Angst To Comfort - Tumblr Posts
Chapter Two: A love in the dark
Matt Murdock × Gender neutral reader
{Slow-burn/angst to comfort/ miscommunication/a slight pregnancy trope. Karen x Foggy}
I watched him, the faint tremble in his hands, the way his shoulders hunched like he was trying to hold the world together on his own. And maybe he was.
“Matt,” I said softly, trying to catch his gaze. But he was somewhere else, staring through me like he was seeing ghosts. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
He lifted his head, and for a split second, I saw something break in him, something raw and real and utterly heartbreaking. He smelled like rain, sweat, and exhaustion—like a man who’d been fighting his own demons for so long he’d forgotten how to stop.
Just as I opened my mouth to speak, the sudden ring of my phone cut through the quiet. The sound startled me, and I glanced at the screen, my heart stuttering when I saw Matt’s name.
I blinked, looking at the empty spot beside me on the couch where he’d just been. Only, he wasn’t there. The apartment was still, and suddenly, I felt every ounce of the emptiness pressing down on me. I picked up the phone, my voice wavering as I answered.
“Matt?”
“Hey,” came his voice, rough and low, the words distorted by static. There was something off about it—an edge that made my skin prickle, like the ghost of a snarl hidden beneath the surface. It was Matt, but it wasn’t. It was harsher, darker, tinged with an anger that wasn’t usually directed at me. “You home?”
“Yeah, I… I’m here,” I said, looking around the empty apartment, my confusion mounting. “Where are you?”
There was a pause, just the sound of his breathing crackling through the line. For a moment, I thought he might hang up, but then he spoke again, quieter this time, almost hesitant. “I’m close. I’ll be there soon.”
The call ended abruptly, leaving me staring at the screen, the silence suddenly suffocating. I stood up, pacing the length of the room, my mind racing. Something was wrong. Something had been wrong for a long time, and now it was right on the edge of boiling over.
Before I could think too hard about it, there was a soft knock at the door, so gentle I almost missed it. I opened it slowly, and there he was, drenched in rain and shadow, his cane folded neatly in his hand. He slipped inside without a word, his movements fluid and deliberate, like he already knew every corner of the room without needing to look.
Matt didn’t bother with his usual pleasantries. His steps were deliberate, purposeful as he walked further into my apartment, each footfall soft but assured, like he was gliding through the dark. The cane folded in his grip felt more like an afterthought, something he carried not out of necessity but routine. He knew the layout of my space better than anyone—better than me, even. He’d memorized every table leg, every uneven floorboard, every creak and groan of the old walls.
But tonight, he was different. He carried the weight of the city with him, the air around him heavy with the scent of rain, sweat, and something darker—something sharp and metallic, like the echo of a fight that hadn’t yet ended. His hair was wet, plastered against his forehead, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low and ragged, stripped of the warmth I’d come to know. It was the voice of someone used to giving orders, not asking questions.
“I’m sorry for calling like that,” he said, but it didn’t sound like an apology. His voice had an edge to it, something deeper, grittier, that sent a shiver down my spine. It was like he’d brought the city’s darkness with him, dragging it through the threshold and spilling it onto my worn carpet. “I just… I didn’t know where else to go.”
“It’s okay,” I said, though it wasn’t. None of this was okay, and the way he was looking at me—like he was seeing something but not quite there—made my chest tighten. “Are you hurt?”
He shook his head, but I didn’t believe him. There were bruises creeping along his jaw, a faint trickle of dried blood near his ear that he hadn’t bothered to clean. Up close, I could smell it—the iron tang of fresh cuts mingling with the faint musk of leather and sweat. It was the scent of the city at its worst, of late nights and alleyways, of battles fought in places no one was meant to see. I reached out instinctively, my hand hovering just over his cheek, but he pulled back, stiffening at the contact.
“Matt,” I said, my voice breaking at the sight of him. “What the hell is going on with you?”
He turned away, his grip tightening around his cane, knuckles white against the dark wood. I watched as he leaned against the wall, his shoulders slumped, a man teetering on the edge of something he couldn’t name. The air between us was thick, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid, and I felt like I was grasping at smoke, trying to catch hold of a man who was slipping further and further away.
