Don't Feel Bad About Posting Angst Like This Author. There's Sickos Like Me Who Will Snort It Like Their

Loved the chapter, I will forgive the use of the word buttocks wholeheartedly due to the delicious chapter, don't worry author (lol).

Prediction: she's about to get kidnapped af

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Fifteen

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smut and angst. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 5.4k

A/N : I'm sorry for using the word buttocks. I'm deeply ashamed rn...

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN

MASTER LIST

Chapter Fifteen

Sleeping in until three in the afternoon helped you skip the worst of your hangover, but you didn’t feel any better. In fact you felt like shit.

You hated what you’d done to Matt, hated that you kept dragging Karen into your problems and, most of all, you hated that you kept letting Billy have so much power over you. Something needed to change, you weren’t prepared to carry on that way. You’d reached your lowest point, felt broken in a new and more painful way.

It had to stop.

The idea came upon you slowly, starting as an insidious notion while you were eating breakfast that only seemed to become more insistent as you showered.

You needed to leave.

Every reason you had to stay had evaporated last night. You didn’t belong here with any of them - maybe you didn’t belong anywhere at all. And you were just so so tired of every day feeling so miserable and alone.

Before you really knew what you were doing, you’d stepped out into the penthouse and made your way to the elevator, to the intercom, to your only way out.

The intercom crackled and buzzed far louder than you expected. You hit the button twice and then waited. It was the middle of the day, Lissa was probably sleeping, but impatience got the better of you and you hit the button again. You barely noticed the tears that were rolling down your cheeks, your finger jabbing the button again.

“What are you doing?” 

His voice filled the penthouse and, for a moment, you didn’t dare turn around, you just kept pushing the intercom, over and over, not wanting to face him.

“I said -”

When you felt a hand on your shoulder, you finally turned. 

He was right behind you, far too close for comfort. Billy seemed taken aback by your tears and you took that moment of confusion to pull away from him and to start moving back towards your rooms.

“You win,” you told him, barely keeping your voice from breaking. “I’m done. I’m leaving.”

“What?” 

There was hurt in that word, a pain that he didn’t deserve an ounce of pity for but, still, it turned your stomach to think that you might have upset or hurt him in any way. But that was the difference between you and him, you cared about his pain while he barely even seemed to notice yours.

“I’m leaving,” you said again, “I quit.”

“No,” he said like he didn’t understand, like he couldn’t figure out what had led to the decision. 

“No?” You repeated, heartache and anger filling your voice. How dare he try to fight for you now. “You don’t get to tell me no after everything you’ve done to me, Billy.”

“I -” he started and stopped, uncertain which of his many crimes against you that you were most upset about. “I'm sorry. I fucked up, I know I fucked up, but -”

Against your better judgement you stopped dead in your tracks and turned to face him.

“But what? What excuse do you possibly think you have for keeping me prisoner and lying to my friends?” You asked, your voice getting louder each time he made you respond to him. “This is what you wanted.”

“I didn't want this.” His voice rose to match yours, almost frantic. “I just needed time to -”

“What? Find someone else?” You snapped. “Two someone else’s? Did you take them all to bed last night?”

“No,” he answered just as sharply. “I wanted to - before you, I would have - but they aren’t you. You’re the only one I want.”

“Am I supposed to believe that? After all the lies?”

“I just spent the last few weeks trying to get you out of my head, but I can’t.” An uneasy desperation started to fill his voice, every word sounding more fraught than you’d ever heard him. “You’re like sunlight, I - I can’t stop thinking about how you feel and, when I’m not with you, I miss you so fucking much.”

“Stop lying to me!” Your own voice turning just as fraught, hating that he was doing this to you now that you’d made the difficult decision to leave.

You started moving again, getting closer to the door leading to your rooms and, of course, Billy realised that if you reached your bedroom, he wouldn’t be able to follow. When you tried to open the adjoining door, you soon found his hand on it, stopping you. You turned, pressing back against the wood, trying to create some space between you as you glared at him, silently demanding he move.

“Please, just listen to me,” he tried again.

“Why?”

“Because losing you would kill me.”

His confession seemed to suck all the air from the room and, while every rational part of you was screaming at you not to believe him, the way he said it sounded so certain, so raw. 

“You wanted to send me away,” you told him again. “You wanted me to leave.”

“I wanted you to be safe,” he said, his gaze dropping to your broken arm, his voice breaking. “Just look at you, look what I did...”

He’d been so cold and emotionless after it had happened, when he’d first asked you to leave, but hearing him now, seeing the look on his face... you finally understood just how much the situation had fucked him up. It seemed like your decision to leave had unnerved him enough to force some honesty from him.

You couldn’t speak. It felt like all the anger had drained from you and, instead, there was something else inside you, the sort of pain that you couldn’t put a name to. He’d hurt you. Over and over. And you weren’t going to make excuses for him, but now he was finally letting you see how much it had hurt him too, it left you feeling unsettled.

“I thought I could let you go if it meant you’d be safe,” he muttered, his gaze still fixed on your cast.

“And now?”

You watched as he took a shuddered breath, tension coiling in his body as he struggled to find the words. The silence seemed to stretch on and all you could hear was the echo of your heart, pounding in your chest. And you knew Billy could hear it too. 

With every second that passed in silence, you started to lose hope.

“You terrify me,” he confessed in a whisper. “Everything about you, the way you make me feel; it’s all terrifying to me. And I can’t - I don’t understand it.”

You didn’t dare speak, wanting him to continue without prompt or provocation. Anything he said had to be because he wanted to say it. This was his chance to finally be honest and lay all of his cards on the table before you left. So, you waited, barely breathing as he seemed to fight with every rational part of himself to say the words.

“I wish I could stop feeling like this. I wish I could just let you go.”

“Why can’t you?” Your voice broke as you tried to hold back a flood of fresh tears. “You don’t want me, so why keep me here?”

“Stop saying that. Of course I want you. It kills me how much I want you,” he told you, still not looking at you, still staring at your arm, his head hung. “But it kills me just as much knowing that I’ll lose you no matter what I do. Even if you stayed by my side the rest of your life, and I’d still have to watch you grow old and slip away from me.”

Your breath caught, realising you’d never thought of it that way. When you’d told him you wanted to stay, you hadn’t been thinking about the future, about spending your life with him. But Billy wasn’t like you, a year to him would seem like nothing in the grand scheme of things. So would your lifetime. 

“You’ll grow old and die, and you’d miss out on so much because of me. There’s so many things I can’t give you… so many things you deserve...”

The thing that hurt most of all was how he’d obviously thought all of it through, how he’d considered what a future together would look like, but he hadn’t once tried to talk to you about it to find out what you wanted.

“I know I can’t keep you, but it’s just -” he let out an agitated huff “- it’s not fair. You’re the one person who makes this life, this existence bearable, and you hate me. You were the best thing to happen to me and I ruined it. I just wanted a little more time...”

Finally he looked up, his jaw clenching uncomfortably, his dark eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I don’t want to hurt you again but I don’t want you to go,” he almost pleaded. “Please, don’t go...”

It was your turn to talk, the moment to stick to your guns and tell him you were leaving, but the words just wouldn’t come. Tears were still rolling down your cheeks and you hated how much pain you were both in. Finally, he’d been honest and it was enough to make you wish he’d stuck with his lies.

“Please, say something,” he said after a minute had passed in silence.

“I’m tired, Billy,” you confessed, “I’m so tired of everything always being a fight or an argument...” 

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I’ve put you through all of this.”

He dared to reach for you, his fingers brushing over the back of your hand, a ghost of a touch. But that touch was a comfort that you had been desperately craving, a comfort that you’d tried to find with Matt the night before, a comfort that you were finally realising only Billy could provide.

“Everything seems so pointless without you,” he muttered.

As much as you wanted to deny it, you felt the exact same way.

You loved him and nothing was going to change that.

Your heart stuttered, your hand slowly turning, cautiously letting your fingers brush against his before lacing them together and taking hold of his hand. A relieved sound escaped him and you felt his fingers tighten around yours.

“I won't hurt you again,” he promised and, this time, you actually believed him.

He reached for your cheek, thumb gently wiping away your tears.

A minute must have passed and neither of you seemed willing to move or pull away, so Billy cleared the distance and kissed you. It was soft at first, a tender reaffirmation and reignition of all the feelings you’d been trying to snuff out. He pressed closer, the kiss eventually turning more heated until his body was against yours and your broken arm was wrapped around him, cast pressing into his back and pulling him against you.

It was a slow descent into frenzy, but you both seemed to know where it was heading.

When he lifted you off your feet, your legs wrapped around him. You barely paid attention to where he was taking you, too caught up in his kiss.

Under different circumstances you might have taken a moment to realise that you were finally seeing his bedroom; you would have paid more attention to the dark and cold colour scheme and the smattering of photographs on the wall, or maybe you would have noticed the large walk-in closet, filled with his suits. But all you saw was the bed and all you wanted to pay attention to was Billy.

He kept kissing you and, by the time he put you down, your legs felt weak.

You both moved on auto-pilot, both needing and wanting so desperately that undressing each other was just a formality. There was no wonderment in slowly uncovering him because you’d seen him so many times and, this time, you were aching for so much more. You barely even pulled back from the kiss to look at him as his shirt, then pants, fell away.

