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pagesfromthevoid · 2 years

Note

You have fucking killed again omg you write Matt so well! False God is my new obsession and I’m not even mad about it! Thank you for being so amazing!

False God | m.m. | 3

Matt Murdock x Avenger!reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Language. Mentions of suicide. Explanations of torture and murder. Blood. Mentions of Matt sitting like a whore (he does??)

Author’s Note: Just because this was so sweet, here’s part three. It was a fucking RIDE.

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“I really need to leave,” Matt insisted, running his hands over his face in frustration.

“You can barely walk,” she reminded him, walking into the living room with two cups of coffee. She set hers down, then held out the cup to him. Testing him.

“I can hear your movements,” he answered her unspoken question as he took the cup from her.

Her eyes narrowed some, watching him as she sat down. He set the cup down on the table and leaned back into the arm of the couch, closing his eyes. He was in Sam’s hoodie —one of few that she had stolen and just not given back —and sweatpants, legs spread like he owned the place.

“You sit like a whore,” she commented, instead of responding to his explanation.

Matt immediately closed his legs and frowned. She couldn’t help but laugh at his sudden self-consciousness. This wasn’t the time to be playing around, but she didn’t want to ruin what normalcy Matt once had. He was so normal compared to everything in her life and suddenly he just. Wasn’t. But this was a serious moment. He was a vigilante who killed people. She shouldn’t be laughing and joking with him. Shouldn’t be admiring that, yeah, he sat like a whore but it was kind of hot.

“If you can hear my movements, what else can you do?” She asked finally, taking her cup back into her hands. Her legs crossed under her as she waited.

Matt took a breath, considering how to respond. As if he’s never had to explain to people why he could do the things he did. “I lost my sight as a kid, in an accident. I can’t see, truly,” he started, sitting up now to face her. She rested the cup in her hands in her lap, watching him. “But with the loss of my sight…everything else heightened. And not just a little; everything was turned up to an eleven. I…could hear everything. Smell everything. It’s…it’s complicated.” He let out a heavy breath, shaking his head. “I can remember what things were like before I lost my sight; and using that knowledge with how heightened everything is…it’s like I can see it but it’s a terrible painting. Impressionist like and it’s on fire constantly —“

“You expect me to believe that?” She countered, frowning deeply. “You expect me to believe any of this?”

Steve had sharpened senses; and Thor’s had been better than humans just because he was from Asgard. She shouldn’t have such a hard time believing him. But Matt Murdock…he was a normal man. He was human. He didn’t have a healing factor, he wasn’t a super soldier. He was just…he was just a lawyer. He wasn’t like her, or Natasha or Steve. He didn’t have a suit like Spider-Man or Tony. Matt was doing this with his bare hands and a mask.

And that was what she had such a hard time believing. A regular man was out there, beating the shit out of criminals in Hell’s Kitchen.

“You said you can read my mind,” he pointed out, though his tone was reluctant. Like he really didn’t want her to do it. “If that’s…the only way you’ll believe me…then do it.”

The silence between them lingered as she considered poking into his mind. It was just a switch she could turn on and off. Something that she only used when absolutely necessary for missions. And it wasn’t even the coolest thing about her abilities. But he very clearly didn’t want her to; and she knew that once she was in, there was a chance that she’d see too much. See more than what he wanted her to see.

“Say I do believe you,” she started, processing her thoughts as she spoke. “And you really do just…have superhuman senses. I just need to know why you’re doing this.” She motioned over him, where the blood and bruises were cleaned up but still visible. Where blood was still smeared on her couch from when he first came in. “Why risk your life when you’re not a superhuman, with healing abilities or more than a man with a pair of fists?”

“I can feel everything,” he repeated, voice quiet. “Hear everything. Every little vibration, every breath. I could hear your heart racing when we walked home today —but I can hear a man outside, right now, finding that body. And now he’s dialing 911.” There was a pause, and she watched him like he was lying. “He’s still, alive by the way. He landed on a pile of trash, it broke his fall. Breathing, sort of. I don’t…I don’t kill people. Not intentionally, at least.” She frowned deeply, about to object that there’s no way for him to know that but Matt continued. “The police response time varies but it’s a severely injured person, so give them five minutes and I’ll be able to hear them three blocks away.” She glanced out the window, breath hitching some as she considered the possible consequences of tonight. The thought alarmed her; she wasn’t doing anything wrong but... “I heard that. Your breath, the panic you’re feeling. I can hear your heart right now.”

She looked back at him, brow furrowing as she realized that he had to be telling the truth. “That doesn’t explain why, though.”

“The same reason I became a lawyer,” he finally admitted. “To help the people who really need it. The police, the judiciary process…they’re doing it. Not right, anyway. So I have to.”

“You almost died tonight,” she pointed out, adjusting to set her coffee mug down. “Is that really worth all of this?”

He just shrugged in response, then suddenly perked up. “The police will be here soon; they’re planning on going door to door. Agent Woo is coming up now as well,” he explained, slowly standing up. “I need to go —“

“No, Jimmy isn’t here I thought? And you can’t just leave now. That’ll be so sketchy.”

There was a knock on her door then. “Miss, I need you to open up. It’s Woo.”

She looked back at Matt, frowning deeply. “I don’t like that you knew that.” Matt shrugged as she stood and motioned for him to sit down. He hesitated but followed her order as she considered how to make this seem less suspicious. “Unzip your hoodie. And sit like a whore again.”

“What?”

“Trust me. He gets uncomfortable super easily.”

She pulled her T-shirt off, exposing the sports bra she wore, then pulled her hair down. Matt followed her orders with ease, spreading his legs out in front of him. She stared for a moment, caught off guard by how well built he was. Of course he was. He was a vigilante. But how was this even fair? Charming, funny, and properly hot? Maybe God was real.

“You can stare later, just open the door.”

“Fuck you,” she snapped at him as she finally opened the door. “What do you want?” She demanded.

Jimmy looked down almost immediately, turning red. “Why are you shirtless —it doesn’t matter. There’s an unconscious man outside the building and the police are on their way.” Jimmy pushed himself through her door, making his way inside.

“If you’re here to blame me, I swear to god, Jimmy. I thought we were friends.”

“Well, were you involved?” He asked, brow raised. “And we aren’t.”

“Rude,” she commented, crossing her arms over her chest. Then she nodded towards the living room. “If you looked to your left, you’d realize the answer to both your questions.”

Jimmy frowned and looked over, finally noticing that Matt was sitting there. The agent stuttered, shaking his head as he backed up towards the door. “Oh god, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you had company —Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. If you don’t need a superhero, please get out so we can continue our evening,” she shooed him out the door, giving him a smirk as she started shutting the door on him.

“Nope. We’re good. I’m good. Thanks,” he hurried out the door, calling out that she was cleared.

Once he was gone and the door was shut, she picked her shirt up and pulled it back on. Her hair tie disappeared somewhere in the house and she didn’t bother to look for it, returning to her seat on the couch. Matt had sat up properly again, still self-conscious of her whore comparison probably.

“How did you know he wouldn’t look too closely?” He asked, brow raised.

“Every time I need to go to the store, I tell him it’s because I’m on my period and then explain how my cycle works. He hates it,” she explained, grinning smugly from how easily she manipulated the agent. “Old trick I learned from Natasha.”

“You’re a terrible person,” he laughed.

“Rich coming from the lawyer who not only lied to my agent not once, but twice —and goes around beating the life out of people.”

“We can make one of those lies a truth,” he countered, grinning at her now. “I could feel you staring at me, you know. I don’t need heightened senses to know that.”

She scoffed, though she was thankful for the flirty comments returning. “As tempting as that is,” and it very much was, “You have three broken ribs and several open wounds. Not only do I not want blood on my sheets, but I’d feel bad if I hurt you any further.”

He nodded some, agreeing with her after considering how fucked up he was from tonight. “I suppose that’s fair.”

“And we hardly know each other,” she continued, though now she was just trying to fill the empty space with anything but the thought of her taking advantage of his legs spread. Or the thought of him shirtless, sitting on her couch, tempting her to make a move.

“I told you about me,” he pointed out, leaning back into the couch to relief the pressure on his wounds. “You can read minds. What happened there?”

“Actually, you know, I can get new sheets —“

He laughed again, full and sincere, and shook his head. “Nope. Come on, you forced me to tell you who I was.”

She groaned and fell back into the couch, feigning a tantrum as Matt continued to laugh at her. “It’s just. It’s so fucking complicated,” she admitted. “I have to lay on the ground if I’m going to explain this to you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I get overwhelmed when I talk about it and the ground is cold and solid and it keeps me from panicking.”

It was strange, admitting to him what took her therapist weeks to get out of her.

“Do you lay on the floor when you talk to your therapist?” He asked as she got up and sat on the hardwood of the apartment. He hesitated and followed suit, sitting beside her.

“You don’t have to sit on the floor —“

“I want to.”

She watched him for a moment then laid on her back, looking up at the ceiling. “Sometimes I do. Only when they have us talk about what happened to me.” He nodded some, slowly laying down beside her.

Knowing what he could do now, she was suddenly self aware that her heart was pounding in her chest and he could hear it. That he could tell that she didn’t actually want to tell him about herself; that the thought of it alone stressed her out. But she took a deep breath, calming herself down.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he murmured, but she shook her head.

“No, give me a second,” she whispered back, closing her eyes to gather herself. “So uh, I was pretty normal for a while. No powers, nothing cool to note about me. Divorced parents, only child. You know. Normal,” she started to explain, fiddling with her fingers as she spoke. “It was right after my tenth birthday, my dad showed up one night to take me over for his custody time. And then he just…he kept me. I was too young to understand that what he was doing was kidnapping me, but I figured it out when he took me to this lab.

“My dad had started working for this guy —Loxias Crown, he’s a HYDRA scientist —who was trying recreate the super soldier serum,” she raised her hand to look it over, frowning some. It was shaking, and she knew that the longer she spoke, the more likely she was to have a panic attack. “I don’t know why HYDRA was so obsessed with that stupid serum. But Crown needed human test subjects because he kept killing them. I don’t know why my dad decided to use me. Maybe it was a debt, maybe it was to get back at my mom. Regardless, the moment Crown saw that I had telepathic abilities, he killed my dad. It was the first time I saw someone die.

“It was years of experiments and needles and IVs, until I was sixteen. It was then that Natasha had infiltrated the warehouse I was being kept in and SHIELD saved me. Turns out I wasn’t the only person there.”

She took a deep breath, hands shaking as she covered her face. Matt reached over, taking one of her hands in his and holding it against his chest. Her heart pounded in her ears, feeling ready to pop. Honestly she wished it was because he was holding her hand. Wished so bad it was from being nervous that he was touching her. But the panic came from thinking about her dad, about his body.

“It somehow only got worse though,” she continued, voice shaking as she did. “I went home —back to my mom. Only to find out that…she had killed herself. She lost her only child, with no trace. She just couldn’t keep going. And so I had a house full of memories of a ten year old but I was sixteen with no family, and powers that I didn’t know how to shut off. You can hear everyone talking —I could hear everyone thinking. And people think terrible fucking things, Matt.”

“I know.”

She glanced at him, where he still held her hand against his chest. His heart had picked up as well, and she wondered if it was because of worry for her.

“All I had was a calling card for Natasha Romanoff and SHIELD, and that’s where I ended up. That was five years before Loki, and all that shit. I had a little bit of time before they needed me but…but then I started training, and I became stronger. And then the world needed me.”

His grip on her hand tightened some as he waited for her to speak. But she didn’t continue. “Is it just mind reading, then?” He asked, lacing their fingers together against his chest.

“I can…,” she didn’t know how to explain what could do. It was much more complicated than reading minds. “I think it’s easier if I show you.”

“I can’t see, you remember that, right?” He joked but she sat up, pulling him up with her.

“Just…just trust me, okay?”

He waited, hand still clinging to hers.

She took a breath and closed her eyes. “You’re going to feel overwhelmed for a second —probably even more than most people do if your senses are heightened. Just take a deep breath and close your eyes for me.”

He nodded and followed her directions. Around her, the room shifted just slightly. Just enough for her to notice but anyone else would think it was a trick of the mind. She took his other hand, holding it tight as his senses went into overdrive for a second. His grip tightened, taking a breath of his own.

“Open your eyes,” she whispered.

What happened when Matt opened his eyes was…it was terrifying, honestly. What was usually a room on fire was clear as day. Bright blues and greens littered his vision, and he released her hands from the shock. Soft lighting, mixed with fairy lights that hung in corners. Shelves full of books, and windows that showed the night sky shining through, with city lights peering inside.

“What did you —“

“Matt, look at me,” she grabbed his hands again, drawing his attention.

His heart almost stopped. He was certain that he was dying, because he could see her. Sitting in front of him, wearing a worn out band T-shirt. Beautiful eyes stared back at him and a bright smile.

“I can see you,” he finally said, reaching up to touch her face. “You are…far more beautiful than I could have even imagined. God help my soul.”

She felt her cheeks get hot, and she looked down for a moment. But he wouldn’t let her, taking in every little detail he could. Memorizing everything he could about the moment. What she looked like, what she wore. Her smile and her eyes and her hair. The lines around her eyes when she smiled, and the dimple in her cheek. He noted the scar on her chin, no doubt from fighting. Every little thing; he needed to remember.

“It’s not…it’s not real,” she admitted with a sad sigh. “I can…I can implant memories or thoughts into your head. So I just…I showed you what I see in my apartment. What I know I look like. Makes me a hell of a spy, though.”

The scene glitched suddenly, as if she couldn’t control it, and the vision before him disappeared. The world was on fire again, and she was gone. Matt’s hands dropped into his lap, staring at her through the fiery vision that he was so used to now. There they sat, staring at one another but not really. His hands reached out and took hers again, holding them in his lap.

“I…I don’t have words to describe how that felt,” he began, instinctively looking down at their hands. “But I am…so glad you showed me.”

“Honestly I just wanted you to see what I looked like.”

They both laughed, sharing a this moment that was almost too good to be true. After a few minutes of laughter, leaning into each other, and just being there, the two calmed down. It was Matt who spoke up first.

“Okay, yeah, I’m gonna kiss you now.”

She laughed again, a nervous yet excited laugh, as he reached up and pulled her by her chin into his space. Their lips met and she returned the kiss with maybe a little too much enthusiasm, smiling into it. Matt deepened after a moment before he pulled away, kissing her cheek as she leaned into him.

“God, I can’t get over how beautiful you are.”

———

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#matt murdock imagine #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil x reader #daredevil

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lilkermit14 · 3 years

Text

Lavender & Mint

Fem!reader x Pero Tovar

Synposis: In the conventional village of Cullfield lived an unconventional woman who served as an apothecary for the townsfolk. Stubborn and set in her ways, the woman of three tens remains unmarried and childless and plans to continue as such for the rest of her life, much to the horror and confusion of the village. But this unconventional woman has some surprises in store for her when an unconventional man named Pero Tovar rides into town, an event that will change both her and his plans forever—and may flip Cullfield upside down too.

Notes: Idk why I kept mentioning poop complications this chapter but I’m sorry and enjoy. It’s been a while but the CHAPTER is here. Please reblog!!!!

General Warnings: minor injuries, slow-burn, eventual smut, blood, childbirth

For this chapter: Non-sexual references to poop, mention pregnancy, murder, implicit brief reference to infanticide or child abandonment, pre-marital pregnancy and it’s complications in the 1400s, religious “morals”.

Chapter 5: Garlic

Last chapter // Next chapter

“When was the last time you passed bowels, Mister Ashdown?” you inquire, pressing on the old man’s stomach knowing you have found the root cause of his stomach issues. He blinks for a moment thinking as he lays on your observation table, before telling you, “quite some time I’m afraid.”

“I see,” you move your hands away putting your hands on your hips, “well, it seems that you just have a case of constipation––burdensome but not something hard to fix or that will have you laying on your deathbed.”

“You sure?” he asks, almost confused, moving to rise up from the table by himself only for you to come to his assistance. You clarify yourself, “Yes, you have many signs that point to it. It can be caused by a lack of competitive foods in your diet and is more likely with old age.”

“I’m not that old,” He interjects, but you compete, “Yes, but you're old enough for a blockage sir––you’ll be glad to know you’ll live to be truly old as long the burden is treated.”

He huffs now in a sitting position with legs dangling from the table, “so what do you have so i’ll shit.”

You huff at his language, “standard garlic will help move the process along, and I’m suggesting you make sure to eat more greens and berries to clear your system.”

You always assumed that you were let free to discuss any matters with your patients when they were the only ones in the shop, as no one else resided in your residence besides you. But that arrangement had changed and you were not the only one that resided in your home, “If my cock and bowels stop working just have someone put me out of my misery.”

You turn rigid and scandalized to see the face of Pero Tovar standing in your back entrance of the shop—entered unbeknownst to you through quiet steps and a lack of clear view. Mister Ashdown has no qualms defending himself, “I’m only five tens and if my cock doesn’t work how is my wife pregnant?”

You want to scream having to hear this conversation and did certainly not want to be reminded of the conversations you were subjected to by Farrah Ashdown. When the woman at four tens and five found out she was pregnant she spared no expense in telling you how it happened. You opted to rush him along before you could get his account of what he does with his wife, “okay sir here’s your supply get going now.”

“Enjoy the shit,” you hear Pero say and before mister ashdown can respond he is out your door. You turn to Pero fury and rage evident on your face as you are prepared to let the flames of hell loose on him. All he has is a stupid look on his face as he lets out the word, “what?”

“You bastard,” you begin pointing your finger at him moving towards him with menace in your voice towards a man that stands unbothered, “you do not talk to ANY of my clients in such manner especially in my shop.”

“Why is that hermosa? I would be rude to that man outside of your business, what makes your apothecary different?” He queries again with that name, only increasing your anger and distaste for him at the moment. With clenched teeth, you answer him, “I don’t care what you say to Mister Ashdown in town, but my shop is a place of respect––a place where anyone can come for health problems even if they are embarrassing. I want people to know they won’t be judged here because if they feel like they will be, they will come when it’s too late and I can’t do anything for them.”

Pero raises his brow at you, but lets you continue your rant uninterrupted, “When my mother was still alive, a young woman at ten and six came to us complaining of diarrhea, something she was embarrassed to talk about because it was gross and she did not want suitors to find out. Turns out she had sickness from a miasma––we took one look down the town well and discovered a deer had fallen in and died overnight.”

“That was lucky,” he comments, still invested in your story despite the vile nature of talking about excretion. You continue, “Yes, and we may not have caught it so soon if she didn’t come to us. The sickness is fast acting, in hours many more villagers could have been sick, but it was only her––and she lived.”

“Lived?” you smile at his question feeling pride at the healing powers your mom had and hope you live up to, “Yes, the sickness causes dehydration quickly but if you keep the person well hydrated and area clean to prevent reinfection––they will live. This summer she gave birth to her third child at my aid.”

“So their trust is important to you?” you give him a simple nod, glad he is understanding what you were asking of him. You turn to clean up the materials you had brought out to examine Mister Ashdown, not realizing that Pero was not done with questions, “Like how that woman came to you the other day crying in distress?”

You freeze––you had really thought the interest in Mariam had ended when William had first asked you about her the day after asking if she was okay. You nodded and told him it was just feminine needs and didn’t serve much interest in men, something that usually turned men away from asking questions. Well not Pero Tovar I guess, “Why was she crying?”

“It’s a complicated matt––”

“Things of safety are something I have to worry about you know,” He interjects, and you turn your head looking at him to see something serious cross his face, “I have to keep everyone in this village safe––you in particular hermosa––and I want to know if theres something you need to tell me.”

“Part of gaining trust is not telling personal information,” you counter, pulling together to formulate a lie, “It’s nothing of safety she was upset about something––she’s a friend of sorts to me.”

You can tell he doesn’t buy it––he can probably pull the full story together even though you doubt he’s heard a single thing about Mariam’s husband beating her––but he accepts, slouching and learning against a table in thought, “William and I may go for a short hunt––there's not much action in this town I’m afraid and we could use some fresh game.”

You nod, “If you catch any pigeon, I know how to handle it so it's not gamey.”

He huffs, “We're not very good hunters I’m afraid, so you’ll probably only get that or rabbit.”

–––––––––––––––––––

Pero Tovar had useful traits to him––like getting you pigeons––but he was mostly an annoyance. His mere presence always had you on edge, as you waited for something, something from him. It was usually something he said but if not it was his scent or stench rather of pine and something that was him. It was also his sloppy manner, the way he seemed raised with no table manners as he ate all your meals. He spoiled Mite, petting him and feeding him table scraps much to your despair. He was also too loud, his boots filling up the cottage and shop with noise, something that never usually happened.

You lent some time today to make more bread for the household, settling at your dining table and working the necessary ingredients for dough together. Mite lays in the corner, not doing his job as per usual and watching you with some sort of interest in the mannerisms of bread making, but he was likely just hoping for more food in the future. Kneading dough you begin to imagine the dough is Pero kneading your frustration into it. You press and it is his stupid broad shoulders that take up too much space. You pull, it’s the curls on the nape of his neck that are too unruly and untidy. You slam it down, it’s that stupid smile that appears on his face when you have entertained him. God you hate Pero Tovar.

“You may want to stop before you overwork the dough sweetheart,” You stop and see Mildred Becker staring at you with an amused look on her face. You huff Jesus, what does she want, “Sorry for my state, I didn’t hear you enter.”

“Don’t worry I understand too well––I always work out my anger into the dough,” you chuckle a little thinking about how a woman with too many children works out anger the same way as you––you definitely hate Pero Tovar, “I just stopped by because I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

You perk up, “Is Cateline suffering from baby blues again.”

“No, No thank the lord––we’ve been watching over her better this time,” Mildred rounds off, and you remember despite the grievances she gives you, she is a good mother to her children. She was the first to notice that something was wrong with her daughter after the birth and came to you to talk about it. From there Cateline was able to recover and enjoy motherhood, “Something with your house guest Pero Tovar has come to my attention.”

“What did he do,” You ask, prepared to beat Pero Tovar with your broom, but Mildred settles you, “nothing he did, just something someone is doing around him.”

You raise your brow at her beckoning her to continue, “You know Stanislava Rolfe?”

“Of course,” you affirm, surprised she is asking you such a question when you have treated everyone in Cullfield five times over. Mildred continues, “Yes well, She has begun to work at the Inn as a barmaid––she did well with charming Balthasar I guess.”

You were wondering why a poor farmer's daughter’s career path interested you, but you didn’t interject, “I happened to take a quick ale there with my husband, when I noticed something with her and Pero Tovar. You see she appeared extra flirtatious with him––and although barmaids usually are flirty with men in hopes for extra coin, it was more intentional.”

You frown, how could such a beautiful young girl be interested in such a disgusting brute, “Why is she interested in him?”

“Who knows? Many of the girls around Cullfield were excited to see unfamiliar battle-hardened men I supposed,” She ponders for a moment, “all we do know is that she is likely interested in him.”

“I don’t think he is interested in taking a wife,” You contest, brushing aside that Pero would have feelings for the young girl of two tens. Mildred just gives you a hardened stare, “He doesn’t have to be interested in matrimony to want something from her.”

“Was he showing interest back?” you dig trying to figure out the full extent of what you are formulating must be a whirlwind romance. Mildred hums, “no I suppose not, but sometimes men take persistent interest as a way to have a good time.”

You bite your lip remembering that Pero did not fornicate with prostitutes but barmaids, and feel a ball of ache and pain in your stomach at the thought. Mildred instates, “I came to you about this because I want you to try to stop it.”

“Stop it?”

“Yes, make it clear he is to not have such guests,” Mildred explains, and you can tell by her tone and expression you are in for some sort of story, “You know well enough that things go arigh when an unmarried woman gets pregnant, right.”

“Of course,” you remember the chaos that erupted in families when one of their daughters ended up pregnant, and the hasty weddings that came from it. But Mildred had a different story, “although most of the time it gets swept under the rug with a quick marriage and everyone just chooses to ignore it––horrid things can happen when there's not one.”

Mildred sits down at the nearby table, in clear thought of something dark and you go to sit down at a nearby chair, “When I was about ten and eight, and old enough to understand these things, a girl was taken advantage of by a soldier in our village. She was ten and six, and him far older so he should have had the wisdom not to mess with her. What mattered was after it happened, he left with his troop and was never seen in my home village again. She got pregnant, and tried to hide it at first––her mom was dead and she had no older sisters or aunts to go to, so she was afraid to go to her father. When it became too obvious, hate inspired awful things in the leaders of the village, and by the time she gave birth it accumulated.”

Mildred takes a moment to pause, emotions brewing inside her and you feel yourself frozen in place, “she tried to talk to them, pleading, saying he pressured her––persuaded her, but they all pointed and said witch and condemned her son too. She was burn’t at the stake, and her son––well he was never seen again.”

A pause fills the air as you sit in shock, digesting what Mildred has told you, “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

Mildred huffs, “I’m sorry too, I made sure to get a husband that would get me out of that village and landed a good one on the way––I had seen what that village did to women and children for the sake of moral value and did not intend to stay so my daughters could see too. Adultery is a two person crime that only one party, the feminine one, receives punishment for.”

“So that's why Pero and Stanislava are of such concern to you?” You assume, and Mildred nods, “Although I think Cullfield is of better standing, I don’t desire to find out what they would do if such a case erupted. The girl may be doing this because she intends to capture a man with a better job, but mercenaries rest for a few women and not those of ten and eight.”

“I can understand her intentions I suppose,” you contemplate, believing that she doesn’t hold much true interest in him, but for a better life. Mildred hums, “so is there a chance you can talk to Pero about it?”