“Fisk is getting bolder,” Matt said finally, his voice low and laced with something that bordered on a snarl. “He’s… He’s tearing this city apart.”
I flinched at the venom in his tone. I’d heard Matt angry before, but this was different—this was rage, pure and unfiltered, the kind that didn’t just come from frustration but from something deeper, something personal. I knew Fisk was bad news—he was on every channel, his smug face plastered across every screen in Hell’s Kitchen. But this… this was something else.
“What does that have to do with you?” I asked, my voice small in the dim room. “Why are you always in the middle of this?”
His silence was answer enough. Matt clenched his jaw, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring ready to snap. I could see the conflict warring in his expression, the shadows under his eyes deepening as he struggled to keep his secrets buried. It was like he was on the brink of telling me something—something that could change everything—but fear held him back. Or maybe it was pride.
“I can’t tell you,” he said finally, each word dragged out like it hurt to say. “I want to. God, I want to tell you everything, but I can’t. Not yet.”
I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest, feeling the weight of his words settle like lead in my stomach. There was so much he wasn’t saying, so many cracks in the façade he’d spent years building, and I was terrified of what lay underneath. But more than that, I was scared of losing him—of watching him disappear into the darkness he’d been dancing with for far too long.
“You don’t have to do this alone, Matt,” I said, stepping closer, my hand reaching for his despite the chill between us. “Whatever it is, whatever you’re fighting, let me help you.”
His breath hitched, and for a moment, I saw the mask slip, just a little. There was something broken in his eyes, something fragile and desperate that he couldn’t quite hide. He reached up, his fingers brushing mine in a touch so light it was almost a question, and for the first time that night, I thought he might actually let me in.
But then the mask was back, the walls slamming down as he pulled away, retreating into himself like he always did. “I can’t,” he whispered, the words barely audible over the sound of the rain against the window. “Not yet.”
And just like that, the distance between us stretched wide again, the unspoken things building a wall I couldn’t see over. Matt turned, folding his cane with a practiced flick of his wrist, and headed toward the door, his shoulders hunched against the weight of his own secrets.
I watched him go, feeling the ache of his absence before he’d even left the room. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I needed to hear, but the words wouldn’t come. Matt paused at the door, his hand resting on the knob, and for a moment, I thought he might turn back, that he might finally tell me the truth.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he glanced over his shoulder, his face half-hidden in shadow. “Stay safe,” he said, his voice raw and jagged, like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this world. And then he was gone, swallowed by the night and the storm outside, leaving me alone in the dim glow of my apartment, surrounded by questions that I didn’t have the answers to.
I stood there long after the door had closed, staring at the empty space where he’d been, my heart heavy with the weight of all the things we never said. Whatever was going on with Matt, it was bigger than me, bigger than both of us. And as much as I wanted to help, to fight alongside him, I knew that some battles he would have to face alone.
For now, all I could do was wait.
---
**Flashback:**
The first time he showed up like this, it was raining, too. I remember the soft patter against the window, the way the city seemed to hold its breath as he stumbled inside, dripping and bruised. I’d never seen him look so small, so utterly defeated, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if the man standing in front of me was Matt Murdock or the ghost of the vigilante he’d tried so hard to keep hidden. His suit was torn in places, blood seeping through the fabric, and his hair was a matted mess sticking to his forehead. There was a wild, desperate look in his eyes, like he’d been running from something that still had its claws in him.
“Matt?” I’d whispered, the question hanging heavy in the air between us. He didn’t answer, just stood there, water pooling at his feet, his hands trembling as he struggled to pull off his mask. I’d never seen him like this—so vulnerable, so raw. It was like watching a dam break, the weight of everything he’d been carrying spilling out all at once.
“Sorry,” he’d muttered, voice cracking as he finally let the mask fall to the floor. His fingers twitched at his sides, like he didn’t know what to do with them. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
I didn’t ask questions. Not then. I just took him by the arm, guiding him to the couch as he sagged against me, the strength in his legs giving way. He winced when I touched his side, the sharp intake of breath telling me more than words ever could. He was hurt—badly. And yet, he’d come here. To me. When he could barely stand, when his body was a map of pain and bruises, he’d chosen my door.
