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headchamberlain · 2 months

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Were you mad at Nikolai when Fyodor died?

like I know he’s back now, but what were your feelings?

"Oh.

I... I suppose I was.

I felt quite some intense hatred. I love master like a God, he is everything to me. For him to be ripped away was... something I was not able to push through.

Hearing about the 'game' and the poison... made me angry at the jester. I kept telling myself, 'why did he not teleport him out of there while he could? Why did he just stand there?'. I believed it was all of his fault. Most importantly I believed it was mine, as well.

It is a selfish thing, I am aware. I am a sinful man. I suppose this is why I need master to cleanse me of these thoughts and feelings.

So, er... haha, here is your answer!"

#mm angst #bungou stray dogs #bsd ivan #bungou gay dogs #bsd rp #ivan g #bsd ivan goncharov #ivan goncharov #bsd rp blog #bsd

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jasminegazer · 4 months

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Difference Between the Appearance:A TMNT Mutant Mayhem Fanfic

A month or so after the attack from Super Duper fly the turtles have finally started to get adjusted to their new life.They have friends, fun things to try, and best of all their family has their back. But when a new stream of crimes starts to hit the streets and enemies hide around every alley, the turtles may have to face the music and resume to fighting for their and possibly the entirety of mutantity’s survival. But this is different than last time.And when Mikey is kidnapped and they meet an assassin girl their age with ties to some of the nastiest crimes bosses in, possibly, the world things might not always seem as they appear.

TW!!!!!!:This comic includes: Cursing, Trauma, Kidnapping, Mentions of Murder, Blood, and more

Chapter 1: Part 1, Part 2

Chapter 2: Part 1 Part 2

Chapter 3: Part 1 Part 2

Chapter 4: Part 1 Part 2

Chapter 5: Part 1 Part 2

Chapter 6: Part 1 Part 2

Chapter 7: Part 1 Part 2

(PS this is my first fanfic so please don’t hate and I’m sorry if it’s cringy and dumb)

#tmnt mutant mayhem #fanfic #mm angst #Not cannon #My original au #Please don’t copy or steal this please please PLEASE

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nek0mars · 2 years

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Prayers to the Stars (just some short Seven angst for angst enjoyers)

He had been sitting there for a while, clacking away on his keyboard. The area surrounding him was messy—empty Honey Buddha Chip bags and cans of Dr. Pepper littered the small and uncomfortable space where he’d chosen to set up his devices.

MC knew that Seven hadn’t eaten in hours. Frown lines began to crease her forehead as she stared at the back of Seven’s head. She was worried. She was so worried that—against his wishes—she found herself entering into what he’d called his “hacking bubble.” Lightly touching his shoulder, she prepared to ask him if he wanted to have dinner with her. Suddenly, she felt him shudder, and she quickly withdrew her hand, regretting her actions.

“What?” he snapped, quickly pulling down his headphones.

He did not turn around to face her.

MC flinched. In the 7 days she’d known him, he’d never once acted this coldly. There’d always been times where he’d distanced himself from her, but he’d never lashed out at her like this before. The quick change of his personality practically pushed her to the brink of tears.

Instead of asking him if he wanted to eat dinner with her, her emotions got the better of her, and the questions began to bubble up on their own.

“Why…why are you doing this? Don’t– don’t you care? About…about...me?” she asked meekly.

Seven finally whirled around, responding only with a stormy glare. She could see his figure begin to shake, but she couldn’t understand why. Was he angry? Or irritated? Trying to dispel the questions running through her mind, she continued speaking to him in a wavering voice…a voice ready to betray her at any moment.

“Seven, please, can’t you answer my ques–”

“I don’t care about your feelings, okay?! Just… stop. Stop caring about me! You don’t even know me…! Just stop…okay?”

MC’s bottom lip began to quaver. Seeing her reaction to his outburst, Seven sighed.

“Just…just let me work, MC. Leave me alone, it’s…” he trailed off, hesitating a bit.

It’s for the best, he thought to himself.

And without finishing his sentence, he turned away from her in order to hide the anguish and pain in his eyes from hers. He slipped his headphones back on, sat back down, and continued from where he’d left off, typing out the code essential for their survival. Staying focused on this task was difficult; it took all his willpower not to somehow integrate traces of MC into the code before him.

Once again, with a grimace, he silently acknowledged the secrets he’d hidden from this woman. This woman who was strong, kind, funny, beautiful…This woman he’d unwittingly fallen for over the past week.

To his surprise, he began to hear the sounds of quiet sobs muffled by his headphones. MC was crying behind him.

God…why did it have to be like this? he thought, blinking back bitter tears.

Oh, how he wished that God would answer his prayers. Before, there was only one thing in this world he wanted more than anything: for Saeran to be safe. Now, he realized with a start that he’d been subconsciously praying a new prayer along with the old one.

Please, God, I want to tell her everything. If not everything, then at least let me tell her…let me tell her that…that I… love her...

…He knew there was no easy chance for a miracle. He was too deeply convinced that his wishes weren’t meant to be granted by anyone. Not by God, not by V—

—and especially not by MC.

MC… was an angel. An angel sent from heaven to give him hope and light though his depression and darkness. He knew she could see sides of him that no one else would have ever seen, and she was entirely and utterly perfect. But he knew he wouldn’t dare taint her purity with the darkness that followed him.

No, instead, he would forever be Luciel, a man on the brink of darkness. Darkness that he couldn’t let MC fall into. His heart was in complete torment, but he tried to convince himself it would be better this way. He’d never—never—forgive himself if something happened to MC.

He really wished with all his soul that it didn’t have to end like this.

It was then he realized if things continued this way, there would be so many things MC would never know.

She would never know the guilt he felt the moment he began to distance himself from her.

She would never know how his heart broke the moment he raised his voice at her.

She would never know how desperately he wished he could wipe her tears away.

She would never know…how much he’d fallen for her.

This revelation tore his heart apart even more, and he pushed a hand to his chest in an effort to keep together the pieces within him that threatened to crumble away. He knew it would make no difference, but he did it anyway, and took a moment to feel the sad beating of his breaking heart. ------------------------- Thanks for reading!! Lemme know if you’d like more of this type of thing! :) - Kat

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ya-boi-haru · 1 year

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Redacted angsty headcannon/ AU

While growing up together, Asher started to fall for David and it was a "Friends to Lovers". He never told anyone, he was scared to lose the friendship and was also working stuff out about it.

Then David became Alpha and Asher became his Beta, things changed, but Asher still loved him.

Over time Asher was still in love with him, which is why when David was telling Asher about how they met 'Angel' it crushed him.

He knew he had to move on and slowly did, then he 'Baaabe' and things got even better.

Still nobody knows about the crush he used to have.

