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wovenstarlight · 1 year

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(on ao3)

Before Yoohyun even opens his door, Junhwan’s raising his head, ears flicking. Yoohyun eyes him; while he can’t hear anything himself, Junhwan’s ears are still sharper, so he trusts him—but whatever emotion his daemon is feeling, it isn’t alarm. If anything, it reads as pleased surprise.

Yoohyun opens the door to hyung’s laughter and understands immediately. His and Junhwan’s footsteps are cat-light as they enter their house, padding silently through the living room towards… Is the sound coming from the Horned Flame Lion’s enclosure? Yoohyun’s told hyung not to go in there unsupervised for a while! …But hearing him still laughing like that, he can’t be too angry. Not when the little beast has apparently managed to achieve what he hasn’t in the last two days. A curl of jealousy flares inside him, Junhwan’s lips pulling back to bare his teeth in the start of a growl as he presumably arrives at the same thought, but then there’s a soft, breathless giggle-snort from noona and that-

That makes them both very quiet.

They slow down as they get closer. Hyung isn’t immediately visible through the glass walls of the enclosure; Yoohyun dares to get closer, keeping to the side with some of the thicker foliage, and peers through the gaps.

Ah. There. Hyung’s lying on his side on the soft grass, the Lion perched on his hip and staring wide-eyed at… Noona, who’s up on a tree?

Yoohyun doesn’t understand. What’s so funny? He squints at the Lion, who’s doing… a grand total of precisely nothing. It’s just staring at noona and swishing its tail back and forth, the tip occasionally flicking over hyung’s side. Is it tickling him? But hyung isn’t ticklish, as far as he remembers… And even if he was, what’s noona laughing about? She’s halfway up one of the trees—Yoohyun takes a heart-stopping second to study it and make sure it’s not a Gillotinae, even though he knows objectively that she wouldn’t be stupid enough to get close to those—and peering down at hyung, wearing a silly smile.

She shifts as he watches, turning to jump across to another tree close by and scrambling up its branches. “Reckless,” Junhwan mumbles almost inaudibly, and Yoohyun agrees. There’s something almost childish about the fumbling, uncontrolled way in which she climbs. Like she’s not used to all her limbs being where they are. He remembers it from back when she’d first settled—for two weeks after that, Yoohyun and Junhwan had watched her jump off high spots and panic because she’d forgotten she couldn’t fly. (She was a cat, she’d always landed on her feet, of course, but that hadn’t stopped Junhwan from moving to catch her. Just in case.)

She’s climbing really high right now, actually. Yoohyun frowns as she clambers to the top of one particularly tall tree. Shouldn’t that be stretching their distance limit? Even if hyung’s Awakened now? She barely seems to notice, and the same goes for hyung, who continues lying there, watching her affectionately. Noona crawls out to the edge of the branch closest to hyung, peeks down at him, then hunches down and—

Her feet lift off the branch. Yoohyun and Junhwan lunge for the door. There’s rustling of cloth and grass and fur and creaking hinges and then—

And then, Yoohyun and Junhwan are staring at hyung lying on his back on the ground, noona pillowed safely on his chest and the Lion on his knees, all three of them staring back.

“Yoohyun-ah?” Hyung sits up, noona hopping up to his shoulders and winding around his neck. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Yoohyun blurts. It was only in case— “Nothing. Are you okay?”

“I… Yes…?”

“Okay.” Yoohyun nods quickly. “Good.”

There’s words at the tip of his tongue—be careful, didn’t that pull hurt, why are you in here when I said—but he never gets to say any of them, because noona narrows her eyes at Junhwan and says, “Well, in that case, let them talk, I-wanna-play-tag-you’re-it!” and flings herself at him.

Junhwan bolts entirely on 17 years’ worth of reflex, and noona chases him in circles around them, yowling when he goes too far from hyung for her to follow. Hyung snorts when Junhwan sheepishly approaches them again, only to dance away from noona’s batting paws.

“Oh, that’s no fair,” hyung wheezes, and coaxes the Lion off his knees before bracing his hands against the ground, pausing for a moment (…?), then rolling to his feet—no, foot, all his weight is on his left leg (??) for a split second before he relaxes, balanced once more. “Let’s give her a fighting chance, huh?” he says, and Yoohyun's eyes belatedly flick up from his leg to his face when he starts jogging after Junhwan. Noona gleefully gives chase with the new extension to her leash, and Yoohyun’s forced after them as they cross to the far end of the enclosure.

There’s a pleased smile on hyung’s face as he goes, childish glee in noona’s cackling as she runs, and Yoohyun watches them for a moment before deciding to drop it. He can bring up the question another time; it hardly seems fair to ruin their fun now.

He can't stop himself from smiling as he follows.

#star.txt #my writing #my sranks #sranks daemons #han yoojin #han yoohyun #dilemma: do i tag daemon names when they're inextricably attached to their humans and im tagging for those already.#anyway! i had the Leg Agonies yesterday and was possessed to write this #also had someone leave wailing and weeping and screaming and crying tags on the last daemons post so i was like. well i owe you reparations #so here! siblings play tag now that two of them can run again :D #first pass at this was shj pov but i realized hyj would never be so relaxed in front of shj unless this was set in 250s-ish at the earliest #and again. i owed you guys han bros getting sillay #....actually... was this sillay enough.... i fear i need to write more fluff #but yes. please join me and hyj in giggling at the sight of big scary tiger fleeing for his fucking life from tiny cat two handfuls big #i think haeun gets mean with tag. because junhwan is very hard to catch but if he tries to make it easy for her she gets mad #so he goes at full capacity and she keeps up by going crazy going stupid as a chaser #girl probably almost broke a tv once in trying to catch him #but yeah. she's very happy to be able to play with her baby brother again :-)#also i wont lie i find it kind of funny how its like #hyh: do my elder siblings hate me even now that we've reconciled... it'd make sense...#hjh: damn they hate me fr </3 [only not sobbing his eyes out because he is a tiger]#hyj: :-) wow it sure is nice to be back with my baby brothers / hhe: I WILL LOVE THEM AND SHOWER THEM IN KISSES AND PLAY WITH THEM AN #hyj: hey can you dial it back a little you're making us look desperate. / hhe: YEAH CUZ WE ARE? THEY DIED IN OUR ARMS / hyj: ok. fair. but

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totalswag · 2 months

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worthy of love — RAFE CAMERON

authors note something short and cute for you guys. also, rafe deserves to be treated with the love that he desires. he just wants to be understood yall.

paring mean!rafe x soft!reader

summary soft!reader wants to show mean!rafe that he's worthy of love but he pushes reader away until one day he finally knows what love truly feel like.

warnings neglect, feeling unworthy of love, ward being a shitty father, and a lovely happy ending.

Rafe Cameron believed he would never be capable of love in his life.

Raised in a family where love was a rare commodity, Rafe grew up believing that affection, vulnerability was a weakness that should be avoided at all costs. But little did he know that someone was about to turn his life upside down and teach him the true meaning of love.

You.

His father, Ward Cameron, is part of the reason Rafe is the way he is. Ward tells him to man up rather than express his feelings and be vulnerable. Overall, his father has never treated him with the proper care compared to his two younger sisters. This sent Rafe into a downward spiral, leading to a darker path in his life. Rafe held his guard up.

You entered his world like a breath of fresh air, bringing with you a warmth and tenderness he had never felt before. Rafe first rejected your presence, pushing you away with his harsh remarks and cold demeanor. But you saw through his strong facade, understanding the agony and vulnerability that lay underneath the surface.

"Why do you treat me like this? I’m not someone that deserves to be loved."

Rafe was initially perplexed as to why, of all the people on the island, someone as kind and gentle as you would want to be with him.

One of the many things Rafe would tell you when you tried to show him that he’s capable of being loved by someone, he would shut you out immediately when you tried showing him.

People said you were crazy for pursuing Rafe Cameron. His reputation in Kildare is immense. You just chose to ignore what other people had to say because you felt Rafe deserved love.

The first time you heard those words come out of his mouth, your heart broke into a million pieces. Behind all of the roughness, coldness, and unpredictable behavior, he is someone who wants to be loved.

Rafe continued to push you away for the longest time, hoping you would get the hint. Finally, giving in after protracted arguments. For far too long, he had kept his guard up to protect himself. He did not want to feel weak for expressing himself. Rafe noticed how long you stayed by his side.

You gradually began to break down the walls Rafe had placed around his heart. You showed patience and understanding by refusing to give up on him, even when he tried to push you away. Rafe became increasingly drawn to you as time passed, yearning for the love and acceptance that had always escaped him.

Rafe started to trust again as your relationship deepened. He progressively exposed a gentler, softer side of himself, something he had never seen before. He realized there are individuals out there, like you, who care passionately and will be by his side through thick and thin.

All he ever wanted was to feel fully understood and seen. You came into his life when he was in the deepest pain and saved him. You showed he’s worthy of love, compassion, gratitude, and vulnerability are truly like, and there is nothing wrong with it. He transformed into a very different person than anyone could have predicted.

"You're the most amazing person I've ever laid eyes on, baby," Rafe said with a lovely smile on his lips, sliding the front strand of your hair behind your ear as you moved your body closer to his and closed your eyes.

“I love you so much rafey” kissing his bare shoulder a few times.

“And I love you more,”

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loviatarsluv · 3 months

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The Last Vampire Spawn

inspired by this post by @fangsandfeels as well as this gorgeous art by @ria-neearts above that may or may not have made me sob at work when I saw it :)

also inspired by my dire need to hug this poor baby in this scene in particular and give him literally any sort of comfort because god knows he needs it 😭

Astarion x gn!tav / Astarion x gn!reader

SPOILER WARNING! act 3 and the climax of Astarion’s quest line!

CW: violence, death, anguish, angst, blood, gore

rating: sfw (still mature for the listed content above)

in summary: Astarion finally kills cazador and bro needs a hug and a therapist fr

this one is very short I don’t even know the word count lol

Astarion’s guttural and enraged wails echo against the stone walls of the crypt, nearly drowning the sounds of Cazador’s failed attempts at gurgled shrieks as the dagger pierced his body over, and over, and over.

You stand at the bottom of the stairs and watch, gripping onto Halsin as he wraps a comforting arm around your shoulders as the three of you watch in horror while Astarion lets out two hundred years worth of pain, and agony, and hatred into every single thrust of the blade through his old master’s body. Hot tears sting your face as you watch on, tension filling the gaps of silence between your companions.

The vampire lord’s body falls limp before Astarion, bloodied and covered in viscera, lifeless. He takes a deep breath, falling back on his feet as his knees dig into the bloody marble floor. Sobs wrack through his body as he looks down with disdain at the corpse before him.

You exchange a glance with Halsin, a deeply unsettled and concerned face set into his features that wasn’t typical for his usually calm and collected persona. He looks between you and Astarion, and with just a glance, you realize what he’s thinking.

Before you can stop yourself, you run to Astarion, kneeling beside him. He’s too distraught to notice your presence beside him, so you place a gentle hand on his shoulder. He jolts slightly at your touch, then turns his face - his bloody, tear stained, and ever beautiful face to you, crimson eyes filled with a million emotions you couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

“I’m here, my love. It’s over. You did it,” you whisper, voice trembling and breaking.

His eyes scan your face frantically, chest rising and falling rapidly and anxiously, his breathing ragged and uneven - he looks at you, and you look back at him, as you try to force a reassuring smile through your own tears.

His face twists into an even deeper scowl as his eyes dart between you and the ruined corpse crumpled on the floor next to you.

“His death isn’t enough. It’ll never be enough.” He growls, his fists clenching onto the fabric of his breeches.

You stare at him, speechless. You know that no words could suffice or possibly begin to dull the pain that was evident in his face.

“I suffered through two hundred years of pain and starvation and torture… and all I’ve gotten from it all was being the one to see the light leave that monster’s eyes,” he whispers angrily, tears still rapidly streaming down his blood covered cheeks. “It isn’t fair.”

You tentatively move your face so that your eyes meet his once again, nearly afraid of what you’ll see when you do.

His eyes scan your face for a moment, and he presses his lips into a thin line.

“And where were you twenty years ago? A hundred? Where were you when I was new? When I was one of those innocent young men you’d come to the rescue for?” He barks, his voice booming and bouncing off of the stone walls and into your ears making your head pound.

“Astarion—“

“How dare you! How dare you come to me now… when I’m this!” He wails, his voice cracking on the last word, his shoulders slumping.

Hot tears return to your waterline and pour over your lashes as you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into your chest and cradling his head.

He presses his face into your chest, eventually wrapping his arms around your waist and melting into you, causing you to fall backwards slightly as he practically lays on your body, sobbing into your gear. He grips the back of your shirt as if his life depended on it, even though for the first time in what felt like a while, perhaps it didn’t.

Because despite the roiling dread in his gut - he was free. At long last.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, gently rubbing circles into his bare back as you let him cry. Sob. Scream. For as long as he needs.

The others slowly migrate closer, but not too close, not wanting to interrupt or intrude, just silently exchanging sympathetic glances, and a flash of pride across Karlach’s face as she looks on.