Once you were both down to your underwear, you reached for him, your hand cupping his cock, feeling how it was already throbbing and hard for you, the tip already peeking out from beneath the elastic waistband of his boxers.

“Hummingbird,” he groaned as deft fingers unhooked your bra and pulled it away from you.

His hands slid up your stomach to your breasts, kneading the soft flesh and tracing his thumbs over your achingly hard nipples. He kissed you again, languidly and slowly. Your hand cupped him and stroked him through his boxers, earning another groan that you happily swallowed down, his hips moving, gently pressing himself into your touch.

A hand gripped your waist as he slowly guided you backwards. When you felt the bed against the back of your legs, you moved, climbing onto it and pulling him with you, 

You fell back, legs instinctively parting for him, allowing him to settle between your thighs. He tested the water by pressing his hips down against yours, letting you feel the hard length of his cock against you.

“Billy,” you gasped, arching your body into his.

“What do you need, hummingbird?” He asked, though you were already certain that he knew the answer.

“You, Billy,” you answered, already breathless, “I need you.”

He reached down between your bodies, cupping you through your panties, biting his lip when he felt just how wet they were. Billy didn’t bother trying to remove them, he settled for tearing them away from your body.

“You’re so wet already,” he said, wasting no time before pushing a finger inside you, causing your back to arch. He pulled it out just as quick before pushing in two and starting to fuck you with them.

“Billy,” you moaned with the intensity of it. 

It had been over six weeks since he’d last touched you, but he hadn’t forgotten a thing. You cried out as his fingers curled inside you, your walls clenching around him, gripping him tight. But it wasn’t his fingers you wanted, and Billy seemed to know that.

“I know,” he muttered as he pressed his lips to your neck. “Soon, hummingbird, I just need to make sure you’re ready for me...”

“Please...” you heard yourself begging, completely losing yourself to him.

“First you’re going to take my fingers, then my tongue, and then you’ll get my cock,” he told you.

Just the thought of it had you shivering.

Your breath caught as a third finger slipped inside you, stretching you and pushing you closer to an orgasm you didn’t have permission to have. At some point, your fingers had tangled in his hair and you were tugging far harder than you should.

“Do you want to come for me?” He whispered into your ear, and all you could do was keen in response. “Then come for me, little hummingbird.”

It was automatic, your body doing exactly as he wanted. You cried out and moaned his name as your walls started to convulse and flutter around his fingers. Fingers that kept moving, dragging out the sensation of ecstacy. You pulled his lips to yours and kissed him, trembling and moaning as his tongue found yours.

But he didn’t linger. Soon he was moving down your body, lips and tongue trailing a clear path from your lips, over your chest and stomach, and down to the apex of your thighs. You shivered in anticipation, seeing his dark eyes staring up at you from between your legs, his fingers parting your folds and -

“Billy,” you cried out as his tongue slid against your trembling flesh.

Your back arched and you tried to lift your hips to press against his mouth, but Billy quickly gripped your thighs and held you in place, determined to stay in control of your pleasure. His tongue moved to your clit, licking with the lightest pressure, barely a ghost of a touch but it was enough to have you breathless.

Finally his attention moved lower, lapping against your slick entrance before pressing the tip inside. If he hadn’t been holding you so tightly, so possessively, your hips would have shot off the bed but, instead, all you could do was cry out as his tongue continued to lick into you.

At some point, your fingers had found their way to his hair again and you were holding him just as tightly as he was holding you, trying to pull him against him, demanding more. And Billy didn’t disappoint. 

He fucked you with his tongue, not stopping to give you permission to come but, instead, fixing you with a hungry look. 

Your whole body tensed before you came on his tongue, but Billy didn’t stop. He continued to devour you, returning his attention to your clit, pushing you from one orgasm right into the next.

“Please,” you begged, feeling like you were about to shatter into a million tiny pieces, “no more. I can’t take any more.”

And, finally, he relented. Billy crawled back up your body, his chin and lips glistening with your wetness. He kissed you eagerly and your lips parted for him, tasting yourself in his mouth, while your hands forced his boxers down.

You’d already come three times, but just the press of his cock at your wet entrance was enough to make your breath catch. You were already intimately familiar with how big he was but it still made you nervous. Looking down you watched him tease his tip between your folds until it glistened with a mixture of your arousal and his own pre-cum.

Then, his cock surged into you, filling you in one rough thrust, catching you off-guard and causing your over-sensitive pussy to tremble as you struggled to adjust to his size. He pulled back before filling you again and again before coming to an abrupt stop buried deep inside you, leaving you shaking beneath him.

He looked down at you, a mixture of remorse and shame on his face and it took you a moment to realise why; he thought he was being too rough with you.

You reached for him, your hand pressing against his cheek. 

“It’s okay,” you told him softly, “I don’t want you to hold back.”

“But what if I -” he started and you shook your head.

“Are you here with me? Are you in control?” You asked and Billy gave a definite nod. “Then fuck me, Billy.” You told him, feeling your cheeks warm at how brazen it sounded.

You moaned as you felt him start to move again, every hard inch taking what he needed from you, every thrust causing your walls to flutter and clench, gripping him tight. Everything had been building to this moment, months of foreplay finally leading somewhere. It was no wonder he couldn’t hold back. 

“Fuck, hummingbird, you keep gripping my cock like that and I’m not going to last,” he groaned through gritted teeth. “Is that what you want? You want me to come inside you?”

No words left your mouth, just an eager, desperate moan as you stared up at him, lust and desire written all over his handsome face, putting to rest any lingering doubts that you had about his feelings for you.

He kissed you again and again, and you lost yourself to everything he was doing to you. You lost yourself to him. Every time he pulled back, he left you feeling empty and every time he plunged forward left you feeling like all your prayers had been answered.

“Come for me,” he demanded, as if he knew it was building in you before you did.

As commanded, your body started to shudder, coming undone as you moaned his name. His hips slowed, leisurely fucking you through another orgasm, sending more desperate sparks of arousal through your body. It was overwhelming. It was too much and not enough at the same time. You weren’t sure you could go on but you were certain that you couldn’t stop. You wanted more. You wanted everything.

And luckily for you, Billy was just getting started.

“You good?” He asked, his fingers brushing sweat slicked  hair away from your brow.

“Yeah,” you answered breathlessly, too overcome to even force a smile. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” he answered, “do you want to keep going?”

“Yeah.”

Billy smiled, kissing you softly, still moving slowly, waiting until your walls finally stopped trembling so much.

He gripped your leg, his hand behind your knee, pulling it upwards, opening you to him, while his other hand reached over you to grip the headboard. For a second he paused, looking down at you, waiting for permission. You bit your lip before nodding.

Nothing could have prepared you for the intensity of what followed. He pulled back slowly before plunging his thick cock into you again, deeper than before, making you realise that you hadn’t taken all of him before then. You let out an incomprehensible cry as you felt his tip graze your cervix, the sensation causing you to clench around him.

Looking down between your bodies, you watched as he started to fuck you, his hips setting a relentless pace, his grip on the headboard helping his powerful movements as he pushed you down into the mattress with each thrust. You felt out of control. No, you felt like you were giving control to Billy, letting him have it because you knew that was what he needed.

“Look at me,” he demanded, sounding just as breathless as you were.

Your eyes found his, and that sight alone was almost enough to make you come. His jaw was clenched and his unblinking eyes were watching every flicker of emotion that passed your face. He was looking at you like there was nothing else in the world, like he was committing every second of this to memory and leaving you feeling more wanted than you ever had.

“My hummingbird,” he groaned, “I’ll never let you go.”

You couldn’t answer, not when every rough, rapid-fire thrust of his hips was forcing moan after moan from you. 

Your hands slipped down his back over cold, sweat-slicked skin, right the way down until your fingers were gripping his buttocks, pressing your fingernails into his flesh. That only seemed to spur him on, moving faster, harder, claiming you with every shift of his hips.

“I want to feel you come again,” he told you.

This time you tried to hold back, fighting every urge that told you to give into the pleasure, wanting it to last, wanting Billy to keep fucking you into the mattress. But then you felt his hand on your throat, just beneath your chin, not squeezing, but gripping tight enough to get your full atention.

“I said I want to feel you come,” his voice almost became a growl, his fingers tentatively tightening their grip on your throat.

You couldn’t deny him. You don't want to, not when you were completely at his mercy. This sudden escalation should have scared you, but some part of you trusted him, some part of you was enjoying this and was desperate for more. Finally, there was no doubt in your mind that he wanted this, wanted you.

Your head fell back as the first wave of your orgasm crashed over you, his fingers gripping tighter as he continued to drive his cock into you. You swore and cried out his name, over and over as he forced you through the most intense climax of your life. Your vision went white and Billy kept going until you couldn’t take any more.

He pulled out suddenly, leaving your body desperately clenching and grasping around nothing, feeling unbearably empty. Your whole body shuddered with the intensity of it all, and Billy just watched as you fell apart for him. It seemed to go on and on, your body shaking uncontrollably, your eyes refusing to focus. You felt starved for touch, and even though you were falling apart, you felt needy and desperate for more than just the touch of his fingers on your throat.

