Egoist {Moira X Reader}

Egoist {Moira X Reader}

You knew who she was, what she was. Even in the black suit with the purple tie and under those gloves, the long nails of her hand were always visible, the way her right hand was thinner, veiny while her other one looked healthy, her face plate always adorning her left eye, even when not working. When she left to work, you knew where she was going, what she was doing. But when she looked at you, the way she held you, you just couldn't let her go. You loved her. But maybe, she did not.

It was unusual for her to have enough time to accompany you to one of your outings with co-workers, like on holidays, bit you were glad that today, this random Friday evening she did have time. Usually she worked from early to evening, always looking to find the key to life. And yet, she would always come home to you, she would lay down in your bed and talk with you if you were awake or tucking herself into your side when you weren't. You were lucky if you saw her everyday in a week, but you didn't mind too much, what she was doing was important, no matter how you disliked her cruel ways of researching.

It was a fromal event in a restaurant, a celebration of one of your co-workers birthday. Moira hadn't stalled around much to get read, she simply opened the closet and pulled out her neatly stored black suit and a purple tie. You watched as she got dressed, her nails digging into the expensive, sensitive fabric, somewhow avoiding it getting ripped. She looked stunning, like an absolute professional - as if she was a chef of a very high ranking firm. She wasn't, she was a researcher, a fighter, a member of Blackwatch, but no one else needed to know. Today, Moira was simply a scientist - and your wife. She had tried to cover her damaged hand with gloves, even tried cutting her nails, but they didn't want to be cut, so she ended up with broken gloves, nails raking out. Hopefully no one would mind her weird appearances.

They did.

Of course they did.

They were confused and you let Moira explain - some sort of terminal generic illness she got by being exposed to too many Experiments and fumes. A lie, of course. But they believed it. That was all that mattered. After you came home that night, she unbuttoned her blouse and opened her tie, letter Ng them dangle aroung her ill frame and falling into one of the chairs, exhausted from this day full of work and the meeting. You had smiled at her, tried to help you relax, but with a quick flick of her now ungloved hand and a curt "No" you retreated to bed, leaving her alone.

You don't think she joined you that night. Maybe she did, but you were definitely not in your arms. She was just tired, nothing else. It was fine, after all, she was a hard working woman.

You stood up early next morning, making her breakfast in bed and even making her lunch to bring to work with her, one that she'd probably forget to eat again. Her mood was better when she woke up, coffee and food ready, she thanked you, gave you kiss and left no food on her plate and no coffee to cool.

You didn't register when she started to change up a bit, when she would watch you closely, not with love, like she had before, but with curiosity. Maybe it was after you had been diagnosed, doomed to live only a few months. Maybe it was when she made you the proposal.

"I can fix you. I can fix you, like I fixed myself, like I fixed all of them"

Maybe it was after you had said yes, or when she started to expirment on you. You were unsure. But the experiments hurt, even though she held your hand, held you close in her arms when you cried, nestled safe on her lap or even when she kissed your tears away, her low voice in your ear.

"You are doing so well, Love. Just a it more, okay? Stay strong for me"

Maybe you should have declined, died with her love still intact for you, before you switched from lover to experiment in her eyes. Maybe it would have avoided this outcome. You were cured, yes. But the pain was unbearable. No matter what you did, there was a surge of huge pain following your movements. After a while you got better at hiding it, accepting it. And yet, no matter what you did, even after it felt like simply thinking was painful, nothing could describe the empty hole in your chest, when you saw her pack her things.

"Where are you going, Honey? Is everything alright?" She had looked at you, her red eye piercing your soul

"Of course, Love. Everything is just fine. Blackwatch just needs me to leave for a mission, that's why I'm packing a few things"

"Why?"

"They need me, that's all. I am the only one able to tend to my fallen comrades, after all-"

"No. Why are you lying?"

She looked at you then, turning around to face you and her cold expression made you shiver. That wasn't your Moira. This was Blackwatchs' Moira. Talon Moira. Crazy-Scientist-Moira. Where did she leave to, you wondered.

"I wanted to safe you from the truth. You are awfully sensitive recently. An unexpected result of the Experiments, I believe. But it seems you have unfortunately kept your attention to detail."

You looked at her, confused. "Sensitive? I mean, you have barely talked with me, these past few weeks, you and I, we're married! We should talk a lot, sleep in the same bed! You loved me before all this and that has changed! I just want us to be like back then again. Wher eyou go to work, come home and we sleep, Where we talk in bed and I get to enjoy your company, your arms. You have been distancing yourself from me, and I don't know what to do, I'm devastated! Clueless! Not sensitive!"

Her expression fell for a moment, just a glimpse pat's that cold exterior revealing pity. "It's your fault you believed you were worth anything to me, actually. You were simply entertainment for me, nothing more." Moira turned around, grabbing her suitcase. You tried to stop her, tears falling onto the floor. "No, you don't get to leave me like this! You don't get to walk away from me with all the damage you just caused! I love you! How can you say you never loved me, when you married me?!"

"Like I said. It's your fault. I never wanted to make that impression" She pries your hand away from her arm with her long nails and opened the door while you followed her close behind, words falling out of your mouth to stop her, none of them sinking into either of you. She turned around one last time, before opening the door. "I suppose I should apologize. But you have no use for me anymore. The experiments conducted on you have brought no new revelations and your body is already at it's limit. So impossibly weak, no wonder you wouldn't be able to make it into any of our Organisations."

She handed you the key to the house.

"I never told you I was a good person. You convinced yourself I was. I told you from the very beginning what I was. I've always been an Egoist.'

The door slammed shut as you fell to the floor, crumbling.

Engravings {Peruh X Reader}

After getting your first Tattoo, your boyfriend Peruh helps you through the pain and with care, torturing you with massaging the tattoo cream into your skin, your pained gasps ringing out, your body jolting forwards, trying to explain the way it hurt, when he touched your painted wound.

You had heard many horror stories about how painful a tattoo would be, but the hours you sat there getting your tattoo were mildly uncomfortable. It wasn't as bad as everyone had made it out to be, at the start you had nearly fallen asleep multiple times because it had been so relaxing. Your Boyfriend Peruh had held your hand and reassured you. He had laughed with you and commented on the process of the tattoo whenever you needed it. He one time went up to get some drinks and snacks for everyone in the room.

The end undoubtedly hurt the most. There just wer certain spots that hurt immensely, Peruhs' hand nearly being crushed by your sheer force of pain. It was all good, however. No tears were shed, the show was finished, and so was Our tattoo - a big hawk flying into space adorned your back now, a tad bit of blood seeping out very slowly, while the tattoo shined with the clear fluids to close the wound. You had thanked the artist and returned home after getting some clear foil over your tattoo, as to not stain your clothes. He drove you home.

The worst part wasn't the pain, it was not being able to shower for a solid two weeks. Every morning your boyfriend took the shower head, making sure the water wasn't too hot or cold, and washed the tattoo off with water, before patting it dry. You hung around without a shirt or bra in your house to let the tattoo air-dry and heal better and faster. You had no idea if it actually worked that way, but it had been suggested. Peruh was kind enough to even treat it with the treatment salve you had bought from the shop.

When he told you your tattoo was flaking off you first started to panic. ou had heard about tattoos falling off, but never about flaking off - had you down something wrong, or had the artist? Where you gonna end up with a nasty scar? He had been quick to shut it down, explaining it was simply flaking, and that the ink wasn't actually leaving your body. You ended up googling to to make sure and were thankful that everything healed correctly.

When it started to itch and you couldn't bare it, he simply placed his hands on the spot where it did, effectively ending the itching most of the time. He was a wonderful help and you were grateful. He even made progress pictures of the healing tattoo and updated you on ever single thing happening.

After two weeks were over there was one thing on your list, that was first - shower. Shower with the nearly scorching water running over your skin and using shampoo and conditioner and body wash without having to bend over the tub or using a washcloth, as to not get any chemicals inside your tattoo. Peruh joined you in the bathroom, wanting to see the fully healed tattoo. The second you got out, he still helped you dry off, his hand wandering to softly go over the painted picture, engraved in your skin forever.

