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reverieblondie · 8 months

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Scary Movie Night

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Full nelson, Oral, Cum eating, Reverse cowgirl.

Summary: Halloween Night and horror movies what could go wrong?

A/N: I can not do kinktober because I write to slow, so this is my Halloween fic instead. Also if you have sent me a request I am working on it so please be patient! If you enjoyed this Halloween themed Fic, please checkout my Halloween Fic with Peter B Parker here.

Word Count: 6,582

“Oh no please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I want to be in the sequel!”

Halloween night, alone with no plans but to watch the horror movie marathon on TV, pass out candy to trick-or-treaters, and gorge yourself on candy and popcorn.

The movie marathon was going strong. You had started with Nightmare on Elm Street, and now you have moved on to Scream. The marathon was the perfect way to get into the Halloween spirit. Halloween was the perfect night to get your spook on, everyone is entitled to one good scare on the spookiest night of the year. However, you didn't foresee yourself getting scared from the movies with having to constantly get up to pass out candy to eager trick-or-treaters.

The doorbell rang out causing you to heave yourself from the couch dusting popcorn derby from your chest you flip on your interior lights and answer the door.

“Trick or Treat!”

The little Bundle of kids cheered. Ranging in ages you surveyed the group with a smile. A sweet little princess, an impressive robot, and an oddly adorable zombie, with them a tepid teenager with his scary werewolf mask on top of his head. You assume the babysitter for the night. Quickly complementing their costumes you gave them each a handful of the sugary treats they were so desperate for. Chirping a thank you they all run off to the next house over.

Smiling as they run off you scan the crisp autumn night watching the masses of excited children cheering and laughing as they run from house to house. As you are greeting some more treaters running to your door, something catches your eye.

A dark figure seems to be slowly walking in the shadows of the sidewalks carefully avoiding running children and lights as it walks carefully by, surveying the rows of houses. Watching intently you quickly pass out the candy while trying to get a good look at the figure. Then one of the kids chirps a thank you causing you to smile down at them, once the kids run off your porch you look for the figure in the night and it seems to have disappeared. Okay, that was creepy. Maybe it was just a harmless kid, don't work yourself up.

And you didn’t the whole weird sighting had completely left your mind. You had finished Scream and moved on to Halloween, is it even truly Halloween if you haven't watched this movie at least once? Enthralled in the movie your lights are turned dim to get you into the atmosphere of the film. Then something makes you jump, and it wasn’t the shape on the screen.

Whipping your head towards the sound, it's like a soft tapping and it's coming from your window. This caused only one thought to rush through your brain- did I lock the window…

Slowly approaching the window you hear the tapping continue and you swear as you inch closer it becomes more rampant. Then as you reach for the curtain it seems to stop. It's probably just nothing, but the thought of that shadowy figure made all your confidence waver. If this is something you are screwed…maybe if you had some company you would be calmer.

Not wanting to be a horror movie cliche you start looking through your phone's contacts. You need someone dependable, scary, and someone you wouldn't mind hanging out with, like…

You stop scrolling and stare at the contact name: Miguel O’Hara…

Dependable- yes, he can be kinda a hardass but at work, he is always ready to give a helping hand to you every time you ask, even though he would not shy away from giving you shit when given the chance. Though you have grown to enjoy the teasing.

Scary- Uh, the dude is 6 '9' and built like a brick wall. It was one of the first things you noticed about him, The dude was huge! He could probably crush you if he needed to, though would that be so bad? It has become an office joke that when he's not at work he's living at the gym working out like crazy. How else could he be so big?

Now Miguel is your friend, you two had gotten close through your jobs at Alchemax, So it's only natural for a friend to let another friend come over right? Even if this said friend is quite attractive, with a gorgeous face, broad back, slender waist, and the best ass you have ever seen. Yeah, hanging out alone in your house shouldn't be a problem…Right?

Taking a deep breath you press the call button.

-Bring…-

-Brriinnngg…-

“Hello?”

“Um, Hey Miguel, are you busy?”

You hear Miguel shuffling around before he answers “What's wrong?”

Wow, he's pretty perceptive, you didn't realize how shaken up you sounded for him to ask you that so quickly. “Uh, I was wondering if you could…come over?”