“I already established that he is to not bring guests into my home, and I doubt they would find a secluded enough place otherwise,” you reassure, standing up, “I can even remind him today if you would like.”

“That would be good,” Mildred agrees, joining you in standing and allowing you to guide her to the door, “be on the lookout too if you see her come preying––even though he lacks true interest.”

“I will,” you say, and somewhere in your heart you feel prepared to beat Stanislava Rolfe with your broom instead of Pero.

________________

Gardening was no easy task but it was the most necessary task the runner of an apothecary and a household had. Today your tending to crops was more focused on your food supply rather than collecting the necessary ingredients to keep your shop running. You're pleased to see that the last of your harvest grew well, and know that your winter stock will last even with your house guest. You had already pulled out all the carrots, and beets, and had shucked the vines wounding your house of beans and brussel sprouts. You were now left to work at the tough vines of the gourds and squash, planning on leaving the single pumpkin for Pero to handle––who should be on his way home from helping Balthasar with something at his inn.

Standing up with the final gourd in hand––you see something that fills you with immediate displeasure and sickens you to your core. Pero is walking up to your house pursued by Stanislava. You don’t quite know why you feel this angry at him; maybe it’s because you gave him explicit reminders on conduct or maybe––something else. Seeing the near, and well hearing Stanislava, you attempt to think fast to try to get her to leave. Greeting them both in an unnatural kind manner, “Pero, Stanislava, greetings.”

Pero gives you an immediate strange look while his shadow is oblivious and greets you back, “I was just telling Pero this wonderful stor––”

“Oh I must ask how is your rash healing up,” You feel like clapping your hands over your lips the moment the words fly out of your mouth. Stanislava stops in her tracks staring at you blankly, “what?”

“The one I gave you the ointment for––on your groin,” Oh my God what were you doing.

Stanislava turns bright red, “Good thank you––I––I have things to tend to at home, good evening you two.”

Stanislava hurries off, and an amused smile erupts on Pero’s face, “thank you for finally scaring that crow off––she’s been yapping my ear off with nonsense for weeks––I guess you're my scarecrow.”

“Excuse me?” scarecrow, you were going to kill this man. He smiles, a genuine smile, “Yes you scared off my crow––like a scarecrow would. Plus you're covered in leaves right now.”

“Do not call me that”

“Fine mi espantapájaros”

“I swear I’ll smother you in your sleep”

“Is that a true promise for you? Like how you promised not to tell customers private information yet just shouted about the crow’s crotch rash,” at that your body works on it’s own, taking the gourd in your hand and flinging it at Pero’s chest. It was a magnificent shot, and caused the vegetable to break and splatter it’s internal organs onto Pero’s chest and neck. Pero steps back from the impact and looks down on the goop he’s now covered in, “Now, no good espantapájaros does that.”

You press your palm to your face, “Just cut the pumpkin for me and bring it inside, you could use a good bath anyway, your stench is disgusting.”

“I do not smell,” he retorts, and you ignore him, bringing inside your harvest. You really do hate Pero Tovar.

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

Apothecary’s feelings––hate or nah yall?

Garlic is use to treat a lot of ailments in Arab traditional medicine, including heart disease, high blood pressure, arthritis, toothache, infections, and––as seen in this fic––constipation. Listen, I know the constipation part is true because I ate a pesto made with raw garlic and LORD did I shit. Anything else, not quite sure but hey worth a shot if you are desperate.

It is also seen as an immune booster for colds and coughs––in fact if you are congested from a cold putting a clove of garlic in each nostril can clear that shit OUT.

Garlic is also believed to help asthma symptoms. IDK if it actually is true but that’d be iconic because my mom loves garlic and she has asthma.

Garlic is my favorite seasoning. I put it in my soup. I put it in my eggs. I put it in my ramen. I put it in my burgers. I put it in my cooch––

taglist:

@poenariuniverse @harleyamidala @yespolkadotkitty @storiesofthefandomlovers @babybelou @legally-a-bastard @computeringturtle @clydesducktape @sixties-loser @buckysalefty @april-14-blog @prettylittlegoldfish @softpedropascal @maybege

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libraryofloveletters · 4 years

Note

you should do an opposite to hurt where Matt's secret girlfriend works in the medical field and matt comes in one day as he hurt in the field where the reader is upset with him and they also relieve their relationship to the team. mostly fluff and some angst with prompt 7.

Relief

Matt Simmons x Reader

Prompt #7: “Hear me out” “Why the fuck should I listen to you”

Warnings: fem!reader, cursing, mentions of injuries and blood, fighting

Category: angst/fluff

Word Count: 1.7k (I got a little carried away)

Author’s Note: you can read hurt for some backstory but it isn’t necessary. This can be read by itself.

Hurt (backstory)

Healed (pt.2!)

------

It’s been a few months since you’ve gotten shot, Emily suggested you take some time off and with Matt forcing you, you didn’t have much of a choice. The team had seen the two of you in your hospital room so they knew the two of you were close, but how close ? They weren't exactly sure.

You had been working at the hospital, something you loved doing until the FBI recruited you. You and Emily were friends since you were children and she asked you to fill in for Spencer while he was in prison. She knew your medical background would be useful to them. She was also the reason you even met Matt in the first place.

Since you’ve been back at the hospital, you’ve had a few drop ins from Spencer and Luke if they were here to see the medical examiner. Penelope has stopped by every once in a while to get lunch with your or just to fill you in on office gossip.

----

Today was a quiet day, only a few people came through to the emergency room. A few cases of the stomach bug, a broken arm and a small fracture on a little boy who ran into the tree playing tag. You were signing off on some medication orders when the doors to the ER opened.

Two paramedics rolled in a stretcher with someone on it. You stood up to see who it was, Luke came running in after them.

“Y/n! Did Penelope call you ?”

“Luke! No, I'm working tonight, what happened ?”

You rounded the counter as he walked over to you, “It’s Matt, he got shot. I don't know what else happened, they pulled him into the ambulance before I could follow. I came with the SUV” You didn’t even wait to hear what else he said before you ran down the hallway to find him. “Matt!” you shouted as you ran into the room, it’s not like he could answer you but you hoped he was alright.

“We’ve got to get him up to the OR, he’s got a broken femur and some internal bleeding. We need to take the bullet out” you nodded, letting them wheel him away to the OR. You knew you couldn’t be in there, they wouldn't let you. You were too close to him for them to let you in. You stood there watching until you couldn't see them anymore, Luke found you standing in the middle of the hallway. You weren’t moving, your face was expressionless. “y/n..” he stepped in front of you, you broke down in his arms. “Hey, he’ll be okay. He’ll pull through” Luke held you and rubbed your back as you cried.

----

It’s been 4 hours since he had been taken into surgery, you were starting to worry even more. You paced back and forth the waiting room, Luke tried to get you to sit, Tara tried to talk to you and assure you that he will be okay but you didn’t listen to either of them. Their words came in one ear and out the other.

Emily suggested that you should go check on your patients while you waited to take your mind off of things, you told her you got someone to cover your shift. Spencer offered to step outside and have a smoke with you even though you knew he didn’t smoke. He knew it was something you did when you were stressed, he picked up on it the last time you were in California for a case.

The doctor finally came out to talk to you, he said Matt is asleep and the recovery process would be slow and painful but he would be okay. You finally sat down, your feet aching from how long you had been standing. The team headed in to see him first, you said you'd stay with him overnight so when he woke up, he wouldn’t be alone.

Luke asked you if you wanted some company and that he didn’t mind staying, you swore to him that you would be fine. He promised to be back in the morning to check on you. You sat in his room, making yourself comfortable. Your friends stopped by on their way out to say hi and see if you needed anything.

----

It was 4:15 am when you heard something fall, you sat up and rubbed your eyes. Matt was awake and trying to reach for the glass of water on the table next to him which he had just knocked down. “I've got it” you poured some into a new glass and handed it to him with a straw. You wiped off the table and sat on the chair beside his bed. You took the empty glass from him and rested it on the table.

He looked so tired and fragile, you were scared to touch him. You felt useless, you were a doctor and here you were, not sure how to help him. “Is there anything you need? Are you in pain ?” He shook his head and shut his eyes. You brushed his hair off his forehead, placing a kiss there. He opened his eyes to look at you, a small smile on his face.

“What happened ?”

“Luke said you were shot. You had a broken femur and some bleeding. You’ll be okay but you’re definitely going to have to take some time off work”

He looked at you like you just committed a crime, he chuckled and shook his head.

“Take time off work ? I'm not doing that.”

“Matt, come in. Don’t be stubborn, you can’t just rush into the field, you have to let your leg heal properly.”

He looked at you and shook his head again, you leaned back against your chair. “I took time off when I was shot, I came back to the hospital because you thought it would be safer for me. I did what you thought was best for me and now that I'm asking to take time for you to let your leg heal properly, you don't want to? Just hear me out Matt” You held his hand, hoping that he would reason with you. He pulled his hand away and scoffed “Why the fuck should I listen to you?”

You didn’t react, you just looked at him. You were shocked, even when he’s upset, he never lashed out on you. “I get that you’re upset but-” “I don’t care. I'm not doing what you want, it's my choice.” You couldn’t believe him, you stood up and headed towards the door. Turning back to look at him “You know what? Do whatever the fuck you want. I'm done with you and your shit Matthew” you walked out of his room and headed outside. You texted Luke that he should come to the hospital and stay with Matt. You didn’t even wait for him to text back before you headed home.

----

6 days.

That’s how long it’s been since you last spoke to Matt. He was still at the hospital, they had to keep him for observation to make sure his leg was okay and the incision healed properly. You’d stop in while he was sleeping to check on him, you were still his girlfriend after all. You had been updating the team on his condition as they were away on another case. Penelope has been coming by to check on him and keep him company.

“Dr. L/N to room 453, Dr. L/N to room 453″

That was Matt’s room and suddenly, you found yourself sprinting down the hallway like you had been that night. You turned the corner and ran into his room, stopping yourself before you ran into his bed. Matt looked fine, he was asleep and Penelope sat in the corner knitting something. “Penny what’s going on?” she put a finger up telling you to wait until she’s done, you stood there for a few minutes until she put down her scarf looking thing.

“You need to talk to him. He’s miserable sugar. He misses you, he’s always asking if I've seen you and if you're okay” she pushed her glasses up, you glanced at him and back to her. “Penny, I can’t. Do you even know what he said to me?” She nodded. “He told me everything” She picked up her bag and walked over to you “The team will be back soon, I'll be back with them afterwards. Just talk to him, please ?” She gave your arm a squeeze and headed out. Matt woke up right after Penelope left, he rubbed his eyes and looked at you.

“Y/n.. I'm sorry baby. God, I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I was in pain and I was angry. You know I didn’t mean it”

You didn’t know what to say, you took a seat on the chair beside him. He reached out for your hand but you pulled away. All the hope from his face, now washed away. “Y/n.. please” you wanted to forgive him but you knew you shouldn’t but you couldn’t stay mad at him forever.

“I don’t forgive you but I'm not mad” he let out a breath neither of you realized he was holding, he reached out for your hand, glancing at you as you put your hand in his. He tugged on your hand pulling you closer to him, he leaned close to you, faces inches apart

“I love you y/n”

“I love you too Matt”

He kissed you, his hand on your cheek as you leaned forward on your chair. Your kiss was interrupted by a squeal. “Oh goodie! you guys made up” You and Matt turned to see Penelope by the door with the team. JJ, Emily and Tara all smiling, Luke gave you two a wink as his arm wrapped around Penelope who was already discussing wedding details with Rossi, which he seemed oddly excited about. Spencer looked around “What did I say? I knew they were together”

The secret was out now.

#matt simmons #matt simmons smut #matt simmons x reader #matt simmons x y/n #matt simmons x you #matt simmons imagine #matt simmons oneshot #ssa matt simmons #cm #cm imagines #cm imagine #cm oneshot #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Text

Push and Pull (Part 9)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, mentions of injury etc.

--------

What she thought would be a small nap turned into sleeping until the next morning. When Daphne woke up, she didn't move as her eyes fluttered open. Every inch of her hurt like a bitch and her shock had turned to anger. She could hear a whispering coming from behind her in the kitchen area and she stayed completely still as she listened.

"Jesus christ, Matt. When you told me what happened I didn't expect for her to look like she was mauled by a goddamn bear!" Foggy hissed frantically, trying to keep his voice low.

"I told you she was attacked," Matt started, his voice quieter and calmer than his friends.

"I know you did, but have you seen her? What did that asshole do to her?" Foggy honestly sounded like he was about to have an aneurism. She heard a sigh that came from Matt.

"Look, Foggy-" he tried, only to be interrupted again.

"Don't 'look Foggy' me. This shit is insane! And you said Brett hasn't even found the dude yet!" Foggy hissed again. Her heart dropped at that news. He must have left before the cops got there.

"I know but there isn't much we can do-" he was once again cut off by a panicked Foggy.

"There's a knife-wielding dad killer out there, Matt! He's insane. This whole thing is just… she could have died!" If she was honest, it touched her a little by how upset Foggy was by all of this. He seemed to be taking this friend thing seriously.

"I'm well aware," Matt stated plainly. He sounded like he was starting to get irritated.

"Oh, you're well aware. How great. Are you even concerned at all? I'm over here having a damn panic attack and you're just chill! Were you not even worried when she turned up here half dead?!" Foggy glowered accusingly.

"Of course I was worried, Foggy! I didn't even know how bad it was or if I'd be able to help her! I didn't sleep at all last night just to make sure she was breathing!" She didn't know how to feel about him watching over her like that. She hadn't expected that kindness. She hadn't even done that for him when he got shot.

"Quit your goddamn lecture because now isn't the time to talk about this!" Matt hissed harshly.

"Why the hell not?!" Foggy demanded.

"Because she's awake," Matt answered tensely.

Busted. She didn't know what tipped him off. She wondered if it was how her breathing changed when she woke and throughout their whispered argument or her heartbeat. Either way was creepy. She opted not to say anything and she honestly didn't think she could sit up unassisted with the pain she was in. She heard footsteps coming to the living area and Foggy plonked down in the chair. She was expecting a fake smile on his face with a cheerful greeting but she was met by a worried glance and silence. She didn't like it.

"Here. Coffee, toast and some pain meds," Matt murmured softly as he set the things on the coffee table. Then without her even having to ask, he helped her to sit. She groaned, gripping her wound on her lower abdomen as the stitches jolted.

"Motherfucker," she moaned with a frown. She didn't think she'd ever been this banged up before.

"Sorry. Try not to move too much. It'll be easier once you've had the pills," Matt said carefully. She nodded, grabbing the pills and washing them down with the coffee that was still kind of hot. She didn't know how Matt knew she liked cream and sugar but she couldn't care less right then.

"Brett didn't find him?" She bit out. It only caused her anger to swell. This asshole murdered his own father, a good man that didn't deserve this. She didn't even care about her attack in the grand scheme of things. She needed justice for Mr Lee. Matt sighed heavily, wiping a hand over his face. Foggy finally decided to speak.

"When they got to the scene, he was gone. But they're processing it which is good and they've got people looking for him. With your evidence and statement, once they catch him he's as good as locked up," Foggy stated sounding confident. More confident than the frantic whispering from the kitchen. She just nodded again. She really hoped they'd find the asshole.

"You need to eat. You lost a lot of blood and you need to heal," Matt uttered as he pushed the plate of toast towards her more. She felt sick and she really wasn't hungry. But she refused to lay about feeling sorry for herself. She wanted to heal ASAP so she reluctantly ate a few pieces of the toast. The silence as she ate was unbearable, like no one knew what to say as the heaviness weighed on them. Weirdly enough she found herself somewhat happy she wasn't on her own right then.

"I need to get to the station, drop my shit off and give my statement," she sighed once she was done, wiping the crumbs from her hands.

"Might wanna get changed first," Foggy teased weakly. She glanced down for the first time and blanched. Her shirt was ripped to shreds and was soaked in blood. She didn't know how she was even functioning with how much blood she must have lost. Her jeans were also blood stained although the brunt of it was taken by her shirt.

"You can have something of mine," Matt said softly as he stood. She watched him as he opened the door to his room. She'd be impressed by how easy he navigated his home but she'd seen him fight. The stick was just an act for everyone else's benefit. He might not see like everyone else but he saw things in his own way.

He came back a moment later with some black sweat pants and a black t-shirt. They'd be big but she'd cope. She just wanted to see Brett.

"Thanks," she shot him a weary smile that he returned as she took them. When she went to stand, she made a pained noise, squeezing her eyes shut. This would be hard. Foggy jumped up though, she wondered if he just felt like he needed to do something. To be helpful.

"Come on, I'll walk you to the bathroom," he smiled. He helped her stand and she was unsteady to her feet. With his help she managed to make it to the bathroom. She closed the door once she got in and listened to Foggy retreat back to Matt in the living room.

She gasped when she saw her reflection. She knew it would be bad but this wasn't what she expected. The left side of her face was a giant bruise, her cheekbone swollen. She had a split lip and hand prints around her throat. Her arms had numerous small slices and she knew her chest had a couple too as well as the deep gash on her stomach. She looked like she stepped right off the set of a horror movie. She wasn't surprised that Foggy freaked out when he saw her. At first she felt sad. Knowing she would scar, that Mr Lee's psycho spawn had marked her forever. A reminder of how she'd failed him because she was a self absorbed bitch. But then her anger flared. Matt’s words from the day before were on a loop in her brain like a mantra. Even if she had told Mr Lee, this would have happened. And she held the evidence to help put the prick away. Maybe the only reason she crossed paths with Mr Lee was so she could make sure he got justice.

After gathering herself, she realised she had a problem. She could barely function, let alone undress and get changed. She loathed asking anyone for help but she wasn't stubborn enough to hurt herself more by trying. Heaving a sigh, she shuffled over and opened the door.

"Uh… I need some help," she murmured with a grimace. She felt so awkward. Foggy was a new friend that she was trying to adjust to and Matt was… well he was Matt. But she was grateful for everything he'd done for her. And now they were even and she could close that chapter and hoped neither of them would need the other’s help after this.

"What do you need?" Foggy asked as he came into view, Matt trailing behind him.

"I can't… I can't get undressed. Or dressed," she snorted ruefully, gesturing to the bundle of clothes in her arms. Foggy's eyes widened and he glanced from her to Matt.

"I-I can help… if you need me to-" he started looking uncomfortable but she shook her head to stop him.

"At the risk of sounding like a bitch, Matt’s blind so… I'd kinda feel better if he helped me," she said carefully.

Matt swallowed thickly with a nod as Foggy looked relieved.

"Great! I mean… okay. I'll just…" he scurried off back to the living area and she snorted softly at him. Matt stayed silent as he walked inside the bathroom, closing the door behind him for privacy. It still wasn't ideal. He couldn't see with his eyes but he wasn't a typical blind person. But it was better than nothing.

"I'll try to be careful but this might hurt a little," he muttered apologetically. She nodded as he took the clothes from her and set them by the sink.

He made good on his promise to be careful as he expertly manoeuvred her shirt over her head with minimal pain. She was starting to feel uncomfortable with the weird silence dangling over them as he worked on her jeans.

"What's the mirror for? I mean you can't see so…" it came out much worse than it sounded in her head and she mentally facepalmed. She didn't know why it was so hard to just be civil with him. It was much easier being a bitch. She was caught off guard when he let out a surprised laugh.

"That sounded better in my head. I promise I'm not actually trying to be a bitch," she huffed a laugh of her own.

"It's fine. It's a valid question. Foggy made me get it, he's always trying to get me to put stuff in here for when he visits. He's been trying to get me to get a TV," he grinned up at her as he tugged her jeans down her legs.

"I think he just wants you to buy it so he doesn't have to," she mused playfully.

"That's what I said," he chuckled.

She was suddenly aware she was standing in her underwear and she was grateful he couldn't see her blush. When did she blush? She wasn't shy of the opposite sex. She rolled her eyes at herself as Matt helped her step into his sweatpants. She at least was capable of tightening the drawstrings so they didn't slip off. She winced a little as he manoeuvred the shirt over her head. It was a little big but it was way better than her now ruined one. Next he helped her with her boots.

"There you go," he gave her a hesitant smile and she swallowed thickly.

"Thanks… for this and… saving my life," she murmured sincerely. He nodded, pursing his lips a little.

"Like you said last night, now we're even," he smirked.

"Yeah, except I didn't keep vigil when you slept," she pointed out. Maybe she was feeling more like herself today since she noticed he looked down, seemingly caught off guard. He probably hoped she hadn't heard that part.

"You were in pretty bad shape. I couldn't sleep and I figured I'd just make sure you were still breathing," he shrugged as he opened the door

"Careful, Devilboy. It's starting to sound like you care. What do you think we are? Friends?" She asked with a sly smirk. He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her to help her walk into the living area.

"Something like that," he replied quietly.

"You look a lot better. More 'wearing my boyfriends clothes' than 'murder scene chic'," Foggy beamed at her. She snorted and rolled her eyes. She knew she still probably looked weird wearing Matt’s clothes and her boots but they were comfy honestly. Besides, nothing would stick out as much as her injuries. She watched as Foggy slung her backpack over his shoulder so she didn't have to carry it and she almost jumped when a hoodie was suddenly presented to her by Matt. He helped her into it but she left it unzipped. It was cozy and soft.

She was anxious now to see Brett and she watched with little patience as the boys got ready to leave. She didn't remember when Matt changed from his own sweats to his lawyer suit. It was Sunday and this wasn't really work and she wondered if he always wore a suit when he wasn't at home or if we just worked all the time. Matt slipped his glasses on and grabbed his cane before walking over. He linked his arm with her and she wondered how funny it would look when they went outside. Both of them were patient as they went down the stairs with her and she was grateful as they took turns to help her. She hated feeling so dependent on anyone and she couldn't wait to hurry up and heal.

"Thank Jesus," she breathed once they got outside. It felt like it took ten hours to get down the stairs.

"I prefer to go by Foggy most days. But it's Sunday so I'll allow it," Foggy grinned teasingly. She let out an elegant snort.

"Blasphemous," Matt tutted with a wry smirk. She wasn't sure now what the plan was. She struggled to walk on her own completely but knew Matt usually held Foggy's arm. She just stood there waiting for a cue on what to do. She watched as Matt readied his cane and then he glanced at her, extending his arm for her to link her own. She smiled gratefully, linking her arm and using him as an anchor to steady herself.

"Alright, off to the station we go. I should've brought snacks, this'll take a while," Foggy murmured thoughtfully.

She wasn't sure how long it took them to walk to the station but it was longer than she'd like. But once again they were patient and Matt had been steady as he walked beside her, guiding her which she found ironic. Foggy held open the door for them as they got there.

"Ladies first," he shot Matt a sly smirk and Matt scoffed as he shot his head.

"I'm sorry, please tell us what your favourite show is again?" Matt retorted. Foggy squinted at him as they walked through the door.

"The real housewives of Beverly Hills is interesting and entertaining!" Foggy defended firmly. She had to purse her lips to stop herself from laughing.

"Holy shit, D! What in the fresh hell?" the voice snapped her out of the surprisingly chill moment she was having with the wonder twins as Brett stormed over. He was looking at every inch of her with concern etched on his features and she gave him a careful smile.

"Asshole really did a number on me," she replied ruefully. She didn't want it made into a bigger deal than it was. The focus wasn't about her but Mr Lee instead.

"You're telling me," he muttered, raking his teeth over his lower lip.

"Any word?" Matt asked firmly. His no nonsense lawyer voice on. The heaving sigh that left Brett's lips told her no.

"No yet but we got eyes out looking for him. Don’t worry, we'll get him," he gave her a meaningful look and she nodded gratefully.

"I've got all the pictures in my bag. You want me to give my statement now?" She asked softly. Foggy passed the backpack to Brett who called another cop over to take it.

"Yeah. Get it done now and then you can rest while we find this asshole," he affirmed. She took a shaky step forward on her own and Matt hovered over her like he was ready to catch her. Brett moved over and linked his arm with hers.

"I got it from here. You boys can go on home, I'll drive her home when we're done," Brett said as he started walking with her.

"Thanks guys," she smiled over her shoulder. Foggy grinned at her and Matt just sent her a solemn nod. They'd actually had decent interactions for once. Maybe it was because she was injured. She wasn't on top form to be such a bitch and maybe he felt bad. She did appreciate him saving her ass even if it was to pay her back.

#matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil x oc #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil

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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years

Text

Of All the Places

Chapter 3

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: Washing up in a small town in Oklahoma was definitely not part of Loki’s plan when he came to conquer Midgard. There is one good thing about it, though: No one recognizes him as the one who just wreaked havoc in New York. So, Loki plans to recover from the battle and move on with his life. The only problem? He’s not sure he can leave you. Chapter Summary: Loki battles with new thoughts and feelings as time goes on. While trying to convince himself to leave, he does his best to stop his growing connection to you and Matt. Chapter Warnings: some angst, but also fluff A/N: Third chapter done! For anyone wondering about James, there’s some more information on him in this chapter. And for anyone who saw that other post, this isn’t the super long chapter yet, sorry! Updates every Friday. As always, hope you enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiantfavs @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff

✥ Start at Beginning ✥ | ← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

One week later, Loki was ready to leave. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. He’d done his best to keep his distance, and yet he kept getting roped into conversations with you. Surely, though, that was wholly due to your persistence and in no part because he was drawn to you. And this family breakfast he was at yet again? Simply because he was addicted to pancakes. It had nothing to do with you, or your family, or your kind eyes. Okay, maybe it had the tiniest bit to do with your kind eyes. The way you looked at him was like nothing he’d ever known before. Frigga had always done it with a gentle love, but it was always reserved and hidden behind a queenly mask. With you, he could see every thought that passed through your mind reflected in your eyes. He shouldn’t have enjoyed being seen as a bird with a broken wing, but the care you gave him was something he quite liked.