"Such a beautiful picture on such a strong person. I am so grateful, so honoured you allow me to call you mine" "As I call you mine, my beautiful, handsome, gentle and loving partner. Thank you so much"

He had blushed at the compliment and bashfully exclaimed how he loved you until every star in teh universe would die. He could be a bit dramatic, but it was always a pleasure to hear such words. A storm of light, loving kisses were exchanged and you were left happy in the bathroom as he went to make dinner, a wonderful engraving on your back, always reminding you about him and the way he loved you.

"I love you too, Peruh. Even if all the stars in this universe died, I would love you still, until tmevery star in every universe died and nothing exists anymore"

Return to me (Alexander Anderson x AFAB!Reader)

You know Alexander from the Library you worked at - when he one day stands in front of your day at the end of the year 1999, you can not deny him shelter. And now, you definitely didn't regret it

NSFW below

NSFW cut: ᕙ⁠[⁠･⁠۝･⁠]⁠ᕗ

Not Beta Read, we die like {redacted}

You never thought you'd see him again, but there he was, standing right in front of you was the tall, blonde priest with green eyes that had a way to obvious scar on his cheek, asking you if you had a place for him to stay for some time. Your heart was still somewhat broken by being rejected by said man, that fateful day where you had decided to accept he would reject you and went and got it for yourself, thinking you might be able to get over it, your love for that man.

Needless to say, you didn't. You never did and didn't think you ever would. But everytime he came into the library, asking you for a book you couldn't help but falling for him. And fall you did, landing hard in the reality that he was a priest, the he was to not mingle in relationships with others, his only devotion being god and the preachings of the bible. You had started to read the books that he did, finding most to be about the occult, werewolves, vampires, witches, wendigos... And how to kill them. Books that were written like research, obviously being a piece of someone's fantasy.

But then he would come in and get children's books, about the holy Mary, about birds and trains and flowers, about the way the sun would rise and laugh, but how the clouds would always cry. When you found out he was living in an orphanage, you wanted to go so badly, it wasn't far, but it wouldn't be fair. So the next time he had come by, you had asked him out for a stroll - not a date, just to get to know him, to become friends. His positive response had surprised you.

So why, after all that time of him caring, in the end rejecting and going seperate ways, was he standing in front of you, on this winter afternoon in 1999? And where was his priest robe? He had his usual coat on, but only a thin shirt and jeans, so you didn't waste time, letting him into your house. "Alexander? What are you doing here?" "I quit. And I- You said you'd always be there when I need something, and right now, I don't have a home. Can I stay? Only until I find something for myself, of course." You turned the thought over in your head. The Basement was free, you'd only have to clean it up, maybe stash everything in your garage. "God, sit down first. Coffee, Tea or Hot Chocolate?"

Sitting down with him, each sipping on their own tea, you finally spoke up. "I really should question how you figured out where I live, but the reason you quit interests me more." He sipped on his tea. "There have been... Some mindest differences recently. Between me and the church. While I am incredibly sad to leave behind the children, I couldn't accept staying there. Not with the recent happenings in London." "London? What does the Church have anything to do with the destruction of London?" He just smiled. You never got an answer. But you guessed it was more involvement then what the newspapers told you.

Sometimes, the ex-priest talked to you about an old friend, one, who vanished back in London. You didn't know if he was dead or just disappeared in the rubble, or if it was... A different kind of friend. You looked after him a lot of the time, driving him back and forth from monestary to your home so you could get all his belongings. You even had to drive to the Vatican - Who had an own room in the Vatican?! It had taken months for him to settle comfortably in the basement, old bookshelves and boxes and dressers functioning as his only storage. You bought him a new bed, so he could at least afford a good rest - he promised to repay you, but you shook it off. It was a cheap one anyways.

You helped him find work in the city, helped him with a driver's licence and, in the end, you both scrapped your money together to get him a car. It was second-hand, fairly cheap compared to the other cars on the market, small and old-school. But he was happy with it, and so were you. After a good 3 months you finally convinced him to buy new clothes, instead of just opting for your old father's ones, it was exciting finally seeing the fashion taste of a man previously running around only in his religious tell-tale robe with the crosses.

He picked out a few checkered ones, others had random prints on it. You got him to buy a muscle shirt (mainly for your own entertainment, but also because it got really hot during summertime) and some pullovers for winter - one Pullover was relatively thin and black, covering his neck from the cold winds that would come in 6 more months. A lot of people had stared at you - maybe it was the fact you were just average size and he was - well - over 2 meters tall, maybe they held you for a couple or found him handsome. But maybe, it was because of his scar. You never knew for certain how he got it.

You saw him enter the library on a fairly quiet day, he hadn't visited for weeks, probably on one of his trips to foreign countries. He didn't take long to get to the Check-out and you were snooker to see his face. His left cheek had a big white patch on it - a compress. There was a thin line in the middle with red specks of blood. When you asked him what had happened, he had dismissed you, saying it had been an accident he didn't want to talk about. The next time, you saw the wound. It was three scratches all neatly lined up, like claw marks. It was then you had your first suspicion, the middle one deeper then the other two, the skin around it a deep purple.

After that visit, he came in again, this time, the upper and lower scratch were healed completely, the middle one still deep and purple, as if it couldn't heal. That's when you knew. You knew what he had been doing, why he had been away, why he had been injured. You had asked him to come to the staff bathroom, getting an idea. You had confronted him, he had brushed it off, yet still he let you cut around the edges, widening the wound and, effectively, overwriting the original one. The wound had healed in a few weeks, only leaving behind the nasty scar on his cheek.

In month 6 of him staying with you, he was finally able to afford his own Appartment so he started scouting. You helped him, of course, You taught him how to use the library computers, so he could scout more effectively, he actually understood it really fast. A smart man, he was. The landline phone, he had figured out within a few weeks of you introducing it to him and he called the monestary every weekend. You liked to listen. He would be a good father, you decided, when you heard him talk with the kids, reassuring them he didn't forget them and that he would stop by from time to time.

He held his word, always arriving to any of their birthdays with a personalized gift. You were happy to be able to accompany him. Some of the nuns were a bit suspicious first, thinking you might have taken advantage of Alexander, but they were quick to trust you and your words - you did love him, but you'd never try to take advantage of him - even though that wasn't something that they needed to know.

Alexander had found the Appartment he wanted to live in during month 8. He was happy, you were not. You offered him to stay for longer, so that he could pay the bills as well - which was something he had totally forgotten about. He lost the Appartment and you felt guilty.

But when winter rolled around again, seeing him in that long-sleeve neck Pullover, paired with thick, dark grey jeans with a fashionable belt and a silver cross necklace, you nearly forgot to breathe, or that you had been feeling guilty. After the incident with the Appartment, things had started to change. You noticed he looked at you fondly, for longer than normal, he smiled whenever you did something - if it was a greeting, rambling, making food - you had noticed he was a way better cook and picked up habits of you - humming along to your music or just watching a show. It seemed weird. Whenever asked, he would just say that he was happy you had been the one to take him in.

On his birthday, you had taken him out to a more expensive restaurant, treating him to something you called "culture cruise". You introduced him to proper Italian traditions that he had missed out on in the orphanage, traditional food that wasn't served there, you showed him a cinema and he was blown away by the movie, not being able to believe it. He had missed out on so much, leading such a humble, yet dangerous, life, that you were more than adamant about giving him a life he deserves. A life full of care, gratefulness, and, if possible, love.

He had liked his birthday, even though, in the end, he admitted, that it would have been enough to spent it with you - but that he was thankful you wanted to show him your world. You asked him to show you his, and, even though he dismissed it now, he would show you later on. After getting home, there was something weird. Between you two, of course, not in your house. You both wanted to retiree for the night, but again, both of you lingered in the living room near the stairs up to your room and down to his. "I'm glad you liked today, I was a bit worried", you admitted out of the blue. He scratched his neck, his muscles showing under the thin pullover. You questioned how he wasn't cold.