Billy didn’t move until the worst of the tremors had subsided, pulling his hand from your throat as he lowered himself over you again. His lips pressed against yours in a chaste and gentle kiss, a tenderness in his eyes, as he slowly sank his cock back into your sensitive pussy. 

This time his movements were gentle, allowing you to really enjoy the feel of him inside you. Your fingers slipped through his hair and even though he was being so gentle now, you still felt tender and overwhelmed. It felt like something had broken inside of you, like he’d managed to fuck your head empty, and now all you could think about was him and how good it felt everytime he filled you with his cock.

His hands framed your face, holding you as he kissed you, and it felt like everything had been leading to this moment. Now that you’d both sated the urgent desires that had been building in you over the last few months, you could finally take your time with each other. 

You lost yourself in the gentle kiss, in the feeling of him loving you and not just fucking you, slowly climbing towards another orgasm and, this time, Billy seemed primed to join you. 

Towards the end, he started to pick up speed, his groans stacking, his face buried against your neck.

“Come, hummingbird,” he grunted.

The moment you let go, you felt him start to pulse inside you, the sensation causing you to shiver. He gave a couple more thrusts before finally stilling deep inside you, groaning against your neck as his orgasm gripped him.

When you’d pictured sex with Billy, this was not how it had played out, this was not how you saw it ending. You felt boneless, completely overwhelmed and exhausted. For a few moments you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. And, when he finally pulled out, you felt the telltale trickle of cum between your thighs.

For the next couple of hours he held you. Neither of you spoke, both having said so much already. You drifted in and out of sleep, always waking to find him holding you securely, his cold body pressed to your back. 

You were half-asleep when you felt his fingers between your legs, parting your folds and guiding his cock into you. Your back arched against his chest as he started to fuck you from behind, letting out a soft moan as he teased your clit. His free hand gripped your chin, turning your head so he could kiss you, slipping his tongue between your lips before you could think to say anything.

His movements started off slow and sensual, letting you enjoy the sensations of him moving inside you and the way your body stretched to accommodate him. You still felt tender from earlier but any discomfort was quickly forgotten.

“Fuck, hummingbird,” he muttered against your lips, “your tight little pussy takes me so well...”

“Billy,” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut, still exhausted but wanting more.

“I’ll never get over the way you grip my cock. It’s like you were made just for me,” he continued in that low, seductive mutter. “Can you feel it?

“Yes,” you whined as your hand awkwardly reached behind you to settle on his hip, wanting to touch him.

It stayed like that for a few long minutes, Billy taking his time with you, smiling at every gasp and moan he managed to pull from you.

Then, without warning, he started to rut into you, his movements becoming desperate and sloppy until you felt him twitch and pulse inside you. You started to shift your hips, clumsily riding him as he spilled inside you. Realising that you hadn’t come, he resumed teasing your clit and groaned in your ear.

“Come for me, hummingbird,” he pleaded and you soon did as you were asked.

“I love you,” you moaned, turning to press your face into the pillow as your body succumbed to the pleasure coursing through it.

All Billy gave was a hum in response. There was no question in your mind that he’d heard those three little words, even as his body shivered behind you, and he lost himself in his own pleasure. After everything, you didn’t expect to hear it back, you didn’t expect him to confess more than he already had. You just wanted him to know.

You let out a soft whine as he pulled out, too exhausted to move or lift your head again, your eyes closing. Billy pulled you tight against him and held you there until you fell asleep again.

The next time you woke, it was to Billy getting out of bed. You watched him stroll into his walk-in wardrobe and he didn’t notice you were awake until he returned with a suit and shirt.

“I’m really sorry,” he told you softly, “I have to go in to work for a few hours, Frank’ll kill me if I don’t, but you can stay in here and rest and I’ll see you when I get home?” 

There was something in his voice that almost made it feel like he was asking your permission, like he didn’t know how you were going to react. Honestly, you weren’t sure how you wanted to react; you’d just spend the afternoon having the most earth-shattering sex of your life, and now he needed to go to work.

“Okay,” you muttered sleepily, knowing you couldn’t keep him from his job, not after all the time he’d already lost.

You watched as he headed into his bathroom and you listened as he took a quick shower before emerging dressed and ready to go. If you had been so tired you would have appreciated the sight of him in his light grey suit, looking devilishly handsome. Instead you could barely lift your head when he kissed you goodbye.

Around half an hour after he left, you managed to get up and return to your rooms. You took a long shower, exhausted but unable to keep your mind from racing over everything that had happened and what that meant going forward.

Everything he’d said, the way he’d looked at you when you were together; it was too much. It played over and over in your head until it became deafening in the silence of the penthouse. He’d been right about everything. You suddenly understood why he’d tried so hard to keep some distance between you, why he’d never wanted anything beyond the physical. You knew that losing you to illness or old age would kill him.

And you loved him far too much to put him through that.

You were left with only one option; hurt him now to save him from more pain later.

(Or maybe it wasn’t that at all, maybe you were just scared that he was going to hurt you again. As much as you hated yourself for your little admission of love during sex, it still caused your stomach to knot thinking about how he hadn’t said it back. What if he never said it?)

It wasn’t long before you found yourself by the intercom again, pressing the button, waiting for a response and, when you finally heard Lissa’s voice...

“I need my things, I want to leave...”

End Note : 😅😅😅😅 like I said last week 'trust me, I have a plan'. At least they actually got to fuck this time 😅 Also, just as a potential warning, I'm not 100% sure if next weeks chapter will be on time; I'm away for a couple of days and my birthday is next weekend. I have already started chapter 16 though so I will try to get it posted at the normal time. If I can't get it done, I'll post something to let people know and probably try to post two chapters the week after.

Also, I now have an AO3 account (it's hungermakesmonsters) I'm planning on posting things there as well as here but things will probably always end up on tumblr first, so don't feel like you have to follow me there or anything. As always, thanks for all your support and the likes/screaming in the comments/reblogs! Have a great weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

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@snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad

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Ooo this is so cute, and I love watching the brothers stumble over their lies lol.

Side note, I was so thrown off by Dean being called blonde LOL, I've always thought of him having light brown hair and I did have a moment of huh? Which isn't a writing issue at all, it just didn't connect in my brain 😭😭

This was great, and I can't wait to see more!!

Always Waiting for You [1: First Meetings]

Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!Reader Word Count: 4.4k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; fluff, pining, friends to lovers, slow burn, angst, canon typical violence, eventual smut, use of pet names & nicknames (no y/n)

Series Summary: In the beginning you'd been content helping your grandmother run Springwood, the quaint bed and breakfast she had owned and ran for most of her life. You'd grown a fondness for Springwood over the years, already having long since known your grandmother wished to eventually pass the bed and breakfast onto you. But the more you got to know the curious Winchester brothers every time they sporadically turned up to rent rooms, the more you'd begun to long for a little something more in your life. You soon found yourself becoming close friends with the brothers–even after finding out what they really did–and you easily found yourself falling for Sam. But the pair of you only ever remained close friends as the years passed by despite you always secretly holding onto the hope that he'd someday finally stop trying to protect you from himself and his life.

Tag List: @cheshirecat484 @stoneyggirl2

a/n: While Reader will not have a physical description or a name (other than nicknames and pet names), she will have a bit of a family history for the sake of the plot (since this is a long fic). I still like to keep things fairly vague so that readers can either pretend it's their family or pretend Reader was adopted at birth and are still able to insert themselves into the story if they want. With that out of the way, enjoy part one! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Hunched over the sink as the bright, late morning sun filtered in through the kitchen windows, you scrubbed at the pan you’d used earlier to make breakfast for the guests currently staying at Springwood. Omelets had been on today's menu and they had taken you a good portion of the morning to prepare and cook despite only having three guests who had stayed at the bed and breakfast this weekend. Though you didn't necessarily mind the extra work because you usually rose early in the morning everyday, always unable to fall back asleep because you felt a little restless. Which was why you often welcomed any opportunity to keep yourself busy at Springwood.

Focused on your current task, the warm, soapy water splashing over your bare hands, you were too deep in your thoughts to catch the sound of soft footsteps shuffling towards you over the scrubbing of your sponge. It wasn't until you'd heard a voice behind you that you realized you were no longer alone in the bed and breakfast’s kitchen.

“Relax there, honey bee, or you’re going to wear that poor pan out.”

Startled at your grandmother’s unexpected presence, you jumped at your place in front of the sink. In your surprise you had dropped the pan into the soapy water with a loud, messy splash. Looking over your shoulder, fresh soap bubbles now splattered across your face, you found your Nan grinning at you and shaking her head.

“You’re too uptight, bee,” she teased. “Always so in your head. I swear an elephant could sneak up on you sometimes.”

“Well you're certainly quieter than an elephant, Nan,” you countered, rubbing a forearm at the soap that had splattered on your face. “And I'm not entirely convinced you don't know some secret way to get around this place unnoticed.”

Your grandmother only smiled as she continued her way across the kitchen to you. Turning your attention back towards the pan you'd dropped in the sink, you picked it up along with your sponge and resumed your cleaning. 

“I could have taken care of the morning dishes, you know,” she told you. “You've been doing all the cooking and cleaning the past few months, honey bee. You're not leaving much for an old woman to tend to.”

You shot your grandmother a grin over your shoulder. “That's the point, Nan,” you replied. “You've done plenty over the years here. I'm completely capable of handling the load. It isn't like we're constantly booked to capacity or anything.”