(Im not a writer, this sounded more poetic in my head xD

Will cosplay this tho)

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted david #redacted asher #mm angst #redacted AU #redacted headcanons #they're totally gay your honour

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paladin-n-cleric · 2 years

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“you’ve never looked at me the way you look at him”

#mm angst #stranger things #stranger things 4 #byler

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m00r3-starzz · 2 years

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]Clotted’s timebreak au[

Clotted had been in his room for awhile, he didn’t seem alright at all, everyone including oyster was concerned, but that was until, he started being happy ..too happy

What was going on with him.. ?

@rebuilding-paradise

#HEHE ANGST #mm angst #mm

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fox-buried-in-maple-leaves · 1 year

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One Act

"You knew this would happen."

Alee inhaled quietly, eyes soft, glossy with tears that he refused to shed. It was Mieran who stood at the end of the bed, his eyes not focused on the task at hand, but rather, the man sitting in the chair. "I know." Alee finally responded. The magical disguise he wore flickered, as if he couldn't hold onto the spell.

The soul had been reaped, all that was left behind an empty shell. That was the difficult part of immortality. Alee exhaled deeply, looking down at the cold hand in his. It was hard for Mieran, watching the man's stoic face twitch. The way he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, the way he breathed steadily, the way his eyes didn't focus.

"We told-"

"Told me not to take in humans, I know. They're weaker, they're mortal. Anything and everything can go wrong. I know." Alee brought the young woman's hand up, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. "But some experiences never go away. And.." Alee's next breath was shakier as he looked at the body in the bed. It was just too familiar.

He swore he'd do better, swore he'd help people. Alee blinked. A single tear slipped past his lashes, dark mascara ran down his cheek. Old age he could handle. He could handle knowing they had a long full life because of him, his family. But this was different. "Mister Destan?" Alee exhaled softly, his disguise in place as he turned some to look at the doctor entering the room. "Do you need more time?"

Alee looked back at the young woman in the bed, ignoring the way Mieran looked at him with sympathy. "No.. No, I'm okay." Alee stood up, giving the woman's hand a gentle squeeze. He knew there was no better place. He gently put her hand beside her in the hospital bed. Alee hesitantly reached out, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear. "Sleep well, Paige."

And then he turned to leave, giving the doctor his quiet thanks as he passed by him. Mieran, albeit not visible, quietly followed after the sorcerer. And he seemed fine, he'd done all the paperwork already. Just needed to go home, her belongings clutched in a bag in his arms. His disguise fell away in the parking garage.

Mieran reacted quickly, catching Alee before he fell. "It's okay.." The reaper held him, arms wrapping tight around the sorcerer. And still Alee couldn't cry. Just kept telling himself he knew this would happen. He knew the risks of taking care of humans who were just like him once. Humans that didn't have the failsafe of not being able to die. Mieran ran his fingers through Alee's hair, the sorcerer shaking in his arms but silent.

"We did everything we could for her. Some people.. They can't be.."

Saved.

And while Alee knew that was logical, knew that he couldn't save everyone, couldn't protect everyone. He still blamed himself. Alee brought her into the family, the simple action causing a domino effect. He was the reason his family had to mourn another loss. "Let's go home, okay? They're waiting for us." Mieran helped Alee stand, and helped him back to the car. Even took the car keys to drive. They weren't far from home anyway.

He looked through the bag to occupy his mind, but it only served to make things worse when her possessions were so few. Clothes, keyring, wallet, phone. He opened her wallet wordlessly, watched it unfold, revealing photo booth photos of her and their family. A random act of violence. One random act of violence. Alee looked at the house from the driveway, unable to talk himself into getting out of the car.

"I'll be in in a minute."

Mieran sighed but obliged, leaving him alone in the car. And alone in the car, Alee cried.

#⋆｡°✩ Alee #⋆｡°✩ Kir Royale #𓆩✧𓆪 Mieran #☾*✲⋆. Fates' Will #☾*✲⋆. Creatio Ex Chao #mm angst

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nell0-0 · 1 month

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AHHHH! He lost his EYE in the war! AHHHH!

I am perfectly normal about your last comic. I swear. Very normal. Just...not at all sobbing and emotional over it. You should know that. Definitely. ;_;

It's so good and so sad!

Yep ;u;

Glad you liked it tho!

Take the broken mask drawing as symbolism (?). A piece of him is now forever a part of Mask, and there's no taking that back.

There are many protrayals of Fierce Deity out there, but I like to think he ain't necessarily mean (quite the contrary), just a bit out of touch with how hylians work and feel. Fierce Deity deemed some things necessary for Mask's survival and well being, and not necessarily all of them were free of consequences. It was done with good intentions tho. If only he bothered to explain/tell Mask that...

Tormenting Twilight a bit is fun sometimes too ksksks

> Context about the ask HERE

> Twili Twilight looks HERE

> Continuation of this HERE

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tridenopmoth · 4 months

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They made up, almost :) Okay, this was the last Catmael, I promise I won't draw it anymore (well, until someone requested more)

One of the few gifs that has full color. I actually thought of leaving it as a sketch, but I added a line and then a color… there is something to correct, but I am happy with the result

#limbus company #ishmael limbus #heathcliff limbus #ishmael #heathcliff #heathmael #NOW INDEED I CAN CALL IT HEATHMAEL #In general #I had another idea for them #more mm angst #But now it's just this

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missmonsters2 · 1 year

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Your Touch is My Shelter

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: 6 months later, Natasha returns from the dead. It's a tightly kept secret as it's unknown how she returned, but everyone claws and fights about who will keep watch over her like savages. You're far down the list of people who should protect her, but you find yourself unable to leave her be.

Warnings/Tags: hurt/comfort. undisclosed trauma. physical and mental signs of trauma. angst. somber assisted bath time. sad hair braiding. emphasis on hurt AND comfort.

Note: This takes place after endgame :-) the dates might be inaccurate idk i did my best 🥲 ha-ha enjoy 👁️👁️

Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Count: 5.2k

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You heard the news through Bruce.

Well, it was through Bruce telling Pepper, and you just happened to be at the coffee machine getting shitty coffee. The quality drastically dropped since Tony was gone, and you've been putting off telling Pepper she needed to literally buy anything else.

You didn't really know how long was the appropriate time for someone to grieve before you could ask if they could buy another brand of coffee.

Tony was gone.

A part of you thinks you keep putting off telling Pepper because then you'd have to face—really face—he was gone.

Steve was gone.

What did it matter, really, in the grand scheme of things? Coffee was just coffee, and it'd probably taste fine if you just put a shitload of sugar and creamer in it.

Vision was gone.

Honestly, you only really noticed because it was the same brand as whatever was stocked up at the Avengers Compound.

Natasha was gone.

But perhaps the coffee always tasted bad at the Compound and it had nothing to do with Tony being gone. Natasha used to bring coffee into the office most days for people, and Clint filled in the other days.

