can use a helping hand."

Matt raised his brow at you; an endearing grin pulled at the corner of his lips. You smacked his chest playfully.

"As if I'm not helping you guys in my free time already."

You trailed a finger from the waistband of his sweats, ghosting over his abdomen and chest, ended your way at the pulse on his neck, stroking the delicate arc of his throat. Matt let out a small groan of pleasure.

"That means you already have an in with the firm."

You squinted your eyes at Matt while he feigned innocence.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. I would love to have you there. We still have to discuss this with Foggy, but I think he'd be thrilled."

The earnestness in his voice was unconcealed. Working for Matt and Foggy was a tempting proposal, but you wanted to give it some thought first.

"Let me think about it."

The week started anew, with another visit from Jessica Jones. Only this time, you didn't cease your work pace, even as she walked past your desk. Jessica halted, looking at you skeptically.

"Why are you not stopping me right now? Did Hogarth call of her little guard dog?"

You looked up from your computer screen, giving her a nonchalant shrug.

"Nah, the order is still in effect. But I don't care."

The P.I gave you a nod and headed for Hogarth's office.

Before the workday ended, you were summoned by your fuming boss. Hogarth stood at her desk, a glass of whiskey clutched tight in her hand. She looked upon your entry, sneering at you.

"What part of preventing Jessica Jones from entering my office that you didn't understand? Do you —"

"I understand. I just don't care."

You dropped off the folder on Hogarth's desk. She narrowed her eyes at the manila envelope.

"This is my letter of resignation. I quit. I would say it was an honour to work with you, but that would be a lie."

You left the office that day feeling so much better than you had felt in months. There was a spring in your steps as you climbed the stairs to Matt's place. You walked in as an aroma of mouthwatering food being cooked engulfed you, welcoming you home. Matt was in the kitchen, facing the stove. You walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. Matt lifted an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in to kiss your forehead. Then, he turned off the stove, fully angled his body to you and gave you a warm embrace.

"So you did it? How did she take it?"

"She was furious, Matt. She threatened to make sure I could never practice law ever again. Over and over. But I'm not worried. She can threaten me however she wants. I know the law."

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. You're better off without her. And if she dared to do that, you wouldn't be alone. Foggy and I will have your back."

You hugged him even tighter, pressing your ear to the steady rhythm of his heart. You stayed like that for a moment as the sound of Hell's Kitchen played in the background. Matt buried his nose into your hair, peppering your face with kisses. Then, at last, he spoke up.

"So, have you given more thoughts on working for Nelson & Murdock?"

You made a tsk sound, tapping a finger against your lips, pretending to be in deep thoughts.

"I don't know. Wouldn't it make quite a scandal since I'm dating one of the bosses?"

"Considering the other boss already knows about the arrangement, no one else has to. We can keep a secret -"

Matt dipped his head; his lips brushed over the curve of your ear purposefully. The mere contact sent a shiver down your spine in anticipation. Finally, he released the last part of his sentence; his voice dropped dangerously low, dripped in an alluring invitation.

"- and have fun with it."

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x you #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock au #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fluff #marvel imagine #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil au #daredevil imagine #daredevil fanfiction #cellophaine 100 followers event #no use of y/n

347 notes · View notes

favoniuscodex · 3 years

Text

ataraxia. - ch. 4 [ diluc x reader ]

ch. 4 - adjustment pairing: diluc x gn!reader warnings: mention of injuries, mentions of murder, mentions of familial passing. not beta read. words: ~2.2k words fic masterlist [ prev ] - [ next ]

chapter summary: you're not used to company and diluc is awkward. but hey, things are beginning to become normal, right?

a/n: mmm. slow burn. begrudging allies. not much happens in this chapter, but i promise things will speed up soon. :)

for the four days diluc is bedridden, two of which he is able to actually walk around miniscule amounts, the rocking chair in the guest room becomes your dining chair and your lap serves as your dinner table. sure, it's slightly messy, but even diluc, who you can tell likely isn't the one for conversation normally, enjoys your company. despite the walls he puts up, he is still able to hold a conversation.

however, for all the information you reveal about yourself, you learn little about diluc. when you talk about your farm, he's more knowledgeable than the average townsperson, which leads you to believe he grew up near agriculture. however, his formal method of speaking steers you away from such conclusions, unable to pinpoint where exactly the overlap between a farming background and a background of what seems to be an elite overlap.

you are mostly the one talking to him. it doesn't take a genius to realize that he isn't a fan of small talk and would rather just sit in silence, but you wish to know exactly who is taking up the spare bedroom in your house. like a hardboiled egg, diluc fails to crack upon the impact of your words. instead, he expertly maneuvers his way out of any question you might throw at him.