I’d gone to grab a first aid kit, but by the time I’d returned, he was already trying to clean his wounds, his movements stiff and shaky. I watched him struggle, stubbornly pushing through the pain like it was a challenge he couldn’t afford to lose. I sat beside him, taking the cloth from his hands, my touch gentle, careful not to push too hard.
“Let me help,” I’d said softly, and he’d nodded, too exhausted to argue.
.
As I wrapped his ribs, I couldn’t help but notice the faint tremor in his hands, the way he clenched his jaw like he was holding something back. He’d always been good at that—at hiding. But that night, in the dim light of my apartment, it was like the mask he wore had slipped, just a little, and I could see the man beneath. The one who bled, who hurt, who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders even when it was too much.
“Thank you,” he’d said quietly when I was done, his voice barely above a whisper. It was the kind of gratitude that came from a place of deep, unspoken pain, and it hit me harder than I expected. There was something in his eyes then, something vulnerable and raw that he rarely let anyone see. And in that moment, I’d realized just how much he was fighting—not just the criminals, the shadows of Hell’s Kitchen, but himself. His past, his guilt, the unrelenting need to do more, to be more than just the blind lawyer or the devil in the dark.
“I’m here,” I’d told him, my voice steady despite the tremor in my heart. “Whenever you need me.”
He’d nodded, but there was a sadness in his smile, a flicker of something that told me he didn’t believe it could be that simple. And maybe it wasn’t. But I’d meant every word. Because Matt was more than just the man who kept coming back bruised and battered. He was the one who fought for the voiceless, who stood up when no one else would. And even though he never said it, I knew that, in his own way, he was fighting for me too.
But as I watched him disappear into the night once more, a shadow among the rain-soaked streets, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were both losing a battle we didn’t know how to win. That no matter how many times he found his way back to my door, we were still trapped in this endless dance of secrets and silence.
Now, standing alone in the dim light of my apartment, I thought of that night—the first time he’d let his guard down, the first time he’d let me see the cracks in his armor. It was a memory that haunted me, one that lingered in the quiet moments when I was left to wonder if there would ever be a day when Matt didn’t feel the need to fight alone.
And as I stared at the door, hoping against hope that he might come back, I realized that all I could do was wait. To be here when he was ready. To love him in the silence, even if it meant loving a man who might never be able to love himself.
*flashback end*
*The next morning*
I stood there long after the door had closed, staring at the empty space where Matt had been. The silence was overwhelming, filled with questions that spun wildly in my head. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to make sense of it all, but every thought led me back to the same place: Matt was in trouble, and whatever he was facing was bigger than anything I could handle alone.
I grabbed my phone, my fingers trembling as I scrolled through my contacts. Foggy’s name stared back at me, a small comfort in a sea of uncertainty. If anyone could make sense of this, it was Foggy. He was Matt’s best friend, his anchor, the one person who’d always managed to pull him back when the darkness threatened to consume him.
I hit call, pressing the phone to my ear, pacing anxiously around the apartment as it rang.
“Hey, what’s up?” Foggy’s voice was light, but there was a tiredness beneath it, the kind that came from too many late nights and too much worrying.
“It’s Matt,” I said, the words rushing out before I could stop them. “Something’s… something’s really wrong.”
There was a pause, and I could almost hear the shift in Foggy’s demeanor, the lightness gone in an instant. “What happened? Is he hurt?”
“He’s…” I hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “He showed up here, bruised and bleeding, and he wouldn’t tell me what was going on. He said Fisk is tearing the city apart, but it’s more than that. It’s like he’s… unraveling.”
“Shit,” Foggy muttered, his voice laced with a mix of anger and fear. “Where is he now?”
“He left. I tried to get him to stay, to talk, but he just—he wouldn’t let me in. He’s shutting everyone out, and I don’t know what to do.”
Foggy sighed heavily, and I could hear him moving, grabbing his things. “I’m on my way. I’ll call Karen too. Meet us at Josie’s in ten.”
He hung up before I could respond, and I was left staring at the phone, feeling the weight of what was happening settle even heavier on my shoulders. I knew this wasn’t the first time Matt had gone off the rails, but something about tonight felt different, like he was teetering on the edge of something dangerous, and there was no pulling him back. Not without help.
I grabbed my coat and headed out, the cold night air hitting me as I made my way to Josie’s. The streets were slick with rain, the city lights reflecting in the puddles like fractured stars. It felt fitting, somehow—everything just a little broken, a little off.