“Hey,” you whispered, nudging him in the side as the rest of the table laughed at something. “You ok?”

“Yes. Just lost in thought I suppose.”

“I hate to interrupt,” Mama curtly interjected, “but whispering at the table ain’t polite.”

Ah, now if Loki was looking for a reason to leave, he could certainly find one in Mama. Though you’d been the one to start the hushed conversation, she was looking pointedly at Loki as if he was the instigator. Then again, she acted like every bad thing that happened since his arrival was his fault, even things he had no control over. Maybe spiting her by staying was reason enough for his delayed departure.

“Sorry,” you said before he could deliver a withering insult. “It’s my fault.”

Mama just made a little humming noise in reply that obviously showed she neither blamed you nor appreciated you taking the fall. In the time that Loki had been at your farm, she either avoided him like the plague or dealt thinly veiled insults his way. It was grating on his nerves, but there wasn’t much he could do bar revealing himself as an all-powerful god. Or leaving. That was always an option, he reminded himself.

“Son, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Papa started, ignoring the tension like always, “I’ve misplaced that dang camera again. I’ll find it again soon though, don’t you worry.”

Little did he know, that camera’s disappearing act was entirely due to Loki’s magic. He’d hidden it around the house a number of times, never anywhere too outrageous as to avoid suspicion. Perhaps this time he’d just keep it in a dimensional pocket. Or let Taffy knock it over. Maybe if it was broken, you’d give up on the missing person ad idea. He’d worried that you would just use your phone cameras instead, but Papa was convinced that the quality would not be good enough.

“It is quite alright, sir. Your hospitality is more than enough. In fact, I really ought to be on my way soon,” he finished, throwing a glance at you to gauge your reaction, feeling an odd spark of happiness when you sank down in your seat.

“No!” Matt cried. “I don’t want you to.”

He crossed his arms as if that solved everything. It did, however, soften Loki a little. As it turns out, he was very fond of the little guy. On Asgard he’d never had much time to spend with children, but it seemed like he had inherited his mother’s natural ability to be good with them. Inherited is the wrong word, actually, he bitterly thought to himself. She’s not your real mother, after all.

“Matt, if he wants to leave, we really should let him,” Mama scolded, with an almost hopeful expression.

“Actually, I do not see why I shouldn’t stay a bit longer,” Loki said, flashing a false grin at the woman. “There really is no rush, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “No rush.”

“Well, Loki, since Matt has taken to you so well, maybe you’d like to watch him this afternoon?” Ana asked, pretending she didn’t hear Mama’s latest remark.

“It would be my pleasure,” he responded, surprised by the sincerity of that statement.

The family had still been avoiding giving Loki strenuous tasks, believing that he was just incredibly good at hiding his ailments. To keep up appearances, he pretended to have a particularly bad ache or pain every once in a while. Whenever he did, you’d instantly appear at his side and usher him to a seat. He’d try to get up, but you would tell him to stay put in your best stern tone, which he found rather adorable, though he’d never admit it. Then you’d fetch him a glass of water and watch over him for the next hour, or until you decided he was well enough to get up again.

Fifteen minutes later, it was time to start the day and everyone helped clear the table. Your family had made the process as efficient as possible. Mama and John would bring the dishes to Papa in the kitchen, who would hand them to you to put in the dishwasher after rinsing them off. Ana and Matt would put away all the leftovers and toppings from whatever had just been on the menu. Loki helped out where he could, but most days everyone besides Mama insisted he should take it easy, that he could help when he was fully healed. It was odd, he realized, that you were all planning on him being around that long. He felt that familiar, nagging, guilty feeling he’d been getting ever since he arrived. He was not a fan.

By the time Ana and John were ready to leave, Loki had already collected the eggs, the only daily chore he was given, and was ready to watch Matt. It was only as the boy was hugging his parents goodbye that Loki realized he wasn’t really sure what to do with the child for the next few hours. He was thankful that you seemed like you were planning on sticking around, too. It did make sense, he supposed, that they hadn’t completely trusted the boy with a near stranger.

“Aren’t you healthy, mommy?” Matt asked, clinging to Ana’s leg as she tried to get away. “Why do you have to go to the doctor?”

“Because you’re going to have a little brother or sister soon,” Ana explained in a sweet tone as she gently pried her son away. “Mommy and Daddy have to go to the doctor to make sure the baby is healthy.”

Loki’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He had not yet realized that Ana was pregnant. She must not have been very far along because she wasn’t showing much yet. Though, now that he knew to look, the god could see a small baby bump. Based on Matt’s reaction, he was already aware that he’d have a sibling soon, but he still couldn’t quite grasp the concept of everything that went along with that.

“Will you be back soon?” Matt questioned, finally giving up his efforts to keep his parents where they were.

“In the blink of an eye, small fry,” John said, placing a kiss on his head.

That seemed to satisfy Matt, who wandered over to Loki and put his arms up, clearly looking to be picked up. He hesitated for a second before scooping up the boy. It wasn’t that he was afraid of dropping him, in fact he was sure he wouldn’t, but he’d never held a child before. Up until a few days ago, he wasn’t sure he even had the slightest inkling how to be nurturing. And then there was the whole problem of Matt becoming too attached. Not to mention the way you looked at him when he did held him. That soft gaze was a problem for sure.

“Alright,” you said once Ana and John were gone. “What do you want to do, buddy?”

“Hide and seek!” he shouted. Then he put his small, chubby hands on Loki’s cheeks and used his most serious tone. “You’ll never find me. I have the best hidey spots.”

Loki let out a nervous chuckle. Truth be told, he didn’t know how to play this game. When he and Thor were kids, they played run and attack, but he felt like this was probably not very comparable. Midgard was a very different place, after all.

“Just count to sixty and then come look for us. We’ll stay in the house,” you informed Loki as he passed Matt off to you. “Oh, and just shout out when you’re starting to look.”

“Thank you,” he replied, turning around to face the wall.

It was odd, he thought, that he seemed to have said thank you more in the past week than he had in the last century of his existence. He’d never meant to let himself get so bitter, but here he was stewing in that awful feeling. When the flash of anger receded, the God of Mischief realized he was face to face with a framed family tree. Highest up were pictures of couples he could only assume were your grandparents. Next line down was Mama, Papa, and their siblings. You and Ana were in the next row, and it struck him just how much you and your sister looked alike. Matt and John were there too, but the person that most captured his attention was your brother. The middle child, he guessed, since the picture was in between those of you and Ana. He gently ran his fingers over the looping gold cursive of James’s name. Loki loved a good mystery, but he needed clues and evidence to solve one. He knew next to nothing about the guy, other than that he’d been wearing his clothes for the past seven days.

“I am starting to look now,” Loki awkwardly shouted, feeling self-conscious about seeming like he was talking to no one.

He thought he heard a small snort coming from one of the upper levels at his gawky declaration, so he headed up first. It felt odd to go rifling through things, so he mainly tried just to peer under furniture, though he did open a closet once or twice. He huffed and considered if he should venture into any of your rooms. If you weren’t there, though, he’d feel like he was intruding on something private and sacred. Hesitating with a hand hovering over the doorknob to your room, he noticed the attic hatch out of the corner of his eye. Standing still, he could hear a very subtle shuffling noise coming from above him, so either you were there, or you’d better call pest control.

As soon as he climbed the ladder, Matt started giggling, but Loki pretended he couldn’t hear. He loudly walked in between the boxes littering the floor, every once in a while dramatically peering around an old piece of furniture. It only made the laughs louder.

“Now where could they be?” he sighed in mock exasperation. “Maybe, they’re here!”

Then he jumped around the couch you were hiding behind and started tickling Matt. The boy squealed in delight and squirmed away. When Loki looked at you, he saw something shocking on your face. Admiration. It was something he’d longed for from so many people in his life, and here you were giving it so freely to him. He moved his gaze elsewhere before his mind could wander any further.

“What’s all the ruckus up here?” Mama asked, her head appearing from the door. After spotting Loki, her eyes narrowed. “Oh. It’s you.”

“We were just playing hide and seek, Mama. Don’t worry,” you said.

“Indeed. I must say, it is much fun,” Loki added, though more to annoy her than ease her mind.

“I’m sure,” she replied before taking Matt by the hand. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

You shot Loki an apologetic glance as you headed out after her. Once Matt’s snack was finished, Loki partook in some coloring. He was oddly pleased to know the little boy’s favorite color was green, and you seemed fairly partial to it, too. Ana and John returned roughly an hour later, and Loki finished the day by doing chores around the farm. Another thing he’d learned about himself was that he really didn’t mind doing manual labor. Growing up in the Royal Palace Valaskjalf, he never had to lift a finger to help cook or clean or do anything much besides training and lessons, really. Now he found himself almost eager to get into the kitchen for a cooking lesson with Papa or help out in the fields, the latter of which definitely had nothing to do with showing off for you.

He’d been on his way to the kitchen that evening sometime after dinner, his infamous sweet tooth bugging him again, when he heard Mama’s hushed voice.

“I’m telling you Earl, something about that boy just don’t sit right with me.”

“Come on, honey. He can’t even remember nothing. It’s our duty to help him out,” Loki heard Papa reply as he hid just outside the door.

“He may say he can’t remember, but I ain’t buying it. We should get him out soon as possible.”

It shouldn’t bother him as much as it did, but there was nothing to stop him from feeling the sting of those words. He really should just leave; it had been his plan after all. As if they had a will of their own, Loki’s feet carried him away from the conversation, out the door, and off the porch. He never should have taken advantage of your family’s generosity. He regretted thinking about you, though, because it made his steps falter a bit. And then there was sweet little Matt. It hadn’t really hit him until now, but Loki actually enjoyed himself today. He couldn’t recall the last day he could say that about.

“I hope you weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye.”

The trickster god whirled around at the sound of your voice. He’d been too caught up in his tumultuous thoughts to notice you leaning on one of the porch’s posts.

“Certainly not,” he lied. “I just needed some fresh air is all.”

“In that case, I know the perfect place. Come on.”

You took his hand and led him away from your land. He tried not to pay attention to the feeling of your hand in his. In fact, he tried to block it out altogether, but to no avail. Eventually, you reached a peaceful creek and picked up a rock to skip.

“If I was going to leave,” he began after a few minutes of contemplative silence, “I really would be fine. I appreciate all that you and your family have done, truly, but perhaps it’s best if I go.”

“Look, I know you’re pretty much all healed up, but you still don’t remember anything. I cannot in good conscience let you out into the world like that.”

“I suppose that is fair. Your mother certainly does not agree with your assessment, though.”

You sighed. “If Mama’s the reason you feel you should go, please just ignore her. She means well and all, but... Well, let’s just say she has her reasons for acting this way,”

Loki said nothing but raised his eyebrows at you. One part of him felt bad to press you for more information, even if it was done without words. The much larger part of himself, however, was entirely too curious to not know.

“Okay, so remember when I told you about my brother?”

Loki nodded eagerly, ready to get some answers about what exactly had happened there.

“Well, he was... He was killed in an accident with a drunk driver a couple years ago,” you recounted, tearing up a little bit. “Mama had trust issues even before, but they’re much worse now.”

“I am so sorry, darling,” Loki said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, but not daring to go any further than that.

He felt bad for your loss, but right now there were major alarm bells going off in his head. He’d just called you darling. It wan’t even something he’d thought about doing, it just happened. That, coupled with the fact he cared how you were feeling, had him panicking. His plan to leave after a week was already out the window, but leaving at all was becoming harder to fathom by the day.

“It’s ok,” you replied, wiping a few errant tears off your cheeks. “It was a little while ago. I’m alright now. Really.”

Neither of you said anything for a moment as he awkwardly pat your shoulder, not really certain of the correct way to comfort someone. He wanted to say something else, but he wasn’t sure what.

“I think I had a brother!” he shouted, giving in to his desire to confide in you, but his web of lies making it impossible to tell the whole truth.

“We have to put that ad in the paper then. So he can find you.”

Little did you know how awful that situation would be for everyone involved. Still, it meant a lot that you cared, especially when you’d just been saddened at the memory of your own brother.

“Maybe, but I do not seem to think we had a very good relationship.”

“All the more reason then. You never know how long you have, so you should try to make amends.”

“Perhaps.”

You lapsed into silence again, not really sure where to go from there. By now, the sun had been down for a while and a chill was settling in the air. Loki noticed you shiver and shrugged off his hoodie.

“Here,” he embarrassedly mumbled, holding it out to you.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t,” you refused. “You’ll be cold then.”

“Nonsense,” he insisted, “I will be perfectly fine.”

You reluctantly agreed and pulled it on. Though it had only been in his possession for a short time, his scent had already claimed the soft fabric. He acted like his attention was averted elsewhere, but was actually watching you out of the corner of his eye. You didn’t notice his gaze on you as you took a gentle sniff, trying to take as much of it in as possible. Sandalwood, leather and something otherworldly that you just couldn’t name, other than to call it heaven. He turned his head ever so slightly and you started sheepishly picking at your nails, hoping he hadn’t caught you. He expected to be appalled by the notion, but just found himself confused. Why would you enjoy something that was so distinctly him? Then he remembered you didn’t know the truth. That’s why he had to get out as soon as possible before he, or anyone else, got hurt.

“We should probably head back before it gets too late,” you said after a bit.

“I agree,” was all he replied.

As you walked away from the creek, he tried to leave the new feelings bubbling in him by the water, but they followed him all the way back to the house, and into his dreams that night.

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blueeyedheizer · 3 years

Text

All Over Again - Matt (part 4 - the end)

WARNINGS: amnesia, implied sex, super soft overall <3

A/N: it's finally here, the last part to this short story!! I really like this part although I had a bit of a hard time finishing it. It's a bit cliché but i'm happy with it. Also, thank you so much to everyone who still reads my Matt fics, I appreciate you guys so much <3 (PS: I know the transition from part 3 to part 4 is really sudden...I hope the timejump isn't too disappointing) Anyway, enough talking. Enjoy xx

•••

After two months, you are finally released from the hospital.

You weren't surprised to find out that you shared an apartment with Matt, and at this point you didn't mind at all. You felt comfortable around him and despite not remembering your old life with him, you were starting to feel strongly for him. He had been there for you since day one, he never gave up on you even though you still couldn't remember anything about him. You never thought it was possible for someone to ever love you this way but there he was, doing absolutely everything in his power to help you get through this, even when he knew things might never be the same again.

Matt opened the door and you walked in closely behind him, taking a look at your surroundings. The house was quite messy, but you couldn't blame him. His mind had been all over the place these past weeks and he had spent most of his time with you. Tidying around was really not his prioritiy.

Everything around you looked familiar. Somehow, you still remembered where most things were situated, and you had no trouble in finding each room, including yours and Matt's shared bedroom. And yet you had no real memory attached to it. You couldn't associate anything with it. You knew it was there, but the room itself was just like the rest; a blur.

---

Your first week home was mostly focused on resting. You were dying to go out and do something other than sit on a couch and watch TV but the doctor had said it would be better if you spent a few days home to let your bruises heal properly before envisaging going back to your normal everyday life. Matt was just as supporting as he was before, cancelling his plans to stay with you, hoping that you would remember something, just a fragment of your old life with him. But that was a long process, and even though you two were basically back to being a couple it was different. You loved him, but it was different. You loved the boy who visited you everyday at the hospital, not the boy that you had met at a gig almost a year ago now.

In order to train your brain, the doctor had recommended to regularly go through familiar things such as photos, videos and possessions. Considering the fact that you and Matt had a common passion for music and cinema, you decided to focus on this.

You were cuddled up against him, a blanket covering the both of you as the end credits of your favorite movie rolled on the screen.

"Why didn't you tell me he was going to die?" you sniffled, wiping a tear from your cheek while chuckling.

"Didn't want to ruin the experience"

"Well that would've spared me a heartbreak." you pouted. Matt chuckled, pressed a kiss to your forehead then stood to turn off the TV before settling back next to you, allowing you to cuddle up against him. A comfortable silence fell upon you both as he intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand every so often and running his thumb over your skin.

A few more minutes passed by and you glanced at the clock, sighing softly.

"I should probably get some sleep." you announced. Matt kissed the top of your head and you reluctantly pulled away from the warmth of his body.

"I still need to work on some things, I'll join you later."

"Alright."

"Good night, love"

"Good night." you smiled and pecked his cheek before making your way to your shared bedroom. You quickly changed into your night clothes and brushed your teeth before slipping under the covers.

You tried to close your eyes but your mind was racing with thoughts about everything and nothing. You just kept moving around on the bed, changing your position every two minutes, unable to find your usual comfort. You sighed heavily and rolled onto your back, hands crossed over your chest. However a small smile tugged on your lips when you heard the quiet sound of Matt's guitar as he worked on his song. It probably would have lulled you to sleep if your brain cooperated with your desire to sleep.

You spent another fifteen minutes or so just laying wide awake on your bed, waiting for sleep to eventually come. A few more minutes go by and you hear footsteps approaching before seeing the door open, Matt walking in seconds later.

"You're still awake?" he asked and you hummed in response.

"I can't sleep."

"I'm sorry, was it the guitar? I tried to be as quiet as I could—"

"No, it wasn't the guitar. I actually enjoyed it." you chuckled. "It's just me. I have a lot on my mind."

Matt stripped down to his underwear, put on a random shirt then slipped under the sheets, taking his spot next to you. He propped himself up on his arm so he could look at you.

"What's on your mind, love?" he wondered. You shrugged, looking down at your hand as your fingers drew small patterns on the sheets. Your face dropped a little bit.

"Everything." Matt brushed a strand of hair off your face as you spoke, tucking it behind your ear.

"Tell me everything then."

You stayed silent for a moment, knowing that the conversation you were about to start wasn't something easy to talk about on both sides. A few more seconds go by and you finally ask the question you were dying to know the answer of.

"Matt...— what were we arguing about?"

You didn’t miss the way his entire body froze at your words. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, detaching his gaze from yours. Then he shifted and sat back against the headboard of the bed, causing you to sit up as well.

With a heavy heart, he began to explain what happened. How it all started, how he snapped at you when you were just being rightfully worried about not having any news of him over two hours after he was supposed to be home. He was hardly holding back tears by the end of his explanation, and so were you. You couldn't help but feel a sting in your heart at the thought of him raising his voice at you.

"I'm not mad at you." you assured him in a small voice, seeing guilt written all over his face.

"You would be if you remembered. I almost got you killed."

"Don't say that."

"But it's the truth Y/N! If I had just kept my mouth shut and dealt with my anger alone then nothing of this would've happened. You wouldn't have had this accident and you wouldn't have lost your memory. I did this to you."

"And I could've just locked myself in our room instead of going for a drive in the middle of the night." you argued. "You're not responsible for any of this, Matt."

He didn't say anything after that, he just kept his head lowered and shook his head. You could see tears begin to fall down his cheeks. Pulling yourself closer to him, you placed your hand on his face, wanting him to look at you.

"Matt." when he still refused to look at you, you climbed over him so you could straddle his lap. "Matt, look at me." your hand came underneath his chin and brought his face up to meet your eyes. You moved your hand to cup his cheek, gently wiping away some tears while one escaped the corner of your eye. "This is not your fault." you whispered, leaning in to press your forehead against his, your hands moving to the back of his neck and gently scratching. "Okay? This is not your fault."

You stayed like this for a moment then you kissed him, pouring all your emotions into the kiss. Your hands found their way to his head, threading your fingers through his hair as your whimpered softly, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, both your breathing gradually growing heavier.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he murmured against your lips after pulling away, understanding your intentions. Your thumb brushed softly over his bottom lip as you nodded, still slightly panting for air.

"Have we ever...?" you said and he nodded. You answered with a barely audible 'okay' before pressing your lips back against his. But this time he didn't kiss back.

"Y/N..."

"Do you not want to do it?" you asked as you pulled away, sounding disappointed.

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"I- I don't know, shouldn't we wait until you get your memory back? Are you actually ready for this?" he spoke hesitantly, and your face softened at his words.

"I don't want to wait for something that might not happen anytime soon." you said softly, brushing a strand of hair off his forehead. "And yes, I am ready."

He looked down sadly, his thumbs stroking your hips gently. Your forehead was resting against his as another tear rolled down your cheek.

"I love you..." you murmured, trying to fight back more of them. "Please don't give up on me now." that seemed to have startled him as he looked up at you almost immediately before cradling your head between his hands.

"I won't. I promise."

You nodded and closed the space between you, your lips meeting in a soft, passionate kiss. Your heartbeat was accelerating in your chest since this was new for you. It wasn't for the old version of yourself, but the new one had never been in such an intimate situation with him. You broke the kiss to pull his shirt over his head, discarding it to the side. You did the the same with yours before cupping his cheeks and kissing him again.

His lips eventually started moving down to your neck, pressing a trail of kisses there as you leaned your head back, giving him more access. His hands started roaming over your lower back and you shyly began to grind your hips, moaning softly.

---

"I love you too, you know." Matt said as you both laid on the bed, your head resting against his chest as his hand moved up and down your back soothingly. The silence of the room only highlighted how loud you had been moments before.

"I know." you smiled. Your hand travelled across his torso, absentmindedly caressing and drawing small patterns on his skin.

Tilting your head up a bit, you laid your eyes on a small framed picture of the two of you that was on his bedside table, one you hadn't seen yet. It looked quite recent. You propped yourself on your arm and reached for the picture, looking at it closely.

"That was the day I came back from London."

You turned to Matt, a genuine smile curving your lips.

"You've been to London?"

"Yeah." he smiled, his thumb caressing your shoulder. "One of our biggest gigs. 450 people, more or less. I'm not sure if they appreciated the music, but they were here." you both shared a quiet laugh and you shook your head, looking down at him before leaning in to kiss him softly.

"I'm sure they did."

You placed the picture back on the table and cuddled back against his chest, sighing in content. You quickly felt your body relax fully against his own, your breathing becoming even, steady, slow. With his fingers running through your hair soothingly you finally allowed sleep to take over, staying snuggled tightly against him.

---

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed and the smell of coffee. Rolling onto your back, you stretched your arms and smiled at the thought of last night's events, remembering how caring Matt had been the entire time.

You eventually rolled out of bed and got dressed, pulling on a shirt of his along with your jeans.

Then you decided to rummage a bit through your stuff to train your brain like you had been told to do. You started with the books that were on the shelves; you let your fingers run along their spines, reading their names. Then you looked through Matt's records before picking one and placing it on to play. The Sun Always Shines On T.V. began playing and you smiled when the chorus came on, the lyrics easily coming back to your mind.

You continued your exploration around the room and opened up a jewelry box, taking out a small star shaped earring. Your lips pressed into a thin line and you frowned as you searched your mind, feeling a déjà vu.

And that's when it happened.

***

"Is that...is that an earring ?"

"Huh?"

You smiled and cupped his cheek, tilting his head to the side to take a proper look at the small moon shaped jewel. Then you tilted his head to the other side, noticing another one with a different shape; a small golden star.

"I like the moon one better." you smirked, leaning in to peck his lips.

***

"Matt..." you breathed out. Your eyes widened and you called him louder this time, breathing and heartbeat accelerating as you started crying.

After two more almost desperate, sobbed out calls of his name, Matt came running into the room, a terrified look on his face.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he rushed to your side and cupped your face, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were already puffy and red and your breathing was ragged as you cried, hot tears soaking your cheeks, heavy hiccups leaving the back of your throat. You didn't answer, instead you grabbed his face and crashed your lips against his, kissing him as deeply as you could.

Matt immediately understood what was going on and kissed back, his own eyes watering up quickly. You eventually had to pull away for air, your current state making it hard for you to breathe. You rested your forehead against his and played with his earring, unable to say anything.

You eventually let out a small laugh through your tears, smiling softly as you looked into his teary eyes. Then you kissed him again, pouring out all your love and gratitude into it as you held onto him, wanting this moment to last forever.

"I remember."

#blueeyeddean #matt

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seriouslyblacklikemysoul · 4 years

Text

Until Forever - Sirius Black

Chapter 11. Friends.

After that particular talk she had with Minerva, she felt lighter, as if the weight she was carrying on had been lifted from her chest, freeing her from the invisible tyrant. She had finally found someone she could be honest – she hated lying, even white lies put her in a hard position. She was slowly learning how to be at ease when things falling apart and that she had to start over; how to trust those new beginnings once more, how to trust in the rebirth of things and people, including herself; that with every new beginning, she found another lost piece of herself, and with every new adventure, she fell in love with something she would never have thought she’d love. They were scary and confusing but they were also spectacular and extraordinary. Running away was not always the solution. Slowly, but steadily enough, she was learning how to let new people in – how to reawaken her faith in people and their ability to love and their ability to open her heart again. And while she was dreading it, she was hoping that people could see all the different sides of her and still stay. She was never big on trusting herself but she had to; she had to find the ability to trust all those tough experiences that left scars inside her heart or stitches inside her brain, all of that contributed to who she had grown to be. She had to finally understand that things didn’t always fall apart to give an ending, but sometimes they fell apart to present a new beginning. Couple of days passed her by, as she decided to do nothing at all but take of herself, occasionally talking about her secret with her professor and giving in to the pleasure of the beauty world. She was a 2020’s girl and could not, would not, compromise that for the makeup trends of the 70s and 80s. She hated the bold colors that were used without blending – the big hair and the extreme statements. She was a girl of her time, and that time wasn’t this one. Her things were cut-creases and winged eyeliner, matte foundation and contouring, perfectly shaped eyebrows and soft lips. She had to ask her professor for a couple of favors, but Minerva was more than happy to oblige, remembering her young years as well. She had spent the last days, happily alone – of course she was thinking about everything. Her old life, however, seemed too far away from her now. Like a distant dream. She knew that it was more than just a possibility to never live in her time again, and even though that saddened her, she found herself relieved – she had formed attachments despite her initial thoughts of being distant and alone. Yup, that went well.