After what felt like hours, Astarion goes quiet, his breath slowly evening out. He sniffles, then slowly lifts his head so his eyes meet yours.

You place a hand on his cheek, wiping a tear away with your thumb. He closes his eyes, savoring your touch, and sighs.

“He’s gone,” he whispers, almost too quietly for you to hear. As if he were mostly whispering it to himself. “He’s really gone…”

You nod, rubbing small circles on his cheek with your thumb. “I am so, so proud of you.”

He offers you a small, weak smile, that you return in kind. You place a kiss to the spot between his furrowed brows, his tense body relaxing only slightly into your touch. He still feels coiled up like a serpent ready to strike, still heavily on guard despite Cazador and his minions being long gone. You presume it will be a long while before he truly relaxes, but you feel more than willing and ready to be there every step of the way.

#this one had a lil kick to it!#idk why im just very emo about him lately #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 #my fics #one shot #short fic

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glossgojo · 10 months

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seven days a week (but not really)

zb1 hyungs (01 and older) x fem!reader smut | ~1k each

jiwoong, zhang hao, hanbin only bc this took me a while (i got carried away with hanbin’s)

with your boyfriend debuting, he’s been busier than usual but he makes time for you as much as he can, or your bf is busy but not busy enough to stop loving you

18+ MDNI CW: AFAB reader, eating out, fingering, p in v sex, no protection (wrap it up!!), riding, creampie, size kink, reader is shorter, choking in hanbin’s, reader wears a skirt in hao and hanbin’s, manhandling, use of pet names (pretty girl, baby, love, etc), slightly mean dom jiwoong, pussy drunk and kinda mean dom hao, rough sex with dom hanbin, oh also everyone got big …..

jiwoong

your boyfriend comes home from one of his schedules late as always. you’d made dinner for him, reheated it twice and eventually gave up on waiting, falling asleep in the living room with some reality show droning in the background. jiwoong finds you in your shared apartment looking peacefully asleep, he would’ve thought the sight was adorable if not for how his shirt swallowed your frame and rode up your plush thighs in your slumber. your pink underwear peaked out from the hem and jiwoong reminded himself that you’d visited him at music bank just yesterday, both of you disappearing right after his performance and coming back disheveled, but he was already getting worked up. he groaned as you stirred and his shirt rode up revealing your tummy, he wanted nothing more than to press kisses to it trailing them up your body until-

no he had to let you rest, he’d eat the dinner you made and then carry you to bed, you deserved some rest after waiting up for him. jiwoong dutifully changed his clothes into his sleepwear, just a pair of boxers, and then ate the food you made. although he’d been quiet you woke up from the sound of the microwave beeping, you grumbled as you opened your eyes to see your boyfriend sitting at the dinner table. lazily, you made your way over to him, jiwoong pushing back in his chair as you wordlessly sat on his lap. you sat sideways, graciously allowing him to reach his plate still. he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as you squinted and adjusted to the dim light of the kitchen. “my pretty girl’s cooking is the best.” jiwoong must have been hungrier than he realized because he was finishing the meal in record time. now he could give you all his attention.

“hmm you like it?” you rested your head against the hard plane of his chest, you’d only realized then that he was shirtless.

“so good baby, sorry i made you wait.” he pressed another kiss to your head, breathing in your strawberry shampoo and the smell that was just so deliciously you.

“it’s okay, i don’t mind, makes me feel like a housewife.” you giggled at your own words, not thinking too deeply before saying them but god did they affect jiwoong. images of you with his kids running around all day flashed in front of his eyes and he sighed out in agony, he was really trying to compose himself, but you made it so hard. you felt him harden underneath you, making a small noise of confusion as you sat up in his lap. jiwoong winced at the movement, you weren’t helping in the slightest. you were looking at him, he could feel your pretty wide eyes staring at him expectantly.

“you need rest.” he said sighing as he finally met your gaze, forever a brat you shook your head no and you noticed his lips twitch as if he was holding back a laugh.

“i need you.” jiwoong was patient, his members said he was so mature and calm but not when it came to you, his resolve crumbled just from a look. he pulled you up with him as he got off the chair, your legs going around his hips as he sat down on the sofa where you’d slept.

“show me.” he leaned back, eyeing you up and down on his lap and you flushed at his gaze, you knew what he wanted and your fingers shook as they dipped underneath the edge of his shirt and pulled your underwear down and then off your legs. jiwoong watched your every move like a predator, even if he was letting you use him he was still the one in control and the thought alone made your blood rush south. he crossed his arms, intent on just watching and you pouted as you pulled his hard length free from his boxers. it was red and throbbing in your hand, always so thick and heavy in your hold and you gulped down as you leaned up on your knees to fit him in. the only time he did move was so he could lift his shirt up and see your pretty little cunt swallow his length. you breathed out slowly, your cheeks puffing out and you scrunched your nose in concentration as you slowly lowered down. “relax doll, you’re clenching me so hard i won’t last long.” you nodded as you finally bottomed out, letting yourself adjust and easing up your grip as you did so. you put your hands on jiwoong’s broad shoulders as you began to rise up and down and take his length as well as you could. it never felt as good as when he fucked you, he knew just how to make you come again and again and the feeling of building pleasure was never like how he made you feel. you needed him, not his stupid perfect dick. and jiwoong could tell, from how pouty your lips had gotten and how you didn’t bounce with as much fervor as when he touched you. he was just waiting for you to admit it. “jiwoongggg” you whined out his name, lighting hitting his chest and he huffed out a laugh, gripping your waist before he pounded up into you. you moaned at the feeling, he was relentless bouncing you on his length so hard and fast you were squirming in his hold. your slick combined with his was coating your thighs and no doubt his balls, you whined his name insisting that you were close and he held you close as he angled himself to fuck you deeper, hitting the spot that made your toes curl and your eyes roll back in your head. you cried out his name as your orgasm hit you like a truck, your legs shaking as jiwoong continued to use your cunt. he came soon after, the way you clenched around him making him see stars as he filled you up. “my pretty little cunt, always so perfect for me.” he murmured into your shoulder, his hot come leaking out of you making you whine and jiwoong laughed at your actions promising you he’d fill you up properly tomorrow.

zhang hao

his pretty baby, he’d do anything to run to you right now but instead he was stuck in a meeting at the company. just one more hour and he’d be free. the trouble was you had sent a picture of your outfit this morning and all hao could see when he closed his eyes, when his mind drifted or when he didn’t try his damn best to focus on something else was your bare thighs in a mini skirt and knee high socks. the small glimpse of skin was enough to drive him crazy. it had been days since he last saw you in person so it was safe to say he was feeling desperate to be near you. the manager droned on about the upcoming week’s schedule, yes it was important but it wasn’t anything he didn’t already know. all he could think about was being between your legs, heat traveling south and he sighed out in relief that he chose to wear an oversized shirt today. hanbin looked over at him suspiciously, noticing his pink ears and glazed eyes, god hao was so obvious sometimes it was a wonder the company hadn’t found out about you.

“alright that’s it.” finally after what felt like years the meeting had come to end and zhang hao didn’t even try to hide how quickly left the room, saying he needed to call his family privately. of course the members knew what really was happening since they’d greeted his parents on the phone just this morning but they withheld their remarks as they watched their hyung hightail it out of the room. he made it to your place pretty quickly, he’d made sure you were close to the company, just like their dorm, when you moved to a new place and of course one pout from your boyfriend was enough to convince you to move closer.

he’d shot you a text before the meeting, and you’d been waiting for him at your place. you usually worked from home and always made time for him when he popped by during his busy days. sure enough when you heard the front door open you quickly closed your work computer and practically skipped to the door to greet your boyfriend. hao grinned at you as he looked you up and down, watching you outstretch your arms to him, your crop top rode up and another sliver of your skin drove him crazy. yeah the real thing was much more maddening then that picture, hao decided. he embraced you pressing kisses to every inch of skin he could reach as you burrowed your face into his shoulder. he loved how much shorter you were than him, loved being able to cover you completely and especially the way he could feel your smile press into his skin.

“missed you so much today baby. you look so pretty,” you whispered a thanks to his skin, flushing as you met his adoring gaze.

“i missed you too hao, always do.” you kissed him, losing yourself in his soft lips and how he deepened the kiss so naturally, drawing your sweet breath as a gasp as he teasingly bit your lip. he pulled back after he was satisfied in getting you riled up, your small hands now scrunching his shirt material. hao watched as a string of saliva connected his lips to yours and it didn’t do anything to help his growing problem. your flushed cheeks and swollen lips made him dizzy.

“baby can i eat you out?” you flinched in shock and looked away from his gaze, feeling hot already and hao’s innocent seeming eyes were burning you up. you nodded shyly and he grinned like he hadn’t just asked something obscene, kissing you again and lifting you over his shoulder in a swift motion. hao laid you down carefully on your bed, making sure you were comfortable on the bed, prop your head up on a couple pillows like you liked so you could watch him, or at least struggle to watch him.

he laid down on the bed the plush of your thighs bulging out the top of your socks, his fingers tracing the skin and his cock throbbing in his pants just from how you shivered at the feather light touch. hao huffed out a laugh as he lightly shifted your skirt up, being pleasantly surprised at the lack of underwear. “sweetheart, were you waiting for me to find you like this?”

“n-no hao, it’s just comfier.” you weren’t very convincing you were sure, you had sent that picture to him with one objective and one only.

“hmm, is that right? even when you’re practically dripping?” he pried your legs open wider, watching the light catch on your slick cunt. you whined, covering your face with your hands and he laughed before pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. he continued teasing you like that making you whine as his strong arms kept you spread open for him. your heady scent and sweet noises were making him lose control slowly and so finally he let you win, pressing a prompt kiss to your clit and earning a hiss.

“so sweet,” he hummed mostly to himself as he pressed another kiss to your slick hole and you squirmed. the sweetness leaving him the next second as he pulled by the hips closer to his face, looping one leg over his shoulder as he licked a stripe down to your leaking hole. you followed his silent instruction your shaky leg moving to his shoulder as he dipped his tongue into you and drank you up. you cried out his name, already feeling on the edge of an orgasm. his sharp nose ground against your clit as he pulled more ichor from you and swallowed it down in one go, withdrawing when you felt close and moving to suck your clit as his pretty fingers circled your hole. without warning he dipped two fingers into you and you arched your back as he masterfully found the fleshy spot that made you shake. in seconds you were coming undone from his fingers, your wetness would no doubt stain your white skirt if not for zhang hao making sure to clean you up. you whined as he overstimulated you but he didn’t see like he would stop any time soon, you begged for him to stop.

“h-hao s’too much.”

“taste too good baby, just one more come on.” and with such pretty words hao was able to pull not one but two more orgasms from you. every time he made to clean you up, insisting that you were the sweetest taste in the world.

hanbin

you’d been at the dorm with hanbin, getting there before the other members came back from a schedule without him. he’d done a solo shoot for a magazine and you couldn’t keep your hands or desperate eyes off of him when you saw him all dolled up. now you were whining for him to hurry up with his shower, pawing at the bathroom door like a puppy. hanbin laughed at your desperation, he’d only left you for a few minutes and you were already whining for him. he was no better really but the makeup on his skin had began to bug him and although he liked staining your lips with his, he’d rather not see the reaction on his member’s faces at what you’d been doing. they’d be back pretty soon, he was doing his damn best to keep things tame between you two. when he heard his name leave your lips in a soft whine, his resolve shattered.

“baby the door’s been open, come join me.” you had no intention to join him in showering, instead just opening the door and propping yourself up on the sink counter. you could see his frame through the frosted shower screen, it did nothing to hide how unbelievably perfect your boyfriend was. you could make out his tattoos, his dripping wet hair, his strong arms and muscular build and worse of all his annoyingly pretty cock. despite the warmth rising to your cheeks and quickly moving south, you kept staring.

“i’m started to get creeped out baby.” hanbin ducked his head out, a smirk on his face at how unabashedly you’d been admiring him. you just pouted.

“not my fault you’re so hot.” he laughed before finishing up his shower, turning the water off and reaching for a towel. you made yourself useful, bringing it to him and motioning for him to lean down so you could towel his hair dry. he had to lean down quite a bit due to your height difference and now all he could see was your bare legs under your skirt, god you made it so difficult for him to be a good hyung. you dried his hair gently, not any bit as rough or careless as hanbin usually was and when you felt satisfied you handed him the towel and tilted his chin up, combing your fingers through it and styling it as you pleaded. hanbin watched your lips pout in concentration and your eyelashes bat as you worked under his scrutiny. he found you so adorable and more and more irresistible the closer he got to you. “there, my handsome binnie.” you loved his natural bare face and hair and hanbin’s eyes glazed over at the compliment and the way you said his nickname. standing up tall, he couldn’t help himself as he wrapped the towel around his waist and brought his hands up to cup your face and bring your lips to his. you gasped into the kiss, spreading your soft warm hands on his still damp broad chest, standing on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss and hanbin sighed contently into your lips. you were always so sweet and so soft and warm under his touch. anything he gave you you’d react so well he couldn’t help but tease you. you swung your arms around his neck pulling his hard chest against you and hanbin was still very aware that the only thing keeping him decent was a wryly bound towel. despite that he couldn’t help but mold your lips to his, sucking and biting at the plush of them as he grew hard against your stomach. he pulled back, finding the common sense to end this early but your pretty lips followed him pressing kisses to his bare face, neck and collarbones.

