Sweetheart ❤️
My first fic, enjoy! I’m hoping to continue this but I’m keeping no promises.
“Hello there sweetheart”
You don’t know how he found you, you didn’t even know who it was. His face obscured by the shadows of your apartment; the same apartment that functioned as a makeshift doctor’s office for vigilantes and heroes. There was little light save for the moonbeams that lit up the glee in the man’s eyes. You shuffled back as much as your legs would let you, as if any sudden movements might show your fear. You take a deep breath and manage to form a sentence.
“Hello…can I help you?”
His hand reached for the light switch on the wall and you see the sheer size him towering in front of you. It was Bullseye. The man that Matt, well Daredevil, had warned you to stay far away from. You feel your heart beating out of your chest as you remember the countless news reports of his senseless crimes and the only thing you could focus on was not becoming another statistic in his string of murders.
You take another step back and he takes one towards you, your back hitting the wall. He brought one hand next to your head, caging you in. The strong smell of blood fills your nose and that’s when you notice him swaying, as if he was struggling to hold himself up. You got a close look at his face. As close as you could with his mask on but even so you could tell he was in bad shape. A split brow, a bloodshot eye and grime covering the sling you could see. You could only imagine how the rest of him looked. You continued trying to back away from this man. Who knew when Matt would next come here. Would it be days or weeks? Would he find you strung up, used as Bullseye’s next target practice? Perhaps you weren’t important enough for that and he would he find you in a pool of your own blood, thrown out the window.
You felt his breath hitting your check as he leant closer. Now only inches from your face.
“A friend of yours told me this was the place to go-“.
He inhaled sharply and groaned in pain.
“- I hear you’re one hell of a doctor”.
He emphasisedthe word hell and you see more blood seeping through his costume from…everywhere.
“Who told you about me?”
“Matt”.
He lied. Dex had followed Matt here one night after a fight. He had waited across the street until Matt had come out, looking much better coming out than going in. He had come to the conclusion that you were the doctor that Matt refused to reveal the identity of; the same one he was warnes to stay away from. He could see why. Even though you were cowering against the wall, fear and contempt in your eyes, he couldn’t help but notice how gorgeous you were.
Before he could say another word, his knees buckled. You tried to catch him but just ended up grabbing his shoulders, spinning him round and slamming him against the same wall you were once leant against. He groaned as he slid down gently. Slightly more gently than if you’d let him fall freely. You stood for a second, unsure what to do, before kneeling down to his level. You heard him struggling to breathe; too much blood in his mask. You curled your fingers under his mask and slowly lifted it off, inch by inch. Blood had already started to dry and provided some difficulty as you rolled it up. After what felt like hours you completely removed his mask, taking in his face for the first time. His sharp eyes, his chiselled jaw. If you had met him at a bar, not under these circumstances, you might have even asked for his number. If you didn’t know he was a murderer you could imagine kissing him but right now all you saw was how badly he was hurt. His lip split, nose bruised, eye swollen. Still handsome. You both sat in silence, unsure what to say.
“After I patch you up…are you going to kill me?”.
He chuckled, too sure of himself despite the fact he was bleeding out on your floor.
“I think you’ll be useful to keep around, sweetheart”.
There’s that pet name again. You can’t tell whether you hated it because it was so unfamiliar or whether it just sounded strange coming from Bullseye’s mouth. You stood up and grabbed your first aid kid from your bedroom. You resented taking your eyes off him. You didn’t know how dangerous he really was but when you returned he was still sitting there against the wall. His eyes softened or perhaps that was just the light.
You kneel down at his level and open the first aid kit. The heavy silence was too loud and you prayed for some sort of usual nightly disturbance to interrupt the tension. Whether it be drunk people shouting or distant traffic. It was almost as if you two were the only people awake in New York and you hated it. What you didn’t know was that Bullseye hated it more. In the silence it was only him and his thoughts, that constant reminder that he couldn’t be normal. That he shouldn’t enjoy whatever this is. The proximity to another person.
You bring an alcohol wipe up to his eyebrow and he hisses in pain. Truth be told it hadn’t hurt that much but he enjoyed testing you; seeing the way your face twisted in concern. Concern over him. He could feel his heartbeat quicken in a way it hadn’t for a long time.
No, he thought. This is too dangerous in his line of work. Connection only led to weakness, like a dam. The cracks may seem small but they inevitably lead to total collapse. And yet he couldn’t help but admire the way you were working. Slow and methodical like you had done this a thousand times.
He wondered how you looked when you helped Matt. Were you equally concerned or would you tell him off for not being careful? Would you joke around? He longed to see you smile, he was sure you would look even more beautiful.
He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear and you stopped cleaning his wound for a second, slightly flustered. He hadn’t meant to, really. He found himself carried away looking at you working but he couldn’t deny he wasn’t enjoying this. You could tell he is from the amused look plastered on his face.
“Don’t do that”. You state firmly but your movement falters and it feels like a pit appears in your stomach. Dark and empty. A painful reminder that no one had ever gotten this close. No one had ever chosen you. You tried not to think about it in your everyday life but it bled into everything you did. Your job, your hobbies, your sleep. The world seemed to move around you and you were barely holding on. It wasn’t for lack of trying but you had begun to think there was something wrong with you. Something that would drive people away. Sure, you had plenty of friends but no one had ever wanted anything more.
Your gaze had fixed on the first aid kit next to you which had apparently become the most interesting thing in the room. You didn’t see that his amusement had turned to concern.
“I…I can patch you up but then you need to leave. I know Daredevil didn’t tell you about me so god knows how you found this place. I fix you and then you leave”
Your throat grew tight and tears threatened to overflow while you kept avoiding his gaze.
“What is it, what’s the matter?” He questioned out of genuine worry. His tone completely different from when he first entered.
“There’s nothing the matter, I just don’t think it’s a good look if Daredevil finds out I was patching up his enemy…nothing more”. Truly a terrible lie but there wasn’t anything else you could think of that would satisfy Bullseye’s questioning.
You found the strength to meet his eyes and recognise the stare. The same one you see in so many pictures of yourself. It’s the hope that one day something will change. The hope that, although you may be alone now, one day someone will want you. Maybe even love you. You hate that you’ve found that look in the eyes of someone so dangerous.
Although no words are said he understood the brief silence and let it hang for a minute. For once he had no clue what to do. All his usual planning and he hadn’t prepared for this scenario. His mind wandered back to Daredevil but he dismissed it quickly. The flinching at his touch screamed unfamiliarity rather than disgust. Something he knew all too well. It wasn’t that you were already taken by someone else, it was that no one had ever loved you.
By the time he had come to that conclusion, his face was patched up nicely. Now you had the rest of him to worry about and his tactical suit provided no ease of entry.
“I have to sort out the rest of your wounds, take your clothes off”.
You realise what you say a second too late and you feel your face flush. Bullseye smiles, the cogs turning in his head.
“Whatever you say, sweetheart”.