The 29th day of December had arrived and she was still contemplating whether or not to go to the party. Thanks to Minerva, who was even more excited than she was, she had now a gorgeous dress and high heels but her gut feeling told her that maybe, she just wanted to go so she could see him. With another girl. And in the process, hurt Remus again. While all that time, she should be investigating everyone and everything so she could find a way to change the story and the outcomes. Oh, well, she was twenty-two, after all. She was one of the very few Gryffindors who had stayed and she had the common room to herself most of the time – just like now; she was enjoying silence with a bottle of sparkling wine. She was ecstatic for not having to buy more bottles but simply conjuring more delicious wine – magic was helpful. Unknown to her, she was being stared at. She had stars behind each eyelid and a galaxy in her soul that drew people to her endless heart, like the pull of a black hole, she was made of earth and fire, of wishes cast on shooting stars. She was a brand-new solar system, unlike the ones he had known so far, with constellations ever changing. No one could memorize her skies and he thought the thing for all of her previous relationships to do was bring her down to size. He could see, they had tried to shrunk the universe within her, told her that her vast expanse was wrong, that she should make her life much smaller, if she wanted to belong. But she had denied them that privilege over her and he was amazed by her strength. He threw himself to the couch and she yelp in surprise. He was the last person she expected to see there. He was enjoying her loss of words very much, trying at the same time to convince himself that his visit was purely out of friendly interest. “What can I say? I felt bad for leaving you alone” he exclaimed rather provocatively. She sneered and arched her eyebrow. That was how they were playing at. “Don’t. I was having fun” she answered truthfully, pointing at her drink. He knew he was supposed to follow her hand but he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was a vision of heartache and blooded marches that hadn’t even started yet; a battlefield of blossomed roses about to sacrifice themselves to the Gods so that their love would survive. “What kind of a friend would I be then, huh? Speaking of, I didn’t know your birthday was a month ago. But guess who did… ouch” he said and even though it was a mockery, he did sound hurt, or rather jealous. She thought about the word he had used – friend. He wasn’t. Even though she so desperately wanted him to be, he wasn’t. “He asked, you didn’t” she fired as soft as a bullet hitting the petals of a rose. Raising her glass to a toast she never proposed, she saluted him and he knew she was in a mood, alright. “Careful there, you were almost being sweet” he provoked her further. She simply turned her entire body towards him, taking notice of everything, his outfit, his hair, his eyes. He could wear a rag and he would still look incredible. Of course, the leather jacket and the black biker boots were making her imagination run wild. She forgot what she wanted to say to him – probably something sarcastic – and instead offered wine, face masks and her room. Bold move – and a risk he accepted. Sirius was a dilemma; a broken crown wanting to reclaim the throne; a shuttered mirror trying to depict life as it once was. She thought how childish he had been described in the books – but she kept forgetting that all of that was supposed to be parts of a book. He felt real, next to her, with a green tissue mask on his face, pretending to be a zombie and drinking wine. He was just a young adult and he had every right in the world to enjoy his life as much as possible – she wanted him to have those moments, for later he would lose all hope. “What is this? I love it!” he proclaimed his love to the bottle of wine he had also claimed for himself only. She tried not to laugh because she, herself, had a tissue mask on her face but it proved to be impossible. “It’s called Moscato d’Asti – and it’s my favorite” she told him as she laid on her bed, closing her eyes, not wanting to meet his. Next thing she knew, he was right beside her, his hand grazing her thigh. She swallowed hard and shot up – straight to the bathroom. Removing the mask and washing her face with cold water, she did a breathing exercise to calm her nerves but her stomach had been replaced by a knot. She looked at the mirror, a reflection she didn’t recognize. Taking a deep breath, she went out finding Sirius pacing back and forth. It would have been a rather serious scene but he still had his mask on, something he realized and looked down embarrassed. After a moment or two in the bathroom, recollecting himself, he exited with a fake smile that made her guts twist, so she blurted out the first thing that came into her mind. “I met your brother. Nice guy” she commented honestly but his cringed. Arching her eyebrow, and raising her hands up, she surrendered. He sat down next to her, eyeing her and wanting nothing more than to tell her the whole truth. “I will answer any question you have but let me give you your birthday present” he gave in once his eyes met hers. He was lying to everyone when he was pretending to be her friend – he wasn’t. Before she could register what was happening, Sirius had an entire tattoo kit to play with. Her mouth hung open, not even close to believing the scene unfolding. “No, no, no, no. First off, you’re drunk. Then I don’t trust you with a needle to draw something permanent on me and no!” she summed up quickly but he wasn’t listening. “I know what I am doing. Trust me” he informed her rather nonchalant. They did have a deal… She bit her lip and rolled her eyes. Fine. She had an excuse now, for revealing her tattoos to him. He hadn’t asked her too but she wanted. “Okay. But you have to see my other tattoos first” she carefully told him, watching hi prepare the equipment; his head shot up in the words. He had never thought she would show him her story – because each tattoo was a part of her story. She had never been good at hiding her feelings… and here she was, swallowing her emotions, mutilating her own self for someone else’s sake. She saw the broken pieces in his eyes and wished she could tell him that he would heal in four months, or two weeks, or by next Monday if he really tried. But she couldn’t and that costed her. For if there was anything, she had learned about moving forward, about letting go, about becoming the person she wanted to become — it was that it happened in the quietest moments. Growth crept into her, it burrowed and it stretched, it cracked her open from the inside, and one day she woke up and she had to open her eyes. Maybe he would need more time or better suited people around him. Slowly, she revealed each of her tattoos to him. She removed the spell concealing them and let him explore her. He was tracing his fingertips on her skin. He had seen the lotus flower and remembered her explanation. Her left ring finger was delicately decorated with a small rose. His hands traveled to the inner part of her forearm just below her right elbow, caressing the bracelet of the phases of the moon and the sunflower that reminded him of the sunflowers Van Gogh used to paint. Her shirt was loose enough for him to push the strips off of her shoulder to reveal the Arabic quote she had tattooed on her left collarbone. Before he could stop himself, he was fondling her inked skin – his hand was too close to her neck – he could see her pulse quicken, he felt her breath on his mouth. He knew she had more tattoos but stopped before leaning too close. “I didn’t run away to leave my brother behind. I was thrown out and I am haunted by the ghost of him. I know I have screwed up but they were right about one thing. I don’t believe that I deserve love – I couldn’t give it when I had to” he confessed, gathering his tools to create a birthday present for her that would last. She didn’t dare to move, looking at him as if any moment now, he would vanish. He carefully took her left hand and cleaned the inner part of her forearm just below her elbow with pure alcohol. With an eye contact to seal their deal, he begun drawing. It hurt but it was a sweet burning sensation that she didn’t really mind. “It’s a lie to think that you don’t deserve love if you aren’t able to love yourself. You deserve it. You deserve companionship and care and relationships that feel good and spaces where you’re cherished and valued. Even if you have days where you want to crawl out of your skin and disappear. Even if there are moments when you feel inadequate and unlovable. You don’t have to be alone just because you’re battling your own darkness. Carrying that weight doesn’t make you defective or too much or unworthy of love and belonging. It makes you human. It makes you someone who’s internalized judgments that were never yours to carry. It makes you someone who’s survived a lifetime of trauma and loss and pain. Someone resilient and inconceivably brave. Someone courageous enough to connect, despite the lies in your head. And there’s no shame in that. So please, don’t withdraw or close yourself off. Self-hatred doesn’t get unlearned through isolation. It’s unlearned through love. Through connection and care. Through having relationships and gathering evidence that you can be imperfect and struggling and still be valued. That you can hurt and be at war with your head and still be wanted. I know it’s hard to trust, but you belong. And no matter how much darkness you’re carrying, you deserve to love and be loved” she told him while he was still focused on the piece, he wanted her to have. His hair falling elegantly on his face, eyes silver as mercury dancing across her skin. ‘There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in’ it read as the quote was mingling with the swirling blues and yellows of the Starry night. It was a bracelet as well but it made her teary – her favorite painting with some of the most meaningful words she had read. He wrapped it and sealed it close but she already knew how to take care of new tattoos. When his eyes met hers, the entire world seized to exist. It was just them and nothing could intervene. She didn’t stop herself from hugging him and thanking him – a whisper that made him melt inside her embrace. “There is a Japanese word; kinsukuroi. It’s the art of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken. I find it strangely reassuring” he tenderly told her and she felt a blissful breeze of refreshing air calming down her lungs. “If you want to see the other tattoos, you can. It’s just that…” she trailed of and cautiously grabbed the hem of her shirt to pull it off. She knew it was too much – she could have just described them to him. But she knew it was a risk she was willing to take because the moment would never be perfect, the circumstances would only worsen and her heart would only break even more. He took a sharp breath in but didn’t stop her; quite the opposite really. He found himself helping her out of her shirt with shaky hands. His touch burned her but she could only look at him and see a future – it scared her. His eyes stayed on hers but slowly they roamed her upper body and suddenly they fell on the canis major constellation, tattooed right in the middle of her chest – underneath her bra. There was a small blue bird in the left side of her rib-cage, probably the one from Bukowski’s poem. He wasn’t able to do anything but stare at her and explore her body. She softly nudged her hair out of the way and his eyes traveled to her neck once again. It was the most intimate thing he had ever done. She twisted her torso so he could see her back – a pair of antlers resting close to her hairline and the planetary system running down her spine. Not just any tattoo. It was almost identical to his. “How is this possible? The moon, the canis major, the antlers, the planets? How?” he asked disoriented, not knowing which tattoo to look at because if he looked at her face, he would kiss her, crush her in his arms. She shrugged and put her shirt back on. He knew those tattoos were done at least a year ago – she didn’t know them. “Maybe not in your reality. But is was in mine” she airily told him, leaving him with questions to which he did know the answer. The girl in front of him hadn’t simply fallen from the sky to his embrace. She had fallen through time. He was too close, his breath on her mouth, her hands on his arm, tracing the patterns of his tattoos. She closed her eyes, not wanting to collide. Not now. Not yet. But she couldn’t say no all at once. She placed a small peck on his cheek and thanked him again. “Care for a cigarette?” she mouthed too close to his lips. No, he didn’t. He cared about her. All the right ways – and all the wrong ones. He was hers in a way he never belonged to anyone ever before. A little. A lot. Passionately. Not all.

___ Taglist: @nadinissavage @mycobrakai1972

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 120

120

There were moments in life Lance sorely wished he could go back and change. There were moments he wished would last longer, and moment when he wished time would speed the hell up. A five way fussing was one of those moments. Rieva, Hunk, Curtis, Shiro and Keith. The four biggest worriers known to man kind, were now stressing him out to the point he was he was glad to be exhausted. Rieva fussed the moment they got home. Curtis fussed because he was Curtis. And Hunk fussed over the fact they needed to go food shopping thanks to the lack of fresh food in his fridge. A trip he wasn’t allowed on, left to watch as Keith was dragged away, trying to argue that he should stay with Lance. In a way, he didn’t want Keith to go, and in another way he hoped Hunk would be able to comfort his boyfriend.

Forced to sit on his sofa, he was snobbed by Blue, Blue instead meowing her discontent to Kosmo, who insisted she was something he needed to groom. The moment he was free of two worriers, Rieva was there putting his legs up and asking if she could get him anything. Curtis had kept his worry limited to worried looks directed at him. Lance still trying to process there was two “macaroons” in his stomach. Shiro seemed on edge, Keith may have slightly cried over the twins on the way home, assuring him he was “relieved” and “processing” and “not mad”. Kind of like a person would when they were the opposite of those things. Rieva fetching him a blanket and insisting he rested pit Curtis on guard. Lance not very good at keeping secrets as it seemed, snapping at his friend to “leave him because he was pregnant and not dying”. At least he didn’t spring it on them all it was twins.

Yeah. He’d put his foot in it. Curtis went into “Full Curtis Mode”, a blood bag brought to him, as well as going about checking he didn’t have a fever and that the blisters on his feet were indeed healed... By the time Keith and Hunk came back, Lance was buried under a pile of blankets on the sofa, trying to “nap out” his friends, unsuccessfully he might have due Curtis asking him what felt like a million questions over his “condition”. Of all the times he’d turned into a bat, now would have been the time to channel that feeling, only when he tried Curtis seemed to think he was in pain.

Things didn’t improve when Shiro went back to Platt. Keith lost the support and distraction of his brother, while Lance lost the will to go against them all. Fucking Keith had told them all how Lance needed fresh blood, then forced his hand into Lance’s mouth mid yawn. He was officially on a feeding schedule, Keith setting alarms on both his damn phones. Coran had said to rest, but how was he supposed to rest when the others were shoving love down his throat every waking moment? When the day of his next scan rolled around, his friends decided that they needed to head to Platt to be with them and support them. He hadn’t even had a moments peace to tell Mami it was twins. He’d called her, then got distracted filling her in on Keith’s birthday weekend. Mami wanting to hear from the birthday boy himself, leading to them having this whole other conversation with Keith hanging up on the end of it. His boyfriend seemed determined to be okay with it being twins, while Lance just wanted to wallow peacefully in his undeath.

And then Krolia happened. He done gone fucked up with that one.

Annoyed over all the fuss and feeling crowded when all he wanted to do was experience the scan with Keith, Krolia had word that they were there. Not bothering with knocking, the woman blinked when coming face to face with 6 pairs of blinking eyes. Lance so annoyed, exhausted, and desperate to pee, he kind of maybe blurred out “I’m fucking pregnant. Either you’re staying for the scan or you’re getting out”. Whelp. She stayed, before disappearing off with Keith, Curtis, and Shiro. Rieva would have stayed with him, if he hadn’t told her to go call Matt and Pidge. Everyone might as well bloody know. He had the major crank, and Coran was the only one who didn’t seem affected by it. No. He chuckled over Lance’s mood, and Lance had finally enough. Storming off to the bathroom, he was still there when Coran came to fetch him.

Sitting in the end toilet stall, Lance found himself crying again. Hearing the heartbeats made it all so real. He’d already gone through half a roll of toilet paper when Coran knocked lightly on the stall door. Sniffling loudly seemed enough of a “welcome” for Coran to let himself in, despite Lance being quite sure he’d locked the door

“Oh, my dear boy. There’s nothing to cry about”

“I can’t fucking stop”

Which he couldn’t. He’d gone and got fiercely attached to those two little lives inside of him

“Oh. Oh, my boy. Hey, everything will be okay”

Coran hugged him tightly. Lance not bothering with the fact he was still sitting on the toilet as he hugged Coran just as tightly in return. He had his pants on, that was the main thing

“I feel like I’m going insane”

“Nonsense. You’re nothing of the sort. You’re adjusting, and that’s okay. You’re okay”

“But I’m not. Coran... I don’t think I’m okay”

“Lance, you will be. Why don’t you and me have a talk of our own? Hey? Just the two of us, like we used to?”

Lance snotted on Coran’s jacket, nodding as he ugly cried against the man who’d pretty much been the family he’d always wanted

“Please? I wanted to talk last time... but... it’s hard finding any time I’m left alone”

“You’re not one for feeling smothered. I’ll make us a nice spot of tea. Here, we’ll go downstairs and find somewhere nice for a long talk”

“Keith...”

“Never mind Keith. You leave him to me”

“He worries too much”

“He’s in love. And you’re both going through a lot. One baby is one thing, two is another, but we’ll talk about it somewhere nicer”

Lance nodded again, letting himself be drawn up by Coran

“You’re okay, my sweet boy. You’re okay. One foot after the other and we’ll be there in no time”

It wasn’t like Lance forgot there were therapy rooms at VOLTRON. It simply wasn’t something he thought about seeing it’d been a long time since he’d been down there for counselling. With an agency as important as the one Coran ran, all sorts of people came to him for help on a regular basis. Everything from hunter to werewolves were safe inside his walls. Coran settled them down in a small office like the office they’d met in when he was younger. They hadn’t always been so close to Platt, but Coran had always been there when they’d needed help working out how to have a vampire in the family.

Curling up in the corner of the sofa, Lance watched as Coran went about making tea. The fae humming some kind of tune to himself as self consciousness set in. He shouldn’t have snapped at Krolia. Krolia was there to see her son. How could she possibly have known what she was walking in on? He’d just felt so smothered and like his personal preferences weren’t being respected. Yeah. People knew babies usually came from sex, but that was something he liked keeping private. Being pregnant kind of felt like screaming that he was “doing the do” to everyone in the space.

Bring the tray of tea over, Coran dropped himself down next to him. Close enough to be felt, but far away enough that Lance felt he could breathe

“Are you feeling better?”

Lance wiped at his eyes, sighing more to himself over his behaviour than Coran questions

“A bit. I know the others care but... I haven’t been... doing that great mentally and their care has been too much to cope with right now. I feel so lost and un-me. I don’t even remember what I used to feel like”

“Would you like to tell me more?”

Lance nodded, the tension that’d left him highly strung finally felt like it was disappearing

“I love Keith. I love him and I want the best for him... but he didn’t sign up for twins. Curtis won’t stop fussing. Rieva is too enthused and insists on taking care of me. Hunk accepted it too easily. I wanted Keith to talk to Krolia in private and be able to tell her himself, in his own words and in his own way. I’m not supposed to be here. Pidge is still in the moon boot. I spent Keith’s birthday weekend bouncing from one extreme to another and I feel like I’ve hurt everyone in my life by existing. Plus, I’ve hardly been acting my age. It’s like since I met Keith I’ve turned into an idiot. I’m doing and saying things I’ve never done or felt. I feel territorial and my ego gets so mad over the smallest things. I wanted to work on myself and grow my relationship with Keith, and I was really looking forward to feeling useful getting back into work, especially when we both know what this time of year can be like. I don’t want to drink fresh blood. It makes me feel so fucking ashamed for needing it like I’ve never needed it before, then everyone cops my cocky ego until I fall asleep because I don’t feel rested thanks to everyone trying to manage my life around me instead of asking me how or what they can do to actually be there. I love them all so much. I know their hearts are in the right place, and all of them are important to me, but I can’t help feel they’re all stuck in a war their not supposed to know about. Plus if they’re not trying to figure out how to help Curtis, Rieva is researching Lotor with Matt. She’s so shaken by him that I feel like I put her in danger by having her near me. I don’t know how to be a dad. I don’t know how to have a baby. I don’t know how to have two and when I look at Keith, I want to throw everything out the window and all I want to do is feel better so he can breath easier... and now I’m talking too much about me and I’m just being really selfish and stupid right now. I should know better. I used to know better... I just want everything to stop so I can finally catch up”

Coran pulled him into an uncomfortable hug. Mostly because he was trying to look Lance in the eye but his body didn’t really bend that way with the angle of the hug

“You’ve always over thought everything in life. I remember the little boy who cried for the people who gave blood because you thought they must have been hurt for their to be so much blood. I know this is a very difficult time for you. I let you down by not prioritising working on stabilising your body and developing a contraceptive sooner. In the last six months you’ve have your brother attempt to have your life taken, then finally learned how good it feels to be accepted by more than those who knew your secret and loved you anyway. I care for a lot of vampires, werewolves, and humans, but you my boy will always be special in my heart”

God... if Coran didn’t have all the right words no one did. He loved this man, despite his weirdness and extremes, and his lack of personal boundaries

“I know you’ve been struggling with your mental health, and issues you had in the past accepting yourself, and I know you let it get to the point where you exhaust yourself and need a dirt nap. I remember the first time you had a test in college. You called me up to ask for my advice. I felt so proud you’d come to me... I was so very proud to see you following your own path. But I also saw how your heart hardened when you finally realised you had to leave your friends behind. I saw how guarded you became. How scared of society you felt. That fear that Nyma and Rolo were out there. All of these things cut you deeply. More deeply than any quintessence manipulation could heal. But even when you hit these lows, and trust me, this is a blip in comparison for your first lot of final exams, you always pulled yourself back and gripped that ego of yours. You sheltered yourself away. You’ve lived without letting yourself truly live and experience because no matter how much we adore you, you feel you have no right to exist. But you have every single right”

Lance sniffled loudly, before mumbling softly

“I’m scared of me”

“I know you are. I wish I could tear that fear from you”

“I don’t think I like being able to turn into a bat. Or drinking fresh blood... or releasing pheromones. I lasted so long and I was okay with everything, but... I couldn’t let Keith die. He’s a human”

“You did a very brave and silly thing, but also a very you thing. How many vampires do you think would save the hunter their to kill them?”

“Some would...”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps they’d feed then let them die. You showed Keith a great kindness”

“He’s honestly amazing. He used to be so timid. He didn’t feel wanted or loved. He felt suffocated too... sometimes his love scares me. It scares me that he could burn out before his time... He’s so fucking smart... then he gets upset because he didn’t graduate high school and doesn’t have a lot of money. I would give him the world if I could, but I don’t want him to feel like... like I’m trying to buy his love with gifts. I want him to be truly happy, because I’m happy when I’m with him but I’ve been bringing him down by not being well”

Coran rubbed his arm, Lance closing his eyes. He almost felt lulled, akin to the way Mami would rock him after he’d wake up screaming. She’d hold him tight. Her scent and warm skin against his cool body. Softly she’d rock him as she sung to him, reassuring him was loved

“It isn’t uncommon at all for the partner to feel guilt while watching their pregnant partner adjust. Keith would take it all on himself if he could”

“He’s still working out how to be accept that I’m not going to die, again. I just want him to accept he can’t fix this in any other way than existing”

“He carries a great number of wounds to his soul. He’s been left behind by the ones he loved. Perhaps counselling will help?”

Keith had to be ready. He’d come so far with being able to socialise that Lance was beyond proud. He loved when Keith talked in their group chat, or he’d make Lance wait a moment because he was replying to Pidge or Hunk.

“I think he’s ready to reconnect with Krolia, or make that really big step. I disrespected his feeling by telling Krolia... I’m tired of being fussed over. I barely feel rested because I drift off suddenly only to be woken up again, or I can’t switch my head off enough to sleep properly. I know you weren’t trying to hurt me on Monday, but I’ve been trying. I swear I’ve been trying to eat more and keep it down”

“I’m sorry. I was very much alarmed that you’d be dehydrated, and so ill. That and I was perhaps being a tad overbearing because you mean so much to me”

“I don’t know what to do. Keith and I are having twins, and I still feel like I need to work on me. I was struggling with my mental health a lot. Having a boyfriend is amazing, but the anxiety... I want to work out that balance between everything. I had it clear before. Mami. Pidge. Hunk. Blue. You and Allura. Work. Keeping Pidge and Hunk safe. Everything was defined”

“Everything was defined, and I know you were happy, but life can’t always be easily defined. Should I see about getting you a room to rest in here?”

That sounded amazing. Guilt bloomed at how good that sounded. Fuck... He was smart dumb. If he’d set an IV line up he could have slept and ate at the same time

“Everyone will worry”

“I am asking what you would like?”

“Keith would want to stay by my side”

He would. He couldn’t make this decision alone. It wasn’t fair on any of their group if he was making decisions that seemed to disregard the thoughts and feelings of others

“I think perhaps Keith also requires rest, and you two need to go have a hard talk. He will not be offended if you are honest with him”

“I know. I also love isn’t telling your partner what you think will keep the mood and happiness between you stable. That’s not a real relationship. I know I can tell him anything, but I know I feel so mixed up right now that I want to understand myself before I do explain... but... I also want to tell him everything and have him help me figure it out too, because we make a good team when we’re working together... then I feel like it’s my ego, and that I’m being selfish for wanting to have an honest conversation with him when I know he’s going to work out the answers for me before I do”

He missed the before. Before he felt so sick. He knew the symptoms would abate, but that was further down, and it’s not like he could make up for the now

“There’s nothing wrong with relying on Keith. He’d love to help you work through things. I’ve seen you both do so along the journey this relationship has taken, and I am confident you will get through this. I’ll have a bed readied. You may rest here as long as you need. I was going to ask if perhaps you and your friends would spend the night here for Halloween. For safety. I am not saying Sendak will make a move, but I felt perhaps they’d feel better knowing they’d have a safe place”

“What about Lotor?”

“Pish-Posh. He does not scare me. Not anymore, though I do worry for Allura. She’s making Lotor work on bettering himself. The incident with the opera was the last metaphoric straw. She’s bossed him into actively assisting the Blades, though he won’t hand over Sendak’s primary location. It is quite amusing to watch him humble himself before her”

“Allura is a queen. She’s amazing. Lotor should be grateful to kiss her boots”

Coran chuckled

“She is my pride and joy. The pair of you are. I love you as if you were my own”

“I love you too, Coran. I’m sorry I’m not... well, I’m not doing that good”

“You don’t need to apologise. Recognising something is wrong is a major step in making things right. You’ve always been more accepting of others than yourself. Now, let’s enjoy our tea, then we’ll have a nice break before finding our Keith and sitting down with him”

“Thanks for listening”

“Any time my boy. My phone has been awfully lonely without your calls”

“I know... I’m always getting caught up something or sleeping. It’s frustrating”

“Better than three months making grave soil?”