“my girl is so needy huh? the boys will be back soon.” he warned, cupping your face and swiping your warmed cheek with his thumb. you nuzzled into his hand playing with the drying hair at his nape.

“please binnie? i’ll be good.” you were begging, eyes glazed over and wide and watery from how badly you wanted him. hanbin would hold you to that promise. he didn’t waste any time then, he wasn’t sure how much there was left anyways and he needed to capitalize on that. lifting you up by the back of your thighs he placed you on the sink counter, making you finally his head level and you gasped as he practically tore your underwear off under your skirt. you grasped his shoulders as he pulled you towards the edge of the counter. he pressed two of his long fingers against your lips, and ever pliant you opened up and sucked them down to the knuckle swirling your tongue over them until hanbin was satisfied. although you’d never admit it you were sure you were already dripping onto the cool counter. he watched you with a smile the type that took over his entire face, if anyone saw him they’d think he was looking at a cute animal and not the love of his life prepping his fingers to finger them. with a pop he pulled his fingers from your plush lips and snuck them under your skirt, brushing your clit before collecting all your slick and diving into you. he was met with resistance, you clenching on his thick fingers as you whined out his name. “shhh baby, don’t want anyone to hear us do you?” you shook your head, opting to burrow your face into his neck instead to silence your moans. “so wet, so tight, so perfect for me, my good girl.” you clenched on him harder, his fingers grazing the fleshy spot inside and making it impossible for you to keep quiet. “look at me baby,” if there was one thing that drove hanbin crazy it was seeing your fucked out expression when he plunged into you. you did your best to maintain eye contact, your pretty face bobbing from the pace he set with his fingers before he pulled them and licked them clean, humming at how sweet you were, eyes still on you and a sob caught in your throat. you were so so close, he was making your blood boil, your legs shake, and your mind cloud over. all you wanted was hanbin, the room smelled like his shampoo and was filled with the sounds of your embarrassingly wet cunt getting fucked by his fingers. you watched him step back, hanging his towel instead in the drying rack as he lined up his hard cock at your entrance, he watched your expression as he collected your arousal, coating his own dick with it and sliding in. hanbin gave you time to adjust, the tip of his stupid long cock bullying your cervix and you breathed out slowly with a nod to get him to move. he was a man on a mission, you both had to come quickly and look fairly normal when you left the bathroom. as if sensing the worst possible time to come home, hanbin heard the front door open and he clasped a hand over your mouth as he pulled out and plunged back in. you whined against his hand, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your boyfriend filled you up.

“stay quiet.” he whispered into you ear and caged your neck with the hand that had been on your mouth. you bucked with his thrusts, the sheer force he was fucking you with making you knock things down as you got shoved up the surface. he hissed at the sound, it wasn’t like it was pin drop silence in the bathroom anyways, the sound of your wet cunt swallowing him and the slap of his balls against your ass filled the room. the apartment was too quiet, he turned the sink on behind you with his free hand, the sound of rushing water disguising the obscene clapping of skin against wet skin. he felt close, you were still clenching around him, his hand on your neck applying pressure as he felt you leak down onto the counter. when he finally plunged into you, coming inside he choked you to keep you quiet as he flicked your clit and made you come along with him. you squirmed in his hold, clenching and milking him for everything he had, feeling dizzy from the pressure on your neck and the mind-numbing orgasm he brought you to. hanbin pulled out slowly, looking down and seeing his come slip out of you onto the counter and he pouted at the sight, shoving it back in you and putting your underwear on swiftly so it would stay there. he couldn’t have his pretty baby have his come spilling down their thighs, it was bad enough you looked ruined. “binnie-“

“hanbin hyung you home?” you heard gunwook yell out from the living room, the sound of the tv being on made him breathe out in relief. at least with the members distracted he had some chance of sneaking you out.

“yeah just showering up!” he yelled back, tucking your hair behind your ear as you looked up at him, standing on shaky legs. you closed your eyes from his touch, it felt so soft and gentle on your skin compared to moments prior when he used like a fuck toy, he was so hot and cold. you loved him more for it.

“you think you can walk?”

#zb1 x reader #zerobase1 #zerobaseone #zb1 jiwoong #zb1 smut #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 reactions #zb1 hanbin #zb1 zhang hao #zhang hao x reader #sung hanbin #sung hanbin x reader #kim jiwoong x reader #kim jiwoong smut #sung hanbin smut #zhang hao smut

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rosesbxrry · 1 year

Text

Links for Jake 🔞

Warnings: this contains nsfw links and explicit commentary imagines on my end. Afab! Reader. Minors do not interact. Of course, this is all fictional and none of the materials represents them.

a/n: I feel like I went overkill while writing this one. I blame this comeback for awakening kinks I never knew I had ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 Also this album is such a masterpiece 😫😫 I can’t stop listening to all the tracks on repeat without crying or screaming at the top of my lungs.

Main Masterlist

Jake loves it when you ride him but loves it even more when he sucks and play with your nipples at the same time

Jake’s hands and lips will never be not on your boobs, no matter what position you are in. You’ll be on top and riding him real good, and he’ll watch with perverted eyes at how your tits will bounce as you move up and down his length.

“That’s it, baby girl.” He’ll purr, hands around your hips to keep you in place. “Fucking your tight and wet pussy with my cock, yeah?”

Leaning back with your palms on his thighs, you arch your back when his tip hits your sweet spot. You were breathing heavily, thighs burning at the constant movement.

Jake’s throat throbbed with agony, reaching out to take a hard nipple into his mouth sloppily. His lips were like a pillow— sucking on the tit before his tongue moved circularly on the skin around it. His thumb moved to stroke the other neglected nipple, letting his fingernails dig into the hard flesh.

“Fuckk,” You moan, holding onto his shoulders for leverage. He was suckling on your nipple, nose deep into the ample of your breast. Thumb and index finger rolling and pinching the other erect nub like a toy. “Faster! Jaeyun, God— let me come!”

He mumbles something on your breast, the vibration sending sweet pleasure straight to your core, coating his length with your juices as he did with your walls.

He rides you off your orgasm, biting and sucking onyour boobs, decorating it with dark marks. Your nipples were sore to the touch, but Jake didn’t stop even when you told him to— because he’ll leave it nice and bruised for you and him to see the next morning.

You told Jake that you like his hands so he shows you how good he can make you feel with them

You shivered when he slowly caressed your side, his fingers leaving feather-like touches that brought you goosebumps. Your back leans deeper into his chest, whimpering desperately when he starts to kiss and lick your nape sensually.

“Look at you,” He tutted, using his index finger to circle around the outline of your breast, avoiding your hard nipples. It throbs painfully the more he teases, making you grip his thighs for dear life.

Jake let out a hearty chuckle. “I haven’t touch you yet and your already acting like a slut.”

“Jake, please.” You pleaded, “Want your fingers to make me feel good.”

He gave you a satisfied hum before grabbing your left boob harshly from behind. His hand moves to trail down between your legs, and you buck your hips when his fingers glide through your folds.

“God, you feel amazing.” He groans against your ear, stroking your pussy up and down until your wetness coats his slender fingers. “You’re so wet, angel.”

He plunges two fingers into your hole, stretching your walls deliciously in a scissoring motion. You were already crying at the pleasure, but when he added his thumb to play with your swollen clit, flickering it back and forth, the world crumbled briefly before you came on his fingers.

“So good for me, look at how much you came.”

He pumps his fingers a few times into your hole before showing his fingers with a proud smile. Your juices glisten in the night light, watching him suck it clean hungrily have made you realize you’ll never look at his hands the same ever again.

When your pussy is daddy’s favourite dessert

Jake takes you by suprise when he push you to sit on the bed, pulling on his tie roughly after tossing his jacket on the floor.

“Spread your legs for Daddy, I want to taste you.”

It was an invitation you could never refuse when he asked so nicely. You open your legs wide for him, watching him dive straight into your cunt with no hesitation as if he didn’t have a full-course meal during your dinner date a while ago.

You felt lightheaded, grabbing a fistful of his soft hair when his tongue probed at your hole. You moaned, gasped, and breathlessly called out his name while his plump mouth kissed your clit gently before lapping it erotically. The lewd sound fills your shared bedroom, making you thrust against his face.

“Feels so fucking good,” You moaned loudly when he licked through your folds slowly and carefully, holding your thighs down when you trash around.

“Please don’t stop, Daddy.”

The knot in your stomach was getting hotter and tighter as he mouths your aching pussy. Jake looked up when you called out to him— messy hair, dark eyes staring right at your eyes while his swollen lips never ceased to eat you up— the sight was such a turn-on between your legs that you came immediately.

Jake ravishes every juice leaking from your wet pussy, lapping and swallowing you dry until you cry from overstimulation. He savoured every taste and scent you offered because, after every delicious meal, you were his sweetest dessert.

Jake showing you how needy he is when you’re not here to please him

You almost choked on your cup of coffee, putting your phone down in case any of your co-workers happened to pass by your cubicle. You silence the volume and move deeper into the corner before clicking on the video Jake had sent you.

He was on his knees atop your shared bed, wearing only a shirt covering nothing on his lower half. You nervously took out your earpiece, finally able to hear his desperate moans of your name slipping out of his pretty mouth.

He pulled his shirt over his head before jerking off his already hard cock. It was red and slick with precum, making such a lewd wet sound. You could hear his breathing hitch, a hand moving up to play with his erect nipples.

You were squeezing your thighs together, hearing his whiny moans and watching him fist his cock so hard that his knuckles turned pale. He stopped for a second, looking directly at the camera as if he was gazing at you.

His cheeks were flushed, and his mouth was open agape, showing you how he thumbs the head of his cock as strings of precum stretch thinly at the motion.

You feel the disappointment in your chest when the video ends abruptly, cold sweat dripping down on your forehead, the warmth that pooled in your underwear made you realize that you need to go home as soon as possible, frantically texting Jake back.

I want you still hard when I get home— don’t you dare come without mommy’s order.

He tells you that your boobs are the best sex toy

Watching porn with Jake was oddly casual. It was an impromptu suggestion that made sense when both of you were bored out of your minds in the middle of the night, and watching it together lets you explore some things that could spice up the bedroom.

You were wearing a crop top, and the material you saw on the internet fitted you like a glove, pushing up your boobs until the cleavage almost spilled up the space. It was ridiculous, but it did the task you needed to give Jake the best boobjob he ever wanted after seeing it being done in a porno.

“Fuck— wait a sec.” He groans, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail, watching his cock push between your boobs. The sight and feel of it all were so intense that he was panting rapidly.

“I think I’m gonna cum.”

“Jake,” you started, “I haven’t even move yet.”

“I know, I know, but—“ He let out a strained groan when you teasingly started to move up and down. Your cleavage jiggled and coated with his precum until it glistened. “Your boobs look so sexy right now, I don’t think I can last long.”

You giggled while watching his face scrunch up in bliss and agony when you started picking up your pace. The area between your chest was so slick that his cock glided through easily, the wet sound making the tension more erotic.

You ride out his release, making sure that the red tip gets completely swallowed up by the pressure of your boobs. He shot up ropes of cum, some dribbling down your abdomen when you release his cock.

His eyes were stuck on the creamy liquid as it dripped down, seeing your hard nipples against the cheap fabric of the shirt, and you knew he was down bad to do it again.