When I walked into the bar, Foggy was already there, pacing near the entrance. His expression was a mix of worry and frustration, the lines on his face deeper than I remembered. Karen was seated at a table nearby, her eyes flicking anxiously between her phone and the door. She looked up when she saw me, her expression softening, but the concern was still etched in every line of her face.
“I got here as fast as I could,” Karen said, her voice quiet but urgent. “What’s going on? What happened with Matt?”
I slid into the seat beside her, feeling the warmth of the bar’s dim lighting chase away the chill from outside. “He’s falling apart, Karen. He came to my place tonight, bruised and bloody, talking about Fisk, about the city tearing itself apart. But he wouldn’t tell me anything real. He wouldn’t let me help.”
Foggy sat down across from us, rubbing a hand over his face. “He’s been pulling away for weeks now. Every time I try to get through to him, he shuts me out. I thought… I don’t know what I thought. That maybe he’d get it together, that he’d let one of us in. But it’s like he’s on some kind of self-destruct path, and he won’t stop until he’s—”
He trailed off, the fear in his eyes saying more than his words ever could. I knew what he was thinking, what we were all thinking: that one day, Matt might not come back from whatever fight he’d thrown himself into.
Karen leaned forward, her voice a whisper as she tried to piece it all together. “Did he say anything about Fisk? About what’s going on?”
“Just that Fisk is getting bolder,” I said, the memory of Matt’s snarled words still fresh, still raw. “He’s acting like this is his fight, like he’s the only one who can stop it. But he’s not just angry, he’s… he’s scared. I’ve never seen him like this.”
Foggy slammed his fist on the table, startling both of us. “Goddammit, Matt. Why does he always think he has to do this alone? We’re his friends, for Christ’s sake. We’re supposed to be in this together.”
Karen placed a hand on Foggy’s arm, her touch gentle, but her voice firm. “We need to find him. Before he does something reckless.”
“But how?” I asked, feeling the weight of the question settle heavily between us. “He’s not exactly easy to track down, and even if we do find him, how do we get through to him?”
Foggy looked at me, his expression softening just a little. “We just… we keep trying. We keep showing up, no matter how many times he pushes us away. Matt’s stubborn, but he’s not invincible. He’s still human, and he needs us, whether he wants to admit it or not.”
Karen nodded, determination flashing in her eyes. “We start with what we know. We dig into Fisk, figure out what’s got Matt so spooked. And we keep reaching out, keep reminding him that he’s not alone in this.”
I glanced between them, feeling a surge of something close to hope. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Enough to keep fighting, enough to keep believing that maybe, somehow, we could pull Matt back from the edge before it was too late.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “We’re in this together.”
And as we sat there, huddled in the dim light of Josie’s, I felt the faint stirrings of resolve, the beginning of a plan. We weren’t going to give up on Matt. Not now, not ever. Because no matter how far he fell, no matter how deep the darkness, we were his light. And we were going to find him, to stand by him, to love him through the silence.
06 Two unknown streamers- Mysterious person
Gojo satoru x gn reader enemies to lovers
Two unknown streamers
Back masterlist next
Taglist open: @sonicsolos @chilichopsticks @owotalks @kaibloom79 @sabrinexx @xhxzgn @colours-of-heaven @asta80fishbowl @oinixd
synopsis- gojo and you both met while streaming together for the first time not knowing you guys really dislike each other so what will happen when you do a face reveal once you reach the number of followers you wanted to get to and everyone sees who gojo was talking to the whole time
Toji Fushiguro: Dull Roses
“I’m sorry.”
I winced and controlled my facial expressions carefully to avoid giving away more. I've learnt how to control my body language and social cues in various events to be presentable. An only child born in a rich family would give you that. And somehow, these social cues waver when it comes to him.
"You're not." I uttered. I thought I was being stoic, but in fact, I wasn't. I got teary, my lips trembled, and most importantly, I started snapping my fingers as a form of an anxiety tic.
“Baby-” He stepped forward with his arms open, but I took two steps backwards. A literal execution of ‘one step forward, two steps backwards’. He put his arms down in defeat and hurt flashed through his eyes.
“Pack your clothes and leave. I never want to see you again.” I said with an eerie calmness. Yet, my lips continued to tremble as I was trying hard not to cry.