if only he could have maneuvered his way out of the fatui, you think bitterly, irritated with the entire situation at hand. if diluc hadn't gotten himself injured, then you wouldn't be the one dealing with a guilty conscience if you threw him out. curse your parents for instilling basic human morals in you.

however, apart from dropping off books, accompanying him to the bathroom (where you wait outside respectfully, of course), and serving him breakfast and lunch, you don't interact with diluc very often. you find that he's easy to ignore.

once he starts walking, of course, that's a different story. the redhead is tall and his hair is a brilliant vermillion. it sticks out against the soft green grasses like a sore thumb and shines in the light. even in the comfort of your cottage, it stands out against the dull decor, fading paint, and worn furniture. diluc's crutches click against the floor with each step he takes and his presence is no longer quiet.

he's the type to always stay moving, even if his body says otherwise.

once he's comfortable with walking again, diluc interrupts you as you start making dinner. despite sharing the same house, the two of you scarcely speak with nor acknowledge each other out of meal times, so the sudden noise of his voice causes you to jolt in shock.

"may i help you cook?" diluc asks. after you get over your initial scare, you realize that his words didn't sound like much of a question. the words are more of a formality than anything and you realize that he will not let this go until you say yes. which, of course, you don't, because you're not allowed to let some stranger come into your house and order you around, even if it would ease your workload.

"go sit back down," you urge and you hear diluc sigh as he realizes that you aren't going to budge either. despite your order, he lingers, the corners of his lips twitching with annoyance. of course he's not going to budge either, you think. asshole.

so, in response to his stubbornness, you decide to throw it back in his face.

"are you saying my cooking is bad?" you challenge and diluc's eyes widen as his uninjured foot shifts backwards slightly. despite his balancing act on crutches, diluc still manages to take a step back at your challenging tone.

"what? no. i'm not," diluc backtracks his words and you feel slightly bad at the way he sounds on edge, but you weren't about to have this borderline stranger interrupt your cooking when he needed to rest.

"then go sit down." you say and diluc, surprisingly, folds and walks over to the dining table where he once lay just a few days ago. you glance over as he sits down in a chair and he stares at you, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in the chair. you pause your cooking and stare back. unlike usual, diluc is the one to break the silence.

"why did you save me?" diluc's question is abrupt. you swirl the wooden spoon in the pot in front of you while attempting to think of an answer.

"dead bodies are a pain to deal with," you respond as you take the spoon out of the dish and tap it on the side to remove any excess liquid. diluc lets out a soft huff of amusement at your words, yet that fails to ease the current resentment you hold towards him.

"is that all?" diluc asks. you look over at him once more with raised eyebrows as you drop the spoon into the small pile of the day's dirty dishes.

"do you not believe me?" you say, yet your voice lacks the embittered tone from earlier. you can't blame diluc if he doesn't. you barely believe anything he says to begin with.

"i am just curious as to your answer," diluc says. you can tell it pains him to watch you prepare dinner without any assistance from him whatsoever, yet he can leave his heroics for another time.

if you were being honest, you didn't quite know the answer to his question yourself. sure, you could pull a half-baked lie out of your ass about how you could 'never let someone suffer' if you saw them in the condition he had been in. it would be honorable to have such notions, but you had never been the type to play hero. after life had handed you such an awful fate, you could take what semblance of normalcy you could get.

and yet, you had thrown it all away on a rainy day to save a man you had never interacted with before. you had thrown away your safety. if the fatui were to find the two of you, your throat would be slashed and your body would never be found. you would die not the death of a hero, but the death of a fool.

you look back down at the pot of food in front of you, watching as the soup boils and bubbles within. why had you saved diluc? on that fateful stormy day, why had your roughened heart softened to let in a man who seemed to be more trouble than he was worth? you weren't honorable. you would never be. you couldn't be.

the timer you had set earlier, mechanically ticking away next to the heated pot, dings, signaling the dish's completion. it snaps you out of your thoughts and you blink as you remember where you are. wordlessly, you extinguish the fire that fuels the stove and take a step back, allowing the soup to cool.

"when i find the answer," you say slowly, voice far softer. "i'll be sure to let you know."