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#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen jake hard hours #enhypen jake smut #jake smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen oneshots smut #enhypen jake x reader smut #sim jaeyun smut #sim jake smut #enhypen smut imagines #enhypen smut scenarios #kpop smut #kpop hard hours #kpop hard thoughts

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dadyscumslutprincess20 · 5 months

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Lost Love

(Small story I thought about doing until I write another request that I got, also be looking out I’m working on 4 request at a time then the rest at once💕)

Cha Hyun su x fem reader

Genre: Just a bit emotional

It’s been a year since you last saw Hyun su after trying his self into the military to keep the remaining survivors of Green Home safe , so we all would be able to saved and took to a shelter/camp that was meant for any survivors

Since then you lived with the regret of not telling him about the baby , both you and Hyun su moved in together in your first apartment at Green home , since you were a bit more social you made a few friends inside the building , but most of you time was spent with Hyun su

When the apocalypse started. Hyun su started to have serious noise bleeds , times where he would black out or there were even moments you felt like he want your Hyun su

After gathering with the remaining survivors you soon learned that Hyun su was a special case of the monsters that now roamed the city

After a while you found out you were pregnant, deciding it wasn’t the right time as you kept the pregnancy to yourself .. not knowing Hyun su would turn his self in the same night

Now here you were a year later with two beautiful children, a boy and a little girl , even though it’s been just a year they were already at the age of 12

Before giving birth to Cha Hee (son) and Cha Hui (girl) , you escaped from the shelter finding a small abandoned camper , the only joy out it was that it was two small rooms that had a full sized bed in both , a small kitchen and dining area that was in the middle and the driver seat that was locked right when you entered the camper

Your pregnancy was pretty easy we’re surprised you along the way , except that you felt your self changing as you started to hear a voice in your head , you belly barely as it looked like you were just bloated from a good meal or something, but you knew you were pregnant, the hardest part of the whole pregnancy was the birth , since you didn’t have any support, you ended up giving birth to the twins inside the camper in your small room , bring down on a spare dry towel you had to hold in your scrams as you gave birth to both Cha Hee and Ch Hui

After giving birth to the twins you noticed how much you’ve changed, your eyes had I slight hit of green with time making your neon eyes now look unnatural, you half grew a bit longer as you soon realized that you gave in to your desires , now becoming a monster but some how keeping it in control.. maybe it was because you had not one but two people to protect

After a few months after having Cha Hee and Cha Hui you soon realized that they weren’t exactly human either , as Cha Hee was born with bright blue eyes , Cha Hui was born with Green eyes

There was a few differences between the two as Cha Hee, he was a quite child , who could make a person go crazy after a certain amount of days soon resulting in their suicide or the death of everyone around them including them selves if you were lucky enough to stay on his good side he would use his touch to show your most happiest memories

Cha Hui was a bit different she was a cold child , always quietly analyzing others , but even though she seemed cold she was super nice once you got to know her , her touch could either set your ablaze as you scream in pain and agony or you could fall into a deep sleep that no one could wake you out of as you live out your deepest fears over and over again, but like her brother if your were no harm to her mother or Cha Hee she could show you your happiest memories ,you didn’t discover this until it happened in front of your eyes

After that you had Cha Hee and Cha Hui to keep on a special pair of gloves that were handmade by you, it made you feel a bit more safe if no one would discover there powers then any one would assume their normal kids , the only thing that would make any one realize their twins it their dark black hair that resembles Cha Hyun Su’s

As you laid in your bed as you start to realize that it’s been quite for a while now , thinking that the the twins were in bed as you stand to your feet , slowly walking out of your room and you peek into their room that was located on the right of yours

Seeing that the room was empty as you start to become slightly worried , heading for the kitchen finning area to see that they weren’t there either

‘Where are they’ the voice in stead your head says as you frantically search the camper a second time just to make sure , but when you saw they weren’t there you quickly open the doors to the camper heading down the three small steps as you head out the door looking left and right frantically as you run straight heading down the road as you call out both Cha Hee and Cha Hui’s names

Not getting a response from neither of your babies as you start to panic thinking of all the possible things that could have happened to them

What if they ran into humans? Or worse the military? , as your mind starts to cloud with questions that only made you panic more , you soon came to a hault as you heard a few giggles , looking around the area as you notice a small grader dome

Taking a small breathe in and out as you head inside the small dome , eyeing scanning around the flowers that bloomed with life , causing you to feel a bit calm but still worrying for you babies

After a while of walking down the small trail you come to a stop , as you feel your body tense up , confusion shown in your eyes

There was Cha Hee and Cha Hui.. but they weren’t alone , there stood Hyun su with a girl that seemed to be around the age of 14 as she talked to Cha Hui who had a small smile on her face , it took a while before Cha Hyun su noticed your presence , eyes locking with your as Ah-yo turned to see why Hyun su was so quite , eyes slowly following his as they land on you soon catching the attention of the twins

“MOMMY” Cha Hee screams out with joy as he runs toward you wrapping his arms around your waist with a smile

“Mom , look we made a new friend” Cha Hee says as pulls away from the hug grabbing a hold of your hand as he pulls you towards Hyun su , Ah-yi and Cha Hui as Cha Hui soon stand beside you wrapping her arms around you as she looks at Ah-hi and Hyun su

“This is Ah-yi and Hyun su” Cha Hee says as he points to both Ah-yi and Hyun su

“And this is our mom , Reader” Cha Hui says as she tightens her hold eyes still watching Ah-yi and Hyun su who eyes now look at you with pure shock

“M-Mom…” Hyun su says as his head hangs low , Ah- yi noticing the hurt in his voice , after a few seconds his head slowly rises eyes now shining blue as he gives you a cold stare

“ After everything we done for you.. to keep you safe , and you have some assholes child , correction children” Hyun su says eyes staring daggers in to yours as you feel a shiver flow down your spine

“I-It’s not like that” You reply as you look down down your feet not able to look him in the eye

“Wait..you know her” Ah-yo says as she looks between you and Hyun su in confusion

“I do actually in fact she’s our dear girlfriend, well was it seems” Hyun su says eyes now looking both at you , Cha Hee and Cha Hui

“I didn’t cheat okay.. I just..” you say looking back in to Hyun Su’s eyes tears now threading to fall

“I don’t know how to tell you and it was to late.. you let us alone” you managed to choke out as tears start to flow, Shock showing on Hyun Su’s face as he looks between Cha Hee and Cha Hui

“T-Their .. mine” Hyun su says eyes slowing turning to normal as he slowly falls to his knees , tears falsify flowing down his face as he looks at you with a sorry expression

“I-I didn’t mean to .. I-I just wanted to keep you safe..I..” before he could finish his sentence Cha Hee warped his in a warm hug as Cha Hui looks him in his teary eyes

“So .. your our father” Cha Hui says as her green eyes watches Hyu su closely as he slowly nods his head in agreement, slowly walking towards Hyun su as she slowly wraps her arms around him pulling him and Cha Hee in a hug

“I had a weird feeling .. it explains why we were okay with you keeping us company” Cha Hee says with apart smile

After a while of hugging , Hyun su informs you on Ah-yi and how he has been taking care of her since she was pretty much born , listening as Hyun su talks about Ah-yi like a proud father , which he was, he starts to feel guilty about missing his own kids growing up deciding to keep not only Ah-yo but you and both Cha Hee and Cha Hui close and safe

#black reader #fem reader #female reader #sweet home #sweet home 2 #sweet home imagines #x reader #cha hyun soo #cha hyunsu #cha hyun su x reader #sweethomefanfic #sweet home x reader #sweet home fanfic #kdrama x reader

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 8 months

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"That's a very stupid idea." Single Dad Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x F! Reader

Summary: On the eve on Jake's first deployment since becoming a father, you and Jake try to act like nothing is different. But can you let him go without telling him the truth? That you've not just fallen in love with Tyler Seresin but also his dad.

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + only, Explicit smut, language, single dad Jake and live in nanny reader, age-gap.

Cross Posted on AO3

You’d grown to love Tyler Seresin like he was your own son. Standing in the doorway to the toddler's room, watching his father kneel on the floor beside him, brushing the sweet blonde curls off his forehead was almost too much.

His father Jake being in the Navy, needed someone desperately when he gained full custody of a son he never knew existed after his mother passed in a tragic accident. His ad on Facebook caught your eye, and the idea of room and board included was an added bonus, but it became more than a job a long time ago.

“I love you, buddy,” you hear Jake whisper, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead. This was the first deployment since you waltzed into their lives thirteen months ago, and your heart aches at the thought of not seeing him every day. He stands, taking another moment to stare at his son before turning back and pausing seeing you in the doorway.

“He’s really gonna miss you,” you whisper, putting a clenched fist to your chest, “we both are.”

His eyes soften as he turns one last time to look at the little boy, before nodding out into the hallway and closing the door shut behind him. “Meet me on the couch?” he asks, staring at you with an unknown expression.

“Yeah,” you tremble, “we got to watch the next episode of Only Murders in the Building.”

Jake smiles but the light doesn’t reach his eyes when he nods, “it’s probably gonna be awhile till we get the chance again. I’ll go get the snacks and meet you there. Maybe we can finish the season tonight, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.”

“Whatever you want to do,” you nod, “I’m not going anywhere.” You take off down the hall, feeling him close behind you as you walk down the stairs and turn off to the living room. He goes to the kitchen grabbing the snacks and you pull out the big blanket and grab the remote, lighting a few candles before flicking off the lights.

Jake comes back a few minutes later, hands full with two beers, a bowl of popcorn, and several bags of candy. You smile, thinking of the candy you’ve been hoarding in your closet to mail him in his care packages. “Blanket please,” he grins and you lift the blanket, the couch bouncing when he settles down beside you, pulling it back over you both and taking the bowl from his hands.

“Now I don’t know about you but I have some theories about our killer,” he takes a handful of popcorn and puts it in his mouth.

“You always have theories,” you tease, settling yourself against him, his arm coming around your shoulders to pull you in tight, “and they’re always wrong.”

He gasps, “No they are not!” You giggle, leaning back against his arm and staring up at him, the smile on his face wavering as you both realize how close you are. His voice softens, as he lifts one knuckle to run along your cheek, “I’m really gonna miss you.”

You take a shaky breath, “I’m really going to miss you too. I’ve had this idea, a recurring thought in my head, that you’re going to find someone else. Come home and not need me anymore.”

“That’s a very stupid idea,” he leans closer, his nose brushing against yours. “I am always going to need you. I’m always gonna want you.”

“Jake,” you whisper, your lips brushing his he’s so close, “we shouldn’t. You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“I know Darlin’,” his accent’s thick, “but if I go away for six months and not at least kiss you, that would be the biggest mistake of my life. Because baby, it would be agony to be alone with nothing but my hand and just the image of you in my head, without having had to taste those lips I dream about, every, fucking, night.”

“You dream about me?” you sit up pushing off the blanket to the floor and straddling his lap. His cock is hard and straining against his sweatpants and you let out a whimper when it catches your clit as you settle down, arms wrapped around his neck.

“Baby,” he warns, letting out a moan when you grab his hands and place them on your ass, giving him the permission he needs. He surges forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. It’s like coming home, he pulls you closer, needing to feel every inch of you pressed against him. His tongue comes out to lick your bottom lip, tangling with your own on a groan.

“Fuck,” you gasp, when he lifts his hips, driving his hard cock against you, your panties drenched and soaking through his sweats. “Jake,” you pull his hair, and he pulls back, his eyes hazy as they watch you pull off the black lace nightgown, dropping it to the floor. If he wasn’t religious before he is now as he worships your breasts, biting and kissing every inch before taking a perky nipple and sucking it into his mouth.

“Oh, god,” you lean back, his hands squeezing your ass as he lowers you off him and down onto the couch. His mouth works down your body and you bite your lip, eyes rolling back when he mouths at your soaked panties.

“Can I take these off, baby?” he asks, and you open your eyes and nod, “I’m gonna need verbal confirmation darlin’.”

“Yes,” your quick to answer, “Jake, please, please, please,” he groans, quickly pulling off your panties and pulling your legs over his shoulder before diving into your soaked cunt. “Oh,” you groan, “fuck, Jake.” He swirls his tongue back and forth over your clit, your pussy soaked, he pulls back and spits on your pussy before diving back in. He must have been blessed with some pussy eating powers because the way he moves his mouth, up and down, fast and then slow have you shaking before the most powerful orgasm of your life takes over. He holds your legs tight, watching as they tremble and you lean back into the couch, your chest high in the air as you whimper out his name.

“That’s it, baby,” he coos, kissing up your chest before finding your lips, “that’s my girl.” He tastes like you, tangy and sweet his chin glistening as he smiles down at you, “Ready for another one?”

You huff out a laugh, still struggling to catch your breath, “I think I need a minute.”

“We got all night,” he whispers, stealing another kiss, “I’ll happily go down on you till the sun comes up, baby. That was a fucking sight.”

“What about you?” you run your fingers through his hair, his eyes closing as he leans further into your touch. “Aren’t you gonna let me have a taste?”

His eyes slowly open, a vulnerability you’re surprised to see after he just put his mouth on your most sensitive areas. “I don’t have any expectations, I’ll take any piece of you, you’ll give me.”

“You’re not the only one who dreams, Lieutenant,” his jaw clenches when you use his title and you worry you’ve crossed a line, quickly going to apologize when he cuts you off.

“Say that again,” his voice has gone deep, and you realize it’s his commanding voice.

“I’d like to serve you, Lieutenant.”

He swallows hard, before getting up and standing beside the couch, your naked and he takes a moment to gaze over you before pulling down his sweats and boxers. Your breath catches in your throat and you lick your lips when he pumps his cock, eyes caressing as he watches the rise and fall of your chest, your thighs clenching together. “On your knees,” his voice is strong and confident and you stand quickly dropping to your knees before him.

“Show me your tongue,” his hand on your jaw is firm but not uncomfortable and you open your mouth presenting your tongue. “That’s a good girl,” he slaps his cock against your tongue, “now serve your Lieutenant.” He takes his hand off your jaw, placing it on your head as he guides his cock into your waiting mouth. He groans when you wrap your lips around him, sucking him deep, “Oh fuck, shit, baby.”