He was quiet a bit, before speaking up. "I... I loved this glimpse into your world. It was educating and it meant a lot to you, so I.. You mean a lot to me and so does your world. So I thank you dearly for taking me along, sunshine." You smiled again, wider this time, liking the nickname maybe a little too much. After that it took a few more moments of silence, for both of you to say your goodbyes and go to sleep. You, however, were unable to, thinking about the way he was treating you, how much he cared about you and your world. He really was a gentleman, if you were sure about him feeling similarly about you, the way you felt about him, then you would be glad to, maybe, someday, call him your husband.

Your first kiss came the next day. It wasn't your first overall, but it was the first with him. Maybe it had been the music and jokefully romantically made dinner - you genuinely just wanted to recreate the ambiance of the restaurant, there was never an intention to make it feel so appealing. But joking around with him, about some of the older, black and white movies and the more recent coloured ones, him joking with you there was a moment of you playfully leaning into his side, lamenting over something random, like the candles, while he calmly, in an equal joking matter grabbed your arm softly. You shot up to kiss him on the cheek, something he, apparently, also felt like doing.

It had taken not even a second, before you pulled back, apologizing profusely, you face flushed - as was his. He smiled, saying it was no matter. You sat down to eat, face fixed in the food. He stood there for a moment longer, before he asked, bashfully: "Would you like to do it again?" You looked up, his gaze locked onto you, as if he felt no shame. Why would he, you thought. It was a mistake, nothing more. But why did he offer? Did he.. were your suspicions really correct? He didn't move, standing there. The offer he had just given you hang heavy in the air, debating whether to act on it or not.

You chair creaked when you pushed it back a bit. "Would you like to do it again?" Alexander's face turned a deeper red than before. He was quiet, before admitting a small "yes". It was then that you stood up and closed in on him.

"Then, I would like one as well"

The second kiss was really worth it. It was long, gentle and loving. It felt warm, comforting - it felt good. On a completely unrelated note, the food was delicious as well. You just loved eating this dish - especially with Alexander in front of you, the kiss and it's implications - even though it was less of an implication and more of a flashy Broadway Sign, after all, a kiss - no, technically two - seemed like a very exclusive thing that two people wouldn't do if they just were friends, unprompted by any dare.

Long story short, after dinner, there was a deep talk and you both decided to try. And try you did. It worked out fine, the only thing that really changed was the few kisses, the cuddle-sessions and the trips - now dates - to town. It wasn't really a secret, but it also wasn't really public. It's that weird in between-thing, where you knew, but you just weren't quite ready to tell everyone - but showing wasn't really a problem. Alexander had the habit to keep you close - it was a habit he had picked up one or two months after being at your home, but now, he just seemed to be more open about it, actively seeking you out. This day, it had been particularly bad and after getting home, you had asked him about it. He seemed taken aback.

"I'm Sorry if I overstepped. I didn't mean to, I'll keep it in mind next time"

You sighed. "No, no, Alex, that's not- that's not what I meant. I was simply curious on why you did it, I apologize if it came over wrong"

Alexander looked at you for a few seconds, contemplating if he should tell you. Then: "I am scared"

You could tell he wasa bit uncomfortable, but you couldn't just leave it here. You took him by the hand, setting him down on the couch and sitting next to him, your own hand in his. "If you want to, you can tell me. I'm here for you." Alexander seemed torn, it was the first time you had seen him this conflicted, this... This pained.

"London was last year.", He started and stopped right after. It clicked into place for you, but you wanted him to go on. You squeezed his hand reassuringly, lightly stroking your thumb over his hand in yours, a smile on your lips, as you silently told him to take his time. "It was... I mean you read about it, of course, but... I was there. It was horrible and I- I lost more friends than just one." Oh, that was something you actually hadn't thought about, but it made sense. "One was my student. Her name was Yumiko and she was great. Heinkel nearly lost their life as well - a lot of the division died, nearly all, even though I told them to stay back. I lost so many friends, when I tried to save them all"

He took his hand away then, covering his eyes with his hands and bending forward, hiding his face. Your smile dropped. He didn't loose one person, he didn't loose a few. He lost everyone. You got down on your knees, sliding between his legs and taking his hands away gently. He wasn't crying, not yet anyways - but his eyes were shining bright with the promise of salty water spilling over any second. "Were you scared to loose me too?" He nooded then. You got up from this position, pulling him into a hug. " You won't, Alexander. That life is beyond you now, it's behind us both. We are here together, we are here, Alex. We are alive." You pressed his hand to you heart. "We are both alive."

That day was one you never forgot. Alexander Anderson, previously a priest and in charge of an orphanage, as well as something with the occult, member of a division you had never heard of, was traumatized. He had been vulnerable with you, around you. He had shared his pain and you had accepted it, accepted him and all the implications and complications that came with it. How could he ever hope to find someone better? He didn't, and he never would, because you, he was convinced, were the best choice he could ever make.

When one year had run by, you realized he had never slept in the same bed as you. Not even when one of you fell asleep on the couch, he would always be gone and in bed instead. So today, you tried to get him to sleep with you - not in a sexual sense, by God, only sleeping next to each other, maybe (hopefully) cuddling. That was the day you realized no one had cover taught this man anything about relationships or explained That, when the bible quoted "thou shall not lie with a woman, if thy art not married", or whatever the actual quote said, it didn't mean sleeping in the same bed, but sleeping together.

So that was a conversation you needed to have, and, in retrospect, it was fairly funny, but back then, it was undeniably weird to be the one to give a grown man, which you were together with, sex education. That didn't seem like your job, but now you stood here, and he stood there, and that was the situation you were in. "So uh, the Bible doesn't really mean sleep, Alexander. It means sex." He had heard that word uttered in disgust and disdain by the nuns that had raised him, heard more about this being an act of either love or lust between a man and a woman. He never knew that was what the line meant, nor did he know what sex actually was.

So he disclosed it all to you. You shook your head, in denial that any institute for raising and educating children would stop at sex and don't even mention it to them. What if they would have gone and discovered it on their own, maybe way too young or having to deal with the consequences alone? "Well, traditionally speaking, in most cultures and religions sex is between a man and a woman, but not exclusive. Men can do it with men and women with women. In a traditional sense it's something very intimate, something you do with one you trust fully. Someone you love, if we keep it extremely Christian."

Alexander nodded, seemingly soaking up everything you were saying. "So uhm, do you know the difference between make and female anatomy" "I raised children" point taken, stupid question. "Okay so, Sex is when you put your uh-" god this was more embarrassing than showing and recommending someone erotica and explaining in detail how exactly it was interesting. "So you put your penis into the vagina of the woman and just... Go." "Just go?" "Just... Just go, yes." "How does it work between the others?" Oh lord, have mercy. "So between a man and a man, it just goes in the ass, or they get themselves off with hands or mouths, which is similar in that case with women. There are also specific toys that help."

Alexander seemed a bit puzzled, but the red taint on his cheeks made you realize, he was also embarrassed about this, even though you were sure you were way more red - your head was steaming and cooking your brain. At least that's what it felt like. "But what do you mean with just go?" You just wanted for a portal to hell to open up. At this point, burning you skin off in an eternal hellfire seemed more acceptable than this. "Just go. Like... In and out" "Like when you need to fill a tire of a bike with air?" "Yes. Absolutely. Like a piston, in some ways. Obviously that's not all there is to it, but that is essentially how it works. Have you never tried to uhm- do it yourself?"

You had never seen him so flustered. "No! That was forbidden, seen as a sin!" "Hey, there's genuinely nothing wrong with it. It's actually quite healthy. You're not part of the Church anymore, you don't need to abide to their beliefs." He seemed to stop. Like he was a computer that just shut down because you opened three tabs on the browser and caused a Microsoft error. He had never thought about that before, you realized. It's just been a year away from the church, the place that raised him, homed him, gave him an occupation - of course everything was still indoctrinated in him. How could you expect something else?