“Well, no,” she agreed slowly. “But little bee, when was the last time you had a day off?”

Switching on the faucet, you rinsed the large pan underneath the spray. Watching the soap bubbles disperse, you shrugged at your grandmother’s question.

“I don't know,” you answered her, reaching over and setting the pan into the drying rack on the counter. “It's been awhile, I suppose.”

“Don't you think you should get out of this place more often?” she asked. “Spend some time with your friends? Maybe go on a date every once and awhile?”

Pausing mid-scrub of a plate, you turned and shot your grandmother a pointed look. “Nan, you ask me this like clockwork almost every four months,” you pointed out. “I'm fine . I actually like working here, you know. The guests keep me busy over the weekends, and the gardening, cleaning, and paperwork keeps me busy during the week. And in my downtime,” you continued, focusing back on washing the plate in your hands, “I've got plenty of books to read.”

Your grandmother padded over to the counter beside you, one of her hands raising up to lightly rest along your shoulder. Pausing once more when you felt her give you a gentle squeeze, you glanced down at her hand before your eyes eventually met hers.

“Don't you ever get lonely, honey bee?” she asked. “It's just the two of us here.”

“Well there's also the Johnsons,” you joked. “At least until morning check-out, that is.”

Nan released your shoulder, her hand playfully slapping your arm as she shot you a look. Though you could see the smile she was fighting back, the corners of her lips twitching.

“They've already checked out,” she told you. “Just before I came in here to find you. But you know what I meant, bee. You're far too young and full of life to be holed up in this place with me all the time. You should find yourself a nice man.”

Rolling your eyes, you opened your mouth to protest, but your grandmother quickly cut you off.

“Or a nice woman,” she amended with a cheeky grin. “You know I don't judge.”

Shaking your head, you focused on rinsing off the plate in your hands before adding it to the drying rack beside the pan. “You worry too much about me,” you told her. 

“Someone ought to,” she replied. “I'm an old woman. Someday I won't be around and I don't want to think about you being here all by yourself.”

“Then I'll get a cat,” you teased. “And then I won't–”

The sound of a loud, growling engine roared over your words, drowning them out. At first the noise was just a distant rumble, your brows drawing together as you tried to place where the sound was coming from. But it didn’t take long for you to realize that the sound was quickly growing nearer, clearly coming from a car making its way up the winding drive to Springwood. 

Almost simultaneously, both you and your grandmother leaned over the counter towards the kitchen window above the sink, peering out at what you could see of the driveway. It was a moment before you spotted a black muscle car through the trees that lined the long drive. The pair of you silently watched as the car gradually made its way along the path, heading to the front of the bed and breakfast. 

“Well you don't see that every day,” Nan muttered, her voice just audible over the roar of the car’s engine. “Not ‘round here at least.”

“No,” you whispered, transfixed by the car glinting in the sunlight as it drove, the plate in your hands temporarily forgotten, “you certainly don't.”

“Wasn't expecting anyone to be checking in on a Sunday, either,” Nan said. “Suppose whoever that is will keep us busy for a bit.”

After a moment, the car disappeared from view and you remembered the plate in your hands. Focusing back on it, you turned the faucet on and ran it under the warm spray. As the soap washed away, you felt your grandmother lightly pat your shoulder. At the feel of her touch, you looked over at her in time to see her turning and making her way out of the kitchen.

“I'll go greet our new guests, bee,” Nan called back to you. “Maybe you can come help them find their rooms?”

“Yeah,” you replied. “I'll just wash up these last few dishes from this morning and I'll be right out.”

After your grandmother had disappeared, you’d spent the next couple of minutes cleaning the last few pieces of silverware, your hands moving quickly and efficiently. Once finished, you dried off your hands and hurried out of the kitchen, making your way down the long hall towards Springwood's foyer in order to help Nan with the new guests that had just arrived.

As you headed down the hallway, passing by the entrances to Springwood's dining room, library, and sitting room, you'd expected to overhear your Nan talking to an older couple. Considering the type of car you'd seen pull up, you found yourself surprised when it sounded like the voices of two younger men speaking with her. When you grew near enough to the bed and breakfast’s foyer, you couldn't help but overhear their conversation. 

“...such a nice little town,” Nan had been saying. “I hope you'll be enjoying your stay here.”

“Oh, I'm sure we will,” a man's voice politely replied. “Though we'll probably be spending most of our time in the town over. In Arlington.”

“Arlington?” Nan repeated in mild surprise. “What's in Arlington that would have brought the pair of you boys out this way?”

Stepping out of the hall and through the archway that led into Springwood's entrance, you caught sight of the two young men who were currently checking into the bed and breakfast. Abruptly stopping short the second you actually saw them, you were taken by surprise as a soft gasp slipped out of you. Standing frozen in the doorway, your feet rooted to the spot, you saw both men’s attention shift from your grandmother behind the front desk and over to you. The shorter of the pair’s gaze quickly began to size you up, his eyes scanning you over from top to bottom. Beside him, the taller one sent you a friendly smile in greeting. You couldn’t help but notice something warm and comforting in the way his eyes held your own, something about him easily drawing a smile from you back at him.

These men looked absolutely nothing like the usual guests who stayed at the bed and breakfast. For starters, they were incredibly attractive–which felt like a vast understatement. They looked as if they'd walked straight out of some magazine advertisement even if they weren't dressed in anything out of the ordinary. And besides how noticeably handsome they were, they also weren't here with a family, nor were they an older couple clearly in their retirement years enjoying their free time traveling. Those were generally the type of guests you had staying at the bed and breakfast regularly, not insanely attractive young men. You'd also thought it was strange that they'd shown up at the end of the weekend when Springwood's guests typically checked in at the beginning of one. You found yourself instantly intrigued by the pair of these strangers, wondering why they'd chosen to stop here and not at the Hilton that was twenty minutes away in Bridgeport–a significantly larger and more exciting city. 

“We're here for work, actually,” the one with cropped blonde hair answered, focusing back on your Nan. “It tends to take us to all sorts of places across the country.”

“Oh does it?” Nan said conversationally, sliding the keys to their rooms across the desk. “And what is it you gentlemen do for work?”

“We uh,” the blonde began, pausing to clear his throat. “We–we work for a magazine.”

“A small travel magazine,” the one with slightly longer dark hair quickly added. “It’s uh, it’s not a very big magazine. At the moment, at least.”

One of your brows quirked up onto your forehead at the way in which they'd responded. They hadn't sounded so sure of themselves in their answer. Almost as if it was a lie. But why would they have lied about their job? And why would a travel magazine be interested in anything out in a small town like Pine Ridge or Arlington?

As you found yourself growing even more curious about the men and their strange response, you couldn’t help but continue to stare at the taller of the pair. He towered over the other man beside him, a seemingly genuine smile on his face as he focused on Nan. Your fingers itched to brush away some of the dark wisps of hair falling into his eyes the longer you studied him. You also couldn’t help but notice the way his navy tee-shirt clung to the front of his chest beneath the baggy, brown jacket he was wearing. 

You couldn't quite place what it was about him, but you found yourself struggling to tear your eyes away from him the longer the pair stood there. Maybe it was the friendly smile he'd initially sent you accompanied by the set of adorable dimples on his cheeks, or maybe it was the unexpected gentleness that seemed to be radiating from him despite the other man's self-assured–and possibly arrogant–demeanor. Either way, your eyes were oddly drawn to him.

Until he glanced back at you when you heard your Nan give them your name in way of introduction and he'd caught you staring. 

Smiling sheepishly back at the pair of them, you forced yourself to straighten your posture and clear your throat. You were supposed to be a professional when it came to working with the guests after all–even if they were two painfully attractive guests. You should have known better than to be staring.

But you could certainly act normal. Because you didn't have a choice not to, not with them staying here. Especially not if they actually did work with a travel magazine. You didn’t need a bad review of Springwood getting around because it would kill the business.

“My granddaughter here can show you gentlemen to your rooms,” Nan's voice said, breaking through your thoughts. 

She turned and sent you a smile from behind the front desk, but the mischievous glint in her eyes didn't escape your notice. No doubt you'd get an earful later about how attractive they were and whether she thought they were possible suitors instead of just traveling guests who'd be gone from your lives before you knew it. A conversation you were already not looking forward to later.

“Though maybe first you'd like to show them around Springwood a little, honey bee?” she suggested. “You know, let them get acquainted with the place.”

With a sigh, you plastered your most professional smile onto your face before waving a hand at the two men. “If you'd like to follow me this way, I can certainly give you both a brief tour of Springwood’s main floor before showing you to your rooms.”

The blonde suddenly grinned wide at you, the cocky confidence you’d picked up on from him rolling off of him in waves now. The intensity of it had you biting your tongue and refraining from making a comment as you continued to keep your practiced, professional smile on your face instead. Though you were still fighting to keep your eyes from returning to the taller and more attractive of the two. 

“We'd certainly love to follow you,” the blonde replied, shooting the man next to him a little smirk. “Wouldn't we?”

Your expression faltered at his tone, your head tilting a bit to the side. It had sounded as if there had been something else intended in his words, a double meaning that almost seemed inappropriate, though you weren't entirely sure. But your suspicions were confirmed when the brunette roughly elbowed the blonde in return, sending you an awkward smile as he did. 