Maybe Tony Stark just liked shitty coffee, and you were only now just noticing it.

Natasha was back.

Your hand faltered at the coffee machine, spilling a little of it on your hand, and the burn stung immediately.

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked as he noticed you inhale a sharp breath.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You smiled awkwardly at him before looking at Pepper. "Morgan's fine. She just has the flu and her fever's gone down. Make sure she gets plenty of rest and fluids. I'm going to set up a humidifier for her and help her settle into bed with a movie and wait for her to fall asleep before I head out."

Pepper let out a heavy breath, putting her hand over her chest in relief. "Oh, perfect. Thank you so much for coming suddenly. I just—Morgan doesn't really like going to the hospital, and suddenly she started throwing up and having a fever—"

"It's fine, Pepper," you waved off her ramblings after you wiped what you spilled on the counter. "You can always call me if you need me."

"Seriously, I think I might just employ you full-time as a live-in doctor if you say that," Pepper joked, and you laughed.

"I am already your live-in doctor, just for one of your research labs. instead."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You don't think about Natasha—at least, you try not to.

You heard things here and there about it through Pepper. Apparently, she's being held in a government facility similar to The Raft, detained like some criminal they needed to study instead of the war hero who sacrificed everything to save the world.

It made you sick to your stomach.

But you hear that Clint, Bruce, and Nick Fury have been fighting to get custody of her, so you don't think about it. There were people who knew Natasha far better than you did and were way closer to her than you were.

She was in good hands.

So, you continue on with your daily routine to pass your monotonous days, unaware you're waiting for some kind of update.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The next time you heard about Natasha Romanoff, it was Clint and Bruce cornering you at your lab.

"What?" You panicked, tensing up. "Why me?"

"You're the only person Natasha ever sought out to treat her," Clint answered, and you felt even more lost at the fact he knew. "Natasha allows medical professionals onsite to help her, but there were times she left to go see you. That has to mean something."

But, of course, he knew. He was Natasha's...best friend. And Clint was an incredibly nosy person, even if Natasha didn't tell him.

"I've only treated her a handful of times—literally only five times. I don't know her that well," you shook your head, trying to walk around them. "I didn't even know she had a sister until you told me."

"Please," Clint begged. "I'm fighting to get her out, and the doctors they have looking after her are shady and callous with her. I can only visit her with Nick's influence, but it's not enough to get her out of there."

"And what do you suppose I can do?"

"You're a renowned cellular biologist," Bruce cut in. "If they're holding her for research, we want someone on our side who will at least treat her like a human being. The faster we get answers, the faster we can get her out."

"Please," Clint begged again. "Natasha needs help. She's...different. And it's only going to get worse if she remains in there. She's not talking, and they won't let her go until they can find some answers."

It felt wrong.

You don't want to study Natasha Romanoff like an animal. Despite being a scientist with an inquisitive mind, you don't care about how she returned.

But it sounded like Natasha would be researched whether you liked it or not. And if that was the case, you do wonder how the other doctors may be treating her.

"Fine, we're going first thing in the morning," you gritted out, unable to block out the handful of memories of times you've treated her.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

June 2012

"Oo, that looks painful," you hissed in sympathy as a redhead with a busted lip and nasty gash on her temple entered the med bay.

There was a snort that sounded like a half-grunt. "It looks worse than it feels. I hope I'm not intruding, but Tony said I should see you to be treated."

"Natasha, right?" You asked slowly, gesturing to a seat for her to take as you grabbed some medical supplies.

"Yes," Natasha replied, equally slow with caution.

"Tony talks about you a lot," you tried to reassure her of whatever paranoia she might have. It probably didn't help that Natasha was still in her catsuit and probably would've preferred to be called by her alias.

"Well, don't believe everything he says," Natasha gives a light but somewhat tight smile.

"Oh, so you aren't a unique woman with high intellect, sneaky, and rightfully smug?" You teased, and it was flattering that you could make a superhero laugh.

You began treating Natasha's wound carefully.

"You're pretty good at this, doc," Natasha commented as you blew on her brow, even if it didn't sting. "You're pretty gentle. Must be why Tony says you're his personal doctor."

You chuckled. "I'm actually a cellular biologist. Tony is funding my research and pretty much my lifestyle. With the money he's paying me, he can come crying about his boo-boos anytime. Although, he doesn't really come to me for serious stuff. It's usually if he has something ridiculous like a papercut."

"But you can treat wounds and other medical things?"

"I was on my way to becoming a medical doctor before I decided to go into research instead."

"Huh," Natasha hummed, raising her brow at you. "Smart cookie."

"I'd like to think so," you finished cleaning Natasha's wound and putting a bandaid over it. "Feel free to come see me if you need any other basic medical aid. For a pretty redhead, it's free of charge."

"And if I come back blonde?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," you smiled, and Natasha smirked back at you.

"Smart and funny. Tony has it too good."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

April 2014

"This is the worst bandage job I've ever seen. Who did you go to see for this? A grocery clerk?"

Natasha grunted. "Hi, to you too, doc."

You looked at Natasha, noticing how different her hair is now. But it's been about two years since you have seen her. Despite your offer for her to come to you anytime she needed help, she never did. Or she rarely did, you supposed.

You could only deduce that Natasha was used to caring for her wounds on her own. That, or she didn't trust you.

"Alright, let's go to my office," you sighed.

"Am I interrupting?"

"Not really, kind of hit a brick wall."

"Oh, me too."

You looked over at Natasha, who had a straight face, but you noticed the bruise on her temple outside the obvious gun wound on her shoulder.

You pursed your lips. "Will you hate me if I laugh?"

"Not at all. On the contrary, I may like you less if you don't."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

June 2015

"You know, when I told you that you could come for me for basic medical aid, I feel like you didn't understand the meaning of basic."

"Is this too complicated for you?"

"No."

"Then am I unwelcomed?"

You pursed your lips at the redhead, who stared at you with a tiny upward quirk on her lip. "No," you sighed. "Just not sure why you'd want to see me for such serious wounds. There are other more experienced doctors."

You lift Natasha's shirt up, looking at the long gash on the side of her stomach. "We're gonna need to stitch this up. I've been doing research with Dr. Cho, and we have a new machine that can help with cell tissue generation. It would be faster than me manually stitching—"

"It's fine," Natasha declined. "I'd prefer if you manually did it."

You frown lightly at the fact but relent to the redhead's wishes. Another year passes, and Natasha's hair has changed again.

You worked silently on cleaning Natasha's wound, and she also declined the anesthetic. You focus on stitching up the wound with precision and care.

"I like to go to you for some things because your touch is gentle," Natasha said quietly, but it felt so loud in the silent room. "It makes me feel human when I can feel your touch."