Swirling your tongue around the tip, he looks down, holding your eyes as you suck him deeper and deeper, the tears seeping out of the corner of your eyes and the sounds are vulgar. Spit dripping down his balls and onto your tits, your pussy throbbing with the control, the power he commands as he drives you back and forth on his cock. “Shit, I’m close,” he moans, “stop,” he gasps, pulling you off, “stop, stop.”

“Did I do something wrong?” you frown, glancing up at him as he brushes the tear off your cheek.

“No,” he drops to his knees before you, “no, you did nothing wrong, you hear me?”

You pout, “then why’d you not let me finish?”

His face turns serious before he stands holding out a hand and pulling you off the floor and into his arms. “I wanted to let you finish,” he comforts, “believe me, baby. But I want to do something else more if you’ll have me.”

“Oh Jake,” you run your fingers through his hair, “you’ve had me from the moment we met. There’s never been anyone else, and I don’t think they’ll ever be anyone else.”

Jake leans down, picking you up bridal style and taking off for the bedroom. He pushes the door open and lays you down gently with a soft kiss before turning back to the door and closing it, sliding the lock into place. He goes to the nightstand, turning on the soft light before reaching for a box of condoms and setting them on top of the dresser.

He grabs one, and you sit up taking it from his hands and ripping it open. His eyes watch as you slide it onto his cock, before you lay back against the plush pillows. Jake settles between your legs, his hands on either side of your waist as he kisses you so slowly and achingly tender it makes you want to cry. The first press of him inside has you tenseing before he reaches down between you, rubbing your clit slowly as he works in inch by inch. He fills you so completely like he was meant to be here, his cock pressing deep enough inside you, you can feel him hit your cervix.

“Fuck,” he moans, pressing his forehead to your own, “your pussy is perfect, baby, so tight and warm wrapped around me. I never want to leave.”

“I don’t want you to leave either,” you whisper, a tear sliding down your cheek, “god, Jake, you were made for me. I-” you hesitate only a second, “I love you.”

Jake leans back, his eyes wide as he licks his lips, a single tear running down his cheek as he slowly starts to move inside you. You’ve read before about people making love for the first time but never experienced it. But the way Jake moves, his body so in sync with your own, this isn’t fucking, this is making love.

The pressure builds and you move your hips meeting him with each thrust, his hand moving back between you as he rubs your clit. “That’s it, baby,” he praises, “cum with me, almost there,” his hips move fast and there is a power that knocks the air from your lungs with each thrust before you're crying out as he fills you. He never stops, still thrusting steadily inside you, letting you ride out your orgasm before pulling out.

You catch your breath feeling vulnerable when he quickly leaves the bed and flicks on the bathroom light. Only for him to return a moment later, the condom disposed of, and a warm washcloth running over your spent pussy. He tosses the cloth into the laundry bin, turns off the light, and folds into bed behind you, pulling you against his chest, his chin slotted on your shoulder.

Jake presses his lips to your cheek and whispers, “I love you,” into your ear. You turn, glancing up at him with wide eyes and he smiles running his fingertip over your face as he traces every line. “Did you think I didn’t?” you stay silent, watching him and trying to take a mental picture. “I’ve been in love with you since the day I came home to Tyler sitting on the counter in his chair laughing as you danced to Foot Loose.”

“That was eleven months ago,” you do the math, “why didn’t you say something?”

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if you didn’t feel the same way. I’m older than you by ten years baby, and I’m a single parent. I didn’t want you to feel stuck. You still have so much to do in your life, I didn’t want you to have to wait around for me.”

“I choose you, Jake,” you press a hand to his cheek, his eyes becoming glassy. “I love you, Jacob Andrew Seresin. I love Tyler like he’s my own son, and there is nothing on this earth that is going to take me away from you. Tomorrow you have to leave for six months and fuck I’m going to miss you every single day but I will be here when you get back. Because that is what you do when you love a man in uniform, Jake.”

“I love you,” he whispers, your full name coming out like honey on his tongue. “I’m gonna fight like hell to come home to you. To both of you. I’ll call home as much as I can and write when I can’t.” He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back into his chest, his cock hard against your ass, and you wiggle causing him to groan in your ear.

“So soon, Lieutenant?” you tease, his hand on your waist dipping lower between your thighs and his teeth leaving hickeys on your neck, soothing with his tongue.

“Oh baby,” he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his voice, “we got all night.”

#Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Hangman Seresin x Reader #Female Reader #Top Gun Maverick #Top Gun Fanfiction #Autumn Writes

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missglaskin · 2 years

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hello, how do you think the yandere boys from hotd (separated) would react, let's say they already have a few children with their wife reader and during her last pregnancy reader almost died during childbirth? (reader is his first wife...maybe?) thanks you are just amazing 😜

Also another ask: How do you think romantic yanderes (wether they are in a relationship with darling or not) would react to their darling having a difficult labor? Like it was even suggested that they do what they did to Aemma?

Note: I combined the two requests as they’re similar also the reader lives. Please, this is a sensitive topic. Don’t read if easily triggered.

- As tradition, Otto is in the halls, waiting for the birth of your child. He’s concerned when the maesters seek him to inform him of the difficulties of your labor. Otto declines the suggestion and demands for the maester to leave it to the god; he’ll not make the same mistake as his king. He gives himself a moment to think.

Otto is uncertain and concerned about the outcome for the first time in a long time. But once he hears the child’s cry and with the news of you alive but exhausted; he sighs in relief. Since you've already given him children and he has heirs, you’re forced to drink moon tea whenever the two of you consummate. He’ll not risk your life for something he already has.

- Since you announced your pregnancy, Corlys has made sure you always have the best maesters with you and that your delivery will go without a hitch—after all, this isn't your first child. Your screams of pain could be heard as he waited outside the chambers, but they were concerning. Contrary to custom, Corlys enters the room and demands to know what is happening. After learning about your predicament, he rushes to your side and tries to reassure you.

When the masters suggest cutting you open; Corlys is furious and questions if they’ve gone mad to suggest such a thing. He will stay by your side the entire time, holding you close. When the baby is successfully delivered, he will kiss your forehead with a big smile on his face, relieved that everything went well.

- Regardless of tradition, Harwin has always been in the room with all the children you have given birth to. He immediately realizes that something is wrong. His suspicions are confirmed when he notices the midwives' and maester's worried expressions. Harwin is holding your hand the entire time as you cry in agony.

When the maester suggests cutting you open, Harwin grabs him roughly by the clothing. He refuses to accept that this is the only way. And the maester, to avoid Harwin's wrath, chooses to remain silent after. It is a miracle when the birth is successful; causing Harwin to smile in relief as tears stream down his cheeks.

- Aegon didn't anticipate any issues with the birth; all of your previous ones were successful, so this one ought to be as well. When he learns that you are experiencing problems, he is shocked. His mother was present, and it is she who must warn him of what may happen because she is aware of how Aegon might respond to the maester if he were to deliver the message.

As to be expected, Aegon is infuriated by the suggestion and demands the master that they should put your life before the child's. He’s not willing to lose you; he’s not going to lose you. He finally calms down when hearing the good news; you and the child have survived the process. Even if he doesn't have an heir, Aegon makes it clear that this is the last child.

- Every previous birth you’ve had, Daemon was present in the room. And due to them fearing for their lives; the maester and midwives would remain silent. He could easily see that something was wrong, more so when you start calling for him. The maester hesitates and speaks in a trembling manner when he suggests cutting you open. Daemon replies that Caraxes would love to have him for dinner, if this birth costs your life.

If it ever comes down to it, he'll choose you over the child. Daemon tries his best comforting you; pleading with you to be strong. Fortunately, a miraculous event occurs; you and the child live. Daemon gives you a genuine smile while saying you are indeed his strong, brave girl.

- While his mother and the others caution him about how inappropriate it would be for him to be in the room with you, Aemond insists, and he often notices that the maester and midwives take more care when he is watching them. When Aemond must witness you in excruciating pain, there is panic. The maester suggests they cut your stomach open, but Aemond says that instead he should cut the said measter’s stomach open for daring to come forth with such a suggestion.

He’s even more bothered when told to leave it to the gods. It makes him uneasy to be left powerless in a situation such as this. But when the child was successfully removed, crying and kicking their legs, he was left feeling relieved. Others in the room are shocked to see the prince in such a vulnerable state as he rests his head on yours. But they are quick to leave the two of you alone to avoid Aemond’s wrath.

#yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd #yandere concept #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere asoiaf #asoiaf x reader #x reader #reader insert #daemon targaryen x reader #otto hightower x reader #corlys velaryon #harwin strong x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader

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bahrtofane · 4 months

Text

kylians sick, and only you can make him feel better

word count - 1.1 k+

watch it - pure fluff ^^

-----

kylian feels like shit. a pile of straight garbage. what he thought was a small headache and stuffy nose has snowballed full force into the worst cold he’s had since he was like 5. at least he hopes it’s just a cold.

his eyes droop wet and cloudy with the tears that he keeps blinking away. he desperately wants to go to sleep but the constant leaking of his nose and the feeling of being permanently submerged in water from his ears down is making that impossible. his left ear hurts with each movement of his head, god forbid he yaws, not only does it send a shock wave of pain to his ear but also makes the swelling of his sore throat that much more apparent.

his head pounds, phone long forgotten somewhere tossed on the floor. and to top it all off he thinks he’s running a fever. it’s so cold, no matter how hard he tries to sink deeper into his mattress, hugging his comforter tighter, he can’t fight the constant chill that creeps up his spine.

it’s around 2 am last time he checked. god fucking dammit he just needs to go to bed. he so desperately wishes you were here, to kiss away his frustrated tears, tuck him into bed properly, make him feel better. but he doesn’t want to bother you. especially not at this time. he can power through this, he knows he can.

hours pass by in agony. the sweat has pooled in his sheets, sticking it to him and permanently settling in a cold he can’t shake off. it’s shit. he feels like shit. he probably smells like it too. And to make everything so much fucking better training is first thing tomorrow morning. Shit shit shit shit.

why does this always happen to him at the most inconvenient of times. what it the hair he didn’t dry off before bed 2 days ago? the coat he didn’t wear when taking the trash out? ice water he drank after practice? holy fucking shit, he writhes in his sheets and comforters again, silently praying to any entity out there to end this suffering.

the pain and exhaustion is what knocks him out. for better or worse.

——-

kylian eyes open blearily, blinking away harsh rays of sunlight and crusties from the restless night. when he wakes he realizes one of two things, 1) it’s way, way, past training, and 2) he feels impossibly worse.

he doesn’t get out of bed, mainly because he just can’t. the pain has immobilized him, fearing if he so much as moves an inch it’ll sink him further into helpless suffering.

so he whines pitifully and closes his eyes tight.

——-

he’s woken up again, but not by the sun, or pain. it’s the sound of his door opening that startles him awake. lovely, absolutely marvelous. he’s fucking bed ridden and about to be robbed. what a time to be alive.

the footsteps don’t sound like an intruders, soft and gentle as they pad around his apartment. kylian waits in silence. what if it’s someone sent to check on him? hakimi most likely.

when the door to his room opens he’s never been happier to be wrong.

it’s you, standing in his hoodie, wrapped in one of the blankets he leaves on the couch. a god send.

you take one look at his feeble state and frown.

“kyky?”

all he can do is manage a garbled response, more of a pitiful whine.

you rush over, kicking the blanket off and rushing up to cup his face in your hands.

“my sweet baby, are you sick?” you murmur.

a weak nod.

“shit you're burning up, hold on.”

you come back with a thermometer, gently opening his mouth and setting it under his tongue.

“hold still baby.” you whisper, hand holding his jaw in place, he almost melts into your touch.

he waits for what feels like hours, till the little beeps go off and you gently remove the plastic from his mouth.

“you have a fever all right. i prescribe to you bed rest, lots of fluids, and tylenol for the pain. “

he blinks sleepy and you take that as an answer.

you get to work tidying up his room for him while he blinky sleepily as you.

"just rest, I'll call the team for you."

he goes back to the safety of sleep the moment you finish your sentence.

—--

when he wakes out yet again, its to you at the foot of his bed, and a bowl of spoop in hand.

he grimaces at the thought but you shake your head, "you gotta eat baby."

he all but sobs trying to get up to eat properly, but you make it work. gently spooning the hot soup into his mouth.

it takes a little while but the soup is half done when he calls it quits. flopping back into his expanse of pillows and blankets.

he makes a noise and you feel his hand desperately reaching for you, as meek as can be. you give it to him, gently swiping your thumb over his.

bed time proves to be a hassle as all he can do is groan in pain, begging for you to join him in the very few words he can croak out.

“if i get sick, who will take care of you? “

he stays silent, out of spite or inability remains a mystery as you tuck him into bed properly and take your things to the guest room.

——-

thankfully, it is just a cold and he’s back to his usual self in no more than 3 days. all thanks to you.

he’s a quiet type of thanker, thanks lies in his actions and eyes rather than words.

the gentle hand that rests on the small of your back, picking you up even if its just a 5 minute drive. he gets you flowers, and even takes you out to dinner.

your smiles the whole way and it makes him beyond happy.

he finally gets those kisses he wanted to bad, easy and smooth against his skin.