You went to bed seperately.

The next day was still a bit awkward, but by the second day everything returned to normal. He even decided to actually do sleep in your bed with you - only after about a month of consideration. You were happy, however. If he was comfortable, then you were too. Alexander had become the thing you thought your life revolved around. When you went out to go shopping, you immediately looked if you could bring him something from your trip. When you were cooking, you thought about how he would cook it, or how he would like it. And when you were cuddling, you thought about the way he was warm, that he was alive, alive with you. Days passed like this, weeks, months even.

"Sunshine?" You hummed positively, looking up from your book. He had been reading one of his own, a recommendation from you. "I was curious." You hummed again, putting your mark in you book and closing it. "I don't know if it's an approprita question." "Shoot your shot, dear." He seemed to think for a second. "I have been thinking about something you said." You grew a bit impatient. "When?" "I don't know, a few months ago. You said I wasn't part of the church anymore and thus do not need to abide their rules" "Dear, whatever you want to ask, just ask. I won't crucify you. And the church won't either."

He closed his book as well, scratching his beard stubble. "Maybe we could try it out?" Before you could ask what he meant, he elaborated, realizing he hadn't said what. "Sex, I mean. Apologies if I'm overstepping-" You nearly choked on your own spit. What. The. Hell. What had you done to this man? He had been so shy, so embarrassed about it, and now, he sat there in front of you, asking you such a question. You mean, damn. If that isn't some quick character development. If you were serious though, you had thought about it as well. Of course, you didn't want to bring it up, as not to pressure him. So this, was perfect.

"Sure, let's go." He was taken aback slightly by the way you stood up, starting to walk to the stairs. "Why go?" "To the bedroom, dear. Yours or mine?" He stood up as well, stopping next to you. "Yours." You sat him down on the bed. "I suppose you don't know more than I told you?" He shook his head. "Don't worry, I will take the lead." "You did this before?" "Yeah, but never like this." "In charge?" "That. And with someone I love."

ᕙ⁠[⁠･⁠۝･⁠]⁠ᕗ

You took his hands and let them rest on your waist, as you settled on his lap, going for a kiss. You pushed yourself close, shamelessly resting on his crotch. You pulled away, taking one of his big, calloused hands and sliding it up, to rest next to your breast. "You can touch me, you know." He seemed hesitant, but you went in for another kiss, keeping his mouth open this time, your tongue brushing his, animating him to participation. He was eager to follow your lead. His hand slipped to your back instead, holding you close. You pushed back again, leaving him some room.

Your thumb pressed on his scar, the slightly elevated, jagged surface soft and yet hard beneath your fingers. You pushed your hand under his jaw, pushing his head back and starting to kiss along his neck, his throat releasing a loud, shuddering breath, as the hand that had pushed his head back slowly trailed down his throat, cold fingers ghosting over the warm skin, fingers barely touching him. Your other hand guided his hand on your breast, squishing it in his large hand. His other hand, still on your waist, gripped you harshly, it brought a slightly hurtful feeling up in you, but it made you feel secure.

You pulled back, Alexander finally finding the courage to explore your body, his head snapping back almost immediately, eyes fixating on yours. His gorgeous green eyes glowing behind his glasses. You slowly reached up, but he stopped you before you could take them off. "No. I don't-" "Okay" and just like that he was back to roaming your body, enjoying as your hands slid over his. A few moments later you sat up on your knees, pulling off your shirt. Alexander seemed a bit flustered at first, but got over it fairly quickly.

You kissed him again, your body shifting a bit, pressing close again, his hand trapped between you bodies, as he leaned back, other hand supporting his weight. You stood up, pulling him with you as well. You discarded all of your clothes, watching him do the same. It was mesmerizing how a small bit of his torso showed when he lifted his arms up, pulling his own shirt over his head. The muscles in his arms flexed slightly, his shirt falling to the ground next to him. Scars were all over his body, the cross of the silver nacklace resting where his collarbone was, a cross tattooed onto his skin with the words "yes jesus" in it. You recalled seeing said design on his gloves when he was still a priest. His trousers were the next to go it was the first time Alexander's head was actually lower than yours.

He sat down on the bed again, back resting against the headboard. You did the same you did before - sitting in his lap. Just, this time, you could feel whenever the muscles in his leg twitched when you bit down or kissed or sucked in a particular way, felt how he tensed and relaxed when you shifted your body. It was captivating, the expression he made. His eyes were on you, the entire time he was focused on you, nothing else. His hands never left you, pulling you close. He was breathing loud, not quite panting, but close enough. And then, when you actually felt him, you realized a grave mistake. You couldn't show him, because you didn't expect this and had no condoms, and no pill, and he definitely had neither either.

"Alex, dear" he hummed. "We can't do it quite the way you want it yet, but we can do it differently." Before he could ask why, you continued. "We don't have protection. I'll go out and buy some, but not right now. I can show you other ways." The Catholic was silent, before a breathless "yes" left his lips. You kissed him again, sucking on his lower lip, before pulling back and spitting in your hand. "It's not the best, sorry" he wanted to reply, but when your hand ghosted over the head of his cock, before you slick hand closed around it pushed him into a whole new sensation. It was weird, to be touched there by someone else. But not unwelcome.

He grasped at your hips, pushing you down and towards him a bit, your entrance brushing his slightly elevated thigh. He pulled you into another kiss, breaths mixing with each other as both of you tried to breathe through your noses, Oxygen soon running out despite your best efforts. You pushed back a bit, getting into a more comfortable position. Your hand gabbed him a bit harder, a loud moan being your response. You slowly started pumping up and down in a slow pace with no constant rythm. Sometimes it was all the way to the head, sometimes only a short, cut off up and down shifting.

You twisted your hand, lifting a few fingers and adding them again from time to time. Alexander's Head rested against the wall, his mouth opened, sounds leaving his vocal chords in low hums or gasps, vulnerable sound that he trusted you with. You hummed as well, seeing one of his hands grabbing the sheet, crumbling them. You wouldn't be surprised if he ripped them. The other was still bruising your hip, a thrum of slight pain shoot up, a thrum of the love he shared for you. You hummed, your hips pushing themselves forwards on his thigh to gain some friction, a movement immediately stopped by you.

This wasn't about you. This was about him. A moan escaped your lips. "Alexander-" You felt him twitch when you changed the pressure, tighenting and loosening your grip in random intervals. He moaned, trying to hold your stare, while his hand wanted to fall back. His mouth was slightly open, his breathing loud, chopped and fast. You never knew what a sight you missed out on and he never on what kind of pleasure. This Sight, you were sure, was one you'd never be able to forget, if he would leave you know... You're done for. But the way , he looked into your eyes, torso jolting forwards whenever electric signals went through his muscles, he was in just the same situation.

"Sunshine-" You knew he was close, when you felt the sticky liquid leaking onto your fingers and when he involuntarily started thrusting his hips up in a jerking motion, as if his body told him what to do and he had no choice but to comply. When he did tip over the edge, you had the feeling as if he was about to crush your hip and hand, but if this is how you lost them, it'd be worth it. The way he calmed down, his chest rising and falling abruptly, noticeably slowing down as you removed your hand, watching as the white-ish colour leaked out, gathering and spilling over the edge, cascading down as if it was a water fountain without pressure.