You looked over at her face briefly, but Natasha wasn't looking at you. You don't take any deeper meaning into it. She's someone who's probably felt dehumanized most of her life. The machines that can heal her twice as fast would be fine for life-threatening injuries, but it probably all feels clinical.

You looked back down at the stitch. "Well, as long as you're a redhead, it's free of charge."

"Don't kid yourself, I would look perfect blonde."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

September 2016

"What are you doing here?" You hissed as you pulled Natasha in quickly, peering outside before shutting the door.

"Why? Am I unwelcomed now?" Natasha's tone sounded a little hurt, and you scan her body. She didn't seem to be bleeding anywhere that required immediate attention, but you did notice crusted blood at the edge of her nostrils.

"No, but you could get caught here," you shook your head at her. "They're looking for you and the rest of team cap everywhere."

Natasha shrugged. "I highly doubt Tony has your place under surveillance. We don't meet enough for anyone to consider looking for me through you."

You sighed, not sure what to feel about the statement. "I suppose. I don't work for Tony anymore, anyway."

Natasha's brows furrowed.

"Why?"

"I don't agree with what he's doing."

"So you're on Steve's side?"

"No, I think Steve was obstinate too. They're both stupid. Men are stupid."

Natasha laughed before wincing as she held her nose.

"What happened?" You brought her over to your couch before finding your first aid kit.

"I broke my nose," Natasha shrugged. "Can you believe breaking my nose saved millions of girls?"

"With you? Yes." You smirked as you tilted her head to look at the injury closer. "Lucky you. Looks like you don't need surgery. Do you always come here immediately after you save the world?"

"Yep."

"Couldn't even clean your nose before you did?"

"And deprive you of giving me care? I wouldn't dare."

You snorted, carefully cleaning the blood in and around her nose. It was silent again before Natasha spoke up.

"So, what happened with your research stuff now that Tony's not sponsoring your work?"

"Pepper is funding it, even though she knows I won't share anything with Stark Industries at the moment. She doesn't want me to sell my research or provide any data to other companies."

"Smart cookie."

"And a really hot blonde."

"This feels targeted. It's like you know I might dye my hair blonde soon."

"You're still a redhead; I have no idea what you mean. I like your hair, though. Braids look good on you."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

June 2018

Natasha showed up at your front step, holding her rib. There's a look of genuine relief at seeing you.

"You're still here," her voice sounds empty and hollow. "You're still here."

You pulled her inside gently. You're still in shock yourself. You were on a walk when people started disappearing left and right. The sheer panic on the streets was chaos as you were dialing Pepper frantically, almost crying when she picked up the phone. Then there were actual tears when you called other people in your life, and half of them didn't pick up...and they weren't going to.

"I'm here," you swallowed. "What happened to your rib?"

"I don't know." Natasha looked so lost. There was the look of failure and self-blame all over her face.

"Does it hurt?"

"I don't know."

You grasp her wrist, carefully moving her hand away from her rib before gently putting your fingertips against them. Your fingers trail up, down, and around.

Suddenly, Natasha broke into tears.

"Does it hurt?" You asked, panicked.

"You're still here," was all Natasha choked through her tears.

You didn't know what to do other than treat her wounds more gently than ever before while reassuring her you hadn't disappeared. You were one of the many people on this planet still here. And when she was better, she'd get the rest of them back.

It was a long and exhausting night, and Natasha fell asleep in your bed, and you made sure she was comfortable before leaving to sleep on the couch.

Natasha's hair has changed again.

"You look good blonde."

That was the last time you saw her.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha's hair has changed again. She's gone back to being a redhead with blonde tips. Her hair was a mess, barely brushed, and looked knotted.

The room was big and had padded walls, a singular bed in one corner, and a toilet and sink in another. There were lights in parts of the cell but also areas of darkness. It looked like a fucking prison cell.

You were looking through an unbreakable glass window, the middle holding up a microphone you assumed was linked to the speaker in the room.

Natasha stood in the middle of the room under the light in a hospital gown falling off her shoulder. Her hands were covered in scars, and her lips were so chapped, you were sure they'd split even if Natasha breathed the wrong way.

Natasha was only a few feet away from you, but it felt like she was a million miles away.

They let you see her alone under the guise of privacy as you saw her.

You felt you weren't supposed to see this—see her like this.

A sense of dread filled you at the blank expression on Natasha's face at what she'd gone through—what she was still going through.

She was a hero, and this was how they were treating her? This was someone who had fought wars repeatedly for this stupid country and the rest of the world, and they had her locked up like a mental ward patient from the 1600s.

You thought the government had gotten better. There were reforms and peace after people came back from the snap. This wasn't how they were supposed to treat someone who'd given up their life to ensure everyone got theirs.

It shouldn't matter that she came back; she had still given it up in the first place for them.

Natasha didn't even seem to recognize you through the glass as you stepped closer to the microphone. She looked past you as if she could tell the exit was somewhere behind you.

"Natasha?" You said into the mic, and it bellowed into the room.

Nothing.

"Nat?"

Natasha's eyes were listless. She was a broken, empty shell that seemed more like an animated corpse than actually being alive.

You swallowed, trying one more time. "You're still a redhead. Looks like it's still free of charge."

Natasha's eyes flickered this time, her head tilts towards you as she blinked with focus. It was just a spark, but it was something, and relief spreads through you.

"Not completely." You could barely hear her voice, but it was coarse. Cold.

There should've been a joke about some kind of discount, but Natasha didn't make it. You were speechless.

You didn't know what to say. Don't worry, you're trapped in here, but I'm going to help with the research, and hopefully, we'll get you out soon?

It was like prolonging a death sentence. You were horrified.

"Just—wait for me," the words flew out of your mouth so fast but you meant them with every ounce of your being. "You're gonna go home with me today."

Natasha's eyes sparked at the words but just as quick as you saw it, they died out, falling back into listlessness. She turned, stepping into a darkened corner away from your view and prying eyes of the cameras as she said, "No, I'm not."

You realized she's probably spent weeks watching Clint, Bruce, and Fury try to get her out unsuccessfully.

The resignation made something lurch in your throat and eyes sting with desperation and rage.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"So, we can send you a contract—"

"You're going to release her to my custody," you cut off some government official. He was old, wearing some kind of toupee that was slicked back to hide his balding head.

He looked at you in disbelief, almost laughing like you were some stupid, naive young girl.

He looks at Clint and Bruce, who are also just looking at you in shock.

"As I've told your friends and Nick Fury, this is out of their hands. The Accords are still intact as of right now, therefore—"

"I don't care about the Accords. You will release her into my care. I'm more than qualified and I have the resources to find the inane answers you're looking for while rehabilitating Agent Romanoff," you cut him off again, able to tell that it was irking him.

"That won't be necessary as you can see we have the resources here," the government official raised his brow at you.