“Sure, we'd love a tour,” the brunette said. “That sounds like it’d be helpful.”

Eyes narrowing, you curiously studied them for a second longer, taking in the wounded look on the blonde's face as he rubbed his side. Beside him, the taller one was shooting you a strained, polite smile. Choosing to ignore the question dying to spring out of you, you turned and headed back into the hallway. Behind you, you heard the heavy footsteps of both men following after you. 

“So down this hallway,” you began as you walked, “you'll find a lot of the main areas our guests enjoy here during their stay at Springwood. The first room to your right is our sitting room, which is also where you'll find the staircase that leads us up to Springwood's second floor, and that’s where our guest bedrooms are located.”

You came to a stop beside the entrance to the biggest room on the main floor of the bed and breakfast, gesturing a hand at the doorway that led into the sitting room. Both men glanced inside, examining the space that was filled with a few cozy sofas situated around a fireplace. 

“There's also a door that leads to the back garden just through this room,” you told them. “It tends to be a nice, peaceful spot where guests often enjoy doing some work or catching up on reading. Or even having a morning coffee. Though,” you continued, turning and heading further down the hall as the men followed behind you, “we also have a small library that some guests like to use as a quiet place to focus on work while they’re here, too.”

Stopping in front of the next room on your left, you once more gestured inside. This room was one you personally spent a lot of time in yourself when the bed and breakfast was empty. Usually you would curl up on the sofa with a book and a blanket, spending rainy days reading when you couldn't enjoy the garden outside.

“You both might find the space useful if you're here for work and want to get out of your room for a bit,” you told them. “There's a couple of desks inside and a printer you’re welcome to use. It's pretty quiet in there. And then further down this way,” you said, turning and leading the pair a few more steps down the hall as you continued on your tour, “is a place you may want to remember. In here is Springwood's dining room.”

You came to a stop in front of the dining room on your right, watching as both men once more craned their necks for a look inside. It was a fairly large room with a few different sized tables meant to accommodate couples and families alike, though when it wasn't tourist season–like right now–it was often depressingly empty and quiet. 

“We serve breakfast here between eight and ten every morning,” you informed them. “There's a daily breakfast menu in your rooms, but when it's off season for tourists during winter and spring months, I'm open to taking suggestions for other things. Given enough time to prepare, of course.”

The blonde turned his attention back on you, a devilish grin lighting up his face. “Open to suggestions, huh?” he asked, his tone once again hinting at something else. “I like the sound of that. I could definitely think of a few things I'd like to suggest, you know?”

Both of your brows slowly rose upwards as you stared back at him in disbelief, unsure how this man could be making such blatant innuendos if he was here on business and representing a travel magazine. Especially with his colleague standing right next to him. Something certainly didn't seem to add up with their story, not with their strange behavior since you'd met them. But before you could say anything, you saw the taller of the pair once more sharply elbow him in the side.

“Dean,” he hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

You noticed the way the blonde shot the other an insulted look, something far too familiar passing between them to just be colleagues. They definitely didn't seem to be acting like a pair of professionals on a business trip. 

With an awkward chuckle, the brunette sent a nervous smile back at you. “Sorry about my brother,” he apologized, “he has a habit of saying whatever pops into his head without thinking first. It’s something he should probably work on.”

“So you're…brothers?” you asked, eyes jumping between the both of them. “Brothers that happen to both work at the same travel magazine? That's interesting.”

At your comment, the pair abruptly exchanged a look with each other. Wordlessly you watched them, carefully scrutinizing the way it appeared as if they were silently communicating with each other. You caught how the blonde roughly shook his head at his brother, the movement small but just enough for you to have picked up on it. The brunette's eyes had gone a bit wide in response before they seemed to be pointedly glaring back at him.

“What travel magazine did you say you two worked for?” you questioned, interrupting whatever moment they were having. “And I also don't think I ever caught either of your names now that I think about it.”

The pair broke out of their silent conversation, both of them shifting awkwardly on their feet as their attention returned to you. You couldn’t help but notice that the smiles on their faces once more looked oddly strained. Despite knowing better than to pry too hard with guests, you found yourself desperately wanting to learn more about them and what it seemed like they were hiding. 

“We are brothers,” the brunette confirmed. He raised a hand, pointing to himself as he said, “I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean.” 

He gestured over his shoulder at the shorter blonde, your eyes following his hand’s movements. Dean was standing there shooting you what you presumed was meant to be a charming smile, but you weren’t remotely charmed by it. 

“We both work for, uh–” Sam continued, though he quickly broke off.

Gaze drawn back towards him when he’d spoken, you watched as his face scrunched up as if he was in thought. Beside him, Dean let out a faint chuckle, lightly slapping his brother on the arm.

“We work for a magazine called The Open Road , but my brother here is new. I just recently got him a position,” Dean’s smooth voice explained. “He often forgets the name of the magazine because he’s just…so new. You know?” He turned and shot his brother a look. “Isn’t that right, Sammy?”

Sam forced a smile onto his face as he nodded, the gesture looking a little stiff. “Right,” he agreed. “I’m uh, I’m quite new to the magazine. This is actually my first assignment. So it's…all new.”

“Oh,” you replied slowly, still scrutinizing them carefully as you made a mental note to look into the magazine later. “That must be nice. I imagine getting to travel for work is exciting.”

Dean laughed lightly, something glinting in his eyes as he did. “You have no idea how right you are.”

Ignoring the strangeness of his comment, you decided to focus on finishing the tour instead of being too noticeably nosey. They’d probably stop giving up too much truthful information so freely if you didn’t. 

You took a moment to point out the first floor restrooms across from the dining room before leading the men back down the hallway from which you’d initially come. As you led them towards the sitting room, you overheard them sharing some hushed words behind you, but they were speaking far too quietly for you to be able to really make out anything they were saying. And admittedly, you’d been trying.

“So your rooms are just upstairs,” you explained as you approached the staircase. “And once we reach those that’ll basically conclude our little tour.”

Making your way up the stairs, one hand trailing along the banister, you noticed both men were now quiet behind you. When you finally reached the landing on the second floor, you found yourself a little disappointed that the brief tour was already over because it meant you had no more reason to continue to try to unravel whatever mystery seemed to be hanging over these brothers. And it certainly seemed like there was something more to them than what they were letting on. 

“These will be your rooms for your stay with us at Springwood,” you said, pointing out the two doors to your right marked with a number one and two. “If there’s anything else I can help you both with during your stay, please don’t hesitate to ask. My grandmother and I are always somewhere on the property.”

“Thank you so much for the tour,” Sam told you, adjusting the duffle bag on his shoulder. “But I think you’ve been quite helpful enough already. We won't take up anymore of your time this morning.”

You sent him a polite smile and a single nod before turning, but you’d only managed to take a single step before you heard Dean call your name behind you. Immediately you stopped at the sound of his voice, glancing over your shoulder at him. 

“You said breakfast ended at ten,” he began, “and we’ve had a long drive. Is there anywhere you could recommend close by for us to grab some food? Either breakfast or lunch? We’re basically starving.” 

“Certainly,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as another opportunity to pry more answers out of them seemed to present itself. “There’s Rosie’s Diner a couple of miles down the road in Pine Ridge’s downtown,” you said, turning back towards them. “There's also a couple of fast food joints out that way, too. And Cast Iron Cafe. Or if you’re both not interested in driving anymore this morning,” you continued, trying not to sound overeager, “I’d be more than happy to scramble up some eggs and fry up some bacon?”

Sam held up a hand immediately, shaking his head. “Oh no,” he said, “we couldn’t possibly ask you to make us breakfast. Especially after hours.”

Dean’s head snapped to the side instantly. “Dude!” he exclaimed. “She offered.”

“Really, it’s no trouble,” you assured the pair. “Like I said, it’s off season for tourists right now. So both of you are our only guests at the moment. Honestly you’d be giving me something to do.”

“Eggs and bacon sounds perfect,” Dean replied, a big grin on his face. “And then I could use a nap. A long, long nap after all of that driving.”

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother before he shot you an apologetic look. You couldn’t help but admire the warmth in his eyes as he did, but then you quickly mentally scolded yourself for even thinking that. He was a guest, after all. Just a guest. One who’d be gone before you knew it, even if he and his brother were piquing your interest with their unusualness. Because that was all it was drawing you to him–their unusualness.

“I’ll let you both get settled in then,” you said, turning and beginning to make your way down the stairs. “If you head down to the dining room in about twenty minutes, I’ll have a couple of plates of food ready for you both.”

You were nearly halfway down the stairs when you overheard Dean behind you whispering to Sam, his voice just loud enough for you to catch what he’d said.

“Dude, this place is awesome,” he enthused. “We should definitely come back here.”

As you continued your way down the stairs, you couldn’t fight the growing, pleased smile on your lips, grateful they couldn’t see your face at the moment.