"thank you darling." he hums, hands on your waist, bringing you close.

you smile against his lips, melting into them once more. you sit on his lap at the edge of his bed. at the edge of the world you feel sometimes.

"come to the match?" he almost begs.

"always."

"I have a jersey I want to see you in." he plays with the hem of your shirt.

"when do you not want to see me in your jersey?" you playfully roll your eyes.

he snorts, flipping you into your back, mercilessly attacking your sides with tickles as you burst at the seams.

you laugh till you cant breath, and he's enjoying this all too much. collapsing into you when he's had enough.

"your heavy." you squeak.

he pretends not to listen, you resort to kicking him off.

"wheres this jersey ?"

he immediately jumps at this, taking your hand in his to lead you to your 50th jersey of his at this point. you don't mind, if anything it fills you with pride and joy to wear his jerseys. always his.

#kylian mbappe #kylian imagines #kylian x reader #kylian x you #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe one shot #kylian fanfic #kylian mbappe imagines #football headcanon #football imagine #kylian mbappe imagine

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lethalchiralium · 1 year

Text

No More | [2] | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: WOW. i did not expect that to blow up as hard as it did. thank you so much!! [this seriously might become a series. we’ll see.] [also, that means you’re getting a backstory. a very… need for speed backstory ;)] i really do think this is shitty but that’s all part of the plan baby!

warnings: cussing, alcohol, simon drinks to forget but he always remembers, non-sexual nudity, mentions of genocide, mentions of trauma, mentions of past careers, mentions of planes, mentions of crashing, mentions of american citizenship (you don’t have to be from there if you don’t want to be! i live there and i don’t want to be here! it’s just important from a certain aspect of your previous career.) simon is also a lot more lovey when he’s drunk.

summary: He’s convinced he should leave. He’s convinced himself that you are better off without him, better alone than being hurt by a shell of a man like him. He barely got a foot out of the door before he changed his mind.

part one here! | SERIES MASTERLIST

He had more bourbon in the past two months than he’s ever had in his entire life. The sickly sweet pull and the burn down his throat was a comforting pain as agony ripped through his heart. He sat alone in your shared apartment, a dim lamp being the only light in the entire space. He hadn’t gotten sick of the bourbon like he usually does, he couldn’t move it from the coffee table - he had sat forwards, arms resting on his knees and hands dug into his hair.

He was bone tired. He hadn’t slept in two days; it was a normal occurrence now that you had gone on that mission. He had to take leave so he didn’t rip Price’s throat out for not letting him go with you. The ache in his head still hadn’t gone away with the aspirin he took a few hours ago and the full bottle of his best bourbon down the hatch. The night wasn’t flying by like it did last night, he could hear the clock on the wall tick as he wallowed in his own misery.

Sometimes it took him weeks to bring up the scalpel and separate Ghost and Simon, divide the halves into quarters and dissect what actions could have been better performed to produce a better outcome - essentially, what he did to fuck up the one good thing he had going for him, and how he could fix it. He took your words to heart, and he was taking a very long time to stew over everything he could have done that would’ve have made him look like he didn’t trust you. Simon trusted you with every fiber of his being, he loved you more than that. He knew you were an amazing fighter, your fire to help those in need could never be extinguished.

He realized later rather than sooner that Ghost was why you didn’t trust him - Ghost was protecting the person Simon loves the most. And maybe, that included when you were home too. Keeping Simon locked away so he didn’t get hurt, so Simon didn’t get hurt by you.

If he had half a bottle less, he would’ve gone up to bed - but the room felt suffocating without you. He couldn’t lay in a bed that smelled like you if it became one of the last things he had of you in case you were killed, so he had cat napped on the couch for the past nine weeks. If he had a bottle less, he wouldn’t have thought about how his absence wouldn’t hurt you as much as Ghost does - if he had the £348 he spent on alcohol back, he wouldn’t have thought how this place felt like your home. Never his, he also categorized it underneath Ghost’s half - keeping his love at arms length so his self-destruction doesn’t hurt you.

He was drunk. Piss drunk, since he had never gave himself time to sleep off the bourbon. Ghost was cracked in the middle, and Simon was punching out holes in Ghost’s façade. Ghost never allowed Simon to feel, never allowed him to connect with anyone - a self-defense mechanism. But now? Ghost was almost gone, and he felt like himself now. And God, did it hurt.

How could he have done this? How could have pushed you away so far that your rope was dwindling by a thread, how could he have hurt the one thing that made him begin to unlock the cage around his freezing cold heart? He felt it in his chest, the raw burn and tug of desperation - he knew that he had to cut the thread.

He didn’t want to, he would give anything to not let you go - but Simon couldn’t let you keep getting damaged by his defense measures.

If he had no alcohol in his system, he wouldn’t have gotten up like he did. He wouldn’t have waltzed to the guest room, messily packed his duffle and brought it to the living room. He wouldn’t have grabbed a pen and an old pad of paper. And he definitely wouldn’t have written the note he was writing now.

He folded the note, lifting up the bottle of bourbon on the coffee table and setting it down on the table, putting the bottle on the corner to hold the note down. His hand grabbed his duffle and he stood and he made his way to the front door. He slipped on his boots, only caring enough to tuck the laces into his socks before Simon went to open the door. He took the time to turn around, gazing at the dim apartment that smelled like you, that held all of your important belongings. It was the place that cradled you when you were down, the place he kept falling for you, the place he would kneel to the kiss the ground you walked on.

This was the place he loved you.

Honestly, in the back of his mind, he knew his sober ass would walk home after a week.

Before he could open the door, the lock turned and the door burst open - he threw his duffle into the adjacent kitchen and was about to fight. That was before he saw you.

Dirt and blood caked on your face, your duffle hanging from your hand, your hoodie tattered and your neck bruised - and he watched as the tears raced down your face. He could barely even begin to speak when you flung your duffle inside and dove into his chest, arms wrapped around his chest so hard, he thought you would pop his lungs.

“Baby, baby, hey,” He cooed, his hand immediately held your head against his chest - he pulled you both out of the way so he could close the door and lock it, now he was immediately sobered up. Your sobs were loud now, your hands gripped onto the back of his shirt so hard he was convinced it would rip.

He tried to pull you away but you refused, begging, “Please, pl-please don’t let me go.”

“Where’s Cerby?” He spoke gently, keeping his hand on the back of your head, feeling dirt crusted into your scalp. You must have come straight here.

“With K-Keegs.” You mumbled, muffled by his thin t-shirt with a faded band logo on it. He sighed, sad that his dog wouldn’t be home for a few days but he let the feeling go. All he needed to focus on was you, and definitely not his foolish actions from literally three minutes prior.

He hummed then, his free hand moved to underneath your thigh - he pulled it up so you would get the hint, which you did. Your arms moved from around his chest to around his neck and you jumped into his arms, caging your legs around his large waist as best you could. Both of his hands held the back of your thighs, he glanced to the kitchen and made sure both of the duffles were there and unharmed. They were, so he turned around and walked down the hallway to the bedroom he hadn’t used in since the last time you were home. He pushed the door open, turning on the warm light before walking into the ensuite bathroom.

He flicked on the light before moving to sit on the side of the bathtub, it creaked under your combined weight - you were sat firmly on his lap and his hands went to your back and head, cradling you.

“I’m gonna start a bath for you, love.” He spoke, his voice wavering with uncertainty as your arms wrapped tighter around his masked neck.

“No, no, please, don’t let go.” The tumble of words from your mouth made his grip on you tighter. He couldn’t imagine what happened, he didn’t want to - he thanked God that he decided to drink that entire bottle of bourbon a couple of hours ago. His mind was muddled, he could barely get any thought out of what could’ve happened. All he wanted to do now was help you.

He kissed the top of your head through his mask, dismissing the feeling of cloth against his lips and he gently pulled your head back, he gazed into your red-rimmed eyes. He whispered your name like a prayer, as if you were an angel - which you were to him. Even covered head to toe in dirt, blood, and grime, he would still be able to see your halo through any darkness. “Let me help, love. Let me help you feel better, then I won’t let you go for as long as you want.”

“I can’t.” The voice he heard was almost unrecognizable, he had never heard you sound so small. “I can’t, I can’t.”

He sighed, moving forwards to press the skull to your forehead - something he did when he knew you needed it. You physically relaxed when he did it, your back bent into his hand as you pushed every single ounce of weight onto him. His fingertips pressed into your spine, dragging up and down it from above your shitty old hoodie. He stayed like that for a few minutes, letting you cry against his mask. He gave you a bit of time before he pulled up your hoodie, you obliged and let him pull it over your head. You were just in your dirty black sports bra, and now he got a good look at you.

He felt bile rise in his throat. Your entire chest was spray painted in black bruises, he got a good look at the dark purplish handprint on your neck. He looked back up at you, your head faced to the side as you cried, ashamed.

“Oh, my love,” His hand returned to the back of your head, cradling it as he gazed at you. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

You quickly shook your head, tears removing most of the grime on your cheeks. Your arms were now at your side, fiddling with the hem of his athletic shorts while you let out a broken sigh. His hands moved to lift you off of his lap, one hand didn’t stop touching you while he pulled off your boots, tossing them to the side before tugging off your holed socks. He made a mental reminder to buy you new socks at the base shop while he placed a hand on your back, guiding you with him as he moved to turn the faucet on. He turned it all the way up then back a little, the temperature you liked. He plugged the drain and put his hand underneath the flow of water, waiting for it to turn almost hot - normally, he would’ve made it extremely hot, you had always said you thought it was like being boiled like a lobster. But, he didn’t want to agitate your injuries. His hand moved from your back and didn’t break skin contact when he took your hand, still looking away from you but he still held your hand gently.

“You’re warm.” You mumbled, moving his hand up to settle on your cheek.

“I know, love.” He answered, turning back to you. His hand slipped from your face and down your side to your belt loops, undoing the buttons and zipper then pulling down your pants. He took your hands as you stepped out of your pants, watched as you kicked them behind you and he observed new pink scars, healed but still fresh. Surrounding them were black bruises, identical to the ones on your chest. He heard your whimpers of pain when you stood back up, his hand ghosted your side as he gazed at it, seeing identical black bruises again. Even if he felt sober, he knew that the adrenaline from you showing up injured would wear off and he would become sloppy. He didn’t hurry, he took his time as he pulled down the boxers you stole from him and toss them away. His hands found the bottom of your sports bra, your wince made him pause and look at your face again.

Fat tears still rolled down your cheeks, silent sobs left you as you kept your eyes closed. Your hands stayed at your side until he murmured, “Raise your arms please.” You did as you were told, he tugged it off quickly but not as painlessly as he wanted. You let out a loud wheeze that echoed throughout the bathroom, he placed his hand on your side again, his presence close to you as he leaned down and shut off the water. “‘m gonna pick you up, love.”

“Okay.”

He did as he had said, gently swooping you into his arms and placing you in the warm water that reached up to your collarbone. Your eyes opened again when he retreated from the tub, your gaze watched as he pulled out a towel from the closet and began to rummage through it.

“I almost died.”

Simon visibly froze as you turned back, your gaze now staring at the light above the tub. He peered around the door, hand clutching a washcloth with a pain he couldn’t soberly place. “Do…Do you want to tell me?”

You didn’t respond. He brought all of the materials to the side of the tub, he gently pet your head.

Simon, drunk as hell, bathed you with care. He didn’t speak a word and neither did you, you stared at the wall the whole time except when he tried to wash your hair. You let him move you under the faucet, rinse your hair for five minutes because he couldn’t tell if the soap was gone yet, let him dry you with a towel and dress you in new clothes.

You could barely keep your eyes open when he carried you to bed, tucking you in before he did himself. He watched as you curled into a ball, facing him and keeping your eyes on the sheets, your hand drew circles beside your face. He turned off the lamp on the nightstand, drowning the room in darkness and settled back onto the bed, watching you with bated breath.

“Got trapped in a burning truck.” Your voice almost spooked him, his eyebrows furrowed. You just stared at the gray sheets. “RPG’d the ground in front of us and flipped it. Knocked Logan and Keegs out. Hesh got launched from the driver’s windshield. Had to drag them out and triage them in an abandoned warehouse while trying to fight off the enemy. Got captured for a week. Keegs saved me.” You sniffled a little, your hand reached for his - he instantly took it. He squeezed your hand. “Had bad flashbacks. It had been a while since I’ve got stuck under burning metal and tortured. S’why I was crying.”

“How’re the boys?”

“Watchin’ Cerby and all as stubborn as always. All fine.” You mumbled, pressing his rough skin to your chapped lips.

A deafening silence settled then, your thumb threaded over the back of his hand while he felt your breath graze it. He began to feel drowsy, the slow turn-table of dizziness was coming back from earlier and all he wanted to do was place his head in your neck and just breathe. He needed you like he needed oxygen, you touch him and he felt like it was the first breath he’s ever taken.