“Please listen to me. I didn’t mean it. I was angry and I wasn’t in my head.” He continued to step forward with caution. I laughed bitterly and ran my fingers through my hair out of frustration.
“You are a good fuck, but that doesn’t mean you can control my life!” He shouted, mere seconds ago.
His words flashed through my mind. Repetitively. Every time I thought of it, my head and chest squeezed painfully. I tried to make the pain go away by rubbing my temples and chest lightly, but the pain was still there. I felt suffocated just by his words.
Toji and I shared an apartment, a place we called ‘home’. We were together for three years until he asked me to move in with him. It has been two years since then.
Toji came home with a darkened aura around him. It was written all over his face that he had a rough day. Not a normal corporate rough day, but a rough rough day. He threw his shoes away and pulled his tie back so harshly that I could hear his clothes tearing. I walked up to him and caressed his cheeks, “Bad day, huh?” I asked softly.
He grunted as a form of response and left me standing at the door to shower. I followed him silently into our bedroom. “Is there anything that I can do to help?” I asked again in a soft tone.
He shook his head but didn’t look at me. It was like he couldn’t see me. I found it weird but didn’t want to press further, so I just prepared the tub for him while he stripped naked silently.
Two hours later, he exited the tub with a towel hanging around his torso. He seemed better but his eyebrows continued to furrow. His telltale that he was still upset. I made him his favourite chamomile tea, one that always relaxes him and makes him sleep better at night. I pushed the mug towards him at the dining table.
“Toji? Do you want to talk about it? You know bottling up your emotions will just make your overthinking worse right?” I asked while caressing his back. He grunted again and took a sip of his chamomile tea, still not looking at me.
“Or do you want to have a movie marathon and we’ll just talk about it tomorrow? You could pick the movie while I prepare us some snacks-” I continued while shuffling through the discs in the bottom drawer of the TV cabinet. “Dear lord, can you just shut up for one second!” Toji yelled.
I flinched and halted my movements.
“The moment I came home, you just pestered me about my day and never stopped talking. I just wanted peace of mind from this shitty day for fuck’s sake! You want to know what happened? I got laid off! Happy?” He exploded and rambled on. His raised tone was loud enough to make me shiver.
I told myself that he was just angry. He was just lashing out. He rarely lashes out so this is just him exploding all at once. “Toji-” I stepped forward to console him. But his next words stopped me.
“I am working so hard for our future and you are staying home doing whatever the fuck you are doing. Here you are, asking me so many questions when all I wanted was just peace and quiet.”
“You are a good fuck, but that doesn’t mean you can control my life!” He shouted. Silence filled the room afterwards.
“No, those were your true words. You meant it. I am a hindrance to your life and a whore. You made it very clear.” I whispered. Finally, he looked me in the eyes. Whatever signs of his anger washed away, replaced by remorse and guilt. I wrapped my arms around myself and finally let the tears run down my face. Hurt and anger flashed across his face at my words. Anger towards himself, I could tell.
“No, baby, I didn’t mean it. You are not a hindrance and definitely not a whore. You are my life and I will never forgive myself for saying those words. I love you so much, you know that.” He explained himself hurriedly and stepped forward eagerly to console me.
I laughed to myself at his words, aggressively wiping my tears off my face. “Get out this instant.” I said, pointing at the door with a sharp tone.
He tried to explain himself, and I wouldn’t listen to his explanation. So, I did what I had to do. I walked into our bedroom with intention, packed my clothes and went back out.
“I’ll leave. This is your apartment, I have no right to stay.” I mustered without looking at him. I can’t look at him, or else, I will be tempted to forgive him. He probably exploded out of anger, out of frustration, he probably didn’t mean them but they hurt all the same.
With intention or not, the damage was there.
“Bye Fushiguro, take care of yourself.” I bid farewell, not missing the way he winced at how I called him by his last name instead.
—
Two weeks later
I opened my rented room's door to a mailman, holding a bouquet of roses with a letter addressed to me. From Toji. As usual, for the past two weeks now.
I sighed, “Sir, any chance you could send this back to the sender?” I asked while leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.
The mailman shook his head, “No can do. He made it very clear that you will receive it unless I want to lose my job.” He answered with annoyance and fear.