“I don’t know, at least I’d be able to sleep all I wanted”

Coran chuckled again

“You’ll be just fine, my boy”

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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withhowsadsteps · 4 years

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marry me - matthew connelly (hatym)

a/n: like all of my previous texts too this was not proofread, lol sorry. also this is kinda all over the place, woops. a side note: I have no clue how college/uni works in Ireland but I tried to read a little bit quite quickly from the website of Trinity College (the English studies) – I also didn’t wanna be ignorant and fuck up so I just did not use any irish slang etc.

warnings: mention of rape, drugs and alcohol. and suicide. spoilers kinda if you haven’t read the book (I cant fucking wait to see the movie if I’ll ever see it in my country…)

-- --

I met Matthew in college. I wanted to better my writings, so I decided to attend a course for creative writing, even though I knew that none of the other first-years were going to do so. I felt like a child lost in a shop without a guardian, just a small freshman. I felt That is where Matthew came into the picture. The last free seat was in the front row, to my left. I had taken the window seat, being one of the first students in the smallish lecture room. He was the last to come in, so he had no choice but to sit next to me. Like most of the others, his third year at the college had just started. “I have not seen you here before”, he said to me and basically swept me off of my feet just by looking at me.

He asked me out six months after we first met. I was unsure why he would ask me out, but I agreed. He took me to the movies and afterwards we just sat outside in a park, watching the stars shining over us. That is when he told me that he is trying to change is life, that he felt like getting to college is like getting a second chance at life. He said that he was surprised he got in, but that he would try his hardest to succeed. I did not ask for his backstory. I figured he would tell me, if he wanted to.

I fell for him, slowly. He let me read his texts sometimes. He said that he used to be a shitty writer, but I didn’t believe him. His poems were intense, dark, but very beautiful. Mine weren’t too happy either. I was healing from my own past. I let him read them sometimes, but not too often. I didn’t want him to think that I was too clingy. I didn’t know if he liked me as much as I liked him, I couldn’t risk anything.

One late Friday night he called me. He was very drunk. I had not seen or heard him like that ever before. He was crying and mumbling. I couldn’t understand anything else but, “I have to see you; I have to tell you something”. So, I sneaked out of the house, trying not to wake up my family. He apologized to me that he was drunk. He said that he knew that he promised never again to be so drunk. He said that he would never in his life touch drugs again but that he almost did tonight. “Love, what on earth are you saying”, I whispered. And that is when he told me about his friends, about all the drugs and alcohol. About the little girl he saw die, about basically murdering his own friend. About how he fucked up with Jen, how he couldn’t fuck her because of the drugs in his system. I didn’t know what to say. I was shocked, but at the same time I wasn’t. I had read his text and they made even more sense now.

For a week he didn’t answer my calls, my texts. I didn’t see him at the college. Then finally, he came back to me, but did not explain why in the hell he had been avoiding me. I told him that I didn’t mind his past. “I just need you to speak to me Matt, please. I need you to tell me the truth”, I said to him.

My past wasn’t too perfect either. I got drunk for the first time when I was 13. That was when I first met my first love. He was 14 at the time and he was ‘a bad boy’. He smoked and drank and of course I wanted to look cool in his eyes. I got too drunk to understand what was going on. We dated for four years, until I found out that he had raped me that night. But I couldn’t tell Matthew, not now. I wanted to be strong for him, my own troubled past could wait. He promised me he wouldn’t do anything stupid again, and I believed him.

We started dating. I told him about my past, how I was still trying to process everything. He held me tightly trough many sleepless nights, wiping the tears from my cheeks. He never tried to touch me without being completely sure of what I wanted. He made me feel safe, I trusted him.

Our relationship started getting kind of rocky while I was still in college and he had already graduated. He would ignore me for weeks at a time. He would get very drunk, and perhaps he would even get high, considering he was still sometimes hanging out with Rez and Cokcer. I still loved him though. No matter how troubled he was. I think he got worse every time he hung out with his old friends.

And here I’m standing outside, waiting for him. Thinking of all of our memories. I haven’t heard of him in a month. I don’t know what to do. I’m still so in love with him. I’m so in love with him, that I cry myself to sleep almost every night. My friends are getting married, getting pregnant. I crave that too, but I can’t imagine myself without Matthew. “Hey, princess”, his voice makes me jump a little. And then it shatters my heart in million pieces. The only person in the whole wide world who could call me princess without me hating it is him. “Look, Matt”, I start, my voice weak and already wanting to crack. I tried to hold back my tears. “You have to let me go, Matt”, I whisper. He doesn’t say a word, instead he cups my face into his hands and stares into my eyes like he has not seen them in a hundred years. “I had to clear my mind, darling”, he says, “I love you.” “You are breaking me, Connelly”, a faint sob escapes my lips.

And somehow, even after all the heartbreak I forgive him. I listen to his empty promises of getting better. My heart wins all the arguments between itself and my brains. I love him way too much. What will be enough for him? I have given him all of me, every single bit of me. I’ve let him heal me from my past, but he won’t let me help him heal. Or maybe he is letting me, maybe I just really am not enough. I don’t even know.

“Rez died. This time he really did take his own life”, Matthew says to me just as I am about to fall asleep beside him. My heart skips a beat or two. “I really needed to clear my mind. I didn’t want to drag you with me if I was to relapse”, he continues. I nuzzle closer to him and feel his arms wrap around me, his face finding its way in the crook of my neck. I can feel his tears against my skin. “Matt…”, I start but he shushes me, “I don’t want to talk about it right now”.

And when I wake up the next morning, he has not disappeared. He still is here, right beside me. Arms tightly holding me, warming me. “Marry me, princess”, he murmurs sleepily. “We’ll buy a house, start a family. Fuck. You’re the only thing that matters”, he continues now much more confidently. I open my eyes and turn my head so I can place my lips on his. A passionate kiss. Passionate, but gentle all at the same time. I pour my love for him into that kiss. “I will”.

#hatym #here are the young men #dean charles chapman #dean-charles chapman #dean chapman #dean charles chapman x reader #matthew connelly

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bellemorte180 · 4 years

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Wanderlust Chapter Fourteen

The Lockwood Manor was just as uninspiring as Klaus remembered. Perhaps it was the quiet disbelief that settled over the small town of Mystic Falls after the arrest and the murder of Matthew Donovan but he found that nothing seemed particularly special about the manor at all. At first chaos broke out, news reports scrambling to get a shot of the body of the newly discovered serial killer. Hundreds upon hundreds of questions were fired out on who exactly Matthew Donovan was.

Who was he and what drove him to commit such heinous murders? Everyone wanted answers to a thousand questions that would be posed in the coming months. A reporter got a glimpse of Caroline and suddenly, she found that she couldn’t even go to the simplest places, like her mother’s home without being bombarded by reporters. Klaus was stuck at the police station, cleaning up a mess that would leave an everlasting stain.

Once the chaos subsided and sun set; an eerily clam engulfed the town. Klaus sat in Liz’s office the entire night with a hot cup of coffee in his hand. He had planned to spend the night with Caroline; one last night with her before he headed towards New Orleans. However, he was listening to the director of the FBI ream Vincent and him out on the handling of this case. It turned out to be a bureaucratic nightmare. A part of Klaus felt guilty for leaving Vincent to deal with the fallout, but Klaus meant what he said, once this was solved, he was done with the FBI.

One more task and he was no longer an agent of the bureau; almost one more task.

Klaus left the police station as the sun was just peaking over the trees. He escaped before the vultures descended; in search of a story. The town looked peaceful and idealic; that serene look that TV shows and movies like to portray small towns to be. For a moment, Klaus could look at this town and think that nothing bad could happen in Mystic Falls. He understood why someone would want to settle down here, get married and have children. Then he thought on Matt and how that opinion got warped and twisted and suddenly Mystic Falls held little appeal for him.

Except for Caroline.

Klaus passed her house, knowing that she would not be there. After Matt was killed and Caroline ushered out of the police station, she found that she was not able to go to her home (not that she wanted to) or even her mother’s for the simple fact that some reporter would be waiting for her. Even though her monster was dead and had a long road ahead of her in the healing process, its infuriated Klaus that she could not even let her guard down without someone demanding her opinion.

It was why Klaus found himself standing in the middle of a grand living room watching Tyler copy all the tapes he made a of himself having sex with various women onto flash drives that Klaus brought with him. It became clear, just by the setting of the bedroom on the tapes, that Hayley was not the only woman he cheated on Caroline with. The thought was disgusting to Klaus. If in the future their relationship gets to the point that he hoped it would, he would have no need to have other women in his bed.

Fidelity was something very important to Klaus; both giving and receiving it.

“Ensure that the videos with Caroline are on one of the drives alone. Put the rest on the other.” Klaus told him and Tyler wisely did not comment. “I’m turning the videos over to the Mystic Falls police. They will distribute them to the women who are on them. If it is discovered you have more tapes of women who do not realize that they are on camera when they slept with you, trust me that Liz Forbes will ensure that you go down for them as well.”

“What does it matter? I’m facing jail time already.” Tyler told Klaus in a broken tone. Klaus gazed at him and saw the stress, worry and fear lingering in each line of his face. Two metal splints were sitting across is nose, attempting to heal the nasal fracture that Klaus caused him when he slammed his face against the interrogation table. Seeing them gave Klaus a delighted sort of pleasure.

“Yes. You are.” Klaus told him and it was hard to keep the glee out of his tone. “You are being charged with aiding and abetting in the murder of a federal agent. Don’t worry though. I’m sure mommy will hire you a good lawyer and after a decade behind bars, less if you’re on your very best behavior, you’ll be out. Living back in the manor probably. You’ll never find a good job but then again you don’t work anyway. I’m sure your girlfriend will be here to welcome you with open arms. How is that going anyway? What was her name? Ah yes, Ms. Parker.”

“She dumped me.”

“Good for her.”

“Do you have to be such a dick about this?” Tyler snapped and narrowed his eyes at Klaus. It was clear that Tyler did not think highly on the agent; but seeing Tyler squirm brought a certain level of enjoyment to Klaus. “I’m doing what you ask. I’m going to give you the videos and doing everything my attorney tells me. Why are you being such an asshole?”

“When I leave Mystic Falls, I’m going to New Orleans. There is a woman by the name of Celeste Dubois who lives there. She is an older woman in her seventies, and she is Marcel’s grandmother. She raised Marcel when his mother abandoned him. She didn’t have much. In fact, I think her entire house could fit in your living room and dining room combined.” Klaus told him, seeing how Tyler’s eyes scanned the room for its size. “The one thing she did have was a loving grandson. You helped take that from her. I will sit with her and listen to her cry. I will hold her hand as she buries the remarkable young man she raised. So, yes. I do have to be a dick about it.”

Tyler said nothing in return, instead focusing on the remaining videos. Klaus watched him and could see the guilt passing through his mind. It was true that Tyler did not know exactly Matt’s plans the night he told Tyler to throw the rock through Caroline’s window and that would be factored into his sentence, but Tyler was going to jail.

“Here. This is all of them.” Tyler handed Klaus the two black flash drives that he had brought with him. Klaus put the flash drives in his bag and walked over to Tyler and looked over his shoulder. Klaus reached down, unplugged the laptop and snapped it shut. “Hey! What are you doing?!”

“Do you honestly believe that we would let you keep this? Oh no. This is property of Mystic Falls police now. Once they go through and ensure that everything is off it, it will be returned to Mayor Lockwood.” Klaus smirked at him and shoved the laptop in his bag. He walked towards the front of the house, calling at Tyler over his shoulder. “Have a good day, Tyler. I hope to never have to speak to you again.”

“Wait!?” Tyler called and Klaus paused. “What is going to happen to Jeremy and Elena?”

“Elena will get off easy compared to the rest of you. She is looking at probation and probably will never be able to practice medicine, ever. The hospital she worked at is under investigation for taking Damon Salvatore’s bribe. He is also facing a few charges for that but with everything going on, he’ll get a slap on the wrist.” Klaus paused looking at Tyler. “Jeremy is looking at a similar sentence to yourself, about five or so years of jail time.”

“I was just trying to protect myself. Okay? Matt was blackmailing me and I didn’t….I didn’t want to be sitting in this exact position.”

“Let me put something in prospective for you. Jeremy did what he did, because he loved Anna. He was convinced that she was going to be next. Its actions were wrong, and he should never have supplied Matt with the Dilaudid nor should he have continued to help bury the bodies; but I can at least understand why he did it. People do crazy things for the ones they love.” Klaus thought and his mind immediately flashed to Caroline. “You on the other hand, did everything because you’re selfish.”

“I was just trying to protect myself. Anyone else would have done the same. Jeremy did”

“There is no excuse Mr. Lockwood. None. Because if Matt never started killing those women, you still would have been making those sex tapes. One day it would have caught up with you and you still would have lost everything. Jeremy on the other hand, would have still gotten clean, lived his life and probably married that woman he loves so much. Think on that while you sleep in jail cell.”

“One more thing.”

“What?”

“Is it true? What they found in Matt’s storage unit yesterday?” Klaus looked at Tyler. He shouldn’t have been surprised. It was all over the news that the FBI stormed Matt’s home and storage units, even after he had died. It was no secret and it would have been all over town by now what was found.

“Yeah. It is.” Klaus turned around and left, hoping that it was the last time he would ever have to gaze upon Tyler’s face again. He walked back out into the sunlight and scowled at the sight. Reporters were starting to pull up to the Lockwood property, hoping to see Tyler; knowledge that the Mayor’s son was involved in the murder of four women was bound to be newsworthy. In his honest opinion, it was the least Tyler deserved to have his name plastered all over the country and in the most negative light possible.

Klaus walked briskly to his SUV, hoping to avoid being cornered. He heard a reporter or two shout the word ‘agent’, calling him in hopes of getting a word. Klaus ignored them. Within the hour, he knew the manor would be swarming with reporters. The thought made him smile; it was petty, but he could not help but enjoy the fall out.

Klaus drove through town again, sending a quick text before leaving. The town seemed more alive; people milling about on the sidewalks and more cars seemed to be on their way to work. Klaus could see remains of a structure that used to hold this town up; but it was drowning in the memory that was Matthew Donovan. Mystic Falls would survive but it would forever follow that dark cloud that would never really go away.

He pulled up outside of Bonnie’s bakery, seeing Vincent sitting out front with a coffee in hand and what appeared to be a donut. Klaus was sure that Bonnie saw him and provided him with anything he wanted while he waited. He looked tired and Klaus could not blame him; they both had a very long night. Vincent wanted nothing more than to go back to D.C and put this town behind him.

Taking a long deep breath, Klaus climbed out of his SUV and strolled over to the bench Vincent was sitting on; bag from the Lockwood Manor in hand. He sat down beside his former boss, who picked up a disposable cut beside him and handed it to Klaus. Coffee. Klaus smirked at Vincent and took the cup happily. It was good to see that even though Vincent would probably curse the remainder of Klaus’s existence, he didn’t hate him completely.

“Thank you.” Klaus told him but Vincent didn’t reply. Klaus handed him the bag with the laptop and one of the flash drives. “Here is Tyler Lockwood’s laptop. There is a flash drive with copies of all the videos on there. I had him separate the videos of Caroline and I’ll ensure she gets it.”

“Good.” Vincent told him with a nod. “I’ll give the laptop to the DA and she will decide what charges to press. I told Slater that he was going to go through these videos and identify the women. We will ensure that each are made aware of the videos and that they get a copy. They can decide what to do with them. Keep them or burn them.”

“What about the copies that belong to the police and the FBI?” Klaus knew what he was asking, as did Vincent. He was not asking about the plethora of videos of Tyler having sex; he pitied Slater for having to watch those. The last thing Klaus would want to see is Tyler Lockwood thrusting into some woman who unknowingly was being filmed. Klaus was asking about the tapes of Caroline. He had a copy to give to her, but that did not mean they were gone forever.

“If Mr. Lockwood does not take the plea deal the DA, the video of him and Ms. Marshall will most likely be used in his trial.” Klaus nodded in understanding. “As for the rest, they will be under lock and key. No one will have access them to in order to protect the women. Including Ms. Forbes.”

“Good.” Klaus replied, a sickening thought in his stomach. The thought of Caroline on a video during an intimate moment made him feel ill. While it was one thing to take a video while have sex with both parties’ consent, it was a crime when one party was unaware of the fact that they were being filmed. “And what of the other one?”

“You mean the one of you and Ms. Forbes having sex in her bedroom that sent a serial killer with mommy issues on a downward spiral?” Vincent told him in a monotone that told Klaus that he was still bitter over it. Klaus rolled his eyes at him, showing him that he really did not care. “Trust me when I say the director wants that buried. The murder of Matthew Donovan already has made the FBI look like incompetent fools, the director does not want the public to know that the lead agent was screwing one of the victims.”

“It was more than that.” Klaus told him. The director of the FBI reamed Klaus a new one the previous night on his conduct with a witness. While Klaus had enough pride to know that he deserved the scolding, he did not like how his relationship with Caroline painted as something trivial and dirty; Caroline meant more than that to him. “It wasn’t just about sex with her. It was so much more than that.”

“I believe you but at the end of the day, your actions with her set off a chain of events that I now have to clean up.” There was no malice or anger in Vincent’s voice. Klaus was sure that he just did not have it in him to be angry anymore. “It is a good thing you quit. Don’t take this the wrong way, you’re a good agent and I’ll give a reference if you need one, but if you stayed with the FBI, you would be facing some serious disciplinary action.”

“Yup.” Klaus smirked at him, not caring about what action the director would have taken if Klaus stayed. He wasn’t. He was done and knowing that he no longer was going to chase monsters, he felt this weight lift off his shoulders that he did not realize that he was carrying. “Once I am done in New Orleans, I want no part of that life anymore.”

“Can you let me know when Marcel’s funeral will be? I’d like to attend.” Klaus nodded in agreement. It would be good for his grandmother to see that Marcel was a loved agent. “What are your plans once you’re done?”

“I’m not sure. I plan on staying in New Orleans for a bit. Help Marcel’s grandmother where I can but after that, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go back to England or find some city in the States. Look for work. I haven’t really thought that far.” Vincent nodded. “You? How much trouble are you in?”

“I’ll be fine. As long as a case does not go sideways like this one, I will keep my position until I decide to retire. Although, honestly, this case has given me enough grey hairs that maybe I can pass for retirement age early.” Klaus snorted at that, giving Vincent a look of disbelief.

“You would lose your mind three days into retirement. No. You’ll never retire. In a few years, this mess will be forgotten, some new tragedy will emerge, and you’ll be offered a promotion. You’re on the fast track to becoming the director and you know it.” Klaus shook his head and drank from his coffee cup again. “Retirement. Please. You’ll probably die at your desk, found by the cleaning crew late one night.”

“You’re a pain in my ass. You that know, that right?” Vincent just looked at Klaus with a mixture of annoyance and amusement; but could not contradict Klaus’s prediction. “If you were still my agent, I’d throttle you.” Klaus snorted again, his amusement growing with Vincent’s comments. Vincent just rolled his eyes at him and picked up the bag with the laptop inside it. “I’ll make a pit stop at the District Attorney’s office before overseeing Mr. O’Connell’s transportation to the prison that will be his home for a while. It’s a shame. A man like that, throwing his life away for scum like Matt Donovan.”

“I’m not saying I would have done it, but I understand why he did.” Klaus told Vincent honestly, and his former boss nod; making Klaus wonder if he had any siblings. From everything Klaus knew, Vincent had an ex-wife and a daughter he saw six weeks each summer and on holidays. Other than that, he was married to his job and always would be. “I’ll see you at Marcel’s funeral.”

“I’ll see you then.” Vincent stood from the bench and grabbed the bag. He walked over to the trashcan and tossed his now empty coffee cup into the bin. Klaus watched as he climbed into a SUV and pulled out of the spot; driving off into town. Klaus took another long drink of his coffee and tossed it into the same bin that Vincent discarded his. He looked around and there were several people moving to and from places, Klaus figured he would have to get out of dodge before long if he did not want to be cornered by a stray reporter. Hopefully, the reports all swarmed the Lockwood Manor and left the rest of the town in peace.

Klaus walked over to the bakery door, seeing Bonnie moving around inside and knocked. The sign on the door indicated that the bakery was still closed, which Klaus found unusual. The bakery should be open at this time, eager for early morning customers. Bonnie looked up and moved around to let Klaus inside the bakery.

“Closed?”

“Yeah. I don’t plan on opening for a few days. Anna is taking some personal time and frankly, Caroline needs a hide out with reporters hounding her at every turn. We left Enzo at Liz, hoping the barking dog would chance them off.” Bonnie told him bitterly. “You would think that her status as ‘victim’ would garner some sympathy from reporters; but nope, it was chaos yesterday once we left the station.”

“I believe that. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be here.” Bonnie waved her hand, ignoring his apology. Both Caroline and Bonnie knew why he was stuck at the police station. Sean O’Connell murdering Matt in the middle of a police station on top of a confession was a perfect excuse as to why he did not stay with Caroline has he had originally planned. “How is she?”

“Annoyed. I think her frustration with the reports masked her shock over Matt and what happened yesterday. She took a sleeping pill but was up and about when I came down here.” Klaus nodded, his eyes looking towards the ceiling. He had learned, via text message, that Caroline would be staying at Bonnie’s until the media hype died down and that Bonnie lived in the flat above her bakery. Liz was pretty much living out of her office; writing citations towards any reporter who came within five feet of Caroline. “Is it true? About what they found in Matt’s storage unit?”

“Yeah. It is.” He echoed the same words he had said to Tyler when he had asked that very same question. Klaus had not been with the agents who searched Matt’s house and units; having been already deep in a phone conference with Vincent and the director but what they had found came to no surprise to Klaus. “The body of Kelly Donovan was found locked in a freezer in Matt’s storage unit. She had been there, in freezer at least, for ten years? Matt had the storage unit for only a few years, so I have a suspicion he moved the freezer from his home at some point.”

“I remember in when we were in school that Kelly would up and leave all the time. When Vicki and Matt were little, she would take them with her. God knows what they saw. When they were older, she would come and go, always having some new boyfriend and Matt would be forced to care for Vicki. When she stopped showing up, no really questioned it. Especially since Vicki was going down the same path. God. All those times he slept on Caroline’s couch because Kelly never came home; it was because he killed her.”

“We have no definite proof that Matt killed his mother.” Bonnie shot Klaus a disbelieving look which made him smirk. “But it does look like it. He probably flew into a rage and killed her, but not knowing what to do, stuffed her in a spare freezer. When Vicki was going to abandon Matt, much like Kelly had done most of their lives, he lost it. Killing her triggered something in Matt. From there, he kept devolving. Then April threatening to leave, it created a pattern.”

“I just…. how is it that everything has changed?” Bonnie whispered, shaking her head. “None of us knew such evil existed right in front of our eyes. I just keep thinking about how this could have happened and how none of us saw it.”

“That is how it goes.” Klaus told her. He reached out and squeezed Bonnie’s shoulder. “Monsters like Matt know how to keep themselves hidden. After killing his mother, it makes sense that he would want to become a cop. Everything was derived from her continuously leaving him and Mystic Falls. Mystic Falls became a part of his identity and he wanted to protect this town because it was protecting himself. Seeing Vicki leave and then April threatening to leave him, it all unraveled from there. Pushing him further and further into his delusions.”

“It’s never going to be the same, is it?”

“No. It’s not.” Klaus replied in a soft tone. He thought on Matt and how his actions caused a domino effect to ripple through the town. His perversions touched each person differently; letting the town know that it was forever changed. Klaus knew that there would be psychologist over the years diving into Matt’s history to write theories on what exactly happened to him. Yet, it seemed obvious to Klaus. It all came down to abandonment and Matt’s desire to keep his mother and then Vicki as close to him as possible.

His victims left Mystic Falls and therefore, him. He wanted them close and was terrified of abandonment. Killing his victims, he was able to keep their bodies with him; visiting them whenever he pleased. These women had all left him and rejected him and Mystic Falls in some form, thus their death making it impossible for them to leave and the desire to be as close to them as possible in that moment. He feared their abandonment when they were living, having sex with them when they were dead was the ultimate connection for him.

“Right. Well, I guess we will have to take it day by day.” Bonnie muttered as she walked across the bakery. She picked up her purse and turned to look at Klaus. “Elena called. She wants to talk to me. I’m still insanely pissed at her, but I think she is actually going to try and make things right. The least I can do is hear her out. I know Caroline is far from ready for that and Elena said she understood. Whether or not she actually means it, we will see.”

“I’m never going to like Elena.”

“I wouldn’t expect you too.” Bonnie snorted. She searched Klaus’s face, looking for something; any sign that Klaus was in this for the long haul with Caroline. He gave nothing away; not without talking to Caroline first. “I’m going to be at the Boarding House. Caroline is upstairs, go through that door and up the stairs. She had mentioned that you were stopping by.” Klaus nodded, thanking her and Bonnie just smiled. “Oh, and if there is any funny business. Stay off my bed.”

Klaus laughed as Bonnie walked out the door, locking it behind her. Klaus turned and followed Bonnie’s instructions; finding the door that would lead him towards the upstairs apartment. The wooden stairs creaked as he made his way upstairs; not wanting to go quietly, in order to let Caroline, know that he was there; not wanting to scare her. He knocked on the only door at the top of the stairs and within seconds, Caroline opened the door.

She looked well rested and possibly the most at ease he had ever seen her. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail. She wore comfortable looking jeans and one of her simple pink tank-tops and a white cardigan to accommodate Bonnie’s AC that was turned up to freezing temperatures. Caroline’s blue eyes lit up at the sight of Klaus and quickly pulled him into her arms. She buried her head into the crook of his neck.