---

the air has a light breeze to it, making the typical morning chill just a bit fiercer than usual. you slip on a coat for that reason and depart your bedroom. you glance at the closed door to the spare room. by now, it was no longer an extra bedroom. rather, diluc would be its sole occupier for the next several months.

today marks ten days since diluc made his rather unceremonious arrival to your doorstep. it also marks the first day since the two of you came to an agreement about diluc's living situation for the foreseeable future. you had agreed, like a damned fool, to let him stay for the next several months. worst of all, you had offered.

the conversation had been short. the redhead had offered to pay rent. you declined. the redhead then insisted on paying rent. you declined once more, albeit more harshly. the two of you came to a begrudging agreement. you wanted nothing in return, while diluc wanted to reward your hospitality. therefore, you two had decided that diluc would pay for groceries

you provided him with the ideal hiding place. a worn down little farm was no fit for a man of his status. you still weren't sure who he was, but claymore wielders weren't exactly those born into unaffluent conditions. it was a peculiar choice of weapon, therefore typically only used by those who could afford both the training and the heaping chunks of metal that claymores required.

plus, his manners were impeccable, aside from his insistence on trying to repay his weird debt to you or whatever he told himself. to you, diluc owed you nothing. as long as you made it out of this situation alive, you wouldn't care. and if you didn't live? who cares? you would be dead.

it's not like there was anyone to cry over the death of the little isolated farmer in the fields of fontaine.

you snap out of your daze as diluc's door creeps open. he wears the only spare outfit you had that would fit him. an old, blank white shirt. he wears the pants he arrived in, albeit with the leg cropped severely on one side to accommodate for his cast that now traverses the entire expanse of his leg.

it's rather ugly, if you say so yourself.

"i'll pick you up clothes the next time i head to the market," you blurt and diluc stares at you, still half-asleep and struggling to comprehend your words.

"good morning to you too," he responds, completely unenthused. you stare unapologetically at him. you probably should have greeted him, yet it's too late to backtrack.

"there's food in the pantry," you tell him, before walking to the hall closet and taking out your worn work boots. "i will be off the premises today. if somebody finds you, you're the only one that lives here. got it?"

diluc nods and you walk down the hall, entering the kitchen once more. you sit down at the dining table, perched sideways on one of its chairs and shimmy on your shoes. diluc follows after you and hovers, watching from the hallway entrance as you get ready to leave.

diluc parts his lips as if he wants to say something, yet can't figure out the words. you let out a sigh as you decide to indulge him, even though you don't really care about whatever he has to say to you. if it was important, he would say it.

"what?" you ask, standing up and smoothing out the fabric of your pants.

"could i request something additional from the grocery?" diluc asks and you look at him blankly.

"you're the one paying for the groceries," you remind him. "so, uh, yeah."

diluc glances away from you, cheeks flushing slightly. "i would appreciate if you could pick up some grape juice."

"grape juice?" you ask, slowly. an odd request from a man who is ripped to the high heavens, yet you have realized that diluc himself is an odd man. stoic and reserved, yet odd nonetheless. "sure. got a brand preference?"

diluc's vermillion gaze snaps upward to meet your eyes, who look at him with absolute disinterest. somehow, this seems to calm his slight embarrassment at asking for such a childish beverage.

"dawn winery, if they sell it," diluc responds before glancing over once more.

"dawn winery?" you echo and diluc looks slightly nervous at your interrogation. "isn't that like... super expensive?"

"oh," diluc responds. "i can afford it."

you stare at him. maybe you should have charged him rent if he can afford that overpriced, not very good grape juice.

"got it," you confirm, still slightly weirded out by his awkwardness over the whole thing. "anything else?" you shuffle over to the doorway and glance back over your shoulder, patting your coat pocket to ensure the bag of mora was tucked in your pocket.

diluc clears his throat.

"return safe, okay?" his order is softly spoken. you nod.

"i'll try," you say and slip out of the door. it was just a simple grocery run. if anything was going to threaten your safety, it would be staying in the house with diluc. after all, the fatui couldn't accuse you of anything if you weren't caught in the house alongside him.

for a man who had multiple broken bones, diluc was rather worried about people that weren't him. you didn't quite understand it but, despite the way his righteousness and self-sacrificial attitude bothered you, you found yourself admiring it. such a personality would result in statues being made of him, should his heroism actually be vocalized.

yet somehow, the honorable prince that diluc was a few steps (and non-broken bones) was somehow relying on the humble farmer for survival. you only hope it won't bite him in the ass.

but, most of all, you only hope that you won't grow attached.

tag list (send an ask to be added!): @quixoticmirror @fishyfish-y @just-some-stars @karlitaburrito @lotsoffandomstoimagine @zhowongli @yakus-yakult @beanst0ck @nonniechan

#diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc #genshin impact #//ataraxia #axia's writing

382 notes · View notes