“I am going to kill you, Toji Fushiguro.” I mustered under my breath as I closed the door. I couldn’t help but smile at the bouquet and letter. It was another series of apologies from him, wrapped with warmth and love.
But I hold grudges and am pretty petty. The thought of his last words made my head throb. So, I put the bouquet in one corner with the rest of the bouquets and opened up the letter.
—
Another two weeks later
“Baby.” A gruff voice came from the other side of the door, slurred as well. Toji Fushiguro is drunk and at my doorstep.
“Baby! Please!” He begged with a strained voice, accompanied by hiccups whilst banging on my door aggressively. He has been outside for 15 minutes now. “What?” I asked with annoyance on my side of the door, not wanting to deal with his drunk and sorry ass.
“I missed you- hiccups no, I miss you. Please let me in. I want to see you. I haven’t hiccups been able to sl-sleep.” He slurred his words with hiccups in between, still banging on my door. At this rate, my neighbors are going to file a complaint about the noise disturbance and not to mention, the existence of a broody suspicious man banging on a woman’s door.
I opened the door and his body warmth engulfed me with his head automatically nuzzling against my neck since he was leaning on my door earlier. He was so heavy that I had to hold onto my doorknob for support to make sure both of us did not fall.
“How much did you have? For fuck’s sake.” I grumbled as I maneuvered us into my bedroom and dropped him carefully on my bed with his head well-positioned on my pillow. “Not enough to numb hiccups m-myself, I could still feel the p-pain when you left.”
“I am sorry, baby.” The only words he said without slurring and hiccuping before he went into a slumber.
I caressed his face and trailed the wrinkles on his face to the back of his ears. His eye bags are darker, his wrinkles are deeper, and his eyebrows are furrowed even though he’s asleep. He looks miserable. With a sigh, I got up to clean up his mess.
—
Toji woke up with a throbbing head, he could feel the veins in his neck and temples pulsating. “Fuck.” He threw an arm over his forehead in hopes of relieving the throbbing sensation but it was no help. Beside him, were a cup of water and medicines for his hangover.
“Great, you’re awake. Now, leave.” I demanded with a fake firmness with my arms crossed. Though his presence here calms me, his harsh words still float in my mind. With that, I decided that he only deserved cold treatment from me.
Despite his throbbing head, he insisted on walking towards me with his forearm on his forehead to avoid the blinding lights in his eyes. “Let me explain, please. I was wrong. Please give me a chance to at least beg for your forgiveness.”
My heart ached for this, Toji never begs. No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the uneasiness away. I had a feeling that if I didn’t listen to him, I would be miserable too. I would be overthinking and drowning in my spirals of self-doubt.
At last, I nodded as a sign for him to continue.
“That day, I got laid off. I entered the office, thinking that there would be good news for me because my colleagues had told me it could be a promotion. A promotion means a raise and that means I could save more money and we could finally get married.” He explained all in one breath as if I would run away if he didn’t. My eyes watered at the word ‘married’.
“I got laid off because the company was not doing well. They had to cut down staff to save costs and I got the brunt of it. Afterwards, everything just went downhill for me. I tripped over a chair, lost my wallet, got scolded by a random old man on the streets for scaring off his dog and more.” I snorted and crossed my arms tighter at his explanation. At every sentence, he took a step closer to me carefully. I never stopped him.
“When I got home, all I could think of was how I was a failure. Because if I was a competent staff, I wouldn’t be laid off. I wouldn’t have to worry about our financial difficulties and we could still get married.” His voice strained with a silent sob. Finally, he came to me and held onto my arms, wrapping his fingers over mine.
“I was occupied with self-doubt. I wasn’t thinking straight. I was spiralling. Eventually, I exploded.” Subconsciously, I leaned towards him, wanting to be close to him despite my heart aching for him.
“By the time I realised, you were already crying. I regretted everything and I hate myself for it. For you leaving. I always had anger issues and you never cared about them because you knew that I was trying my best. You always care for me in ways that I didn’t know I needed.” He confessed and I couldn’t hide my sobs anymore. I hid my face in my face as he embraced me while smoothing a hand on my back.
“I am sorry. I am so fucking sorry. I know it’s hard for you to trust me right now, but all I am asking for is a chance. Just tell me yes or no, and I will respect what you want.”