He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent that was uniquely Caroline. She pulled away and stepped aside so he could enter the apartment. It was small but he expected that seeing that it was over the bakery. It was an open floor plan, with the kitchen overlooking the living room. It had hardwood flooring, peach colored walls and a tall bookshelf on the other side of the living room. There was no dining table but an island that had bar stools on the one said.

“Thank you for coming. I really wanted to see you before you left.” Caroline told him reaching for him again. Klaus pulled her into a light hug, Caroline wrapping her arms around his middle. “They swarmed mom’s house. It was suffocating. Like, why won’t they just leave me alone? Matt is dead. What else could they possibly want?”

“A story.” Klaus told her. “They want you to sit pretty for them and tell them in detail what happened to you.”

“Yeah, well, they can go fuck themselves.”

“I agree.” Klaus gave her a light chuckle and he kissed the top of her head again. Caroline pulled away and walked over to the counter where he saw freshly made bagels on the counter. She pointed and he nodded; watching as she popped a few into the toaster. Klaus sat down at the bar stool. “How are you holding up? Knowing that Matt is dead I mean?”

“I’m okay right now. It will catch up to me though. I think that I’m running on adrenaline or something because everything just seems so, surreal?” Klaus nodded understanding what she meant. “I just keep thinking about Matt. He was the sweet kid who would pick flowers for all the girls on the playground. In high school, he came and saw me in the hospital. He was just so kind and gentle.” Caroline pulled the cream cheese out of Bonnie’s fridge and sat it on the counter. “Then I think about how he was when I was in the cellar. He would rock me like he loved me, but he got so angry when he had me hostage at the house.”

“I think that when he had you down in that cell, he wasn’t seeing you.” Caroline looked at him in confusion. Klaus took a sigh and pulled out his phone, bringing up a photo of Kelly Donovan when she was young. She was tall, blonde hair with blue eyes. She bore a sticking resemblance to Vicki, only with softer coloring. “He was seeing his mother. Begging her to stay.”

“I don’t understand.”

“This is only a theory and with Matt dead, there is no real way to prove why he did this.” Caroline nodded, pulling the bagels from the toaster and handing Klaus half. “Kelly Donovan would often pack Matt and Vicki up, taking them all over the place as kids. It wasn’t until they were older that she would leave them behind. One day, we think he just snapped; not able to keep watching her walk away.” Klaus was right when he told Bonnie they had no proof that he killed Kelly Donovan, but the circumstantial evidence pointed to it. It was not unusual for serial killers to have large gaps between kills, especially early on. “Seeing Vicki follow down the same path, it was the trigger for him to start killing. April was going to leave him. Andi had already left him once. Cami, honestly looked like his mom and she refused to say in Mystic Falls. You resemble both Cami and Kelly, with the nature of your work taking you all over…”

“I was the perfect candidate.” Caroline paused. “But what about Elena? She broke up with him. Abandoned him just like the rest. Why not her?”

“Because she never really left Mystic Falls.” Klaus bit into the bagel, watching Caroline carefully. “She had no intentions on leaving this town. In Matt’s mind, Mystic Falls and himself became one identity. It was the place he felt safe and when someone, particularly a woman, left it, he felt as though she was abandoning him. Just like Kelly had done over and over again. I think that he replaced Kelly with Vicki a good bit, which is why he held you and the other women in the same manner that he did Vicki.”

Klaus thought on that small cell and the nightmares that they all had faced down there. He thought on how Matt abused their bodies. Logically he knew that necrophilia could stem from rejection and abandonment. Matt would want to be close to the women he kept in the most intimate way possible, but still feared their rejection. So, he killed them and sealed their permanency with him in the most intimate of acts. Sex.

The thought made his stomach roll.

“I really don’t want to discuss Matt anymore.” Caroline muttered and Klaus understood. For the foreseeable future, her life would be defined by the fact that she survived. She would try and go back to normal, but this would always linger in her life.

“We can discuss anything you want but there is one last thing I have to give you before we change topics.” Klaus reached into his pocket and slid the small flash drive across the counter. “On the drive are all the videos Tyler took of you and him. A copy will remain with the FBI, but no one will see them. Ever.” Caroline’s wide eyes flashed up to him and then down at the drive. “I didn’t watch them. I wouldn’t invade your privacy like that.”

“And what about the one with us? What about that one?”

“It is also property of the FBI, but Vincent assures me that it will never see the light of day.” Caroline nodded and looked at the flash drive again; scowling as though it had offended her. She crossed her arms and walked around the counter, leaving her bagel untouched. Klaus opened his arms and pulled her into an embrace. “I had no idea. If I would have known that we were being watched, I never would have made love to you that night.”

“No.” Caroline hissed. She looked up at him, her blue eyes staring at him as though a storm was echoing behind them. “I don’t regret it. That night, with you, I refuse to let Matt and Tyler take that from us. You’ve made me so happy. For a moment, I was just Caroline again and you made me feel something that wasn’t a pit of darkness. If they take that, if Matt ruins that moment, then he wins. He may be dead, but he wins in the end. I can’t let that happen.”

“You are remarkable.” Klaus leaned down and kissed her. It was gentle but held so much promise in it. He poured everything he had into that kiss, knowing that in a few hours he would be driving to New Orleans and Caroline would still be in this small apartment, waiting for the reports to leave and the chaos Matt created to die down. Klaus pulled away but still held her to him. “There is so much I have to do. I have to pay my respect to Marcel. I owe him that.”

“Of course, Klaus. You should go. If the places were reversed, Marcel would have done the same for you.” Caroline told him; her voice hitched at the thought of Klaus’s body lying in the same way as Marcel. “I don’t want to hold you back in anyway.”

“You wouldn’t be holding me back.” Klaus kissed her forehead. “And I think I’m going to take your advice. Once I am done in New Orleans, I want to go and see my family. Maybe hold my brother’s daughter in my arms. I think I’ve avoided England for too long.” Klaus met Caroline’s eyes and there were tears pooling in them. Klaus reached up and wiped the stray tear away. “What you are thinking?”

“That you’re proof that there are still good people in the world.” Caroline kissed his cheek, letting her lips linger against his skin for a moment. “This isn’t goodbye you know. You going to New Orleans and then England, it isn’t a goodbye. We have so much to figure out in our lives. Where do we go from here? So much healing to do. I think it is time for you to go home and face your demons. Just like I have to face mine.”

“I don’t want to let you go Caroline.” She smiled at him and took his hands, kissing them. “I want to be in your life in any way that you let me.”

With that, her one uninjured hand gripped his Henley and pulled him down into a deep kiss; this time more passionate than before. Their lips mingled together, fighting for dominance. Caroline poured everything she had into that kiss, telling Klaus exactly how she wanted him in her life. Klaus’s eyes fluttered shut, allowing himself to feel her arms wrap around his shoulders and her body press against his.

“I want you Klaus. Here. Now. Let us have another moment just the two of us. Untainted and pure before you leave.” Klaus stood from the bar stool and pulled Caroline into his arms, kissing her harder. His hands traced the light pink top she wore before slipping his hands under the hem to feel her soft skin. Caroline broke the kiss, placing her finger on his lips. “And when we are together again, we can have more. Because Klaus, I don’t want to let you go either.”

Caroline pulled out of his arms and grabbed his hand. Just like the other night when Caroline led him to her bedroom, she pulled him towards a wooden door on the other side of the room. The spare bedroom in Bonnie’s apartment was small but had enough room for a double bed, a dresser and a small chair in the corner that Klaus saw Caroline’s pink suitcase resting on it. Caroline led him to the edge of the bed and pushed his chest lightly; telling him to sit on the bed.

Klaus obeyed her direction and watched as she walked over to her suitcase. He saw her pull out a small foil packet and he could not help but smirk. She walked over to the bed and tossed the packet on the bed; ignoring the rise of his eyebrow in question.

“Planning this, were we?” Klaus teased her and Caroline flushed slightly. She bit her lip and pulled her tank-top over her head, tossing it on the ground. All teasing left his face as his eyes took in her bra covered breasts and skin that was now exposed.

“And if I was? Complaining?” Klaus shook his head and Caroline gave him a slight giggle. She straddled his lap, pressing her covered core against his now bulging pants. They both hissed at the contact; their lips mingling together gently. Klaus’s hands roamed her back; tracing her spine before unclasping her bra. Klaus pulled her bra from her chest, revealing her breasts and tossing the piece of clothing aside. He took in the sight of her erect nipples and mounds; groaning as she grinded down onto his lap. “Good.”

“You’re so beautiful.” He leaned forward, taking a nipple into his mouth; sucking and nipping at them lightly. Caroline moaned at the feeling of his lips on her skin. She gripped at his hair with her hand; pressing his face against her breasts.

“Klaus.” Caroline whimpered his name as he continued to kiss and suck her breasts. They both knew that there would be marks and bruises on her skin from where his lips had been; neither minded much. Caroline began grinding down on him harder, trying to create some friction between them, while Klaus gripped her hips; helping her create a rhythm. “Stop. I need you.”

She yanked on his hair and pulled his lips up to hers; pulling him into another bruising kiss. Klaus moved his hands from her hips and pulled his Henley over his shoulders; throwing it with the other forgotten clothing; breaking the kiss as he did so. Caroline pulled his lips back to hers again, dragging her nails down his chest.

Caroline pulled her lips from his and gently pushed him to lie back against the bed. Caroline traced kisses down his jawbone and sucked on his neck. She sucked at his pulse point; her teeth grazing his skin. She made a trail with her lips down his collar bone, across the tattoo of birds on his shoulder and down his stomach. When she reached the top of his jeans, Caroline’s eyes flickered upward; catching his. Klaus groaned at the mischief in her eyes.

“Caroline. You don’t have to.”

“I know. I want to.” She reached up and pulled at his belt. Klaus helped her undo his pants; sliding them down his hips enough that his erection was able to spring free. She gripped it gently, moving her hand up and down; causing Klaus to groan as she did so. Smirking, Caroline leaned forward and took a long lick of his shaft.

“Christ, Sweetheart.” Caroline took him completely into her mouth, causing Klaus’s eyes to roll. He reached down and moved Caroline’s hair out of her face. She watched as she sucked on his shaft, bobbing her head up and down so his erection slid in and out of her mouth. Her free hand massaged his balls as her tongue swirled around the base of him. He knew that if she continued to do this, he would not last long. “Stop. Caroline, you need to stop. Please. I want you.”

Caroline pulled her lips from his erection, sliding out of her mouth with a pop; sucking him one last time before she stood up straight. She undid the button on her jeans, pushing them down her legs along with her panties. She stepped out of them and stood before Klaus completely naked. His greedy eyes took in every inch of her, the morning sun illuminating her skin. He could see the red blush grace her skin; slight embarrassment as he took in her body.

“Enjoying the sight?”

“Immensely.”

“Then maybe you should take off your pants.” Caroline told him coyly and Klaus moved into action, sliding his jeans down his hips the rest of the way. He picked up the small foil packet and ripped it open; knowing that Caroline still would not be able to open it herself. He pulled the condom out and slid it over his erection, before lying back down against the bed. Caroline climbed onto his lap and aligned his erection with her entrance.

Slowly, Caroline sunk down onto him; both of them groaning at the sensation. Klaus filled her until their pelvises met. Klaus gazed up at the sight of Caroline straddling him as he was deep inside of her; the feeling of her warmth surrounding him. She reached out and grabbed one of his hands; their eyes locking onto one another. Caroline routed her hips in an achingly slow manner before moving upward; Klaus slipping out of her only slightly.

Caroline rode him at a leisurely pace, neither of them needing more than that connection. Klaus gripped her hand tightly, not wanting to let go, while his free hand reached between them and touched her clit. Caroline hissed at the contact; Klaus’s finger rubbing her bundle of nerves. Caroline’s eyes fluttered shut, her head tossing back as she began to ride him harder.

Klaus sat up, changing the angle and causing Caroline to cry out his name again. Klaus continued to rub her clit, letting go of her hand and pulled her body to his chest; her breast pressing against his naked skin. He kissed her passionately; refusing to be a passive partner in their love making any longer. His hips started to match the rhythm Caroline set.

“Klaus! I need you. Please.” She cried out as they broke the kiss. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, wanting him as close to her as possible. Klaus rested one of his hands on her hips, helping her keep the pace of her thrusts.

“I’m here Sweetheart.” Klaus breathed in her ear. “I want this Caroline. I want you. I want to feel you again. I want to wake up in the morning and make love to you. I want to hear you laugh and see that bright smile that lights up your face.” Caroline whimpered at the sweet nothings he whispered to her. “This isn’t goodbye. I can’t let this be goodbye. Because I want this. All of this. I want all of you.”

“Klaus.” Caroline looked down at him and he could see the question in her eyes. She was terrified that he would leave and never return. He wanted to tell her that he was in this for the long haul; that he was going to be with her for as long as she would let him. The words could not form on her lips, so she kissed his instead; hoping that the emotion she felt reflected in the kiss.

Klaus felt Caroline’s muscles clench around him and her body still. She arched her back and cried out his name. Watching her come apart with his name on her lips was enough for him to spill himself into the condom.

Klaus fell backwards, landing on the bed with a soft thud; Caroline landing on top of him. She giggled lightly before pressing a kiss to his chest. She shifted, his penis slipping out of her; Caroline moaning at the feeling her sensitive skin gave. Klaus pulled the condom off him and wrapped it in the foil packet; making a note to toss it away later.

Caroline curled up in his arms, her head resting against his chest. Absent mindedly, Klaus began to play with her hair as his listened to the sound of her breathing. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head while she drew small circles on his chest. Perhaps it was the knowledge that Caroline was safe and, in his arms, or the feel of her fingertips on his skin, Klaus found himself falling into a deep sleep.

Something he had not experienced in a very long time.

Hours later after he was awake, showered and dressed, Klaus shared a small dinner with Caroline, Bonnie and Liz at Bonnie’s apartment. The four of the tried their best to ignore the chaos that was echoing through the town; whispers of Matt’s deviance and reporters trying to gather any semblance of a story they could find. Enzo, who Liz had brought with her from her house, sat at the foot of the table, begging for scraps. Klaus held Caroline close, knowing that their time was coming to a close. When the sun finally set and the they deemed it safe to leave the apartment for a few moments, Caroline walked Klaus to his car; kissing him goodbye.

As Klaus drove south down the interstate, he knew he meant every word he whispered to Caroline. In many ways this was a closing; an ending to a chapter in his life that he realized had become far too long; but it wasn’t a goodbye. Not to her. From the moment her picture hung on that board in the middle of bullpen of the FBI, Klaus knew that Caroline Forbes would always stick with him for the rest of his life.

A/N: I know this chapter feels like an ending....and it is. But remember we till have the epilogue that will be posted next week. This gives a hint at what will happen to some characters. Announcement: Next Thursday, August 6, I will be doing a Q&A about Wanderlust.

I'll answer any questions, from clarifications on clues to what happens in the future with the characters.

#klaroline #Wanderlust

16 notes · View notes

everythingoesnk · 4 years

Text

Good man

summary; you’re an angel (literally an angel) and the world needs you. what for? to babysit mclennon. spoiler: you cannot resist john.

word count; 3 248

disclaimers; i’m SO proud of this but give me feedback lol you just can’t imagine how much it helps and motivates to keep writing

warnings; cannot think of one.

********

Too many of yours had been killed. Many others were still held in custody, tortured for the sole purpose of unleashing a war your community had been avoiding.

The smartest decision would’ve been to end the nonsense and face the enemy head-on, but again, you were angels. Dialogue always came first.

You learned the lesson.

This last year you’d been training and developing physical skills that initially don’t belong to your committee. What you didn’t know was the irrefutable decision the Parliament imposed in one of their meetings that they later would communicate to the nation: put into practice, only if necessary, the fighting tactics that you acquired. Not here, but on Earth. Long story short, become guardians. A large number of people understand that as angels that’s what you are. They’re not wrong, in a way.

On a final note, the Parliament concluded that its best pupils would descend to protect humans from the vehemence of the Evil.

Each angel has two people assigned.

Yours are Paul McCartney and John Lennon.

18th of June 1967, 15:18 pm

“Today marks six months since we met, and on top of that, it’s my birthday. Have you bought me anything?” Paul inquired from the sofa, straightening his neck to get a better view of your face.

It was difficult with you staring out the window, scanning every inch of the street and skyline, never turning to show any interest in what he was saying.

Dropping his head backwards, he added quietly, “And nothing happened”

“Is that disappointment in your tone?” you asked impassively, still not turning.

“Disappointment is not the word”

“What’s the word then?”

Your eyes travelled to a different point. No longer on the clouds that ventured the signs of a storm but on your partner and one of the other three funky insects.

Matt was near the metal gate, keeping an eye on the vicinities and probably rolling his eyes at the fans’ screeches coming from behind the entry, crying for any sort of interaction with their idols.

Not far from there John was sitting on the hood of his car.

Something must have told him he was being watched because he put down the hand with the cigarette and looked up to the same window you were at almost instantly.

An uneasy feeling that you couldn’t quite describe expanded around your heart after his inquisitive stare settled on you.

Flustered, you looked coyly to the left and right, because maybe Paul shifted to your side and you didn’t notice.

That got a small laugh from John.

Paul wasn’t in the room anymore but on the bathroom taking a pee, you could hear him. Regaining your usual erect composure, your brows pinched in a frown.

John got off the hood and put out the cigarette on the sole of his shoe before heading towards the building, looking in your direction once more with hands in his pockets and a sinful smirk tickling his lips.

“No,” you told Paul, observing John until he couldn’t be seen no more.

He shot you a confused glance as he finished pulling up the zipper.

“Babe, be more specific”

“I didn’t buy you anything” you concretized, facing him, “but I’m here to save your life in case you need to be saved. And if the moment comes I will, I’m a good warrior”

Paul blushed. He flapped his hand at you.

“It was a joke”

“I hope you were joking too about ‘nothing’ happening. You should be grateful you weren’t in any danger just yet”

You swore you could boil an egg in his face.

18th June 1967, 15:39 pm

“We’ll be back before dinner” Matt informed, putting on a jacket.

“Do the wings break through the clothes when you… invoke them?” Ringo asked.

George and John didn’t make any witty remarks, wondering the same secretly.

You and Matt exchanged looks. He shrugged and you thought it wasn’t worth your time answering.

“We do not invoke them. They appear when we need them”

Ringo kept asking questions but you didn’t focus on them, after all he was Matt’s responsibility. He was taking them –George and Ringo– to pay a visit to their wives. Matt missed driving so they didn’t mind him taking the wheel.

In Paul’s case it was Linda and her guardian who dropped by every now and then.

Due to the first impression of them, you thought Paul and John would be more demanding, however, they didn’t bother you and mostly stuck to doing their own thing.

Paul was taking a nap in the room next door; John’s whereabouts were unknown. You had to find him for his safety.

Gliding down the corridor you bumped into him.

You folded your arms across the chest.

“Where were you?”

“A fan dodged security and was waiting for me in the lobby. We talked for a bit and snapped a picture”

“For the thousandth time,” you groaned, annoyance streaming through your body like lava, “do not speak to anyone if I’m not around! Why do you keep disobeying my instructions?”

“She looked regular” he justified.

You looked at him as you might a cockroach.

“Demons disguise themselves accurately to fool jerks like you” you spat out.

Pulling a theatrical painful face, he brought a hand down to hold on to his dick and testicles, simulating that your words kicked him just there.

“Lennon, do not make it harder than it needs to be. I didn’t choose to have to follow you around like a puppy”

“Alright, can you take a moment to try and understand how overwhelming the situation is for us as well?” he argued, putting on hold his reckless demeanour.

Rubbing your eyes you sighed, “Yes, I can, but—”

“Forgive me”

“I forgive you, but don’t do it again”

A tender grin formed on his face, content that you didn’t put up much of a fight.

“Before I got interrupted I was actually on my way to get you. I wanna show you something”

You rolled your eyes. He’s so random.

Back in the room, he went straight to the piano. After tuning it his eyes wandered to the empty space he had next to him on the bench, waiting for you to take it.

Your expression switched from curious to stupefied.

Following his command you sat down.

Your gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips and from lips to his fingers. He played so carefully and delicately in the beginning, introducing the prologue of his piece, that you lost yourself somewhere in the middle of it. Recalling the day you entered Heaven you shivered.

Music filled the air, hijacking every part of your mind.

The melody began to change, more macabre and haunting. It reminded you of everything beginning to fall apart, when the enemy showed no mercy and without guilt slayed the innocent.

You weren’t aware of how you were digging your fingernails in his leg, the shrieks of the victims ringing in your ear.

John stopped playing, placed his hand on top of yours and clasped it firmly, looking concerned.

You shook your head and instead walked away, needing space.

John squared his shoulders as he took a deep breath and sauntered up to you. Brows together, you shrank back.

“I didn’t want to upset you,” he said, respecting the distance.

You remained quiet, head buzzing.

He squinted at you and tilted his head.

“Talking about it might help you”

“Have you taken it on yourself to be my personal psychologist?”

He held your gaze. It was the pain talking, not you. He knew and he was going to be patient.

“It’s not your fault this is happening. Any of this”

“Stop”

“You need to hear it. You have this vast weight on your shoulders—”

“I could’ve done something!” you hollered, saturated with the remorse you’d been accumulating. You knew you weren’t responsible for the cataclysm. He didn’t… he didn’t understand. “Those monsters killed them in front of me! Marta, Norman, Charlie! I can still feel how my body jarred after witnessing every stab and poisoned bite. Blood was gushing out of their mouths and I did nothing!”

The image of you petifried watching them die and not being able to help repulsed you.

How could you have been so cruel?

John held his breath. That was what was torturing you.

“You aren’t responsible for their deaths”

“Aren’t I?” you fumed, the void in the middle of your heart widening. “You know nothing”

The bitterness in your voice made his nostrils flare.

Through his bones echoed the determination to cure your scars. However, he understood it wasn’t his job to heal you.

“And I’ll never get to apologize”

You could sense John’s question without him actually asking.

“Demons get to exist thanks to the souls they rip from their owners. The bodies vanished after that” you explained, feeling dizzy.

Throat dry, you brought a hand to your forehead.

Beneath your typical mask of coldness never would have John imagined you were battling against yourself.

It brought him back to when he felt like he could have prevented his mum from leaving the house, saving her life. He was seventeen. Seventeen, not three or four. He could have warned her about the insanity of driving under those conditions. The wind was brutal that day, and it rained cats and dogs. Instead, he kissed her cheek good-bye and went to his room.

He blamed himself too at first. It was a long and tormenting process, but he comprehended he wasn’t guilty. You’d get to that point eventually, he thought, you’d have only gotten yourself killed too if you’d have intervened.

The breeze that came through the window dried your tears and moved the hair away from your notable cheekbones. He attempted to reach out to you for the second time. You just stared at him, biting your quivering lower lip. He stood before you, eyes boring into your mournful ones.

Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you slowly against him. You sobbed into his chest as you snuggled closer for shelter.

John pressed his cheek onto the top of your head.

“It’s not your fault” he repeated, emotion palpable in his tone.

It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault.

2nd of February 1968, 12:13 pm

Matt dug his elbow into your ribs.

“He fell for you,” he said with a huge smirk, and imitated your pose: hands laced behind the back, eyes closed and body toward the sun taking in its pleasant rays.

“Shouldn’t have” you muttered after a pause, forcing the letters out of your mouth.

“That card you keep playing of apathy is ridiculous”

“I’m not playing any apathy card”

“Pretending you have no feelings for John won’t make it easier tomorrow”

You blinked and turned to him. He opened his and fixed them on you.

“I’m simply prioritizing other things”

“What other things are those?”

He knew already.

He knew that the things you just claimed to prioritize over your damn feelings were nonexistent. Like always, he was right. You didn’t want to triple the suffering that implied separating from John by confessing.

War was over. Angels defeated the beasts and freed themselves and humanity; home awaited your kind.

“My dear (Y/N),” Matt laughed dreamily, “you have all the time in the world to wait for him. Find out if he will still love you then”

3th of February 1968, 18:21 pm

John lost track of the number of times he rehearsed the torrent of words he planned on telling you.

He raised his hand and put it in a fist. Up in the air, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to knock on the door. Explicit terms and a deep groan escaped his lips. He dropped it and inhaled deeply, heart pounding frantically.

When he thought he was ready to finally do it Paul emerged from the closest corner, sprinted and knocked four times, running afterwards to the room that George and Ringo shared before John could catch him. And he did try.

“Ay! You want a fuckin’ hole in your face, you punk?!” he banged on their door, getting angrier with their laughs.

He almost lost it when Ringo hummed ‘With A Little Help From My Friends’.

Nonplussed, you crossed your arms and stood watching John from your spot after opening the door.

Just like before, his sensor did not fail him. He stopped his actions shortly and whirled around. Reddening abruptly, for a second he was sure his face was on fire.

You cleared your throat.

“Well?”

Cautiously, his brain stuttering, he glided the necessary steps to be in front of you.

He opened his mouth but didn’t get to say anything because Matt appeared from behind you.

“Who is—”

Immediately after seeing John his eyes widened.

“Oh God! I’m sorry! Were you- Oh my God, I’m sorry! Shit, go on” he gasped, and literally hurried inside.

That only aggravated the layer of crimson sprayed in John’s complexion.

You wanted to laugh but didn’t, obviously he was there to make the first move. You flashed him a small smile for support. He smiled at you too in return.

“Follow me”

Imperceptible in his voice, he succeeded in hiding elsewhere he feared rejection.

You raised an eyebrow teasingly. He frowned then chuckled in realization.

“Please?”