Saving this for later! <33

Fic Recs (Harry Potter Editon III)

All fics are fem!reader

Marvel One Two Three Harry Potter One Two Three Stranger Things One Two Three Four Five Specific Characters Tangerine Masterlist

Why Didn’t We Work Out? by @astonishment

Pairing: James Potter x Reader Summary: “James Potter had two girlfriends in his seventh yeat at Hogwarts. Y/N Y/L/N, who he dated for five months; and Lily Evans, who he dated afterwards. When he’s dared to call one of his exes, guess who’s number he dials…”

Morning Coffee by @thewriterghost

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x Reader Summary: “You bring morning coffee to the boys.” 

Not So Secret Admirer by @kquil (Part Two)

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Summary: “you can't hide your adoration for remus lupin and often end up staring at him, good thing he thinks you're really cute”

With All Due Respect by @writesowhatnext

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Summary: “Remus and the reader are best friends and that’s it and it’s so absurd that Remus keeps insisting that they’re anything more, right?”

Never His by @weasleykisses

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Summary: “when James needs help asking out Lily, he enlists you to play his fake girlfriend to make her jealous. In the process, you end up making Remus Lupin green with envy.”

Dealbreaker by @luveline

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader Summary: “you work in a bookstore. sirius keeps finding reasons to need books. ”

Pretty Boy by @alwaysmoncheri

Pairing: James Potter x Reader Summary: “you think james is really pretty—unfortunately for you, sirius notices and decides to take matters into his own hands”

Dizzy by @moonstruckme

Pairing: Roommate!James Potter x Reader Summary: “when your roommate James comes home after a night out with his friends, he's acting even more affectionate than usual”

Coach P. by @soupandsimple

Pairing: Coach!James Potter x Teacher!Reader Summary: “gym coach James being called out by a student for often visiting you during their art class”

Flirtation by @moonstruckme

Pairing: Sirius Black x Shy!Reader Summary: “when Sirius won't stop tormenting you with pet names, you think to take revenge, but he doesn't react as you expected”

Friendly reminder with DareDevil Born Again coming to us…

MATT MURDOCK IS BLIND, HE’S NOT FUCKING FAKING IT.

Matt’s other senses are heightened, but he is in fact blind. Every time a new seasons about to roll through we see the he’s faking it posts :/

you guys know you can get USB connectable CD, dvd, and blu-ray players right. and you can buy external hard drives with crazy amounts of space for an amount of money that would make the average person from 2009’s head explode bc of how cheap it is. and if you do this and get ripping software such as handbrake for CDs and DVDs and makeMKV for blurays you can both own a physical copy of whatever media you want and make it accessible to yourself no matter where you are. do you guys know this

Mc is so adorable, and real, if Daredevil isn't going to fall I love with her, I gladly will??? She went all over the city for food, climbed up to a rooftop and just sat there! That's dedication 😭

Great chapter again! Love the awkwardness and unsureness, and Daredevil being very unreadable.

This is going to be such an amazing series!

Take Care Author <3

Finding You

Small Creatures, Chapter 2

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: Matt Murdock always assumed he’d never meet his soulmate. After all, who would want to end up stuck with a blind vigilante carrying enough baggage for a whole jet? Unfortunately for you both, his cursed love is closer than ever and determined to support him as his paradoxical life falls apart.

warnings:  minor swearing, misunderstandings, awkward meetings

a/n: there isn’t a ton of Matt in this chapter, but there will be MUCH more of him from here on out. We are running straight for the hurt, comfort, angst, and fluff of this story, y’all. As always, please reply and reblog! And a huge shout out to @zomtart for helping me create this AU!

w/c: 4.5k

You couldn’t shake the feeling of him. 

A tight coil of smoke, constantly twisted around your every limb. Your dreams were now hazy with clouds of ash, the bitter taste of charred organic material blanketing your tongue when you woke. 

On the surface, he was dangerous, filled with a rage that burned more intensely than any flame in this realm. You understood that it was meant to scare you, to create distance. But, you were drawn to it like a newly hatched moth–seeking its warmth and light, not shying away from its destructive power one bit. 

Whether your intense longing was due to your bond or simply a lack of self-preservation, you weren’t sure. 

Walking home after the Devil snatched you from the jaws of death, it all suddenly made sense. One of those “you have to feel it to believe it” kind of things, meeting your soulmate. Your steps were unsteady and too light, like your weight was constantly fluctuating as you moved, or you were being carried along by an external force. You felt thoroughly inebriated, oxytocin and dopamine saturating every cell.

With each wobbly pace home, your chest pulsed with clipped waves of pain, like you’d been bruised. But even the dull ache couldn’t ruin the pleasant floaty feeling carrying you back to your place. 

At points in your life, you’d heard musings. Of what it was like to be bonded with another. Though none of them had ever truly made sense until now.

You were torn, unsure of how to feel about it all. On one hand, knowing he existed was comforting. You weren’t crazy or damned or any other awful thing people sometimes said about marked souls. On the other, watching him creep away from you in terror was definitely a blow to your ego.

It was possible he’d had to go take care of something—there was never a dull night in the Kitchen—but given how your mark was radiating a concoction of doubt, shame, and another feeling you couldn’t quite place…it was probable he was truly not interested. You needed a clear answer, though. Whatever his decision was, you’d respect it, but you needed to be sure before giving up on him.

Therein lay the issue. How could you ask him for a clear answer when you didn’t even know his name? You had no idea where to begin looking for him, or if he could even be found.

And what would you say if you did find him? “Hi, you clearly want nothing to do with me but apparently we are destined to mean something to each other so here’s my card”?

What if he was in love with someone else? He could be married, have a family..oh god what if he was married–

A familiar voice called your name, snapping you out of the trance you’d apparently been in. Ripping your gaze away from where it had been listlessly staring at your coffee cup, you met your friend’s amused look with a sheepish laugh.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

Imogen shook her head fondly, clearly not actually upset that you’d zoned out.

“Nothing more important than whatever’s on your mind. Spill,” She giggled, poking your arm with a manicured finger.

You groaned, pulling your exposed limb out of harm’s way. “Midge, it's nothing–”

“It's not!” Crossing her arms, the woman across from you gave her best attempt at a stern mom stare. “You've been out of it all day. We've been friends long enough for me to recognize when you're stuck in your head. So tell me, what's got you in such a funk?”

Sighing, you dropped your chin to your chest, overwhelmed with indecision. It's not that you expected Imogen to react badly, but how much could you tell her? I mean, he was a vigilante, a criminal. Would she truly be ok with that?

Taking a leap, you allowed her to clutch your hand, your nerves settling slightly under her encouraging gaze. “I may have met my soulmate last night?”

As if an earthquake had suddenly struck Manhattan, the two flimsy cups standing on the table quivered as the table vibrated beneath them. Your friend had erupted with joyful movement, kicking her feet and gripping your hand painfully tight as she shrieked gleefully.

“WHAT!? WHEN? HOW? Tell me EVERYTHING!” Eyes boring into yours with more enthusiasm than you'd ever held for something, Imogen beamed at you.

As much as you appreciated her zest for life, the other patrons in the small cafe were glaring daggers in your direction, apparently not willing to risk hearing loss for a stranger's happiness. Sending them an apologetic glance, you lay your free hand on Imogen's.

“Hun, I love you, but people are staring.” You chuckled, flicking your eyes to the annoyed regulars behind her.

“Alright, alright, I'll try to contain myself,“ Midge rolled her eyes. ”What's his name? Is he cute? Oh gosh, I shouldn't have assumed it was a he–”

Shaking your head, you patted her hand reassuringly. “'He' would presumably be correct. He sort of..helped me out last night.”

“Helped you out how?”

Deciding on an altered version of events, you left out the part about him donning a mask and saving you from certain death. Two birds, one stone in terms of things Midge would worry over.

“I was trying to snap a picture on the roof of Ink 48. He saw me struggling to get in position and..spotted me? I guess? When we touched...god, Midge. You weren't kidding.” Your voice was breathy, your heart pounding as you thought of his beautiful smirk, his warm hands.

“It's..indescribable.” She agreed, her smile softening as she studied your love struck expression. “What's his name?”

Averting your eyes, you felt a haze of lingering doubt settle over you. “See, that's why I've been out of it. We connected, forged a bond or whatever you want to call it, and he ran away. I..didn't get a good look at his face and I have no clue what his name was so I'm kind of at a loss.”

“Oh sweetie,” Midge pouted, dragging her chair closer to wrap an arm around you. “No leads? He wasn't wearing anything with a company emblem or an ID badge?”

“No, and honestly..I don't even know if he'd want me to track him down. I mean, he ran, Midge. Full on beelined outta there like I had the plague. He could be married? Or just not interested?” Your voice trailed off. You were at a loss, that much was clear.

“Or!” Imogen interjected, her voice optimistic as always. “He was surprised and he panicked. I think we both can relate to that.”

You raised a brow at her in disbelief, but Imogen was undeterred. “Babes, it's a big thing, finding your soulmate. Cut the poor guy some slack! He's probably nervous just like you are.”

“It's possible.” You relented. “But I still don't know if I'll ever see him again.”

“You will.” Your all-too-positive companion shrugged, withdrawing her hand from your hold. “You're way too capable and determined not to.”

“You're too sweet to me.” You scoffed, heat fluttering in your cheeks.

“I'm just being honest!” She giggled, tossing back the rest of her coffee. “C'mon.”

“Where are we going?” You laughed, draining your coffee so Midge could toss both cups in a nearby waste basket.