“Sleep, baby.” He murmured, sliding down from his sitting position, underneath the soft duvet. He moved closer to you, settling his head so that he laid face to face with you. He could barely make out your nose and cheeks in the dim moonlight, but he could see the glisten of your eyes as they gazed at his.

“I haven’t had a PTSD episode since I left the US Naval Aviation division.” The voice he heard sounded nothing like what you normally do - it was small. Broken. Damaged. An echo of you.

He furrowed his brows, he thought he knew everything about you. Both your dad and childhood best friend were pilots, but you never specified what kind - and apparently neglected to tell him that you were one too. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a pilot?”

You sniffled, squeezing his hand and ignored his question. “Got shot down over enemy territory. Crash landed and had to pry my legs from my jet as the fire burned.” The sensation of his hand being squeezed tighter made his dizzy mind think that you were angry - but in reality, the memory of burning metal against your hands made you feel scared. You wanted to pull him closer, to have him shield you from your memories. Yet you kept talking, even if you recognized the hurt twang in his voice. “Had to fend for myself in an abandoned city just over the border in Ukraine. Stayed in that town for three weeks ‘til Special Forces came and found me.” You pulled his arm to your chest, pressing his hand into your cheek. “S’where I met Price. Almost shot him too, thought he was an enemy.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the flashbacks?” His voice was softer then, he pressed his warm palm down to your jaw. “I could’ve helped you, my love.”

“‘Cause it’s not important now.” You murmured, both of your hands cradled his. “Wasn’t even s’posed to stay with 141, meant to go back to Miramar. Meant to get back in the air.” You took a quiet breath. “I fell for you and everything I knew went up in smoke.”

His heart dropped to the floor. It thumped against it, still pumping blood but it hurt in his chest.

“If I hadn’t given it up, I wouldn’t have you.”

“I would give up anything for you.” He whispered. “Don’t give up anything for me, darling. You deserve everything you have.”

“That means I deserve you.”

“You don’t deserve me.” He immediately answered, his other hand went to settle on the duvet, tugging it up more. “You don’t deserve my problems, how fucked up I am.”

“I don’t care.”

“You should.” He settled his hand on your side, feeling you breathe underneath his fingertips. “I’ve hurt you, not on purpose but I still did it.” His thumb circled on the duvet, you barely felt it as his voice became quieter. “You really hurt me when you walked away.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice wavered, he couldn’t bear to hear you start to cry again. He paused, hand coming from your hip to completely take off his mask - something he had never done in your presence before. He tossed the mask away onto the floor as he moved forwards, placing his lips against your moonlight dusted cheek.

“I deserved it.” He answered, settling back and pulling your hands into his chest. “Made me think for a while.”

“You’re drunk.” A statement he didn’t deny, he pulled your hands upwards to his collarbone.

“I am.”

“Because of me?”

“Because I hurt you.” He answered, now pulling your hands to settle on his cheeks. “I want you to feel that I trust you, because I do.” He began to move your hands upwards, his eyes fluttered closed as your fingertips traced his warm face, tracing his eyebrows and dancing over his eyelids.

“Simon, you don’t have to let me do this.” Your hands paused, his own grip settled on your wrists. “I want you to be sober, you’ll be mad at me tomorrow.”

He scoffed, moving his head to kiss one of your palms, keeping his eyes closed as he whispered, “I could never be mad at you. Frustrated or upset? Yes, but angry? No.” He gently rubbed your arms, hands moving to settle on your own cheeks. “I’ve decided that you need to really know how much I trust you. How much faith I have in you. How proud I am of you.”

“You hurt me for so long.” Your voice cracked so heavily, fingertips grazing his forehead and memorizing his nose, coming down to trace his lips you knew well.

“I want to fix it.” His lips kissed your palm again, eyes opening to gaze at your dimly lit face. “Give me a chance.”

“I think this is most comfortable you’ve ever been to talk about things like this.” You remarked, hands stopping on his jaw, cradling it. “I want you to show me how much you trust me, but when you’re sober.”

He nodded in return, moving forwards to place a slow kiss on your lips. His hands moved to settle on the side of your head, pulling you forward just a little. When he broke the kiss, he placed another on the tip of your nose. “You’ll know how much I treasure you until the end of time.”

“Okay.”

“Just don’t leave me like that ever again.” His voice was low, one hand going to trace down your body. “Ever.”

You nodded as you moved closer to him, chest to chest. He removed his other hand from your cheek and slid his arm under his pillow.

“Sleep, love. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

_______________

comment for part 3! (part three here!!)

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farfromstrange · 6 months

Text

Do No Harm

CHAPTER ONE: Night Shift

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Matt has to accompany Foggy to the ER in the middle of the night because he dislocated his shoulder. In need for some peace and quiet, Matt wanders the halls of Metro General and instead finds you crying in one of the abandoned hallways. A conversation ensues.

Warnings for this chapter: Slight angst, mention of injury.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: My brain gets the strangest ideas for fics and then I have to write them or else I will go crazy. This is how this baby was born. Keep in mind, I’m not a doctor. I simply watch a lot of medical dramas and I like to research medical terms for the fun of it. Heed the warnings for the entire series (see Series Masterlist) but also chapter-specific warnings that apply, as seen above. I hope you enjoy!

Read Chapter 1: Night Shift here on AO3

Ever since he can remember, Matt has hated hospitals. The antiseptic scent that lingers in the air, the sterile white walls that seem to close in around him—it all brings back memories of days spent in agony, tied to an uncomfortable bed, and seeing nothing but an endless void of black.

He can only tune out so much. The stench, the sirens, and the overlapping voices in an emergency room—they could easily kill him.

Hospitals remind him of what he lost. He lost his vision, he lost his father and in the process, he lost his innocence. Matt lost everything, and even though he is well aware that it isn’t the hospital’s fault that he decided to save a man or that his father made a deal with the devil and got himself killed, he still hates the same empty walls that made him feel so small to begin with.

Matt doesn’t want to be a liability, he doesn’t want to be the reason the people he loves get hurt, and yet it continues to happen time and time again.

Maybe he’s cursed. It’s the only explanation for how things are going for him now. Maybe God has a grudge and finally decided to exercise his right to make his life a living hell. There is an infinite number of possibilities, but none of them make sense.

He’s the anti-hero of his own story and that of everyone else who has ever dared to let him into their lives. He’s his own worst enemy, his personal saboteur. His unwavering pride has a tendency to get in the way of his happiness, which often leads to more bad than good, but admitting that would leave him vulnerable and exposed—and he can’t let himself get hurt again.

It’s better to push the people he loves away before he can hurt them and force them to walk out on him the same way everyone else in his life has walked out on him ever since he can remember. At least in his twisted mind, that’s true.

He never thought he would find himself in Metro General again, not since Claire came into his life. Claire, the caring nurse who saved him when he was on death’s door and continued doing so until she realized that falling for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen comes with its own set of risks.

Foggy dislocated his shoulder.

It’s almost laughable. Out of everyone, he chose Matt to come to the hospital with him. Not Karen, Matt. He had the choice between the most empathetic person either of them have ever met, and Matt, someone so far out of touch with his own feelings, living in denial has become the standard for him. Foggy chose the latter, for whatever reason he doesn’t even seem to know himself. It just felt like the most natural thing to do, he told Matt when he asked his best friend, “Why me?”

He should feel honored that he trusts him that much, but being trapped in the sterile four walls of the hospital he only connects bad memories to while Foggy is stuck in the queue for an X-ray feels more like torture than an honorable act.

The loud, demanding voices of the nurses, the painful groans and soft cries coming from the patients in the waiting area of the emergency room a few doors down, and the obnoxious beeping of the machines lining the walls in every room are like a swarm of bees in Matt’s inner ear. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t get them out. He’s allergic to them.

The room smells of disinfectant, blood, and other bodily fluids. He tries to focus on his cologne and the scentless laundry detergent he has grown so accustomed to over the years, but the balm only lasts for a few seconds before the wound reopens and his senses are flooded.

Matt keeps rhythmically tapping his fingers on his thigh. How much longer he can sit on this uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology area and wait for Foggy to return, he doesn’t know. It won’t be long now until he loses his mind. He is about to drown in his own misery.

He feels the desperate urge to land his fist in the wall next to him. He wants to scream, cry, maybe even both—this night is not going well. He hasn’t had a good night in weeks. Tonight though, he’s stuck in the hospital rather than outside, doing something against the injustice he is forced to listen to every day.

The hits he took the previous night were pretty severe, and his ribs still hurt. The numb ache that tears through him whenever he moves is a temporary relief from the pain induced by the noise around him. Whatever bits of sanity he tries holding onto eventually slip through his fingers.

Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. He gets up, his head tilting toward Foggy’s elevated heartbeat. He’s still in line. Fifth, probably.

Matt taps his cane against the floor, making his way down the hallway. He’s not quite sure where he’s going or where he will land, he just knows that he needs to get out of there as fast as possible.

Rounding the hundredth corner of the evening, the sound of clattering metal trays and medical supplies disappears behind layers of drywall and automatic doors. Matt takes a moment, and he realizes that right here—right where he is now—he can finally breathe again.

The sound travels more easily. The air wafting through the vents and over the cotton sheets on a row of empty beds is the only sound that meets his ears. They’re lined against one side of the wall. The rooms are empty, the doors locked. It seems as if in a moment of desperation, he found his way to one of the abandoned parts of the hospital.

A lack of funding caused Metro General to cut their losses. It certainly wasn’t an easy decision, but with capitalism on the rise, public hospitals are barely holding on.

Even though the truth is depressing, Matt still can’t believe his luck when he realizes how quiet it is. That may be a selfish thought, but he can't help it. The world is always so loud and uncomfortable. Finding someplace quiet after torturing himself in the waiting room for hours feels like heaven on earth on such a busy night.

The fog dulling his senses finally dissipates. He takes a deep breath. The air is cleaner here. No disinfectant, only the faint scent of plastic and dust; he wouldn't have thought it possible that he would ever consider that combination a blessing.

That’s when he hears it—a slightly elevated heartbeat followed by a series of muffled sobs. He got so caught up in the fact that he finally found what he was looking for amidst the chaos that he forgot to fan out his hearing.

Despite what he originally believed, he isn’t alone.

The air smells of the salty essence of human tears. Matt stops dead in his tracks, not sure whether to continue his journey or to turn around and return to the uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology department.

“This nervous breakdown space is occupied,” your soft voice bounces off the high walls. It’s thick with exhaustion. Pain. Loss. He almost recoils at the all-too-familiar feeling it elicits in him.

Matt keeps his cane hugged tight to his chest, his knuckles whitening with how hard he is gripping the base. “Oh, I...I’m sorry,” he says, careful to keep his voice light. “I didn’t catch you there.”

You’re essentially a stranger to him. A troubled one, at that. You must have your share of problems or you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be crying your eyes out. He doesn’t want to intrude, but he also can’t turn around. Not now, not anymore. You’ve already noticed him.

You sniffle, your hands wiping against the soft skin of your reddened cheeks. For a moment, your heartbeat picks up in speed before returning to its normal rhythm. “It’s alright,” you assure him.

Matt picks up on the faintest hint of disinfectant and the scent of antibacterial soap on you now, maybe a little blood, and definitely antiseptic laundry detergent—you’re wearing medical scrubs.

Your shampoo smells of vanilla and some herbal element he can’t quite identify just yet. Your perfume isn’t expensive, just enough to last through a long shift and filter the sweat that is seeping out of your pores. It’s not unpleasant. You smell like someone who’s been working hard and far past your limits, too.

“Do you need something?” you ask him.

He pauses for a moment, rethinking his answer. His lips purse. He’s not sure how to answer that without completely giving himself away.

Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Oh, just…some peace and quiet,” Matt says, finally finding his voice again. It sounds a bit more nervous than he would like to admit.

The chuckle you exhale is one of surprise and possibly even a bit of genuine amusement. “Yeah,” you sniffle, “I know that feeling.”

“Well, I’ll, uh, leave you to it. Sorry again.”

“No. Don’t.”

Matt stops in his tracks when the words pass your lips.

You pat the space beside you. Your perfume becomes a little clearer. It’s so natural, so… you. He could get high off of it. Or maybe it’s just the sleep deprivation catching up to him.

“This is the only quiet corner in this hospital,” you tell him. “Trust me. Underfunding has its perks for introverts. Rest in peace to about thirty internal medicine beds, but lucky me.”

Your chuckle echoes bitterly off the walls. You use humor to cope, apparently, but you’ve run out of strength to pretend.

His cane begins to gently pave the way as he makes his way forward. “Do you mind?” Matt nods toward the bed you’re sitting on.

You pat the mattress again with a shake of your head. “Not at all.”

Gentle seems to be the one word that is consistent with everything you do. He can’t get this picture he has painted of you based on the sound of your voice out of his head. Maybe you’re an angel and he has officially gone insane, or maybe there are just a lot more good people left in this world than he originally thought.