“Even if you don’t want to see me anymore.” He whispered.
He knelt and held onto my calves, kissing them while holding onto my hands. He knelt like I was his queen.
“Okay.” I answered in a small voice. He was confused by my answer so I knelt to his level and crashed my lips onto his. Our kiss wasn’t soft, it was full of hunger. Seconds later, I pulled away but he didn’t like that so he held onto me tightly. “I forgive you, Toji.”
“Well, the kiss gave it away. Would be weird for you not to with that mindblowing kiss.” He joked, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. His breath fanning above my lips. “Don’t push it, Fushiguro.” I laughed as I straddled his lap.
“Now, make it up to me in bed.”
“Gladly, my queen.” He smirked. He carried me princess-style, plopped me onto the bed, and started trailing kisses on my stomach to my cleavage.
Chapter 9 is up! Thank you all for 300 reads!
hi!! Could I request a rottmnt Leoxreader where after they get back to the lair at the end of all the fighting there’s just a lot of comfort and helping take care of him from his s/o? I don’t really have anything specific but I just watched the movie and I NEED this boy to have so much love and fluff thank you!!
A/n: The movie caused me emotion damage, and I desperately need this boy to be okay. Sorry this was so short ^^
Genre: A slight bit of angst with a lot of fluff
Pairing: Leo x Gn Reader
Leo was exhausted, his muscles felt twisted and strained, laced with an aching, burning feeling with every movement he made, causing Leo to let a small sigh of frustration slip from his cold lips.
Leo had been training more harshly than he usually would, Leo had always been more light-hearted and carefree when it came to training or fighting in general. But something was different.
He had been feeling so constrained lately, like his head was wrapped up in something entirely different than whatever task he had been dealt with. Of course this had its issues already.
But Leo couldn’t help but feel that he was distracted.
Sure things had gone back to normal after the battle with the Krang but that experience had haunted Leo, everything he and his brothers had to endure, he just couldn’t seem to get it out of his head.
Especially his battle with the Krang.
It was an experience he couldn’t simply shake. The thought that he was going to lose everything. To be trapped in that god forsaken prison for the rest of eternity, the feeling of isolation wrapping its cold hands around his throat.
It felt like his life was being choked out of him, twisting his body in such a harsh way. A sharp chill running up and down his spine with an overwhelming intensity.
That feeling still shakes him to his core. Leo shook the thoughts from his mind, yet that uneasy feeling still resonated within him as he walked back into the lair completely exhausted and wanting nothing more than for you to hold him in your arms so he could drift to sleep peacefully.
Leo hardly ever had nightmares when he slept beside you, like you were his dreamcatcher, chasing his nightmares away while he rested easily knowing that you weren’t going anywhere.
Leo stretched yawning as he allowed his body to slump over as he lazily dragged his feet across the cold floor, the icy feeling burning through the soles of his feet. He rounded the corner, opening the curtain to his room.
His droopy eyes widened at the sight of you already waiting there on his bed mindlessly scrolling through your phone before you had taken note of Leo's presence in the room, causing a smile to grace your soft features as you got up to greet the blue turtle.
You opened your arms for him in which he happily accepted closing the gap between you two quickly.
“What are you doing here?” Leo asked into the crook of your neck not quite ready to let go yet.
“What? I can’t come to see my handsome boyfriend.” you joked turning your head to lay a soft kiss on the side of his head before you let go, a small blush covered his face at the unexpected compliment you had thrown his way.
He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
“No, of course not. I just didn’t think you’d come all this way especially when it's so late.” Leo remarked, glancing at the red clock that hung from his wall.
“Well I’m here now aren’t I? Let’s lay down.” you smiled softly, taking his hand into yours. Leo felt his heart melt at your words. You always knew exactly when he needed you. You knew him like the back of your hand.
Leo felt his muscles loosen as the feeling of the soft mattress engulfed his body causing him to let a content sigh slip past his lips. Leo threw his arms over your torso pulling you closer to him as he entangled his legs with yours.
As he buried his face in your neck causing you to let out a small giggle as Leo smiled against your skin, your laughter was the sweetest melody.
Leo closed his eyes feeling his head go foggy as he hears you humming softly, the sound growing further away as the tides of sleep have washed him away.