"Your resources can't compete with Stark's resources."

It was no secret that Tony had left a very sizable fortune to you in his will, outside of everything he gave to Pepper and Morgan. And it was also no secret how close you were with the surviving Starks.

"Doctor," the government official sighed, obviously making it sound like you were a nuisance. "If you're not here to join our research team, I suggest you go on your way and remember the NDA you signed."

You glared at him even more. "I'm not leaving without Agent Romanoff. You will hand her over to me, or you will regret it."

"And exactly how will I regret it?" The government official looked smug, and you smirked back at him.

"I'm still in talks with the government regarding my research, and I will pull out and sell that information outside of this country as I'm free to do so. I know Dr. Cho is in talks between the US and South Korea about her nano-technology. One word from me, and America can fall behind on those advancements as well." You pulled out your cell phone in a threatening manner. "Pepper and I will pull out all of our money from the very same banks and company investments that you're supporting and make you watch as they collapse one after another."

"You'd ruin our entire economy—our country by doing so!" The official was red in the face. "You'd put your entire country into chaos?" He sneered at you.

"I will if you don't give me Agent Romanoff!" You sneered back at him. "It's not like you won't eventually get your research and answers if she's in my custody. It works in both our favor."

The official is staring at you, glaring and seething.

"I imagine your colleagues and superiors will pin the blame on you if this entire economy and country goes into ruin because if I have to do that, I will say that it's the government's fault. The NDA said I can't specifically talk about Natasha and this place, which I won't. But I'm sure some journalist will discover the truth and plaster all over the news what you're doing to a war hero," your voice was so vindictive; you're not sure if you've ever been so cold before.

"So," your voice was flat, devoid of emotion now. "What will it be?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It was agreed that Natasha would stay in a cabin that Pepper owned out in the countryside. You were to provide monthly updates on your research and rehabilitation progress. And while this was in headway, neither you nor Natasha was free to leave the country or this planet.

Clint initially wanted you and Natasha to stay with him and his family, but you declined. You pointed out that it would be hard for him and his family—his children, especially—to see Natasha like this.

Pepper had everything prepared while you gingerly collected Natasha.

"We're going home, Natasha," you said softly, shrugging off your jacket to wrap around her shoulders. But Natasha still didn't react, even if she let you take her hand and drag her out of the facility.

During the car ride, you mentally planned what you needed to do. Natasha needed to eat, take a bath, and rest.

"Have you eaten yet?" You asked the redhead, sitting stoically in the car, straight as a rod.

There was no answer. Natasha was peering out the windshield, her hands perfectly on both thighs. Clint looked worried as he looked at you.

"Natasha?" You gently placed her hand over hers. You could feel the bumps of the white scars over her hand. A part of you is too frightened to ask where she got these from.

Natasha looked down at your hand over hers before looking at you. Her eyes were so empty. Such a dull green like dying grass.

"Did you eat?"

Natasha nodded once before looking back outside the windshield.

You looked at Clint, trying to give him a reassuring smile, but deep down, you were afraid you had no idea what the fuck you were doing.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Pepper says you've been here before, but let me know if you need help finding anything," you brought her into the house where Natasha just stood, looking at nothing in particular.

"Um," you took a shaky breath. "How about a bath? I'm sure it'll be good to get the grime and stale air off of you."

Natasha didn't move on her own, so you began to lead her up the stairs to the bathroom.

It was a detached tub near the high window to get plenty of sunlight without anyone being able to peer in.

"I'll just get this started for you," you offered. Turning on the tap and pouring in a liquid that formed into bubbles. "Just make sure to check the temperature and adjust. Pepper says that sometimes that faucet can be a little finicky."

You turned to Natasha, who stood there, staring at the wall. She was unmoving, making no gesture if she was waiting for you to get out or to start undressing.

"Do you, um, need help?" You asked, but there was no answer.

Maybe it would wake her up a little once she was in the water.

"I'm—" you took a long breath in. "I'm gonna help you undress and get into the tub. If you get uncomfortable at any point, let me know and I can stop or do something else."

It wasn't like you've never seen a naked body before. You've seen plenty both in your sex life and field of work. You've even seen parts of Natasha's body when you've treated her. You just never thought you'd see Natasha fully naked.

You slid your jacket off her shoulders, letting out a puff of breath. You looked past her as you undid the string of her hospital gown. You looked up when you slid down her underwear before guiding her towards the tub. Your gentle guiding seemed to spark Natasha into mechanically climbing into it herself the rest of the way.

"Okay, cool. Um," you stuttered. "I'm sure you've been through a lot. Once you're done, we can get you into bed and if you're hungry later, I can make you something."

You were getting used to the lack of answers, but it didn't make your stomach drop any less. "Just let me know if you need anything."

You don't wait for a response this time, leaving without shutting the door fully. Down the hall, you leaned against the wall, swallowing harshly.

It feels like you brought a lifeless shell home. A part of you wonders if Natasha really did return or if this was just some lifeless doll.

You didn't want to think about it anymore, so you pushed yourself off the wall and into a bedroom with a suitcase and unzipped it open to grab some clothes.

When you were heading back, you heard the water still running and frowned.

"Natasha?" You called as you opened the door. The tub was overfilling, and you rushed to turn off the faucet, trying to not slip.

Natasha was sitting how you left her, staring ahead at the running water but not really looking at it.

You sighed, relieved that the bathroom floor was designed with wood and curved so that any water would naturally run towards a drain in the floor.

You go to check the temperature of the water and find that while it was initially fine when you turned it on, Natasha hadn't attempted to adjust it, and the finicky faucet ran nearly scalding water.

"Jesus, Natasha, you're going to hurt yourself," you yelped. You braced through it and stuck your hand in to drain the tub halfway.

You inwardly sighed, knowing you would have to help Natasha through the entire process. You began to refill the tub, monitoring the temperature and shut it off when it was filled adequately.

"I'm going to help wash you if that's okay," you muttered. "Just let me know if you prefer to do it yourself at any point."

You grabbed a nearby stool and sat on it before grabbing the loofa. You began with Natasha's shoulders and arms, trying to wash parts of her that were easy to access.

Natasha tensed as you washed her, so you tried to be more slow and careful.

"It's just me," you said softly, trying to reassure the redhead. "I've always taken care of you."

Natasha said nothing, but her shoulders relaxed slightly as you continued. There wasn't much dirt on her, but the stale air that was surrounding her began to fade away.

Her knees were propped up, folded to her chest, and you washed down her thighs and legs, trying to not think of anything too much as you did it. You tried not to think about the scars on her hands and feet.

Readjusting your stool, you went to sit behind her. You used a cup to wet Natasha's hair, trying to detangle some of it gently first. It was then you discovered a shaven spot in the back of her head, where there was a large scar. You realized that was where Natasha's head hit the ground when she—

You swallowed, trying to suppress the anger that they shaved her head to get a look at something so private.