“You're going to show me exactly where you met him and we'll see if there are any cameras or other things we could use to track him down.”

Steps faltering, you blinked in shock before scurrying after your friend who was confidently traipsing out of the store.

Shifting the strained handle into the crook of your elbow, you angled your body so the weight of the large bag bumped against the flesh of your hip, rather than knocking into unsuspecting strangers. One solid kick from a passerby and the carefully stacked contents would topple–either into the street or onto you. Regardless, you’d have a mess on your hands and you’d be out a solid chunk of money. Take out wasn’t cheap these days, dammit.

You just hoped the hefty bill would be worth it.

It had been almost a week since your run-in with your soulmate and you were still mostly at a loss. Despite Imogen's confidence and your combined dedication, you were no closer to knowing his identity. Your failure to find anything definitive at the scene was partially because nothing had been left behind and almost entirely because Midge was still under the impression you were looking for a standard nine-to-fiver.

You weren't quite sure how to come clean, not when she'd spent so much of her free time over the past few days accompanying you to the same street, scouring the crowds for anyone who might look familiar to you. But, until you knew whether he wanted you in his life, you were hesitant to confess  the one thing you did know about him.

After the third day of returning home empty-handed, you'd cut your friend loose. Telling her you were going to regroup before trying again. As lovely as Midge was, she was as clueless about the Devil's whereabouts as you were.

The internet, however, was chock full of fanatics and critics overly willing to share the opinions they had about him. In general, the city appreciated his efforts--the local message boards and blogs brimming with praise and gratitude. You couldn't help but feel a gleaming rush of pride with every compliment, appreciating the citizens for recognizing the man's work.

Of course, there were negative threads too. Calling Daredevil a threat and a coward. Screaming at him to give himself up, leave the crime-fighting to law enforcement. At first, you'd engaged with those users too. But, after one argument sparked so much rage you almost shattered your laptop screen in an effort to remove yourself from the fight, you began to ignore anything less than positive. Whether because of your bond or your genuine admiration for your soulmate, the disapproval created a primal urge to protect, to defend. Standing by wasn't an option, so you put blinders on to filter out the objections.

As a whole, however, the online forums were helpful. There were a few sites dedicated to tracking local vigilante news, allowing you to assemble a makeshift map of places the Devil frequented. You'd reached out to a few of the more active users to see if they could help you, but pretty quickly realized that the claim 'daredevil is my soulmate' was probably more common than you'd originally thought. So, for now, your feeble, hand drawn maps would have to do.

Unsurprisingly, Daredevil seemed to have a flexible schedule that mostly revolved around where he was needed. The idea of staging a crime, or intentionally putting yourself in harm's way did occur to you, but you weren't that desperate quite yet. And you doubted that would be well-received. Instead, you categorized locations by number of sightings and planned to work your way down the list.

Tonight, you were starting just before sunset for the roof of a building near the Clinton Community Garden. According to your limited research, the crimson-clad vigilante was often spotted between 47th and 50th street, around the intersections of 9th or 10th. A decent area to start with for sure, given that it was pretty central within Hell's Kitchen, and 10th street was a haven for petty crime.

Two failed attempts to buzz into apartment buildings later, someone finally answered your request over the intercom, unlatching the door for you. Dashing up the stairs two at a time, your stomach was in knots by the time you found a roof access door. Your every breath was measured, laden with doubt in the wake of so many possibilities. Pulse racing, you gulped in the humid evening air, bending at the waist to allow blood flow to your brain.

You'd been so nervous to confront him, you'd neglected your own needs. Dehydration and low blood sugar were only exacerbated by this obnoxious heat. Cringing at the realization, you paced to the edge of the roof, settling into a cross-legged position with your back against the squabby brick perimeter. With the back of your hand, you swiped at the beading sweat along your brow, doing your best to mop it up.

Now for the fun part. Waiting.

Patience was a virtue that didn't always come easily to you. Especially when your anxiety stepped up to the plate. Twiddling your thumbs, anticipating every possible thing that could go wrong only made time pass more slowly. And it wasn't as if there was a deadline you were inching towards.

Not a set one, at least. The food you'd brought wouldn't last forever, though you were hoping the thermal bag would keep it from spoiling too quickly. If it didn't, well, you'd feel pretty foolish for bruising your arm carrying the sizable thing around town.

Lifting the strap from where it was currently digging into your shoulder, you set it carefully on the ground, peeking inside to inspect the contents. Everything looked ok, thankfully. A bit banged up from the journey, but mostly unharmed and definitely just as tasty.

Relaxing into the prickly surface holding you upright, you scanned the skyline, admiring the wash of pinks and oranges slipping between skyscrapers. You hadn't wanted to tote your camera around in addition to all the food, but you were regretting that decision now. Somewhat remorsefully, you pulled a paperback book from an outside pocket on the tote. Imogen would be thrilled you were finally starting it.

The book was better than you'd expected. A historical fiction novel about the Nazi invasion in France–something you knew very little about. It managed to keep your attention for nearly 90 minutes, though you did take brief breaks to stretch and scan the horizon for a familiar figure.

As much as you wanted to stick it out, the food wouldn't last too much longer. Knee-deep in a mental quarrel with yourself about whether to give up for the night, your stomach dropped–yanked by an extreme force as if you were driving over a massive hill. It was intoxicating, thrilling and terrifying all at once.

Scrambling to your feet, you teetered on wobbly legs, nearly faceplanting on the concrete. All sense of balance had been ripped from you, as if the flat roof had been replaced with a trampoline, bouncing with every step you took. Before you could regain your bearings, a shadowy figure appeared at the opposite end of the roof.

His chin was angled down, mirrored fists clenched on either side of his broad, menacing stance. In the sliver of remaining sunlight, you could make out his sharp jawline and pink lips–your heart fluttering as they parted.

“You shouldn’t be up here.” He strode toward you, graceful and precise. Far more coordinated than you felt at the moment.

“Please,” You murmured, focus lost in the glow of fading light lining his body, a flexible halo around him. “Please, I-I just want to talk.”

“Are you sure you have time?” Stopping his approach about 10 feet from you, his mouth twitched with a smirk. You were surprised to sense humor in his words. “Seems like you might be late for your dinner plans.”

Chuckling weakly in response, your face flooded with heat. Something about his presence made your brain melt into soup. His confidence and cocky attitude stole the explanation right off your tongue, leaving you to stand there uselessly until he nodded to the rectangular bag lying at your feet.

“Oh, sorry, um,“ Scurrying for the shining handle, you pulled it into your arms, extending it out to him. ”I brought this for you actually.”

In a remote corner of your stomach, a tiny curl of something warm unwound. Surprise, then a much stronger sensation, not unlike fondness or gratitude. A mix of both perhaps?

“For me?” As he whispered, you couldn't help but smile. Those sudden emotions, they were his, not your own. The hesitant acceptance continued into his rasping voice.

“If you will accept it, then yes. As a thank you. For saving me and, well, for everyone else you’ve saved.” You answered, taking a step in his direction.

Hands shooting up, blocking an incoming hit you hadn't thrown, his guard slid back into place. With each inch you moved forward, he withdrew, like there was an invisible barrier forcing the two of you apart.

“I don't do this for handouts.” He growled, shoulders squaring off. You'd spooked him somehow.

“I never said you did.” You shrugged, sending him a soft smile. Retreating towards your end of the roof, you drew the bag towards your chest. “I just wanted to thank you, and to ask you a few questions. I figured they would be easier to swallow if I had something for you in return.”

Tilting his head at you, Daredevil flexed his fingers, no doubt fighting the urge to lock them into fists. His tongue dipped between his lips, sliding over the lower as he pondered. “What sort of questions?”

A bubble of pride rolled up your throat at the idea you'd gotten this feral cat of a man to trust you, even marginally. “About the other night. Nothing about your identity or anything, and if they seem too invasive you don't have to answer them at all. I'll respect whatever boundaries you need to set, but I would have regretted never asking. Does that make sense?”

The stubby horns on his helmet arced in semi-circles as he nodded. “I think so.”

“I just...did you feel it?” Grimacing as the question slipped out, you tried to clarify. “I mean, that's a horrible way to ask that but, er, when you..caught me, I think something–”

“Yes.” He interrupted you, his voice barely audible.

“What?”

Another coarse nod. “Yes. I felt it.”

“Oh my god,” You'd expected this answer, but you were still dumbfounded. “I thought maybe I was just crazy.”

“You're not crazy.” He huffed, a glimpse of his teeth shining in the city light as he smirked.

“So, that means we're...” You trailed off, not wanting to scare him away with the word.

The Devil stilled, his jaw quivering as his teeth grit together. The fragile peace you’d somehow achieved began to crack.

“It's ok!” You hurriedly reassured him. “I don't, I'm not–”

Tripping over your words, you held up a hand. After a deep breath, you tried again. “It's up to you what we mean to each other. I didn't come here to nag you, or demand things from you.”

“You didn't?” The question was posed as a statement. He didn't believe you.

“Not at all. That wouldn't be fair. To you or..well, to the other people in your life. I just wanted to know if it was real and to show my appreciation for the other night.” Shifting your weight from foot to foot, you watched as his posture slumped slightly.

“You didn't,” He sighed, crossing his arms. Holy shit was he hiding saplings under there? “You didn't have to do that.”