You giggled, which sounded way too girly for your liking, and took his hand in yours.

John led the way to the rooftop of the hotel.

Garlands of white and pink roses decorated the space, and since the sun was setting, you got to see how the orangy golden lights ghosted over John’s skin which made him look not handsome but celestial. At the distance, a trail of a plain crossed the horizon. You admired the view for a few more seconds and then drifted your eyes back to him.

The kindness and love reflected in his felt as warm as a kiss on the forehead of your favourite person in the world.

“I have to be quick, you don’t have much time”

He wasn’t wrong. You had to leave soon.

“Here, take this” he handed you a paper folded in half. “Open it when you’re there”

You averted the gaze towards the sheet and nodded. His eyes desperately searched yours again. Every second counted.

“I love you” he blurted out, a bizarre combination of panic and hope evident on his face. Like a child who just confessed that he broke granny’s vase, praying not to be grounded. “And I really, really want to kiss you”

The longing in his request melted your heart.

When you were about to let him know that you wanted it too you felt it in your back. You felt the muscles pulling the skin, pushing to make their way through to the outside.

One moment they weren’t there the other your wings were now displayed broadly for him to see.

They raised themselves, ready for departure.

John’s mouth fell open.

Unable to stop staring at their grandiosity and splendour, heartbeat wildly pumping, he ran a hand through his hair.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he said breathlessly.

With tears in your eyes, you cupped his head in your hands and laid your mouth on his mouth without prior notice.

In that very instant, right there, the world stopped spinning.

He moved his silky wet lips against yours, pressing you further in until there was no space in between when the saltiness of your teardrops mixed with the saliva.

Your wings started aching awfully by now, and you knew what that meant.

Not wanting to, you pulled back from the kiss, lips burning.

“No” he purred, holding you in place, fingers gripping so tight around your upper arms that the skin beneath them turned white.

“John, it’s time”

Brokenhearted, you withdrew fully after rubbing your noses in an affectionate eskimo kiss.

You nudged intimately his chin up with your thumb.

John didn’t want to miss the opportunity to absorb your dazzling beauty thus he forced his eyes open.

“Part of my heart will stay with you. Remain a good man, Lennon, and return it to me. I trust that we’ll meet again in due course”

3th February 1968, 23:33 pm

Excitement throbbed in you. Seating cross-legged, you created walls with your wings to avoid snoopers and unfolded the paper.

It was a piano score. At the bottom of it, written in his handwriting, was a small note:

“I changed the ending. Now it’s about finding peace and picking up your broken bits to build a stronger armour. You’re a fierce woman, (Y/N), but whenever that feeling tightens and saddens your heart, play this”

Tangled in a mix of joy and sorrow, you half smiled as a tear rolled down your cheek and chin, landing in John’s signature.

8th December 1980, 22:50 pm

Everyone fell silent.

You noticed that all of your fellow companions and friends had their gazes bonded to the same spot. Slowly, you turned to check what they were looking at, and you nearly passed out.

He rarely visited. Only when he had good reasons to.

Gait steady, knowing very well what he was doing, he gave a quick look around as he paced.

His eyes found you.

Saint Peter offered you a reassuring smile, causing everyone to snap their heads at you.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)”

You swallowed.

“Y-yes?” you sputtered.

“I believe you’ll want to see this”

Uncertain, you joined him, not before sending Matt a doubtful look.

In any case, all your questions were answered when you reached the Gates and saw who was waiting for you. His wings were even more impressive, glittering and elegant than anyone else’s.

He was touching their feathers, inspecting them.

You ran to embrace him. Off guard as you took him, his arms were trapped under yours, preventing him from being able to hug you back.

“You shouldn’t be here. What happened, John?” you said, a million thoughts rushing through your mind.

“(Y/N)…” Saint Peter warned.

Under no circumstances it was allowed to ask for the reason behind someone’s death nor tell yours. It was the rules; the subject was forbidden.

You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded.

Taking a couple of steps back, you looked up to him. John bored his eyes into yours, lips stretching into a dainty smile.

“Hello, love. I took great care of the piece of your heart that you borrowed me” he said, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. “The time has come, I can give it back”

“It was for you, dummy” you answered with a laugh, voice cracking.

He dropped his head shyly to the floor, smile growing larger.

You followed where his eyes were pointing at, only to see his bare toes scrunching into the delicacy and softness of the cloud, getting familiar with it.

“I’m sorry you’re here” you whispered, honestly horrified that he didn’t get the chance to grow old.

“I was never scared of dying,” he spoke, slowly raising his head, “because I knew I’d be with you”

Staring at each other, none spoke for a moment.

“I love you too, by the way,” you admitted, pink arising in your cheeks. “I realized after I left that I didn’t say it back”

John smirked. He caressed your face and you felt the butterflies in your tummy flutter.

Love danced in the brightness of his eyes.

“Show me Heaven, (Y/N)”

#john lennon #john lennon x reader #ringo starr #george harrison #paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon imagine #john lennon fanfic #john lennon fanfiction #angst #angels and demons #tayloredstarr

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spoookymuulders · 4 years

Text

you make my heart beat like the rain

read it on ao3 here total word count: 18,438 chapter word count: 3,523 warnings: broken bones, cast removal

chapter five. then it’s down with the recipe and bake from the heart. in which matt simmons burns his hand and aaron hotchner tells a ghost story.

Matt Simmons prides himself on the fact that he’s worked at a bakery since he moved to Callahan and has never once burned himself. It’s a record, he thinks - he’s worked here for almost fifteen years and in that whole time, he’s never once accidentally touched a burner or a hot cake pan or cookie sheet.

But, as they say, there’s a first time for everything. And of course the first time he burns himself is on Kristy’s birthday.

He glares at the angry welt on his hand as he sits in the waiting room at the clinic and thinks stupid cake pan. Thankfully it’s a slow day at the clinic and it doesn’t take long for Savannah to call him back. He trails after her and flops into a chair in the exam room.

“Alright, Matt.” She says, perching in a chair opposite him. He sticks his hand out with a quiet huff and Savannah looks it over, whistling quietly. “You got yourself good. So much for a streak, huh?”

“I’m trying not to think about it too much.” He grumbles. Savannah chuckles and gets to work on cleaning and bandaging the burn. She makes quick work of it, patting his shoulder gently as she finishes. He follows her back out to the lobby and thanks her again before making an appointment with the receptionist to come back in a week so they can check on the burn and make sure it’s healing correctly, then heads back to the bakery.

He’s not expecting to see Spencer sitting on the bench outside the bakery, tapping his feet absently, but there he is. Spencer hops to his feet as Matt climbs out of the car, waving quickly.

“Matt! Hey, I came by earlier but you weren’t open - what happened?” Spencer’s voice comes out a mile a minute and Matt offers a small smile - it’s rare that Spencer can’t put a smile on someone’s face.

“I burnt myself.” Matt says. Spencer grimaces and follows him inside as he unlocks the door. “What d’you need, kid?”

“Two red velvet cupcakes, please.” Spencer says, leaning on the counter lightly. Matt nods, glancing at the younger man as he puts the cupcakes into a box carefully.

“Two, huh? That sweet tooth taking over?” He teases. Spencer chuckles and shakes his head.

“Zoe’s getting her cast off today and said she was really nervous. I’m giving her a ride so I figured I’d surprise her.” He says simply, shrugging his shoulders. Matt raises his brows.

“You sweet on her?”

Spencer’s cheeks burn redder than the cupcakes he takes from Matt and he scoffs lightly. Matt chuckles and shakes his head. “Hey, she’s great.” Matt continues, taking Spencer’s card. “Chloe and Lily love her. You should’ve seen the looks on their faces when we called the school and she said she actually didn’t assign any homework.”

He passes the cupcakes over and Spencer thanks him with a smile. “She’s really into that whole homework-isn’t-helpful crusade.” He says, nodding. “And I tend to agree with her, actually.” Matt chuckles, nodding, and waves Spencer away.

“Tell her Chloe and Lily say hi.” He calls as Spencer jogs out of the bakery. Spencer calls an affirmative over his shoulder, waving as he climbs into the truck.

****

“I’ve never broken a bone before now.”

Zoe’s voice, soft and nervous, startles Spencer. Their drive towards Freeport has been silent up until now - he’d sensed Zoe’s nerves the minute he picked her up, had given her a gentle smile as she climbed into the truck. He glances at her at a stoplight, tipping his head.

“Really?” He asks. Zoe nods, twisting her bottom lip absently.

“I mean I’ve sprained my ankle and like.. Dislocated my elbow and my knee and stuff, but. I’d never broken anything till this.” She hums. Spencer nods slowly, curious as to how she’s sprained and dislocated so many parts of her body, but keeps his questions to himself.

“Are you excited to get the cast off?” He asks, glancing at her again as the light turns green.

“Yeah.” She says, shrugging. Spencer raises a brow and she sighs softly. “I mean - I am, seriously, I’ve hated having this thing on, it’s been so annoying. Showering has been a pain in the ass, and it gets so itchy under there, but. I dunno. Like I said, I’ve never broken anything before, this is my first time getting a cast off. I watched a bunch of YouTube videos about it last night.”

“You’re nervous.” Spencer guesses gently.

“I’m scared.” Zoe corrects softly. Spencer hums, glancing at her without turning his head and offering a small smile.

“Nothing to be scared of.” He promises. Zoe wrinkles her nose a little as Spencer turns a corner and pulls into the parking lot of the hospital. They’d had to come out to Freeport instead of going to the clinic in Callahan solely because James had had to take another cast off last week and the saw they use to cut the cast had broken almost as soon as the cast was off the kid’s leg. They’re still waiting for the new one to arrive.

Spencer parks the truck and hops out to open Zoe’s door, smiling warmly when she thanks him and slides out. She smooths her skirt absently as Spencer closes the door and leans against the hood, watching as she exhales.

“I’ll be right here when you’re done.” He tells her with a small smile when she glances at him. She nods and turns around, heading for the doors, but she stops halfway there. Spencer raises a brow as she turns around to face him.

“Will you come in with me?” She asks. Spencer blinks once, then smiles and pushes off the hood. He locks the car as he jogs over to join Zoe, his hand hovering at the small of her back while they walk inside.

She checks in and perches in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room, bouncing her legs absently. Spencer perches beside her, leaning over and pointing out a crack in the ceiling shaped like a rabbit. As they find more shapes in the cracks and designs on the walls and ceiling, her legs slow to a stop - until the doctor calls her back.

In the exam room, the doctor explains the process of removing the cast, but Zoe doesn’t hear most of it. Her heart is thundering in her ears, loud enough that she wonders if Spencer and the doctor can hear it as well - the last time she was in a hospital, it was to get the cast put on, and she’d spent the whole time lying through her teeth like she’d been doing for years.

The sudden buzz of the saw makes her jump and she jerks back to the here and now, eyeing the saw uncertainly. A gentle touch to her knee draws her attention away as the doctor starts to cut at the cast and she glances to the side. Spencer is smiling at her gently, his long fingers against her knee, and she grabs his hand before she can think about it too much. Her heart flutters at the contact - so does his.

She can feel the vibrations of the saw as the doctor moves it down along the cast and, despite her nerves and anxiety, she giggles a little. It tickles, just so, and Spencer grins.

“Not so bad, huh?” He says gently. Zoe shakes her head, peeking at the doctor as he starts on the other side of the cast. She turns her gaze back to Spencer, her eyes widening just so at the crack as the doctor snaps the cast apart. Before she knows it, the whole thing is off and over with and she rotates her wrist twice, then beams at Spencer. His heart flip flops in his chest as he helps her hop off the exam bed and follows her and the doctor out to the lobby.

They get checked out no problem, and Spencer leads her back to the truck as it starts to spit rain. They climb in and Spencer reaches into the paper bag he’d brought along, popping open the little white cardboard box and holding it out. Zoe gasps softly, looking up at him with a smile.

“You got cupcakes?” She asks, grinning at him. He nods as she takes one and he takes the other, then watches as she unwraps the treat carefully.

“You said red velvet is your favorite, and I knew you were nervous about today, so.” He says, shrugging. Zoe grins at him as she pulls the bottom off her cupcake and puts it atop the frosting carefully, effectively turning the cupcake into a tiny sandwich, and he smiles softly.

“You’re the sweetest.” She hums, taking a careful bite, and Spencer’s cheeks flush. They sit together in a comfortable silence as the rain picks up, Zoe tapping her feet happily now and then as they finish their cupcakes. When the treats are gone, Spencer throws the car into gear and heads home, smiling the whole way.

****

Callie will not let rain dampen her plans with Hotch and Jack. Jack had stopped by the office earlier to talk about how excited he was to have a picnic with her and his father, but the weather, it seems, has other plans. She glares out the window as she tugs on her raincoat and shoves her feet into her galoshes, then gathers up the items she’d grabbed when their plans had been to throw a blanket on the grass in the backyard of the B&B.

She shoves everything into a grocery bag and sprints out to her car, collapsing into it with a huff and pushing her hood down. The drive to the B&B isn’t far and when she parks, she gives herself a quick mental countdown then climbs out and sprints to the porch and takes the steps two at a time. She rings the bell and pushes her hood down, grinning when Hotch opens the door.

“Hi!” She says breathlessly, raising her voice to be heard over the rain. Hotch smiles and steps aside, closing the door behind her.

“Hi.” He returns, now that the rain has been drowned out through the heavy oak door.

“So much for a picnic, huh?” She says, unbuttoning her jacket. Hotch holds his hands out, taking it when she passes it over and hanging it on one of the hooks beside the door.

“Yeah, Jack’s pretty bummed.” He tells her with a grimace. Callie hums thoughtfully.

“I had a feeling he might be. But I came prepared.” She says, grinning and holding up her grocery bag when Hotch raises a brow. “How would you feel about moving some furniture around?”

Hotch, confused but intrigued, leads Callie into the living room and spends the next ten minutes helping her move the furniture off to the side. Once that’s done, Callie lays a large picnic blanket out in the middle of the room, grinning when Hotch does.

“I’ll grab the food if you wanna go get Jack.” He says. Callie nods and heads up the stairs towards the room Hotch directs her to, knocking at the door lightly and poking her head in.

“Hey, bud.” She says. Jack looks up from where he’s laying on his bed, pouting at a Captain America comic book.

“I didn’t know if you were gonna come still.” He says, sitting up. Callie pads into the room and perches next to him.

“‘Course I was still gonna come, silly goose. A little rain isn’t gonna stop us from having a picnic.”

“A little rain?”

As if to emphasize Jack’s point, thunder booms outside and the rain picks up again. He frowns, glowering out the window, and Callie chuckles.

“C’mon. Follow me, I’ll show you what I mean.” She says. She hops off the bed and holds out a hand, leading him out of the room and back down the stairs. They stop in the doorway to the living room and he looks around for a moment, eyes wide. “My sister and I used to do living room picnics with our parents all the time.”

Jack looks up as Hotch reappears, beaming at his father. Hotch returns the smile warmly and sets the last of the food out, and they all flop onto the blanket, digging in and talking and laughing brightly, and Hotch feels lighter than he has in years.

****

The rain has gotten bad enough that Spencer pulls over halfway back to Callahan, parking on the shoulder and flicking on his hazards to wait out the storm - or at least until it lets up enough that he can actually see further than the end of the hood while he drives. Zoe shivers a little and Spencer shrugs out of his cardigan, passing it over immediately. She takes it slowly and slides it on, snuggling into it after a moment, and Spencer notes with a small smile how it dwarfs her small frame. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she shifts to lean against her door so she can face him, tucking her feet beneath herself as she settles. Spencer mimics her movements, tucking one foot under his other leg and draping an arm along the back of the bench seat.

“What’s your favorite color?” Zoe asks suddenly. Spencer blinks, surprised at the question, and considers for a moment.

“Green.” He says finally. “It makes me think of the spring and new beginnings.” Zoe nods slowly, humming thoughtfully. “What’s your favorite book?”

“The Ordinary Princess.” She says instantly. Spencer raises a brow - he’s never met someone who can so quickly tell him their favorite book. Not that he makes a habit out of asking people what their favorite book is, but still. She tells him a basic summary of the story when he asks and he listens with a small smile.

“It sounds like a sweet book.” He says. Zoe nods.

“You could probably read it in like.. Five minutes.” She hums. “But it’s one of those ones that you should try and stretch out over at least an hour.” Spencer chuckles quietly, nodding. He’ll have to look into it - and read it slowly, apparently.

They go back and forth like this for a while, trading soft questions and answers. Zoe’s wanted to be a teacher since she was seven years old, Spencer learns, her favorite movies are the Indiana Jones series, and she became fast friends with Penelope when it was discovered that they both play ukulele.

Zoe learns that Spencer has an eidetic memory, not a photographic memory. She learns that he has a cousin in Santa Barbara who works as a freelance detective with his best friend, and that Spencer’s favorite cow on his ranch is named Rosie. “But don’t tell the others, or they’ll revolt.” He says seriously, and Zoe giggles.

As the rain finally starts to let up, they both turn towards the dashboard again, buckling their belts before Spencer pulls back onto the road.

“What’s your favorite movie from the 80s?” Zoe asks, continuing their game, and when Spencer answers with Labyrinth, Zoe’s eyes light up.

****

Dinner has long since been finished and cleaned up. It has been replaced with a crackling blaze in the fireplace and s’mores and ghost stories, and Callie couldn’t be happier - sure, this isn’t what they’d planned on originally, but this is better. She sits with Jack huddled into her side, one arm wrapped around him securely as Hotch tells the Who Stole My Golden Arm campfire story. It’s one she vaguely remembers hearing when she was a kid a few times, but she hasn’t heard it in years.

Which is why, when Hotch jumps suddenly and shouts, “You stole my golden arm!”, she shrieks and jumps about a foot in the air. Hotch and Jack both collapse in laughter as Callie puts her hand to her chest, trying to will her heartbeat back to normal. She huffs out a breath, giggling with them, and pushes at Hotch’s shoulder as he sits up.

“Alright, alright, you got me.” She says, wrinkling her nose. “I’ve got a good one.” Jack sits up now too, scooting himself over to sit in his father’s lap, and Callie feels her heart squeeze - Jack looks so much like Hotch it almost hurts. He snuggles into Hotch and puts his chin in his hands, both boys eagerly awaiting their story.

“Okay. This one is a true story, it happened to my granddad.” Callie says, leaning forward conspiratorially. The Hotchners lean forward as well, already intrigued, and Callie launches into her story - one about her grandfather picking up a young woman on the side of the road during a rainstorm much like tonight’s.

“When Gramps went back to the house the next day, he knocked on the door. The girl’s mother answered and Gramps told her he’d picked up Sarah the night before and brought her home, but she’d left her sweater in his car.” She says, “But the mother looked at him and said, Our Sarah passed last year.” Her eyes widen dramatically and Jack gasps loudly, Hotch, mirroring the boy’s wide-eyed gaze.

Twenty minutes later, Jack is tucked into bed and Callie is puttering around the kitchen, helping Hotch clean up from their picnic.

“Is that story about your granddad really true?” Hotch asks as he pads into the kitchen and tucks a plate into the dishwasher. Callie laughs softly, turning to lean against the counter.

“Nah. It’s an old urban legend.” She tells him, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “But I will say, I spent a solid twenty years believing it was true, ‘cause no one ever told me otherwise. I saw something about it online and made a comment about how it had happened to my granddad, too, and the person who posted it was blown away that I didn’t realize it was an urban legend.”

Hotch laughs, leaning against the counter across from Callie and glancing out the window as lighting streaks across the sky behind her. He grimaces, glancing at her as she peers over her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s still raining pretty hard - I dunno about driving in this.” He says suddenly. Callie looks at him, brows lifting just so. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? You can have one of the rooms.”

“Are you sure?” She asks, biting her lip, “I wouldn’t wanna impose-”

“Callie, it’s a bed and breakfast - there’s no such thing as imposing.” Hotch says, his tone gentle and teasing. “I’d feel better if you stayed.”

Callie watches him, chewing at her lip for a moment before she nods. “Alright.” She says, giving him a small smile. Hotch grins at her, dazzling and warm, and she feels her heart jump as he leads her upstairs to one of the bedrooms. She thanks him softly, leaning against the doorjamb and watching as he heads down the hall. He glances over his shoulder once before he disappears into his room, and Callie bites her lip around a small smile before closing her door and collapsing onto her bed for the night.

****

They make it to the ranch before Spencer decides it’s raining too hard again to drive any further. He parks in the garage and hurries inside, hot on Zoe’s heels, both of them laughing softly as the rain pounds against the windows.

“D’you want something dry to change into?” Spencer asks, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “I think I’ve got a pair of JJ’s leggings around somewhere.” Zoe nods, twisting her dripping hair into a braid quickly and padding after Spencer. She looks around as she follows him, hovering in the kitchen when he disappears into the laundry room.

He reappears a moment later, handing her a pair of leggings and a t-shirt before leading her to a bathroom. She changes and peers at herself in the mirror for a moment, tipping her head. Spencer’s t-shirt dwarfs her tiny frame, and she smiles just so at the science pun on it - she doesn’t get it, but she can tell that Penelope got him this shirt. When she pads back out, Spencer is in the kitchen preparing two mugs of tea.

He holds one out with a small smile and Zoe takes it gratefully, allowing him to take her wet clothes and toss them into the washer before he leads her to the living room. They perch on opposite ends of the couch, chattering for a while, and when Spencer stands to go find a blanket and returns with the offer to let Zoe stay the night in the guest bedroom, he finds her curled up in her corner of the couch, hands tucked beneath her chin, her chest rising and falling slowly.

He smiles softly, laying the blanket over her gently, and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear carefully. She hums in her sleep, burrowing further into the blanket, and Spencer settles on the other end of the couch, stretching out along the sectional and settling a blanket over his own long legs.

#mine*#tiny town au #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #aaron hotcher x oc #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction

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my-one-true-l · 4 years

Note

Hi. I hope you're having a nice day, and if not, that it turns around. I was wondering if you could do something involving the Wammy Boys comforting their S/O who's just lost a loved one? I'm in the process of grief myself & this would mean a lot to me, but I understand if it makes you uncomfortable.

Hello Dear Anon. I’m terribly sorry to hear that you’re going through something so painful. I hope this gives you a little bit of comfort.

L sat next to his Love, their eyes on the brink of a deluge, one that comes from deep within the recesses of eternal loss. The look on their face was enough to pull at the usually stoic heart that beat in his chest. Cautiously, he set his hand on their shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I know there’s nothing that can…” He closed his eyes and subtly shook his head at his self-perceived gaff. He knew damn well words were meaningless. He had lived through it at an age that barely understood life, let alone what it was to love someone and lose them and the ghost of that memory still haunted him. He could only imagine the rawness that came with new mourning. “Is there something that could lessen your grief?”

They shook their head, pursing their lips and closing their eyes tightly, trying to stifle the sorrow that fought to come out, but in the end, sorrow always wins.

They flopped into his lap, wrapping their arms around his waist, uncontrollable sobs being swallowed by the denim of his jeans.

He gently rubbed their back and just let them cry. “This is going to be a long process, but I can promise you won’t go through it alone.”

******

“It hurts so bad.” They cried into Mello’s shoulder, violent sobs shuddering through them.

Mello cradled his Love, stroking their hair in a failed attempt to quell their unhappiness.

It had been a long day. They were strong through all of it, keeping composure while watching their loved one being laid to rest. They were reserved while accepting condolences, showing grace towards the unhelpful words. It was remarkable when one considered this was the first funeral they had ever attended. How cruel for it to be for someone they loved so dearly.

But now they were home, away from other mourners and sympathizers, and it was time to give into exhaustion and grief.

“I just can’t believe they’re gone,” they wept the words softly, coming to a momentary lull in their tears.

“I know, Honey, I know.” He rocked them back and forth, resting his chin on the top of their head.

Mello was angry. Why did this have to happen? It wasn’t fair. He hated seeing them like this and knowing there wasn’t anything in this world he could do to make it better. But this wasn’t about his anger and he wasn’t about to express it.

He looked at the clock, watching the second hand tick away the day.

Time heals all wounds.

Mello glared at the inanimate object and thought “It better. However long it takes, it better.”

******

Near crouched next to his love who was balled up in the middle of the floor. “I…it’s…It’s going to be…”

I have no fucking idea how to do this.

“Stop. Please.” The words sputtered between quiet sobs.

Hesitantly, he patted them on the head in an awkward imitation of comfort, barely making contact with them.

They let out a wail, their form heaving and lurching. Near imagined this was akin to the symptoms demonic possession, but much, much worse.

They must be feeling a lot of pain.

Near moved his crouch over their body, wrapping his arms around them as he rested his head against theirs. “I’m sorry.”

Near didn’t move from them for the rest of the night.

******

“I know I’ve said it a thousand times, but I’m sorry. They were awesome. I’m grateful I got to know them.” Matt squeezed his Love’s hand before intertwining his fingers with theirs.

“I know you are. Thank you. They always liked you.” “From day one. I’m glad you got to know them, too. They day you met them was so much fun…”

Tears welled up at the memory. Who knew a heart could hurt so much and keep beating? “I just thought I would have them longer, you know?”

Matt nodded solemnly. “I know it’s no replacement, no one can replace someone, but I’m here and you can have me for as long as you want me. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

They tried to muster a smile with little luck as they gripped his hand tighter. “I know, Matt, I know.”

******

Beyond and his Love spooned in the darkness of their bedroom, arms wrapped tightly around them. Every time they let out a sob, he kissed the top of their head. He wanted nothing more than to protect him. He swore long ago he would make sure they were never harmed by another.

What could he do when the other was death, an adversary he could not win against?