Matt folds his cane and skillfully sits down on the edge of the mattress. You smell even better up close. Your heartbeat reminds him of a beautiful symphony, no longer as erratic as when he first picked up on your presence.

“I’m Matthew, by the way,” he says.

He can hear a sudden uptick in your heartbeat. He may have just imagined it. You suck in a sharp breath, and he’s sure he didn’t imagine that, but then you lift your hand to take his.

“Olivia,” you say.

Matt listens closely. You have no reason to lie about your name. Your heartbeat may be faster, but it isn’t a lie. You just seem a lot more nervous and unsure than before. It doesn’t quite make sense why you would be unsure about your own name.

“Nice to meet you, Olivia.” His lips curl into a soft smile.

You smile back, he can hear it, but it lacks an essence of truth. You’re trying hard to seem like you’re okay. It’s not your fault that his senses are sensitive to all changes in the human body, even in that of a stranger he just met.

You’ve been crying, so of course, you wouldn’t be alright. The question is, why?

“I take it you’re not part of the staff,” you say into the silence.

“No.” Matt chuckles. “I, uh, have a friend with a dislocated shoulder,” he says.

“Ah! Let me guess, his doctor in the ER reduced the dislocation but insisted on doing an X-ray just in case, so now you have to wait because radiology has a hold-up longer than the Nile?”

A laugh rumbles through his chest. “Yeah, that… that’s pretty accurate.”

“It’s always like this,” you say. “A dislocated shoulder doesn’t have priority. We have bigger fish to fry.”

“You work here?” he dares to ask.

You pull at the bottom of your scrub top. “Guilty as charged. Trauma surgery. I’ve been an attending here for a little over two years now.”

“Oh, wow! That’s…that’s incredible.”

Matt has encountered his fair share of doctors in the past, but no one has ever been quite like you. You’re unique. Mysterious. An enigma. You have piqued his curiosity, to say the least, and your profession only adds to the pile of interesting things he can ponder about.

You smile at him again, but it’s still not a genuine one. “Thanks,” you drag the last syllable out, the air deflating your lungs.

He swallows. “Or it isn’t. I didn’t mean to–”

“No, that’s not… some days just aren’t that rewarding,” you say. “That’s all.”

“And today has been one of those days?” Matt asks.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Your eyes roam over him once again.

He reaches for his hair, running his hand through it. He ruffles the brown strands until they’re covering his left temple. Matt’s not sure if you saw; there is a high chance that you did, but he can't anticipate your behavior. Not yet.

You let out a longer breath. “Not a fan of hospitals, I take it?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “It gets… loud,” he says.

“Sensitivity to sound.” You nod. “Noted.”

He hears the fabric of your scrubs brushing against your skin and the cotton sheets on the bed. You cross your legs, opening yourself up to him just slightly, and he wonders if you really are comfortable around him or if you’re just being kind.

“Probably to smell as well? Feeling? Taste?” There is a soft smile laced in your voice. This time, it’s real.

Matt chuckles. You hit the nail right on the head. You’re simply not aware of how sensitive he is to these things. “Pretty sensitive, yeah,” he says.

That about sums it up. You nod, but you don’t push him any further.

“Well,” you say, “The ER is pretty disgusting. And loud. And to be forced to wait in front of radiology is probably a scenario they offer as a torture device in one of the seven circles of hell.”

He can’t help himself, “It’s nine, actually.”

“Sorry?”

“Nine circles,” Matt clarifies, his lips twitching in a faint grin. “Dante’s Inferno. A good Catholic boy’s guilty pleasure.”

You let out a genuine laugh this time, and it warms his senses. It’s a rare sound in a place filled with so much pain. He can almost hear the weight from your shoulders hit the floor. The tension in the air seems to ease, if only for a moment. You allow to let yourself go.

Your grin turns into a smirk. “Catholic, huh?” you retort.

“Since the day I was born,” he says. “Are you religious?”

That seems to steal your breath away. You have no words. For a full minute, silence settles in between the two of you. It’s almost uncomfortable, and Matt fears he must have crossed a line. He just doesn’t know how to apologize for something he is truly curious about.

The topic of God and religion seems to hit a nerve when it’s not used in a humorous context. There are many reasons why that could be. He spends every day battling his own religious trauma and the demons that he feels he’s harboring deep inside, but he still holds on tight to his faith. If he doesn’t have an excuse—if he doesn’t have anything to hold onto other than what broken self-respect he has left—where would he be?

You finally clear your throat after what feels like an eternity. “No,” it’s a simple answer. “I don’t believe that there is a God.”

Your mouth stays open. You want to say something else, but your lips close within seconds after the thought has passed by you, and you swallow it. He wonders what he could have learned about you if you had allowed yourself to say what you were truly thinking when the words first left your mouth. You’re holding back, and it is audible. It might even be visible. Your cheeks are running hot.

Matt nods. He doesn’t question you. Your beliefs are yours. Most of the time, he doesn’t even believe that there is a God himself.

“It’s hard to keep the faith in this world, especially when you work so hard every day trying to save people’s lives. When you are forced to see what the system does to those who can’t defend themselves over and over again, but you can’t do anything about it. Or when you see what people do to each other. I mean, the cruelty of human beings is unmatched, and it makes you wonder if God is just a sadist, or if maybe he isn’t even real because a gracious God wouldn’t let innocent children die,” you cut yourself off in an instant, and he tilts his head toward you in surprise.

Your breath shudders. “I… I’ve seen too much bad to believe that there is an all-merciful God,” you say. “So I simply don’t.”

You try to meet his eyes, but all you see is your reflection in the red of his rounded glasses. Your heart breaks a little, he can hear it. Your shoulders slump. You’re defeated.

He isn’t sure how to react to that. How to help. How to be a decent human being. Matt just doesn’t have the answers you need, and it makes him question his own faith for a minute. Not that he has ever not questioned it; his relationship with God is as complicated as it gets.

You catch yourself after a moment of staring into the void of his glasses. “But… that’s my opinion. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended,” Matt says.

You were smiling, and now you’re not anymore. He doesn’t like that. He liked it more when you were more open with him. Your legs have moved back to your chest, your arms clinging to them. You’ve retreated.

“Sorry,” you whisper. The edge in your voice breaks his heart.

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I get it. Injustice…it’s a parasite. I’ve encountered my fair share of good people who deserved better than what they got. You try and you fail over and over again because the world isn't fair. I’d be the last person to judge you for not sharing my beliefs.” He breaks off in a chuckle. “I'm not that kind of guy.”

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. “What is that you do again?” You didn’t ask that question before.

“I’m a lawyer,” he states. “Defense attorney.”

“Wow,” you let out a soft puff of air, “And you chose to go to Metro General instead of jumping on the big money train to the Upper East Side?”

Although your tone is joking, Matt can tell that there is an ounce of truth in your words.

He hides his laugh behind a cough. He’s not sure if he’s surprised or if he actually finds that assumption hilarious. Maybe a bit of both.

“Oh, no.” He shakes his head. “I have never even been in the same station as the big money train.”

“Oh?”

“No. We, my partner and I, do pro-bono work. We don't get paid for our services. Well, other than baked goods and overdue bills in the mail, of course.”

You chuckle. “That’s a relief. Not so much for your bank account, but ethically.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry for assuming. That was prejudiced of me,” you say. “I’m not trying to judge you. I’m sorry. Rich or not, it’s none of my business.”

Matt shrugs. “It's okay. Lawyers and doctors are the two professions so many think make millions of Dollars a year, and while that may be the case for a few, a lot of us just… don’t,” he says.

“Amen! If I had a drink, I’d toast to that.”

“Yeah, well, an intoxicated doctor would not fare well in the legal sense.”

“You think that would end my career?”

“I can’t even give you good legal advice other than, don’t.”

Your giggle turns into a laugh. “Thank you for the advice, counselor.”

He joins in. “Anytime.”

For a moment, only the two of you exist. Matt adjusts his position, but he doesn’t take his bruised ribs into account. His wince is barely audible, yet you notice it in an instant. And when his hair slips, you can see the gash on his forehead. The one he tried to stitch up himself but probably did an awful job at concealing.

Your eyes narrow in concern. “What happened to you?” your voice barely breeches the sound barrier.

“Oh, nothing,” he tries to shrug it off. “Just an accident.”

“An accident?”

“I am blind, you know. I tripped, hit my head. It happens.”

“Hm.” Much to his surprise, you don’t press him further. Instead, you gently reach out to brush the sweaty strand of hair from his face that he used to cover up the aftermath of his latest endeavor.

Now that he thinks about it, his ribs really do hurt. He’s sure nothing is broken, but they are severely bruised. Even he can feel the blood pooling under the skin.

You bite your lip, not wanting to pry. The urge is obvious to him, but only to him. You’re good at your job. You focus on the task at hand. That is probably why you became a doctor in the first place; to help people, not to pry.

But Matt Murdock doesn’t need help.

“It’s fine,” he assures you.

You nod. “I believe you.”

You don’t. You’re lying. He appreciates the effort though. You try your best at making him feel comfortable and welcome. Asking questions would only drive him away; you wouldn’t be able to satiate your pathological need to help. It’s who you are.

“Whoever patched this up did a terrible job,” you say, “and I don’t want to know who did it because if you tell me it was you, I will lose my mind, so, I choose to believe you for the sake of my own sanity.”

His lips part in a soft laugh. “Yeah, you don't wanna know,” he says.

“Can I fix it?"

He opens his mouth to decline, “You don’t have to, I–”

“Please.”

There is no arguing with you, it seems.

Your footsteps echo in the empty hallway. One of the drawers in the cart across from the bed slides open at your touch. Matt can hear the distinct crinkle of packaging and the clanking of metal. When you return to his side, your steps are a little heavier.

“I’m going to clean the wound and then apply a butterfly bandage to help the skin grow back together,” you explain. “The cut isn't that deep, but you must’ve hit your head pretty hard when you fell. I can’t force you to get a head CT, so… If you experience any nausea or neurological deficits in the next few days, you should come back to run some tests. But—and that is not my expert medical opinion because I don’t have the tests to back it up—I think it should be fine to heal on its own.”

“Any other advice, Doc?” he jokes.

“Well, I can’t give the same good news about your bruised ribs.” You only have to place your hand on his side and his lips come to press tightly together. “I’m guessing third and fourth,” you say. “If one of them is fractured, it makes you run at risk for internal bleeding, but to see the extent of your injuries, we’d have to get an MRI. That is not my call to make. I can’t force you to get your battle scars checked out, I can just advise you to think about it. Really think about it.”

Matt sighs. His laughter has long died. “I know.”

He doesn’t want to repeat himself. He’s fine. He has to pretend that he’s fine because he doesn’t have time for doctors or questions. Neither you nor the law can protect him from the damage that the truth would do.

You’re disappointed, but you swallow your pride. With delicate precision, you start cleaning the wound on his forehead, the cotton swab dabbing at the dried blood. He winces at the sting of antiseptic, a subtle twitch in response to the pain.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

Matt manages a half-smile. “It’s alright. I’ve had worse.”

That doesn’t make you feel better, but you accept it. You’ve learned to respect your patients’ wishes, even if that means swallowing a lie.

As you work, your fingers graze over his skin with a careful tenderness. It’s a stark contrast to the harshness of the world he navigates outside—a double-edged sword. If he doesn’t go out there, more people die or get hurt. He would sustain the same injuries over and over again and almost die rather than pretend that evil isn’t lurking right outside his window every night. And there is a bigger storm brewing in the distance, one he isn’t fully prepared for.

Yet.

You finish cleaning the wound and proceed to carefully apply a fresh bandage. Matt can feel the cool adhesive against his skin. Your touch is soothing, almost comforting, and he allows himself to relax.

“There,” you announce softly. “All patched up.”

Matt lifts his hand to touch the bandage, a habit he developed over the years to reassure himself that someone cared enough to tend to his wounds. “Thank you,” he answers.

“No biggie.” You shrug with a tiny smile, and that makes him smile, too. It shows him that while you are displeased with his lack of respect for himself and his health, you aren’t mad at him. You just care.

The shrill beeping of your pager tears a headache through his skull.

You curse under your breath. “I’m so sorry,” you say as you skim over the text that has been sent to you. “The, uh—the ER needs me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he quickly responds.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go. Save a life!”

You’re reluctant at first, but then your lips curl into a broader, more genuine smile, and in the heat of the moment, you grab his hand. “It was nice meeting you, Matthew,” you say. “Take care of yourself.”

Your footsteps retreat and your heartbeat gets fainter as you walk down the hallway. He’s speechless. He doesn’t even remember how to say goodbye.

“Oh, and do me a favor?” You stop momentarily just to ask him, “Get those ribs checked out?”

His mouth opens and closes like that of a fish on dry land. “Sure,” he says.

“Thank you,” these are your last words to him before you take off running.

Both of you know though that once he is out of Metro General and on his way home, he won’t come back. Not for himself, at least. And it is something you have to accept as much as he has to accept the fact that you are long gone, off to save a life in the very four walls that seemed so scary to him all alone only fifteen minutes ago.

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