You smiled patiently, warmly, even though you yourself were extremely desperate. You waited until he came back to you, finally leaving this state of pure bliss. His head was flushed red, the red spreading down his neck and disappearing into his shoulders, but he slowly regained his colour. "Dear lord in heaven...", he breathed, gaping air in as much as he could, "what have you done to me?" You chuckled and smiled, "Just falling in love, my dear. Just falling in love." Alexander laughed at that, his hand on your hip grabbing your waist an coupling you back in, lips meeting again. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're a witch that out a spell on me" You grinned, raising your hand before his eyes and wriggling your fingers. With a darker, goofy voice you ominously proclaimed: "I put a spell on you~~"

He kissed you again, his smile clear as day. You pulled back and whispered: "and now you're mine" Again, he smiled and you noticed his glasses were slightly tilted, so you took them off, driving your fingers through his hair, which was now a bit longer then when he came to you, and you put them back on. "How did you feel, Alexander, dear?" "Really good... Does it... Feel the same for you?" You hummed positively, his eyes flickering down to his thigh between your legs, he noticed your legs were a tad bit closer than before, the way your height shifted backwards, as if trying to get more and yet less touch at the same time.

"Can I help you? Can you guide me?" "You really don't need to, Alexander. We can take it slow." "What if I want to?" You breathed in. Okay. So you were doing this. You smiled again, and took his hand in yours, guiding it towards yourself. "Take it slow, Alexander, there is no need to rush, okay?" He nodded, following your lead. You leaned back a bit, your hand letting go of his and one of your fingers slightly disappearing into yourself. "This is where you need to go" you took the hand you had just left and pulled him towards you, as he started to lean forwards to meet you halfway. You took the finger out, Alexander noting that it was wet. He thought he had just imagined that his thigh had gotten wet, but now he knew he hadn't.

He was taken aback when he felt just exactly how wet you were, his index finger sliding in easily, nearly being sucked in. You hummed. "Now just-" "go?", He smiled at you and you let out a laugh through your nose at the throwback. "Just go." And go he did. He was careful at first, his finger staying straight as he only pulled out a small amount and filling back in, finger not even buried to the hilt. There wasn't anything building just yet, your desire for something being satisfied. "You can experiment, Alex, I'm not gonna break", you smiled, your hand resting on the one he held himself up with. That was when his finger started moving, exploring. He seemed to massage you from the inside, finally eager to know every single twist and turn.

His finger alone brushed the spongey end you knew so well and, oh did you wonder what he would be able to do if he was more experienced. You hummed and he curled his finger a bit, your hips jerking up again. You looked at Alexander, his green eyes glimmering, as you found them still looking at you - your face. You moaned at that, your hand reaching down and pulling his hand even closer. His movements slowed, before he pulled his finger nearly completely out, as a delicious, slow stretch made itself prominent and you realized, that he just added another finger. You let his hand go, focusing again on keeping yourself sitting.

He had an irregular pace, the harshness and actual pace of his thrusts being vastly different from each other - he learned. From nothing but the things you did to him. His hand was huge compared to yours, fingers wide and calloused. So when he pressed back into the spongey end, his fingers playing around with it, his hand brushed your clit and you jolted like you had just experienced an electric shock, a loud gasp escaping you as well - you hadn't expected this. He stopped dead in his ministrations, studying you for a minute. Your face was flushed, you were leaned back onto your hands, eyes nearly closed, but not quite, focusing on his own.

He looked down, lifted his hand away and did the same as before, with the pressure of his hand on your clit - as he got not even a similar reaction he pressed his hand down on you again, and another jolt ran through your body. Alexander smiled and you knew you were in for it now. He took your shoulder and gently pushed you down on the bed, kneeling between your legs. His hand raised from the bundle of nerves and his other hand sneaked there instead, finger pressing and exploring exactly where it was, eyes never leaving yours. And when he found it, oh dear lord in heaven, you prayed he'd have some mercy left for you.

With the combined experimenting thrusts and moving of his fingers you were quick to grasp his shoulders, squeezing and pulling, your high approaching. You body shivered, as you called his name, fluids spilling onto his hand, as you hands gripped harder and your head fell back, breath quick but steadily slowing down. Alexander didn't look away. He sat there, a bit confused on what to do with his hand, so he just... Held it over his lap. Your juice dropping onto his bare legs. You shifted into a sitting position and gave him a smile, before noticing how lost he looked. You didn't waste time to hurry and get some tissues to wipe himself - and your hand clean with.

ᕙ⁠[⁠･⁠۝･⁠]⁠ᕗ

After you pushed him to the shower, both of you opting to just do so together, because, why would you care now about nakedness of all times? You both got dressed, before you changed the sheets and, even though he offered to help, you ordered him to just wait a few minutes. He did. Then you gestured for him to sit on the bed with you. "So, That's what it feels like." "Everytime?" You shook your head. "Not everytime without exception. It might be more or less intense or satisfying." He seemed to hesitate to ask you the next question, but you just answered it before he could ask: "I am very satisfied, Alexander"

He smiled and took your hand, standing up and pulling you to your feet. "Let's get some snacks", he offered, giving you a kiss. You smiled as well, giving him a peck on his cheek. "Yep, let's go!"

Red Windows - Matt Murdock X Reader (Soulmate AU)

Another Day writing your Soulmate thesis for work, nothing else. That's what you thought. When the Morning dawns and a Devil ends up in your apartment, the same song stuck in both of your heads - what could go wrong? When your Soulmate ends up being a vigilante, the answer is easy to find: everything.

Set in a world, where even after Electra's Death and Daredevils partial hearing loss, Nelson & Murdock & Page are still together and never departed. This is partially due to my own stupidity and confusing the lore, but also simply because of I love the plotline but goddamn, I just want them to stay together.

Proof Read? Yeah, no.

Warnings: None. This does say Matt Murdock X Reader,can however also be seen in a platonic way. Also, maybe like Part 1? Idk, not sure tbf. Hate the ending, but here goes nothing. No use of Y/N or any placeholder

Soulmates. A thing everyone was talking about, sometimes singing so their Soulmate could hear it. Talking to someone else, one didn't know, someone far away, somewhere on this world. Or universe you guessed, considering the recent outing of a bunch of aliens, gods and more. Someone had to be their Soulmate, you guessed.

A lot of people thought Soulmates meant something romantic and were disappointed whenever they found out it was usually a platonic relationship. You should know. After all, you were studying philosophy with a focus on Soulmates. It was a topic that had interested you for a long time now and the older you had gotten, the more you had been fascinated by the mechanics of Soulmates and what the existence of these even implied. You would have preferred to go into the science field of things, however, since progress has been stagnating it was cut out of a lot of universities. So philosophy it was.

You had turned 29 a while ago, yet, had never heard your soulmate sing. Maybe whoever it was just wasn't that into it? Sometimes you sang a little tune to them, to this day to no avail. You were currently working on a thesis about Soulmates and the indications of the inevitability of future and choices and consequences, barely being able to write down all the rapidly passing thoughts on your sheet, when your best friend barged in. "It's Break Time for you and for me. Pack your things. We have an hour and I will not stand being in this office building for longer than five more minutes!"

You laughed slightly, grabbing your stuff and leaving the building right after them. They didn't wait until they started rambling to you, but you were content to listen. "So I met this girl yesterday, she was like, really cute. Short hair, ripped jeans, a flannel? Undeniably incredible taste in fashion. Also, the way she verbally decimated those guys? Absolute slay. The Guys were like trying to hit on a girl or something and wouldn't leave her alone, a real shame to be honest. She was really cute, asked her out." You smiled "That's nice, what did she say?" "That she already has a girlfriend. God, why must all the good Partners always be taken? It's so unfair!" You smiled lightly "Wouldn't know about it" Your friend gasped. "Exactly! I can't understand it, how no one sees you and wants to go out with you! Like, none of the good ones that is. I would totally try." You laughed. "Oh I would as well" "Dating yourself?" You looked at her "not my point, but totally yes."

The Break was over faster than you expected, but the work even longer. You sighed, when you looked at the clock, finally being allowed to get off. You closed your Laptop and said goodbye to the man behind the counter, who had just arrived and wished him a good and peaceful workday. Hell's Kitchen hasn't been the same for a while now, after Daredevil disappeared, the crime rate skyrocketed again, and a lot more Mutants were involved in it as well. You guessed because they didn't feel like they fit in, you couldn't blame them. The glass doors swung close behind you, the cool air of the evening of approaching fall nearly sending shivers down your spine, only nearly though. You fished out you phone and earphones out of your pocket, plugging them in and putting only one on. It was way too dangerous to walk around nearly deaf. You resumed the playlist you were listening, enjoying the song that came next, one of your all time favourites.