“I’m so sorry. I did all I could.”

And yet I failed you.

They leaned backwards into him, trying to get closer, reaching behind to run their fingers through his hair. “There was no way you could stop it. You warned me. You saw their lifespan. At least I had that. Thank you.” Warm tears dripped onto Beyond’s hand.

“Thank you? What for? I can see death and couldn’t keep it from coming. I let you down.”

“For doing everything you could. For being here for me know. For trying to prepare me.”

“I know from experience there is no preparing.” He closed his eyes and let his own sadness rise inside him for only a moment before pressing back into the recesses of his soul.

“No, but you tried to help me accept it. That’s all anyone could do. Thank you.”

🖤 🖤 🖤

I know how hard this is. I want you to feel safe messaging me if you need or want to. I would never want someone to feel alone, especially when going through something so difficult.

#L Lawliet #Mihael Keehl #Beyond Birthday #Nate River #Mail Jeevas #Death Note #ask #Answered #Anonymous #DN Microfics

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wwevampireamongkpop · 4 years

Text

A Battle of Giants P3

Pairing: Selene (OC) x Sheamus (former), future Selene x Damian Priest, Hunter(Triple H), Matt Riddle

A/N: I’m glad I’m getting inspiration and motivation for this series, idk how many parts but we shall see

Tag list: @evilangel84 @gold--gucciempress @ladytea19 @tacoshu @the-carter-mob-don

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

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After Selene left the PC(Performance Center) for the day, she made her way home. She had planned to do some baking, no matter what kind of day it was at the PC. The need for her favorite cupcakes, apple pie cupcakes, was strong which she didn’t fight that need like she fought the need to climb Damian.

Shaking her head to clear away unnecessary thoughts so she could get to work on her cupcakes. Moments later, she had the cupcakes in the oven and started working on the filling. Adding a couple shots of Honey and Apple Jack Daniel’s whiskey mainly for the flavor not so much the alcohol content itself. The frosting didn’t take her long to make once everything was done.

Once she finished putting everything together, she realized she made several dozen cupcakes. In all honesty, she didn’t mind making so much because she knew she could take them with her in the morning before her training with Riddle.

Selene sat down on her couch with a couple cupcakes on a plate along with a mug of warm tea. She wanted to catch up on Raw and SmackDown that she missed from the past week all because she decided to workout during each show without realizing what time or day it was. She loved watching her friends do what they love to do. It always inspired her to push has hard as she could through this whole recovery.

Selene had set the cupcakes she made in the cafeteria area before making her way to the locker room. She walked through the halls as if it was only yesterday she walked them for the first time a number of years ago. As she walked she heard a couple people talking and one of those people just happened to be Matt Riddle.

“I swear it’s going to be a long and annoying day bro.” Matt was clearly annoyed and Selene knew it was all because of her. “I get to help Selene prepare for her comeback and she had the nerve to tell me to watch her shit on the Network. Her moveset isn’t all that impressive, at least compared to mine.” Arrogance filled his voice just like Selene knew filled his whole being.

“How is she not impressive? She teamed with Balor for a while and they were one of the best mixed tag teams on the main roster.”

“Balor carried their team.” Selene stood by just out of sight of Riddle listening to what he clearly thought of her.

“I disagree, Balor once said she is one of his favorite tag partners.” The sound of the other person sounded like Adam Cole. “Hell when we invaded the main roster, I saw her in action on SmackDown. Honestly I wouldn’t mind being her partner in the ring.”

“Bro, you have to be careful talking like that. I saw how Damian looked at her last night.” Riddle clearly knew something that she didn’t. “It was a look like if anyone messed with Selene, he would kick their ass.”

“Duly noted. Besides, Selene seems like a great person to actually get to know.” Adam sounded genuine in his comment. It was that moment Selene decided to walk by the two men with a smirk on her face.

“Riddle, you shouldn’t say someone’s moveset isn’t impressive. Especially since most of yours are moves you copied from others and decided to add “Bro” to.” She used air quotes and that whole statement felt good to say especially with he was bashing her before he even had a chance in the ring with her.

Instead of stopping to hear his retort, she just continued walking. She wanted to change and start warming up. She thought to herself that it was going to be a great day. Not only kicking Riddles ass but proving that he was wrong about her. What Riddle didn’t know was that over the last few years, she has trained with Aleister Black, Sheamus, Naomi, Christian and what many don’t know is that Hunter even helped her out when she first came to the WWE.

She put on her favorite deep red sports bra and one of her many Hufflepuff shirts that she had turned into a crop top. Her leggings were a simple black with mesh cutouts from mid-thigh down on the outer side of the legs. Wrestling boots were the last part of the whole outfit, making her feel absolutely amazing.

As Selene made her way to where the rings were, she noticed a couple people who had found the cupcakes and they both had smiles on their faces. This only made her morning even better.

Once she made it to the rings, she noticed Hunter standing next to one of the rings talking to Riddle, Damian, and from the looks of it, from the other side of the room, Kacy. Selene had heard about Kacy thanks to Ricochet and from the pictures of them together, they looked super cute and adorable together.

“Morning Hunter, Kacy.” Selene glared at Riddle who didn’t even look at her. “Riddle and morning Damian.” She couldn’t help but smile when her eyes met with Damians. He smiled back at her with a slight smirk which didn’t help her in the slightest.

“Morning Selene.” Hunter smiled at her. “There is a slight change in plans for your return to NXT.”

“Oh really, what changes have been made?” Her eyebrow quirked up as she asked.

“Well, I was talking to Christian the other day and he suggested that the Wednesday before Survivor Series have you come back in a surprise match that would be the main event for the night.” He looked at her as she thought it through.

“If Christian thinks it would be a good idea, well then I think it could be great.” Selene trusted Christian, especially since he was like a father/uncle figure to her, besides Hunter. “What kind of match are you thinking about? A normal match, a tag match, a mixed tag match?”

“I was thinking of doing a mixed tag match. That way it helps you prep for that Sunday and it won’t be too much for your first match back after your ankle.”

“Don’t worry about a match being too much for me in a couple months. My ankle is healed and I’m just ready to get back in the ring.”

“That’s what I love to hear.” He nods his head towards the ring. “Get in there and lets get this training started with.”

Selene climbed up on the side of the ring then stepped through the ropes. Hunter quickly instructed her to get a feel for the ring and start warming up. She did exactly that, the more she bounced off the ropes on all four sides of the ring the more she felt at home. As she went to bounce off one side, she never expected her ass to fall through the second rope. Riddle had pulled the second rope down climbing up on the side of the ring just as Selene went to bounce off it. This caused her to fall right into Damian’s arms.

He smiled down at her and this caused her to get flustered. The man hasn’t even said a single word to her and he has her completely flustered. His smile turned into a smirk as he set her down on the side of the ring then glared at Riddle.

Selene looked up from Damian’s handsome face to see Riddle shrug his shoulders. This simple act would seem harmless but if it wasn’t for the fact that he just caused her to fall through the ropes. The look on her face morphed to a serious look. Hunter stood by the side of the ring and smirked, he knew that when Selene had that look she was about to beat someone's ass.

Selene climbed back into the ring and tilted her head from side to side, cracking her neck in the process. Then she cracked her knuckles as she glared at Riddle. He just stood there and smirked cockily. This didn’t help in the slightest.

“Selene, what do you think you could do to me?” His tone sounded light but taunting. “You’re about 5’2, what can you.”

Without a single word, Selene hit him hard in the abdomen with a spear. She sat up on her knees as she tossed her hair over her head, mimicking something Edge had done. A moment later she stood up and stepped away from Riddle so he was able to start getting up off the mat. He tried to get over the surprise attack. He didn’t get up fast enough though.

Selene took the opportunity and lifted Riddles head up, just like Aleister does before he hits black mass. She grabbed him by the chin as he looked a bit dazed still. “Don’t ever taunt my height again.” She then spun around and the top of her foot hit the side of Riddles head, laying him out. “Everyone is the same height when they are laying out cold on the mat.”

“That’s my girl.” A familiar gruff voice came from the other side of the room. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen White Mass.”

“Aleister! Zelina!” Selene looked happy to see him along with Zelina.

“Looking to make a NXT comeback I see.” Selene nodded her head. Aleister looked at Hunter. “Who’s she tagging with for that mixed tag match you were talking about?”

Hunter looked at Aleister to Selene to Damian. “Damian Priest.”

#a battle of giants #damian priest x oc(selene)#damian priest #wwe fanfiction #original character (Selene)#sheamus x oc(selene)

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diyunho · 5 years

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The Joker x Reader - “Secrets” Part 3

The Joker did something so unforgivable and despicable you don’t ever want to see him again. After months of avoiding The King of Gotham, you really can’t understand why he appointed you as the only person to take care of his son in case of emergency. There’s no way you’ll accept to help the little boy in his father’s absence, yet the three years old has no fault in what happened between you and your ex.

Frost just called with a security report for The Joker: most of the henchmen in the building are dead; five missing for the moment and his best guess is that they are the ones who sold his boss out and allowed Ezra to get inside the Penthouse. Maybe even helped the New York gang kill the others; no way to know for sure until watching the footage from all the cameras scattered around the premises.

You and J barely convinced Alexis to go back to sleep after he was given a bath: the three years old was very agitated and scared, which is understandable after what happened just a couple of hours ago. The fact that he’s sick didn’t help either: his fever increased and you had to put in extra effort in order to convince him to swallow his medicine.

“Can y-you take him to Los Angeles for a few days until I clean up the m-mess here?” The Joker asks, struggling to wrap new bandages around the surgical marks on his right leg. The soft fabric of the sweat pants keep on sliding down his foot and J lifts it up again, frustrated he can’t manage to keep it in place.

“Yes, no problem,” you agree and check your cell, waiting for your father to call.

Jase didn’t answer his phone and Y/N left a short message urging him to get a hold of her as soon as possible. You really don’t know how you’ll explain what you did: invoking the code in order to offer protection to another clan is a serious matter and The Godfather won’t be happy to hear that J has LA’s alliance now.

Not after everything The Clown Prince of Crime did.

“For God’s sake,” you sigh and decide to be the bigger person, kneeling in front of an irritated Joker that just can’t get the gauze around his scars. “Hold this,” you frown and he grabs one end of the roll while you cover his skin with the dressing. “It seems healed,” you point out, continuing to patch him up.

“The doctor told m-me to do it for one more month. Nothing that can be d-done about the way I talk; I hope it goes a-away,” J shares extra information you don’t care to hear. “A-are you sure you don’t mind t-taking my son?” the question makes you yank at the bandages and the change in mood is evident.

“I don’t mind,” you respond through your clenched teeth. “What I do mind though is being lied to. What I do mind is you being secretly married to another woman. What I do mind is you pretending you liked me,” you pause for a second to breathe in much needed air. “What I do mind is you convincing me that we should have a baby when I didn’t want one. What I do mind is you saying that if it’s a boy we should name him Alexis when you already had a son named Alexis with your wife!!!” you raise your voice, incapable of stopping the tirade.

“So?” The Joker bitterly replies, in a very foul disposition himself.

You slap J and he instinctively closes his eyes before the second strike lands on his already numb cheek.

“A-are you done?” he growls, barely restraining the urge to escalate the fight that just started.

You glare at him without blinking, enraged by the indifference of his hurtful actions. So many thoughts rushing through your head and you don’t have a chance to tell The Joker everything you want because your phone suddenly rings. You take it out of the pocket, correctly guessing your father is calling back.

“Do this yourself!” you hiss and undo the bandages wrapped around J’s scars, getting up in a hurry.

“W-what the fuck, Y/N?!”

You don’t even pay attention to his tantrum since reporting to the Godfather is more important than listening to your former boyfriend’s complaint.

“When Alexis wakes up, I’m gone! I don’t want to spend one extra single minute in your presence!” you shout and rush towards the terrace, pressing the screen of your cell. “Hi daddy,” you soften your tone and step outside, slamming the glass door behind you.

J forcefully exhales, staring at the gauze loosely hanging down his foot.

“Goddammit,” he grumbles and bites his lower lip, not excited on how the conversation ended.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been a jerk for once?...

Definitely.

Not after what you did for him and his son.

The woman J used in such a despicable manner didn’t think twice about saving a child that’s not hers; LA’s future queen didn’t even hesitate to save the man that made a fool out of her and didn’t deserve any kind of help no matter the circumstances.

The Joker shouldn’t have been a jerk…

Not today.

*************

Three days afterwards

“Sir, The Godfather is here,” Frost announces on intercom to a less than pleased King of Gotham.

“…Great…” J talks in a low voice, dreading the imminent meeting he was expecting anyway. “Let him pass,” the consent is given even if Jase doesn’t need it: the mobster is already in the elevator, going up to a Penthouse he hates infinitely more since The Joker’s secret was discovered.

Your father stomps out the elevator, immediately noticing the green haired Clown Prince of Crime sitting down on the couch closest to the center of the living room. The Joker wants to get up but Jase cuts him off:

“Sit down and don’t insult me with more fake respect!”

J smirks and The Godfather is already fed up with person he always despised and barely tolerated because of his daughter’s request.

“I heard we have a situation,” Jase grumbles and halts in front of The Joker, his menacing demeanor warning of a disastrous outcome in case things go wrong.

“You c-can say that,” the vague answer makes your parent lose his temper:

“YOU WILL DO NOTHING! You won’t seek revenge, you won’t move a finger until our year of forced partnership is done!! Gotham is under LA’s protection for 12 months and there’s nothing that can be done!”

“A-apparently,” The Joker’s insolent remark prompts so much outrage it’s nearly impossible to suppress the damage:

“You insolent prick! You were learning how to crawl when I was already building my empire! Do you think I’m intimidated by the likes of you?! I AM THE GODFATHER!!!” Jase shouts while J puckers his lips, aware he shouldn’t push it yet he can’t shut up:

“And I’m The Joker! I w-won’t let anyone…”

“You’re The Joker?!” your father interrupts. “Do you know you would be dead right now if it wasn’t for Y/N?! Why do you think I didn’t come for you when I found out what you did, hm? Do you think I just turned a blind eye to your affront? ME??!! NEVER!! I wanted to do exactly what Ezra did and my daughter begged me not to!!! You’re still here breathing because of Y/N! Do you understand?!!”

The two men hatefully stare at each other, none of them willing to lose any ground despite the sticky crisis they landed in. J is fuming and your parent is far past enraged: he’s furious to the point of sharing something personal to prove his affirmations.

“I never understood what my daughter saw in you, Joker!” Jase snarls. “I had such a bad feeling about your relationship and I’m never wrong about that stuff!”

“Then y-you should have t-told her!” The Clown bites back since this is the perfect opportunity to retaliate.

“I DID!” your father screams. “But Y/N insisted she loves you and I had to stomach your company because if she was happy, then I guess I had to accept it! And for what?! For you to break her heart again after it took her forever to recover from what happened with Sean?!”

The Joker surely wishes to lash out but the last sentence catches him by surprise: why would The Godfather mention Sean? The insane events that occurred a few years ago are sort of common knowledge in the underworld: Sean was your boyfriend until it was discovered he was actually an undercover CIA agent.

“I failed my daughter,” your father’s firm tone diminishes while confessing to the ugly truth. “Sean passed all the background checks; there was nothing suspicious about him. Believe me when I tell you I was very thorough: I wouldn’t just let anyone come so close to her. And when I found out by accident…” Jase deeply inhales, flustered, “…it was goddamned late, 10 days after he proposed.”

J’s eyes get big at the revelation: he had no idea about this part of the story and for once he keeps quiet and listens, intrigued.

“I went over to their house with my crew and dragged him out of bed in the middle of the night. Y/N was very agitated, not comprehending what was going on until I told her and showed the evidence. I’ll never forget the look on her face: she seemed so lost staring at those papers and pictures certifying that Sean was Matt Simmons, CIA agent infiltrating our lives in order to bring me down. He didn’t care about her; she was just an assignment…”

The Joker wants to finally reply, yet The Godfather won’t allow interference:

“He knew what was in store for him and he kept on begging, promising he was truly in love with her and stating he didn’t report to his superiors in a while and had no intention in doing so. Who knows?... Maybe he did love her after all…,” Jase straightens his shoulders. “I doubt Y/N heard any of his vows; she was too shocked to process the gravity of the news. I should have been more vigilant, but I didn’t see it coming: she yanked the gun out of my hand and shot him in the head. I think she regretted her choice the moment she pulled the trigger, but it was already too late…” your father mutters.

The Joker weights in all this information thrown at him since he had no clue you were the one that killed your ex: everyone assumed it must have been your father.

“Do you know how hard it is to watch your only child die a little bit more each day? I‘m not talking about death in the real sense of the word, but about the worst kind of demise: when you lose someone you loved so much that nothing else matters. And then you came along,” Jase shrieks getting to the conclusion he was aiming for since the beginning of the dialogue: “And you were infinitely more appalling than Sean: at least he was doing his job, while you were nothing but a greedy, manipulative asshole!”

The King of Gotham is so aggravated by The Godfather’s comments his heart is pounding out of his chest.

“Y-you can’t t-talk to me like this!!” he stands up to confront Jase but your parent is immune to the Clown’s threat.

“I can and I will!!” he yells. “That’s why you will do nothing! Got it?! Stay put! In the meantime, be grateful Y/N is such a saint offering safe haven to a little boy that’s not hers! If you think tending to Alexis is a piece of cake, THINK AGAIN!!!!!!” Jase lectures a stunned Joker to the point of starting a physical altercation, but he manages to contain himself and walks away towards the elevator, mumbling: “Son of a bitch!”

The Joker is left in the middle of the living room, completely stupefied at your father’s rant: it’s tough for him to grasp the notion of not being invincible or untouchable. And he is aware why Ezra came after him: because The King of Gotham did to his daughter the same thing that was done to you. J used her also in order to acquire what he wanted since his wife didn’t mind the little indiscretions as long as they were able to get richer, more powerful and influential. And now Nessa was lying 6 feet under after he barely escaped the ambush that almost claimed his life too.

Once his secret was out, everything came crashing down so fast he didn’t have time to process what it all meant: when you claw your way up without any remorse, you might end up bleeding worse than the ones you tear apart.

************

2 weeks later

Nixon is guiding The Joker around the patio, the final destination only a few feet away: he’s here to pick up his son and the bodyguard thought you’re still outdoors, yet there’s no sign of you or Alexis. Only Harvey Dent relaxing on the cozy sofa under the umbrella shadowing the guest from the late afternoon sunlight.

“Hm,” Nixon halts. “She was here a few minutes ago; I’ll go search for her. Please take a seat Mister Joker,” the man offers and J nonchalantly limps towards the ottoman opposite Two Face, sneering.

“Dent…”

Harvey taps his fingers on the mixed drink he’s holding, already annoyed by the green haired visitor.

“Joker…” he acknowledges the unwanted presence.

They watch in silence as the goon disappears inside the house before Dent inquires:

“Are you here to get your kid?”

“U-hum,” J admits. “You?”

“Visiting.”

The Joker tugs at his longer than usual locks gathered in a ponytail while bending over to grab a bottle of water from the table. A gust of wind blows a few shorter strands right on his face and he brushes them off, huffing.

“Y/N went to put your little boy to sleep; I guess he needed a nap,” Harvey communicates in such a sour manner it instantly irks J. “Some people wouldn’t recognize a good thing happening to their miserable existence even if they had it written black on white.”

The Clown grinds his teeth, vexed:

“You have s-something to say to me, D-Dent?!”

“Oh,” and the scarred ex-politician pauses before gulping down his cocktail,”I have plenty to say to you!”

The clash is inevitable but actually terminated before it blows out of proportions since you are coming out of the mansion.

J stands up and greets a displeased Y/N that was expecting him tomorrow morning, not that it really makes a difference: her world is turned upside down every time she sees him anyway.

“Alexis just fell asleep and I don’t want to wake him up,” you ignore his false politeness and march towards the two individuals postponing their brawl. “He often has nightmares after what happened with Ezra and it’s best to let him rest.”

“C-can I sleep here t-tonight then and we’ll take off in the m-morning?”

You are not a huge fan of the idea, yet you consent for the sake of the three year old that you took under your wing when you didn’t have to.

“OK. You can sleep in his room, there’s an extra bed in there. You can order food, one of my curriers can go pick it up for you. Or you can eat whatever you want from the fridge,” you extend your hospitality and bite in the same time: “I’m sure you remember where stuff is; nothing has changed except…everything.”

The Joker doesn’t reply and Harvey can’t help but realize how much you struggle to keep it together; he wonders if J realized also or if he even gives a damn. Probably not.

“Y/N,” Harvey intervenes. “When you have a moment, could we please work on my transaction?” he elegantly gets you out of the unpleasant meeting using the main reason he’s there for.

You momentarily snap out of it, grateful to oblige.

“Of course. Yes,” you add and escort him through the glass panels leading towards the stairs that will take Dent to the second floor where your bedroom is.

J is left alone, not that he doesn’t enjoy the solitude. He’s indeed debating on what he should have for dinner, maybe dishes he can share with his son after he wakes up from his nap. The Joker wishes to talk to you and he speculates you won’t want to listen to anything he has to say. Why bother?

He lost that privilege a long time ago.

*************

“How much would you like to invest?” you get on your laptop while Harvey is stretching on the leather sectional in front of the TV.

“Same as always, please.”

“Alright, it will take me a few seconds for the wire transfers between accounts,” you type in a frenzy and almost ignore his honest concern:

“Are you ok?”

“Huh?” you lift your head higher while glued to the screen: you crave the welcomed distraction so badly nothing else counts.

“Are you ok?” he repeats and the evasive response heightens his uneasiness regarding the apparent calm Y/N.

“I’m perfect, no worries,” you crack a smile and glance his way.

Dent scratches his scar, disputing on his next sentences.

“I’m asking because…e-hem…because you used to have this sparkle in your eyes and now it’s gone,” he blurs out before he loses confidence in his speech. “I know it’s not my place to comment, but I thought you should know someone noticed…”

Your hands stop on the keyboard and fighting the tears back is somehow so much harder than wearing the mask you parade with in front of everybody, including your father.

“You want to know how I noticed?” he pushes it more, hoping you will understand he’s well intended. “After Rachel died, I see the same emptiness daily when I look in the mirror. It might not be the same situation…”

“Harvey!!” you cut him off and he suddenly registers he’s out of line.

You sniffle and wipe the tears rolling down your cheeks, the bottled up emotions too strong to control.

“I’m very sorry,” he scoots over, upset he made you cry.

You start sobbing and Dent feels so bad he instantaneously curses his stupid decision.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut,” and he’s relieved when you grab his hand and squeeze it.

“Thank you,” you faintly articulate and Harvey offers the box of tissue from the coffee table with his free hand, still uneasy about your present condition. “You’re a good man,” you whisper and he shakes his head, regretfully informing:

“Used to be, honey. Used to be…”

You let go of his fingers and he softly caresses your shoulders since he doesn’t know what else to do.

“Yyyy/Nnnnn,” Alexis pushes the cracked door opened. “Ynnn/Nnnn,” he whines and you jump from your spot eager to lift him up in your arms.

“What is it sweetheart? Another bad dream?” you inquire and the little one rubs his eyes, pouting.

“Whe’s mommy?” he buries his face in your neck, comforted by the woman’s embrace.

“Your mommy’s very far away,” you signal Harvey to sit down since he’s preparing to flee. “I’ll return soon,” you wink and exit your bedroom in order to take the three year old back to his chamber.

“Whe’s daddy?” Alexis yawns and you gather the strength to be cheerful for an innocent child’s sake.

“Daddy will be here when you wake up,” you kiss his temple. “After your nap you can play in the backyard, then we’ll have dinner and you can watch cartoons, ok?”

“U-hum,” he agrees and you lay him in bed, covering him up with the soft blanket.

“Do you want your giraffe?” you push the toy on his pillow and he snatches it, sulking.

“I’ll stay here until you fall asleep,” Y/N soothes The Joker’s son the best way she can, reckoning if it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t be alive right now. And that makes her sadder.

The young boy got under her skin and even if he reminds her of his father’s deceit, she wouldn’t have it any other way; keeping Alexis close is a way to make sure she always stays alert:

When you give your heart away and it’s returned to you in pieces, a few will go missing each time it happens until there’s nothing left.

************

Two hours afterwards

J is walking towards your master bedroom, angered he left his cane on the patio: his leg is hurting and the limp only makes it worse. Ten minutes ago he received a text with new information that you and The Godfather will be interested in also: it might not change the situation as a whole, but the plot twist could ensure he takes full advantage of the forced alliance between LA and Gotham. That’s what The Joker does anyway: he exploits every tiny thing to his advantage and the fresh data is certainly no petty scrap.

The door to your room is still opened simply because when you have Alexis over you want him to have easy access to your quarters, most likely to snuggle under the covers with the nice lady that’s taking care of him.

J pries the door open and wants to call out your name when the sight compiles the opposite: you dozed off cuddled up to Harvey, both covered with his suits’ jacket. After you invited him to stay and watch a movie you passed out first and he didn’t dare wiggle; he just used his coat to ensure you’re not going to get cold with the AC blasting from the ceiling. Having Y/N near him felt genuinely peaceful and Dent snoozed without a care in the universe for the first time in years.

And even someone like The King of Gotham can’t help but discern the vague smile on Harvey’s lips: the smile of a man that’s been through hell and he’s finally granted a small piece of heaven.

Part 1: diyunho(.)tumblr(.)com/post/177920419051/the-joker-x-reader-secrets-part-1

Part 2: diyunho(.)tumblr(.)com/post/178630090876/the-joker-x-reader-secrets-part-2