There is a long moment of silence then what sounds like an exasperated sigh on Miguel's end. He busy…Maybe you should tell him never mind, you're the one who decided to watch horror movies alone and-

“Okay, I will be there shortly.”

Well that took zero convincing, “O-okay, see you then”

-click-

——-

Making sure to pick up your living room a bit you anxiously await for Miguel to arrive. The random tapping has stopped but you're still walking apprehensively through your home. Turning back on your lights you continue to watch the movie trying to distract yourself but you feel your hands getting clammy and anxiety rising. Were these movies just getting to you? Or Is there stuff happening? Worse than that, Is Miguel going to think you're crazy?

Checking your phone every couple of minutes waiting for a call or text from Miguel. He said he would be here shortly but it feels like forever, where is he? Having nervously eaten all your popcorn you go to make another bowl. Throwing the bag in the microwave you start the time and think about how you just saw this same situation in Scream. Waiting patiently you're starting to think you're overreacting a bit. That tapping could be anything, maybe when Miguel gets here you two can laugh at this. He has the most amazing laugh…

Then a sudden thumping breaks your daydream. Frozen, you don't move a muscle, you don't even dare to breathe as you slowly move your gaze to the window where the tapping had been. But, the thumping noise is fainter, and it's almost like something hitting something on your windows. For a second you think, is someone egging me? You thought you could avoid that because you got the good candy. Is someone messing with you? Maybe this is all in your head?

The thumping then turns into a window-rattling, like it's being pried open, your blood runs cold…

Eyes flicking around the room, your gaze gets glued towards the bathroom, and you clutch your cell phone tightly, is this happening…do I look? Absolutely not! Frantically you look at your phone. Where the hell is Miguel?

Then the sound of your doorbell chime sounds like a saving grace. Quickly you rush to open the door, but it doesn't budge. Danm-

Fumbling with the lock you quickly swing the door open and there he is. Miguel O’Hara, in all his beautifully intimidating glory. God, you could just kiss him. You didn't even care that he was looking at you like you were insane. Without a second thought, you're pulling him by his shirt inside, slamming your door shut. Turning to him with wild eyes the hysteric words flying from your mouth.

“Canyougocheckthebathroom, Iheardanoise and I’M Freaking out!”

Miguel just looks at you baffled before he swivels his head around responding with a casual sigh. “Where's the bathroom?”

Timidly you point down your dark hallway and Miguel instantly starts walking that way. Following close behind it takes everything in you not to cling to his jacket. Now you are usually a lot braver, but the oddness of the whole situation has you in a tissy.

Miguel stops at the closed bathroom door, turning his head over his shoulder he points his index finger to the door in a silent question. Nodding with a yes he opens the door with a confident swing walking through. You're more apprehensive as you peer through the doorway holding your hands tightly to your chest. Looking through your bathroom it's completely normal, apart from the mountain of a man looking around at it.

Turning to face you his chiseled face in a quizzical glare of ‘okay?’

Pointing to the window you meekly say “I thought I heard the window being opened..”

Nodding Miguel parts the curtains to reveal a shut window, going the extra mile he even tries to open it but it's locked. Closing the curtains back he turns to you placing his hands on his hips.

“Anything else?”

Looking at the shower you nudge your head at it. Seeming to roll his eyes slightly he opens the curtain to reveal an empty shower, murderer free. Sighing, your tension starts to ease up, everything seems fine, other than you acting like a damn spaz.

“You okay scaredy-cat?” he says with a smirk.

Rolling your eyes you're not amused by the nickname, “Yes I am fine, now can you give me a minute?”

Miguel shrugs with a smile and walks out of the bathroom, he turns like he's about to say something but you quickly slam the door closed, locking it. Pressing your back to the door you run your hands through your hair and down your face feeling ridiculous. Nothing is here to get you…plus Miguel is here you need to get a grip.