Take me to a light show before we go

Chemicals inside us line our bones

Your steps echoed through the street, the dark orange sky darkening slowly but surely fading into blue. The Bus station wasn't far away, and since your workplace didn't provide you with a parking spot, you took the bus. It roughly took the same time anyways.

Everybody's wasted, on their phones

Digits on the dancefloor, then our clothes

Next to the bus station there was a bakery, which you went to all the time while waiting for your bus. It wouldn't arrive for another 15 minutes, plenty enough time to buy yourself whatever you wanted. You usually opted for the same, but sometimes you felt like switching it up, like today. You asked for your order, waiting for the kind cashier to pack it.

Even if it blinds us

I'm reaching for the light within the fever

I'm reaching for your hand

You payed the cashier, taking your order and going back to the bus station.

The space between our fingers

Sparks, I feel them linger on

The bus arrived and after scanning your monthly ticket you sat down, thanking your work for not letting you get off in the middle of rush hour. The drive was quiet and you arrived home safely, deciding to get out of your work clothes and make yourself comfortable. You relaxed a bit, before deciding to head to bed, humming the melody of the song stuck in your head.

Next time let it go

Break my skin, Red Windows

So I'll know

.................…⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

It wasn't morning when you woke up, and it wasn't your alarm that woke you. The crashing of a window, heavy breathing and pained groans. Despite yourself, you stood up after you heard another crash - glass, maybe your table or a glass you just hadn't put in your dishwasher yet. You armed yourself with the first thing you could find - a belt - and stalked to your living room. The man had stopped trashing around, leaning heavily on a counter, shattered glass on the floor. He was still panting, but definitely trying to hide it. It was Daredevil. Daredevil stood in your apartment. Sure. yeah. Just a normal Tuesday Night. Not to mentioned he was supposedly gone.

You didn't know what came over you, but the only thing your brain was able to scamper together was a breathy "Hi" to the Vigilante. A pained smile graced his features "Hey." You stood there for a second, before remembering that he was leaning on a counter, just shattered a glass and was probably in a lot of pain. "Oh my god, wait, let me-" You vanished to get the Frist aid kit from the bathroom, returning to him in a matter of two minutes. You never thought you'd really have to use it, you didn't really expect a crime fighting Devil to appear injured in your living room. You hadn't seen any blood in the darkness, but you were sure to turn the lights on to take care of the man.

"Alright, just sit in the couch and I'll prepare... I don't know, what do you have? Bulletwounds? Were you stabbed, slashed?" The man laughed slightly but didn't move an inch. "Do you even know how to treat wounds?" "No, but that doesn't mean you can't guide me, you must me very well versed in this field." He still didn't move. "You gonna come over here?" He hesitated but pushed himself off the counter and waddled towards you, totally not noticing the couch and swaying harshly against it. He cursed under his breath and felt along the backside until he found the seating part. "Damn, you must be really out of it, not seeing the couch like that." He chuckled nervously. "Yeah, rough night" "Did you get hit in the head?" "No" Phew, thank god. One least thing to worry about. "Okay, could you like, get rid of the suit?" "Want to see a Vigilante naked so you can give it to the press?", He joked, you laughed. "No, but maybe I want to be able to keep a secret just for myself"

He got rid of the suit, wearing a thin black shirt and pants underneath, they reminded you of those that ice-skaters wore while training sometimes. His left leg was soaked, and not in sweat or water - in blood. You bunched the thin Leggings over the injury and came face to face with a red leg and a white structure, that looked way too much like a bone to be anything else, exiting his skin. "Fuck." "Yeah" "You walked with that?" "I did more with that then walk." "And you're human? Not just Thor in disguise or something?" "Pretty sur einem, yes" "That's wild. Okay, anything else?" I got shot and stabbed in the side, don't know how they got through the suit." "Alright, alright. Yeah, sure, we can.. we can work something out. I think" He laughed again, a charming laugh, you noted. "What do I do?" "Is the bullet still inside?" You pulled him forward from his leaning position, pulling up his shirt and seeing a matching hole in the back. "No" "Okay, that's good. Now you'll have to-"

You got more comfortable with him guiding you, knowing and feeling that he knew what he was doing. Sometimes he needed to help you a bit and in the end, you were done and he was still lying on your couch, his pantleg was still bunched up and his shirt was off - it had just been easier than him needing to hold it up while also guiding and helping you. While he was putting his shirt back on and sipping on some water you had brought him, you were already cleaning up the mess. You couldn't help yourself humming that song, calming yourself down why you did so, passing by Daredevil to clean the table and floor, the couch was something to worry about later. You weren't gonna throw an injured man off of your couch just to clean his blood. "My Soulmate sings that song all the time." You looked up from the puddle of blood, mixed with water and bleach you were scrubbing at and observed the man. He had a small smile on the lips that were visible. "Your Soulmate?" He nodded "Yes, she keeps singing this song, always at the same time on weekdays. I guess she gets off of work then." "Why are you telling me this? I could use this against you." "Doubt it. You would've called an ambulance or police if you would go against me" "Maybe I'm building trust to betray you."

"Why do you want me to distrust you so badly?" You stayed silent. "It's not about me", you started after a while, "it's about you. You need to be careful. Not all are as friendly as I am" "That, I only know too well." Silence. "My Soulmate doesn't sing. Never." "Never?" "No. Not even humming. Or jingles, absolutely nothing. I heard him once, back a few years ago. He was drunk, singing something very badly. He was practically screaming." "That must have been exhausting." "It wasn't. I was absolutely ecstatic. I had heard him for the first and only time that night, while he hears me on a daily basis. Sometimes I wonder if I am bothering him, because he doesn't sing at all, or if he died. I just hope he is a good man." "I am sure he is." Before Silence could settle in again, you spoke up "When your Soulmate sings Red Windows a lot, it shouldn't be hard to find them. Only round about 200 people listened to the original on YouTube, where it came from. 200 people in the entire world, shouldn't be hard to find. Not only that, but some of these probably don't even like the song." "Could you play it for me?" You were startled. "What?" "I couldn't find the song. Could you play it for me?" "Uhh" you stood up, washed your hands thoroughly with soap and got your Phone. "Sure." You typed in the name of the song, letting it play and setting the phone down on a clean surface.

In Time let it show

Feel that scarlet Undertow

As it flows

You hummed with the song, swaying a bit to the beat and going back to cleaning. The stranger on your couch watched you.

Even if our bodies start to burn

And our passion starts to turn

I don't want our night, the night, tonight to end

So

Daredevil shifted on the couch, getting up while mainly using his uninjured leg and grabbing another cloth to help you clean the blood, sitting on the floor instead of kneeling like you were.

Next time let it go,

Break my skin, Red Windows

To my soul

So I'll know.

He grabbed your wrist mid-cleaning. "You should go to bed. This is my mess, I'll clean it. You have work tomorrow, so you should definitely get enough sleep" "But you need to rest as well" "I've had worse, you should really go to sleep. I will sleep in a bit as well." "You can stay as long as you need to. And you need to rest. Leave the cleaning to me." "Of course."