You squeezed a considerable amount of shampoo in your hands and gently rubbed it into her scalp. Natasha tensed at first before your fingers massaging her scalp made her relax, her body leaning back against the tub and her head into your hands.

It was quiet as you did this. You shampooed her hair twice before slathering it up in conditioner and finally getting out the rest of the knots. You drained the tub, grabbing the shower head to rinse her down once more before you grabbed a towel and helped her out.

You helped put a bathrobe around her to help dry her as you didn't think you had the gall to fully dry every part of her by hand. Grabbing her clothes, you led her to her bedroom, setting her down on the bed.

Natasha sat silently as you towel-dried her hair with gentle hands. Her eyes fell closed as you began to blow dry it. Your soft fingers tousling her hair.

So delicate.

When it was dry, you set the blow dryer aside.

"Hm, your hair is pretty sensitive and might be for the next week. It might be better to braid it so it doesn't tangle and break when you're sleeping," you commented, mostly to yourself.

You took sections of her hair, delicately beginning to put her hair into a french braid.

"You've always had beautiful hair, red or blonde," you complimented Natasha as you finished. You moved to sit in front of her to check if you did okay from the front. There wasn't a response, but Natasha opened her eyes. They focused on you, looking at you as they traced over the features of your face. She was studying you apprehensively.

Natasha lifted a hand, slowly reaching up as her fingers brushed the side of your face. It felt bumpy from the scars, but it made the back of your throat burn.

"Am I really here?" Natasha mumbled as she then traced your cheek before your lips. "Am I really here with you?"

Your eyes were burning now. You couldn't even answer right away because you were afraid your lips would start trembling.

You lifted your hand, hesitating at first, before you held her hand against your face. "Yeah, you're really here."

The edges of Natasha's eyes began to brim with tears.

"When I jumped, I didn't die right away," Natasha whispered. "There was a feeling that something bad was going to happen. It didn't get me yet, but it was going to."

You couldn't help the tears that began to fall over the edge of your eyes when they overfilled.

"Something bad happened to me," Natasha's lip trembled. "It's still happening to me."

You gripped her hand tighter unintentionally, but it was like it grounded Natasha.

"I was scared," Natasha admitted. "I was scared that even if you came to me, it wouldn't go away."

Then, Natasha grabbed your hand and placed it against her cheek. It was still warm from the bath and blow dryer.

"But I can feel your touch," Natasha sighed like it was a relief. "It's gentle and I feel human. I'm scared I'm not really here."

"You are."

Your throat felt clogged with raw emotions, and you didn't know what to do with it. You've only seen Natasha a handful of times, and maybe it's because the more you do, the more emotionally charged you both feel.

"You're really here," you told Natasha, using your thumb to caress her cheek. You didn't know what else to say.

All you can do is offer her shelter under your touch.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #natasha romanov imagine #natasha romanov x reader #avengers imagine #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha x you #mm: my fics

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scarylarry376 · 2 months

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Tried something new? sorry it took so long omg Mutant Mayhem Leo high school burnout hc.. I have no regrets other than the fact this took me three days. Here's a comic I made for it

Side note! the first chapter of my fic is out! and trust me, I am NOT holding back the angst💗

You can read it here !

#artists on tumblr #digital art #young artist #artwork #fanart #cute art #mm tmnt #leo mm #tmnt mutant mayhem #mutant mayhem #leo angst #leonardo tmnt #leonardo #angst #illustration #my art #burnout #my fic

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stxrrydreamss · 3 months

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“Do you ever feel lonely?”

Warnings?: Fluff, angst, suggested breakup, and kissing

Summary: You are reninicising your first date after you two break up, thinking about how it came full circle.

This was inspired by my and ex and I’s first date. I thought you guys might like this as an x reader.

“Do you ever feel lonely?”

I quickly swivel my head towards the male beside me in my driveway. It was only the first date, but something made me feel so secure, and I was optimistic that he was clearly the one. He uttered words I wanted to hear my entire life and only thought happened in those little books and fanfiction I read online. I never once imagined that I could ever be in their shoes.

“Y-Yeah. More than I'd like to admit.” I respond quietly while adverting my attention to the bug crawling on the driveway below me.

“I can fix that.” He says quietly as his right arm snakes around my waist and pulls me into him. I could feel my heart beating inside my chest and my body heating up. This sensation I felt was new but very much welcomed. Everything about him and this date and his words were like a dream. I've never felt this way, and it was startling.

Minutes passed as he held me in his arms, both of us leaning against another vehicle in the driveway. We observed the stars above us with Star Shopping by Little Peep playing calmly in the background, murmuring about everything like we were old friends catching up.

“Can I kiss you?” He requests unexpectedly.

I was never the one to kiss someone on the first date, but everything felt so right, and I trusted him. He made me feel so safe and loved.

“Y-Yeah,” I reply nervously with a slight shake from all the intense feelings stirring in my chest. I closed my eyes in anticipation as he put a hand gently under my chin and tilted my head upwards before his lips gently met mine. There was no hunger, but passion felt through the kiss, and I went in for more. I knew then that I was smitten. When we break away, I smile all giddy and happy and embrace him with my face buried in his chest before I rest my head against it, looking up at him.

“You are so adorable, especially with those eyes.” He cracked up lovingly before kissing my forehead.

I was smitten, but, like all good things, It ended, and I was left feeling desolate once again, more than I ever had.

Eren, Armin, Jean, Senku, Tsukasa, Gen, Saeyoung, Zen, Yoosung, Saeran, Hawks, Hero!Dabi, maybe Aizawa. Izuku, Kirishima, Angel Dust

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sunflowersandsapphires · 7 months

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Renegade

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: A rough night lands Matt on your doorstep, bleeding and overstimulated. It’s your job to remind him of his strengths and bring him back from the brink of despair.

warnings: swearing, Matt’s depression, slight violence

a/n: This fic takes place in the Wake Up verse, but you do not need to have read all of that series for this one to make sense. @babygrlmurdock requested that I write a fic based on Taylor Swift’s Renegade so here is that! SO sorry for how long this took me, dear. I’ve had it written for over a month but I was waiting until Wake Up was all posted. I hope you like it!!

w/c: 2.8k

He’s not quite sure what triggered the fight or flight response, nor the spiral of doubt that followed. Maybe it was the stress of a week of cases with impenetrable prosecutors. Or maybe the way that the old man he’d nearly failed to save from a robbery gone wrong had used the same soap that Stick once used. Regardless, Matt was currently drowning in a series of flashbacks from his childhood.

The rough voice of his old mentor pierced his ears, even though he was alone as he hurdled from roof to roof towards his apartment. You coward. You sniveling weakling. Get back out there and fight like a man.