Swallowing harshly as you collected your thoughts, you giggled nervously. “I know, but I wanted to. Can't be easy to eat while flipping around the city.”

Another puff of breath, a hint of laughter. “What exactly is my reward?”

Chewing at the flesh of your lip, you fumbled for the zipper. “Well, I wasn't sure what you liked, so I brought a few options. They're sort of all over the map.”

Laying out the thin cotton blanket you'd packed, you withdrew a myriad of plastic containers and lined them up, describing each as you went. “Gnocchi and bolognese from Il Tinello, very hearty and comforting. If you want something a bit different, an Alice sandwich from that shop 'Toasties'? And, if you don't eat animal products, seitan satay from Plant-Blossom.”

“You weren't kidding.” The Devil remarked, creeping towards the edge of the blanket. “You ventured all over the city for this. You didn't–”

“Please don't feel bad!” You rushed out, stomach sinking at the guilty little pout on his face. “I was looking for something to do. Besides, you deserve a decent meal for sticking around to hear me out.”

“As much as I appreciate it, it's more food than I can eat.” The man protested, crouching beside the edge of the blanket, not quite crossing the boundary yet.

“I'll have some of whatever you don't want. And, if we still can't finish it, well I'm sure there's someone around here who will take it.” You reasoned, settling atop your folded legs. Despite your nerves, you kept your voice steady and your stature unassuming, not wanting to activate the man’s “scary Devil mode” again.

“Thank you.” Kneeling on the concrete, the vigilante cocked his head at the lineup of options, fingers dancing over his thighs hesitantly. His gravelly voice diffused into a murmur, showering you like a spray of glass beads. Cool and solid, steady as rain.

You nibbled at the inside of your lip, smiling softly as the treacherous defender of the city flushed pink in the pale golden hue of the sun. Despite his harsh exterior and skeptical nature, you were swooning at the glimpse of the man behind the mask. He was passionate and humble, truthfully taken aback by your gratitude. “I'm pretty sure I'm the one who should be thanking you. So, are you hungry?”

Lips splitting with a beautifully subtle grin, the Devil nodded. “Always.”

Satisfaction tugged at your heart, making you crinkle your nose as you held back a proud smile. “Help yourself!”

You hadn't been lying to him, the array of options was for his benefit; it wasn't much of a repayment if he didn't enjoy the food. As his hand reached for the first take out container, you realized there was something in it for you as well. In addition to him answering your brief question, and spending more than a moment nearby, you'd end up learning about him.

Something as simple as choice of meal wasn't overly revealing, but it confirmed some suspicions you had about your other half. He wasn't adventurous for the hell of it, his decisions–though seemingly rash–were purposeful and thought out. You understood the enticing pull, the desire to stick to your routine or things you already knew.

Bruised fingers popped the seal on the gnocchi, cradling the warm plastic tub with a fond glance in your direction. “Did you happen to bring silverware?”

Heat rushed to your face, embarrassment swatting at you as you scrambled for the utensils in your bag. “Oh gosh, yes, I am so sorry–”

“Don't apologize.” A comforting weight settled over the back of your hand, the rough pad of a thumb brushing over your knuckles. Tearing your eyes away from the packets in your grip, your mouth hung open in surprise as Daredevil tenderly swiped his finger over your skin. You froze in place, scared that the smallest twitch would ruin the moment.

Face slackening with realization, the man dropped your hand, sliding a set of plastic silverware out of your loose grip. “This will work. Thank you.”

Shoulders hunching, he pointed his body away from you, still kneeling rather than fully relaxing into a seated position. Busying yourself with your own plate of food, you tried to shove down the disappointment that gnawed at you, your fragile consciousness unable to stave off the feeling of rejection as he turned to face the city.

“Has it been busy tonight? The crime fighting, I mean?” You posed the question, hoping to bridge the literal and metaphorical gap once again widening between the pair of you.

The man opposite you hummed thoughtfully, swallowing before he spoke. “Not too bad.”

“That's good. Hopefully you'll be able to get some rest, then. If you need rest, that is. I mean, if you don't have a day job that would make it easier but how could you afford to live in this city? I guess you could probably bounce around and evade capture, but that sounds exhausting. How do you–” Cutting yourself off, you clamped a hand over your mouth. “Shit, I am so sorry. I really didn't mean to ask about that,  I'm just nervous which tends to make me ramble.“

Scratching at the back of his neck, Daredevil curled further in on himself. “I, uh, I guess I can't blame you for being nervous.”

“Oh, it's not your fault.” You promised, shaking your head violently. “I'm sort of like this with everyone. Lack of experience, I guess.”

Studying you for a moment, his lips briefly flickering with a smile. “I understand that. People are complicated.”

“Understatement of the century.” You huffed, a familiar blossom of warmth pooling in your chest when he echoed the chuckle.

Sitting in cozy silence, you ate quickly, stealing peeks at the muscular man every so often to gauge his discomfort. As much as you wanted to believe you were making progress, the rational side of your brain recognized the finite nature of this exchange. It was likely that he didn't intend to do this again. This was a favor extended to you for your appreciation.

As darkness descended on the skyline, cloaking the stark angles in shadows, a tightly wound knot of sorrow clogging your throat as you tried to finish your sandwich. Choking down the last bite, you lifted the final plate.

“Don't suppose you'd want any of this for the road?” Ignoring the tremble in your words, you began folding the blanket, avoiding his gaze.

“Sure,” He gently accepted, prying the container from your grasp and taking extra care not to make contact with your skin. “Thank you, again.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” You croaked around the lump in your throat, coughing to clear it. “Just, be safe out there.”

Giving you a sad smile, the masked man nodded firmly. “I’ll try my best.” 

Swaying awkwardly as you stood, shouldering your bag on the way up, your mind raced through its entire vocabulary in an attempt to find the words for a proper goodbye. You’d interacted with this man for less than an hour, yet he meant the world to you–but telling him that would be weird, wouldn’t it? You really needed a manual for these things. A roadmap to help you tread lightly, avoid landmines. Unfortunately, you were pretty sure the whole “my soulmate is a vigilante” thing wasn’t common enough to warrant an expert. 

“I, um, I’m going to head home before it’s super late. But, here–” Rushing through the excuse as quickly as you could, you held out a tiny rectangle of cardstock, holding your breath while he slipped it from your outstretched fingers. “My phone number is on there if you, er, if you ever need it.”

Chin dipping towards his chest, he cocked his head, studying the scrap of paper. “I appreciate it. Be safe getting home.”

“I will.” You vowed, blinking back the building sheen across your vision. “Take care of yourself.”

Before you could stumble and say something he didn’t want to hear, you made your exit.

Taglist: @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04

i can't have beef with the power of friendship trope because if someone wanted to hang out with me i'd probably reconsider my stance on turning the city into the 10th circle of hell

Omg please tag me in this, I am LOVING all the Daredevil x Vampire AU's recently!!!!

Carpe Noctem [PREVIEW]

Main Masterlist

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Pairing: Vampire!Matt Murdock x F!Nun!Reader

Warnings: (additional tags to be added/changed) Dead Dove Do Not Eat, religious imagery & symbolism, vampirism, Dark!Matt, blood consumption, corruption kink, SMUT (18+), pain kink, blood play, ANGST, canon typical violence, physical assault, allusions to sexual assault, hunter and prey vibes, allusions to stalking (possibly full-on), scent kink, marking, blasphemy, no happy ending

Summary: Over the past centuries, nothing could have stopped Matt Murdock from wanting, craving, everything, even what he could not have; money, power, and sex, among other more materialistic things, but nothing has him in quite a chokehold like the insatiable hunger for blood he was cursed with the night he died. Nothing could have stopped him from getting what he wants until one day in March, you enter his life.

Matt has stolen, beaten and killed without care, but corrupting a child of God is a line he dares not cross. You, a nun. It’s unthinkable. The part of him that longs for the life he was torn out of—the boy still riding the waves of Catholicism, that Matt Murdock—would rather see him impaled on a wooden stake than allow him to take your blood. Your blood, your innocence, and all that you are; the aroma of rosemary and sanctity that surrounds you is a siren’s call that draws him inevitably closer. The same walls of Clinton Church that house you would incinerate him, and he still wants you. He wants you, but he can’t have you.

Devoting yourself to the church saved you from the abyss, but it may also lead to your eternal corruption at the hands of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Matt Murdock. A vampire. Soon, you find yourself not only on the verge of losing your innocence to this angel of the night but your life, too, and your world drastically changes for what you realize might be worse than death itself.

(18+ MINORS DNI!)

A/n: I’m back, back, BACK again! Vampire!Matt brainrot is real, and this idea was so dark in my head and kind of ironic, really, I had to put it out there for you. I will be doing my research on Catholicism religiously (pun intended) to make this as accurate as possible, but it’s still an alternate universe and I like making up my own rules. Everything I write is my personal playground, and I invite you to join me for this steamy piece of angst. So far, this is only a concept, but I will get to writing it as soon as I can! The idea is there, and I’ve got some things planned out already. So, if you’re curious, do stick around!

AESTHETIC.

Matt.

You.

RELEASE DATE: TBD!

(If you want to be tagged to know when I release it, as always, feel free to let me know. I don’t bite. Well, only sometimes.)