After waking up, you understood that that was a stupid request from you, seeing that he cleared the shattered glass, and that every surface was clean - the Couch still had some stains but it was mostly clean. There was breakfast on the table and a man, back turned to you, helmet off, sitting and eating. "Good Morning. I see you didn't rest like I told you." "And you did" He didn't turn his head and you didn't look at his face, when he pulled his mask over his head again, hiding his black hair. "Don't you have work to attend as well?" "I.. I do." "Then you should take a cab to work and get a coworker or friend to help you." You sat down and started to eat - scrambled egg with bacon pieces mixed together with some herb you had lying around. You didn't know what it was, your mother had brought it over when you had moved - but he seemed to know. "Shame about your window" You looked at the pieces of cloth and wood (where did he get that stuff from anyways?) covering the busted window. "Yeah, that's not gonna sit well with my wallet, I'm afraid. A shame, indeed" After the Breakfast was finished, and he was back in his superhero suit, he looked back, before walking out the fire escape. "Go to a Lawyer named Matt Murdock, he will help you" "Don't think I have money, big guy" "He doesn't take money. He takes whatever you are willing to give"

And just like that, you sat at work, sitting over a half-finished sentence in your thesis and pondering about this being a dream. The Fact you had been so unfazed probably was a sign of - no. You didn't believe you'd think his, and that this was the reason that convinced you, that it had all happened. You don't even remember what you did with the belt you were holding, it seemed like a big blurr, the moment you had seen him. You clearly remembered patching him up and all that, but God damn did you want to tell someone. And tell someone you did. Your new lawyer for a case that wasn't even a case. You didn't even know why exactly you looked him up and called him, but oh well.

"Matt Murdock, Attorney at Law. What is the reason for your call?" You gave him your name, hesitating before continuing. "This may sound weird, but Daredevil crashed into my window yesterday evening and told me to call you to get that situation sorted out." The Lawyer chuckled. A familiar voice, a familiar chuckle, you realised. It was slightly different, but you couldn't shake the feeling as if you were talking to Daredevil again. Stupid Vigilante crashing into your window and your mind. You desired emotional compensation, even though he had no negative effect on you. The Lawyer chuckling was having a lot more negative impact on your mood. Of course he wouldn't take you seriously. "Do you happen to have insurance?" You nodded, then sighed, remembering you were on the phone. "Yes, but I don't think it covers crashed window because of a Vigilante type of Damage" Another laugh "Come in with your contract and I'll see what I can do" "What about Payment?" "You don't need to pay me, if you have no money. I am only here to help" Damn. So it really was whatever you were ready to give, sure.

Since a Memory is locked in tight

Even in our dreams we'd never find

Any hidden Details, not one sign

Not even your dial tone, if not mine

Making your way to the lawyer's office, your trusty Google Maps as your guide, you silently sing the song to yourself. You took off one of your earphones when you reached the building,riding the elevator a few levels up to the designated one. There was a door with a metal tag on it. In bold, pretending letters it read Nelson & Murdock & Page. You knocked beside the tag.

But I heard it in surround sound

In a private space between that only we found

Like a feeling we can't shake

They are watching through the keyholes

Wishing they could be this close

When a blonde woman opened the door, you completely took off your headphones, stopping your music effectively. She seemed surprised. "Didn't think we'd get someone today, come on in!" You entered, slightly confused. "Uhm, I called earlier, and I was told to come in whenever I can in business hours." The Woman nodded. "Who did you speak with?" "I think it was uh... A man, Murdock, I think?" She lit up. "Ah, yes, let me just check with him really quick!" She disappeared in one of the doors, the one to the left, and reappeared a few second later. "Sorry I didn't think of you, I was on break so Matt took your call, if you could wait a minute, he will call you in." You thanked her and sat down on one of the free chairs.

You were singing under your breath, just loud enough for your ears only, when you heard you name being called by a very familiar voice, a man standing in the door that was previously unoccupied, a small, smug smile on his lips. You stood up, noticing his red tainted glasses. Unusual, you noted. "Good Day, Mister Murdock, thank you for seeing me" "I just want to help, come on in." You followed him into his office, noticing how he kept one of his hands on a surface at all times, making his way to sit at his table, a bunch of thick books laying in one corner, and - you noticed - Sheets of Paper with bumps on them. Braille. You sat down at the chair in front of the desk, while he set up a recorder. "Would it be alright if I record the conversation?" "Yes, of course." "Okay good. Then, let's start." He pressed play. "Please state your name and the reason you are here." You gave him your name again, before elaborating "Yesterday night or this morning, i didn't look at the clock, but I had already gone to bed, I was woken up by a crashing sound. I went to investigate and found the Vigilante Daredevil had crashed through my window, severely injured. I helped him and just before I went to bed he told me to call this office." "About your insurance?" "Yes." "Okay, do you happen to have the contract with you?" You affirmed once again. "What kind of contract?" "It's an Appartment I had to take because of my workplace, so it's an insurance contract with them, they pay for round-about normal insurance. Don't think those cover Superhero or Vigilante Damages"

You ended up reading the entire thing to him, not even understanding half of the stuff you were reading. He did though, obviously. You ended up staying well past opening hours, tomorrow was your free day so it was fine for you - and apparently also for the lawyer. Karen Page had left around half an hour ago, so you volunteered to find the kitchen and make some coffee and a small snack, while he worked through some of his Texts in Braille, saying something to the recorder from time to time to keep it on his mind. Quietly singing the song to yourself while searching in the small kitchen for the coffee beans.

Next time, let it go,

You found the coffe beans and put them in the grinder, positioning the first cup underneath and letting the coffee run.

Break my skin, Red Windows

After that one was done, you did the same with the second cup. Bringing the two cups back, you stopped singing under your breath right in front of the office. You opened the door with your elbow and sat down the two cups p, settling back into the chair.

"You really like that song" You didn't think he'd heard you, so you were slightly surprised. "Oh, sorry if I was too loud" Matt Murdock smiled "It doesn't really matter how loud you are, it's a good song, I've heard it on loop thelastfew days" Oh, so he already knew the song, weird coincidence, considering how unknown it was. "I have been too, it's a wonderful song." "Well, I didn't really have a choice, but definitely better than other songs I had to listen to." He didn't have a choice? "Has your Soulmate been singing it?" He didn't answer, instead sipping on his coffee, giving you a fairly cheeky smile and focusing back on his work. A few Minutes passed, when you heard him hum. You heard him hum twice.

One was in you head and the other was, well, right in front of you. You were baffled. "What?" He stopped, his eyes shielded behind the red glasses, still looking straight ahead. He gave a questioning hum. "Uh... Sorry, i just had a thought" "About us being Soulmates?" You faltered. "What? How did you know?" "Because I knew since you came in. He went to take of his red glasses, unfocused eyes looking in your direction, but feeling like they still looked past you. "I didn't want to rush, but I admit, it was a pleasant discovery." "Huh".

You eyes fell to the red tainted glasses, like Red Windows.

To my soul

Seven Minutes in Hell {Breakup! Eustass Kid X Reader}

You have been treated badly one too many times. It's time to leave your Boyfriend behind

Shit hasn't been well, this song slaps and let's get this shit show started!

Ofc kinda angsty(not really though?, but on god Reader deserves freedom (Dw, my pookie will get another actual One shot soon lmao, hopefully as tasteful as the song but lbfr i'll probabky flump it again)

Anywho, let's get it started

Admittedly, your relationship with Kid was everything but healthy. He was loud and didn't really care about if you had to stand up in the morning, police called to your place more than once for loud screaming and arguments. There were his guy friends, his crew, that were obviously higher on his priority list than you — far higher. The amount of times he nearly went to jail for them, you'd thought Kid would have learned his lesson, but alas he never did. And you? Well, you seemed to only be there for one thing — stress relief. If that meant fucking you and screaming at you, something even throwing random stuff at you he found in the house, well, that was for him to decide on the whim.

If at least the sex was good, but even that was all about him. It was like the world revolved around him and only him and everyone had to do what he wanted. Well, too bad for him, you had enough. Years of misery finally snapping to a close, you decided he wasn't worth your time anymore. You were done with being treated like an old-timey housewife of the Middle Ages. You had packed your things while he was out with his friends again, ready to leave. There was no way in hell however you would want to miss his face when you confronted him, oh how you imagined he'd look. Would he be upset, would he scream at you again, only proving your point?

You put your last bag in your best friend's trunk, she had been kind enough to lend you a hand in her endeavor. If it went how she wanted to, you probably wouldn't even have started this relationship, but now she just sat ready to drive, the box of glitter she brought still sitting on the back seat as she gave you a last encouraging nod to take it. You didn't and went back inside, letting her know it could get late — she waited, of course. And you went back inside.