His breathing was rapid and his heart felt like it was going to fall out of his rib cage at any moment. Willing his brain to shut Stick up, he vaulted to the next building.

Apparently this was not what Stick’s ghost wanted him to do. Quit your fucking whining and turn around, kid. Or are you too fucking soft to fight bumbling idiots now? Worthless sack of shit.

As illogical as it would seem in the future, Matt could feel Stick gaining on him. Tears were pouring down his face as he begged the vision to leave him alone.

A cruel laugh rang in his mind. I see the Devil still can’t handle the truth. Isn’t justice all about people taking accountability, Matty? Are you so useless that you can’t even own up to your stupid mistakes?

Feeling a withered hand on his wrist, his steps faltered and he careened into a gravel pit on the roof before him. Scrambling away from the intangible figure, he screamed. “NO! No, get away. Get away, Stick!” His back collided with concrete as he reached the perimeter of the surface he’d crash landed on. Fists clenching painfully, his head darted around wildly as he tried to find any sign of the man.

The same mirthless laugh sounded again, booming like a pistol at an execution. Away from what, Matty? I’m part of you now. Your crazy ass will never be rid of me.

Hobbling to his feet, Matt took a breath and tried to regain any sense of direction, hurling his wobbly body towards his apartment once again.

His knees finally gave out when he reached the roof of his building. Stupid. Worthless. Crazy. Useless. The expanding list of insults circled his frazzled mind, adding to his frenzy. Scurrying inside and down the stairs, he ripped his face free of his mask. Panting, he sank back to the floor, trying to calm down. Yanking off his gloves and beginning to undo the suit, he was taunted once again.

You think a pansy like you will be able to save the people you claim to love? You couldn’t save your father. You couldn’t save Elektra. And, when the day comes, you won’t save her.

“Shut UP!” Matt roared, hurling his billy club in the direction of the voice. Glass shattered in the distance. Pressing his palms to the floor, he rested his head on the wood and tried to force the new wave of thoughts out of his mind—this time focused on the inevitability of your lifeless body in his arms. Fumbling with the suit's pockets, he grasped his burner phone for dear life. Shaking hands finding the buttons he needed, he held his breath as the phone rang once, twice.

After four rings, when his heart was seconds from breaking, you answered.

“Hey darling, you ok?” Your voice was hoarse with sleep and he cringed as he realized he’d woken you up at some sinful hour. Useless. You won’t save her.

“Love?” You tried again, hesitant to use his real name when you had no idea who was on the other line.

“Yah. I-I’m fine.” Matt stifled a sob poorly. “So—Sorry to wake you.”

“That’s alright, baby. You can wake me whenever you need to, remember?” A brief memory of you consenting to his late night requests for medical help flashed through his mind at your prompting. “Where are you? Are you hurt?”

“Not hurt. ‘M at home.” He answered shakily. “Need you, please.”

“O-ok! Yep, I am coming right now. Give me a minute to get there, I have to get a cab—“ You thought aloud, but Matt interrupted you.

“NO! No. It’s late. It’s not safe. I’ll come to you.” He cursed his lack of consideration for your safety. You won’t save her. Stupid.

“Are you sure, love? It’s not a problem!” He could hear your growing concern and it filled his eyes with tears again.

“I’m sure. Is that ok?”

“Of course that’s ok. Always, my darling. Did you want me to stay on the phone with you?” He sobbed as you parroted the question he always asked you when you called him.

“No. I’ll be there—be there soon.” He managed.

“Ok, love. Get here safe, please.”

After what felt like hours, a soft tapping on your window alerted you to your boyfriend’s whereabouts.

Rushing to help him through the small frame, Matt collapsed into your arms, not exactly giving you the relief you’d optimistically hoped for. But, he was alive.

“Hey, hey, I gotcha. You’re safe now, my love. Where are you hurt?”

Matt gave a pitiful shake of his head.

“You’re—you’re not hurt?” Your question was laced with your genuine confusion.

Matt shook his head again, tears pooling in his haunted eyes.

“Ok, well…let’s get you cleaned up and into comfier clothes.” You glanced at Matt’s rumpled Devil suit. He’d removed pieces but hadn’t changed out of it, apparently.

Maneuvering the vigilante into your bathroom, you frowned at him. “Shower?” You asked, but Matt whimpered so you quickly pivoted. “Ok love, no shower. That’s alright.”

Thinking for a moment, you gently set him down on the lid of the toilet and started the tap. Grabbing the softest cloth you could find, you soaked it in scalding water. Letting it cool for a moment, you began unclasping the body portion of his suit. Slipping the tight fabric off of his torso, you inspected the damage before getting to work.

Swiping the cloth as tenderly as you could across his skin, you started by cleaning his face. Streaks of dirt, sweat, and blood mingled on his porcelain skin, but they quickly vanished under your touch.

“If it’s too hot, or you want to stop, just give me a shove or something, ok?” You’d never seen Matt in such a state of distress and you wanted him to retain his power of choice as much as possible.

Moving down his pummeled body, you carefully cleaned his neck and torso. Gently turning him to clean his back, you bit back a gasp, only just now registering the scrapes and bruises along his side. It almost looked like road rash. What did you get yourself into, darling?

Taking extra caution to not aggravate the injured space, you cleaned every inch of skin currently exposed to you.

“Ok. The top half of you is clean. I’m going to treat the scrapes on your side then we can finish washing up. That ok?” You waited for his small nod before grabbing the neosporin from the first aid kit.

Once Matt was cleaned and his wounds were treated, you guided him to your bedroom where you provided him with a set of fresh clothes that he’d purposefully left there. Sliding the sleeves of the sweatshirt over his trembling fists, you let out a breath.

“All done, my darling. Did you want to get into bed?”

Matt nodded and you obediently began to tuck him in, sliding in next to him once he was settled. Stiffly, he repositioned himself so that he was laying across your chest, one ear over your heart. Finally, he gave a sigh, going limp across your torso.

“There’s my sweet boy.” You murmured, scratching at his scalp in the way he adored. “It’s just us. We’re both safe.”

The two of you were wrapped in silence for a bit before Matt’s demons reared their ugly heads once more.

Coward. Weakling. Fuck up. Matt whined, burrowing his face into your chest as fresh tears cascaded down his cheeks.

“Hey, what happened, Matty? Where does it hurt? What’s wrong?” Your hand stilled against his head and he felt the tears come faster. Grasping the hand in his hair, he begged.

“Please don’t stop.”

Immediately, you began running your fingers through his fluffy hair again. “Ok love. I won’t stop. What hurts?”

“Head. Too loud.”

“I’m being too loud?” Your voice softened before he could respond.

Shaking his head, he took a stuttering breath. “My thoughts. Too loud.”

It was starting to click for you. Matt had offhandedly mentioned that this could happen after his nighttime activities. Sometimes, he bottled up so much that it all came pouring out unexpectedly and overwhelmed him. You weren’t a stranger to the feeling, so you offered a way forward.

“I’m sorry they’re too loud, my love. Would you like to tell me what they’re saying?”

Matt shook his head miserably. “Can you—“ He stuttered, taking a deep breath before attempting to finish the thought. “Do you remember when we talked about me not being enough?”

You hummed in affirmation, waiting for him to continue.

“Can you…can you tell me again? That I’m…good?”

“Oh Matty, of course I can!” Your own eyes threatened to well up at his impossibly quiet request. Your poor boy was suffering so intensely and all he had needed was a few kind words?

You tugged him upwards just a touch so that he could bury his face in your neck. He’d told you once that feeling you talk while being wrapped in your scent was comforting. You were hoping that would be the case tonight.

“You are good, my beloved Matthew Michael Murdock. So so good. You amaze me every single day. You are so compassionate and you save lives every single day. Not just as the Devil, but as Matt Murdock the phenomenal defense attorney too.” You poked his chest and he nuzzled further into your neck, sniffling still.

“And you’re smart. The smartest person I’ve ever known, truly. The ways that you craft arguments and problem solve are unmatched. Like, a few weeks ago when you won that manslaughter case by showing that the woman had CPTSD. That was fucking incredible, darling, and you spared her children from losing their mother. Your intelligence is life changing, my love.”

Matt’s tears had slowed, but you could still feel his shaky breathing against your throat. You pressed a kiss to the bridge of his nose before continuing.

“You are so brave. In and out of the suit, honey. The number of times you’ve put yourself at risk to better the city is innumerable. You’ve faced threats that even the Avengers refused to take on. You’re a hero, Matt. A fantastic one.” Shifting so that you were face to face, you pressed your forehead to his.

“You are good and sweet and smart and brave and also the best boyfriend a girl could ever ask for. I’ve never met someone who loves so passionately. You make me feel like I’m a priority and your devotion is inspiring, love. I know you worry about splitting your time between me and your firm and the city but I promise you’re the best partner I’ve ever had. I love you so much, darling.”

Matt was trembling in your arms, fighting back more sobs. You pulled him impossibly closer, placing gentle kisses on his cheeks, jaw, and forehead. “I love you, Matthew Murdock. You are magnificent and I will tell you over and over until you believe it.”

“Thank you.” Matt murmured against your neck as he nestled into your embrace. “I’m sorry, I—“

You pressed a gentle kiss at the corner of his mouth to interrupt his self-loathing. “No need to thank me or apologize, my love. I’m here for you, good days and bad.”

Wrapped in your embrace, Matt felt the ghosts of his past failures dissipate. He let his tired eyes fall closed as you massaged his scalp, swallowing to ease the pain in his dry throat. You shifted underneath him and he moaned subconsciously, tightening his grip on your waist. Chuckling beneath him, you brushed a hand over the hair on his forehead.

“I know you want to be glued to my side until we both pass out, but you need water and painkillers. And, given what I know about your nightly routine, probably a snack?” Your reasonable tone did nothing to appease the Matt-shaped octopus latched onto you, who growled and held you closer.

“You’re a cute little devil, you know that? Did you want to stay here or come with me to the kitchen?” In lieu of a response, Matt shifted so that his leg was hooked over your hips, smiling at the resulting jolt of arousal from you. “Matthew, you know I adore this weighted blanket position, but you need water. At the bare fucking minimum. Drink a glass or two for me and I’ll let you cuddle me for hours.” With another low growl, Matt rolled off of you, giving you the opportunity to slide off of the bed. Taking his hand, you carefully pulled him to the kitchen.

Filling a glass with cool water you handed him a couple of painkillers and narrowed your eyes, “Drink all of that, please. I see your stage sips, you goon.” Matt’s lips quirked up and he dutifully switched to actually drinking the water.

Winding yourself around his waist, you nuzzled into his cheek with a quick kiss. “Thank you. Are you hungry at all?” Matt pondered for a moment before giving a shrug so you handed him a granola bar, taking the now empty glass from him. With your arm still hooked around his waist, you drew soft patterns on his hip while he ate. Gracefully tossing the wrapper into the trash, Matt pulled you into an unyielding embrace.

“I love you.” He whispered into your hair. You squeezed your arms around his waist.

“I love you too. Now let’s get some sleep or I’ll be unbearable tomorrow.” Matt huffed a laugh and clasped your hand firmly as you padded back into the bedroom.

Drawing in a breath, Matt shuddered awake as the lack of your warmth finally became too much for his subconscious to bear. Whining involuntarily, he let his eyelids slide open as he searched for your presence. Thankfully, it didn’t take more than a moment for him to realize that you were in the kitchen. Your steady heartbeat was surrounded by the soft scraping of a whisk and the smell of brown sugar.

Scrubbing at his irritated eyes, he sighed, debating his next move. While he always craved your touch, he really was not ready to start his day yet. As if you had his superhuman senses, you set down whatever you were cooking in the kitchen and retreated to the sanctuary of his room. He heard your breath hitch as your eyes landed on him and it squeezed his heart in a way he was not overly familiar with.

“Mornin’ sleepyhead. Feeling ok?” Your voice was soft as you sat on the mattress inches from his hip. Hand sliding into his hair, you leaned back onto the pillows gazing at his pretty face.

Submitting to your hair petting happily, Matt made a noise akin to a purr. Giggling, you pressed closer, kneading at his scalp with a bit more vigor. “Mmm feeling fine, I guess.” His voice was rough from his breakdown the night before, forcing him to clear his throat before continuing. “Head hurts a bit.”

Clucking in sympathetic disapproval, you lessened the pressure you were applying to his crown. “I’ll grab you some water and Advil. I was about to make some pancakes, would you like a plate?” Matt nodded, burying himself in your chest and placing sweet kisses along your collarbone.

“If I have time. I should probably get dressed. I’m guessing it’s about time for us to leave?”

Pressing a kiss to his temple, you shifted uneasily. “About that…I may have called Foggy and asked if you could have a day off? Before you get upset, I told him that I had a bad week and wanted you to stay with me today.”

Matt felt the pressure in his chest lift and he smiled. “I’m not upset, sweetness. Do you have the day off too?”

You nodded against his hair, heart still jogging with anxiety about his reaction. Matt shifted so that his forehead could fall against yours. Pressing a kiss to your nose, he cupped your cheek with his hand. “Thank you, angel. I’d be honored to spend the day with you. Since you need me so much.” He pinched your side and you squealed.

The rest of the morning flowed by slowly, complete with stacks of incredible pancakes and syrupy kisses. Matt’s intrusive thought had quieted, for now, replaced with your beautiful laugh and steady pulse.

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