Kid was expecting food on the stove when he came back home, he didn't even notice your shoes missing on the shoe rack out front when he unlocked the apartment, but he did notice one thing — all that decor he had absolutely despised missing. He even smiled triumphantly before he realised the missing smell of fresh food. Kicking off his boots haphazardly, he stopped into the kitchen and saw you on your phone, sitting on a chair at the table. "Yo, what's with food?" "I won't make you food anymore."

There was a silence, a calm before the storm. You put your phone in your back pocket before he could fly off the handle, just in time. "What the fuck?! You're not even gonna make me food now, what are you even worth?!" You let him have his little temper tantrum, before you sighed. "We're done, Kid. I'm worth far more than you, and by all means... I really hope you never get another partner in your life, my god" He seethed, his face contorting in anger, but he didn't say anything, couldn't say anything, words missing on his tongue and voice dying in his throat. "Oh, and uh, I'm moving out. Like today." You shrugged.

All the tension in him seemed to snap at once, as he lunged forwards, grabbing you by your throat and pushing you against the wall. His metal fingers pressing down hard, actually restricting your airway. "You fucking bitch have the audacity to come in here, live here for years, be absolutely useless to me, then up and leave? No, no, you don't get to do that!" "Well, I was good enough to make you food. And to get you off, apparently. Also, you hurt me in any way, I won't hesitate to call the police, I only need to press one button right now." He huffed, he really seemed like a bull trapped in a ring with gladiators, just that this was no real fight. "Don't fucking pretend like you didn't like this shit, wasn't that part of the reason you even came here in the first place?"

"It was, at the start" You smiled. "You just kind of… Put me through hell, not gonna lie. Like, you've gotten so bad in bed, it's actively hell. Like I'm just there, and honestly, no. Not even a thank you, no — just no." His hands clenched into fists, and for a second you thought you had crossed the line, as he raised his hand, before he turned, smashing the table with his prosthetic. "Get out you fucking whore! Get out, or I swear I'll rip your fucking throat out!" You didn't need to get asked twice, running to your friends' car, who looked at you worriedly, but you smiled as you hoped into the passenger seat. "Drive, Drive!" And without a word, she started the car as you began laughing. Finally, you were free again.

No Need To Fear {Moira & Mercy, Angst}

After an Attack on an Overwatch and Blackwatch Meeting, Moira and Angela are trapped in the rubble. A lone window on the ceiling their only escape, Angela the only one able to reach it. Yet, as Fate wished it, Angela is badly injured and in need of medical attention, Moira the only one that could heal her. But does she trust the sadistic scientist to keep her promise?

Angela Ziegler knew better than to trust Moira O'Deorain. She knew better, she should have known better. For years, she had despised her methods, had resisted a collaboration between the two, had decidedly pushed everything away Moira had offered.

Moira just wanted to advance her research, she wanted to surpass death, but she was ruthless. Angela knew that very well. Blackwatch was a disgrace in her mind. Out of hand, uncontrollable and wild. Blackwatch was evil, more so because of the fellow scientist hired.

Angela always met Moira with disdain, dismissive and absolute. Judging her Methods and morals, yet Moira remained unbothered. Calm. Objective set on discovering her revival technology. No, she had long ago made up her mind. Never would she put her trust in Moira, never would she work together with her and never would she believe her words.

Moira had escaped the attack unscathed, Mercy — Angela — had not. Angela was in her Mercy Uniform, the Wings in her back, fitting to her name, bleeding profusely. A part of the protective armour was shattered, flesh exposed underneath and Moira could already tell what a disaster it was, shrapnel and dirt in her open wound, if she was lucky, she could get it out. If only Angela would let her.

Angela's mind was fuzzy, edges blurring and her thoughts mixing into a muddy soup. But she stood strong, slapping away Moira's hands, whenever she caught the slender, bony limbs reach and touch. “My staff”

Moira had already looked for the staff, partially because she wanted to look at it, understand it, but mainly because a great mind like Angela's shouldn't be lost because of stubbornness. She had pulled it out of rubble, and while she was unsure about how it worked, it was broken in multiple pieces. It somehow looked alive inside, and if it was, it wasn't anymore. It had burned and soot was covering the shiny metal.

Angela knew she couldn't fix her staff in time. They were trapped anyway, and Moira needed her if she wanted to escape — there was a window above them, but it was too high for the Irish Woman to reach, even with using the rubble as a vantage point. The highest she got was her long fingernails barely scraping along the glass. Moira had no choice. She was the one who had it. If she would let Moira help her, surely she wouldn't do anything stupid?

Moira had tried breaking the window and failed. The explosion had caged them in, it was a miracle the godforsaken window stood strong, albeit a terribly timed miracle. She clicked her tongue as she walked quickly over to Angela, her shoes clicking against the floor, as she knelt down. “Let me help you, Angela. I promise I won't do anything, all you have to do is trust me.”

Angela had trusted Moira once. Back when they were still in med school, she had trusted her and Moira had coldly used it against her. Angela knew Moira, she knew her nature, she knew Moira wouldn't be able to resist another betrayal of trust, it's what she did to everyone, she didn't care. But Angela cared. At least she would have, her mind was too unfocused, too messy. She couldn't grasp a single thought, and as Moira's hands grasped at the Armour, she couldn't lift herself to stop her, her hands not raising as she tried. She was so weak, so tired.

Moira smiled, as she tugged the armour off, Angela pale and sweaty, as she looked at the wound, taking out the shrapnel with her medical equipment she carried with. Angela flinched and yelped at the pain, but Moira was undeterred. She lifted Angela's undershirt, securing it with a loose knot so it wouldn't fall over the wound steadily leaking blood. Threatening words left Angela's mouth, but the vigor behind it was missing, so Moira continued.

Angela was helpless. She watches as if dazed, as Moira took out a bottle of disinfectant, but instead of doing it properly, she poured it into the wound, a wicked smile on her features. Angela couldn't help but scream, it hurt so bad. Suddenly filled with adrenaline and pain, she pushed Moira from her slumped body, as she turned, trying to crawl along the wall. She wouldn't get far, she couldn't, with them being trapped, but she sure would try.

Moira wasn't pleased. It wasn't the first time her patients went running. Sometimes she let them, only to chase them afterwards - sometimes, it was just thrilling fun, but not this time. Scoffing, Moira reached for Angela's shoulders, roughly spinning her around before pointedly seating herself on her hips, pinning her down. Angela yelled, thrashed. The wound leaked more blood and Moira got angry. She didn't want Angela to die of blood loss, that wouldn't do. Extending her right arm, she aimed at the other Overwatch employee, also injured but already unconscious, extracting his life force, before showering Angela in the soft, warm, sharply stinging healing spray.

Angela was surprised at first, she was scared, afraid of Moira but Moira had actually helped her. She retracted her hands from trying to punch and push Moira, as Moira reached out. Her expression was neutral, as she softly grabbed her hands, and then, in less than a second, Angela was helpless again. Her hands were pinned over her head with Moira's right hand as she could only watch how Moira pulled a syringe out of her med kit, the contents purple like her biotic grasp, before she injected it right where her old wound was.

Moira watched as Angela lay there, helpless and restrained, only able to wait for the effects of whatever Moira had just injected her to kick in. Moira, of course, knew what she had injected her fellow scientist with. Soon, Angela would feel nauseous, she'd fall unconscious before the chemical could actually fulfill it's true purpose — making her a slave to Moira, just like she had chained Reyes, Amélie and Siebren.

If Angela was a merciful Angel, Moira was a ruthless Demon, but Moira wouldn't want it any other way, after all, how else could she achieve her goals? Angela Ziegler's technology in her hands… Well, technically, Angela Ziegler herself. There was no one who could stop her now. Moira looked towards the window at the top. Maybe she would die before Angela would succumb to her pain and help Moira. But she could rest easy, knowing how close she came.