After regaining your composure, doing your business, washing your hands, and maybe putting on some mascara and fixing your hair a bit, you finally exit the bathroom. Walking into your living room you are met with the sight of Miguel walking out of the kitchen, jacket removed, revealing a black tee shirt that does everything for his muscular physique; the cherry on top, he has taken your popcorn from the microwave and poured it into a bowl. -well just make yourself at home the O’Hara

Feeling a bit awkward you decide it's the polite thing to thank him, “Thank you for coming over and checking my bathroom…”

Miguel nods plopping down on your couch and placing the popcorn on your coffee table, “you know, Maybe you shouldn’t be watching horror movies by yourself if you're just going to get scared by them”

Touché-

“Well…That's why I have you, you get to be my bodyguard” You say with a chuckle as you turn off your lights and slide down onto the couch next to him.

“I don’t know, I was working before you called…”

“Working?” This shouldn't be a surprise, of course, he was….”Well that's not a very fun Halloween”

“And getting scared by cheesy horror movies is?”

“Hey, At least it's festive, plus it’s not the movies that spooked me, some weird person was lurking around and this odd tapping, then the window…”

As you speak you look up and see that Miguel is listening intently, hanging on to each word that leaves your lips, you can't help but feel your cheeks blush from his fervid stare.

“I don’t know…maybe it was the movies…”

“I’ll stay”

“Huh?” You look at him confused

Miguel casually grabs a handful of popcorn “I said I’ll stay, I don't have to finish that work right now and you seem genuinely scared, though I think you have just been watching too many movies niña” he playfully nudges you with his elbow and you nudge him back making him laugh causing you to blush again.

“Plus…” he adds while dragging his eyes over your face, then down your body, studying your form for a moment “It will be..festive..” he looks back into your eyes and quickly averts his gaze to the movie, eating his popcorn casually.

-------

This is not how you saw your evening headed, alone in a dark room with Miguel. Sure you have had the odd fantasy of this moment before but there was no TV playing, and there were also no clothes…the popcorn was still present though…

Trying to be engrossed in the film you can’t help but take your eyes away to look over at Miguel. Fidgeting around on the couch, Danm, you need to relax. Miguel is being a good friend and just trying to watch a movie he doesn't need to be ogled by you!

As you continue to be at war with yourself your fidgeting and sighing must have gotten Miguel's attention. Because he’s then carefully wrapping an arm around your shoulder and bringing you in close. Feeling your face turn through three variations of blush you allow yourself to be pushed closer till your head is on his shoulder. Before you can even fumble with a response Miguel is speaking up. “You seem like you're scared…”

Not scared, just burning in desire for you, but I will take what I can get. “Thanks, Miguel.”

Completely ignoring the movie now, you don't even know what's on, you are just enjoying the closeness of Miguel's warm body. He might be the world's most cuddly man despite appearances. The best part was when a jumpscare would suddenly happen, he would hold you tighter like he was trying to protect you. His calm rhythmic breathing and how his fingers subtly rubbed loose strains of your hair it was so calming. Calling him over was the perfect move, everything was going great.

But there was something that just didn't make sense to you, “How come you're not at some kind of Halloween party or something?” you inquire looking up at his sculpted jaw.

Miguel shrugs, moving his eyes away from the screen to look at you “How come you're not at a Halloween party?” How come he can’t ever just give a straight answer-

Rolling your eyes you scoff “I’m not a fan of parties they tend to be overwhelming and usually kinda a letdown. Like I’m not going to go there and meet some sexy masked man to sweep me off my feet by fulfilling my every desire…”

Miguel looks at you confused and you just giggle “Heh, I read a story about it once…Anyways I like staying home to pass out the candy, it’s fun getting to make the kid's night.”

“You like kids?” he quickly asks.

“Sure, I mean I want some of my own one day.” As you answer you look over at Miguel and you think you see a slight smile on his lips as you speak.

“Seriously though, how come you weren't doing anything on Halloween?” you ask, trying to get the truth. “Didn't you get invited to go out?”

Miguel sighs, “Well yeah but, I’m like you, I don't like parties, horror movies are not my favorite, and kids don't trick or treat in my building, Plus…I was kinda waiting”

“Waiting? For what?” you say furrowing your brow at him.

“Well, I was waiting to see if you were going to invite me out” His sudden confession has your heart warming, and before you can get too mushy you slip out a laugh elbowing Miguel in the abs. “If you wanted to hang out you could have just called, you know?”

“I know, I guess I’m lucky you freaked yourself out so much you needed my company, scaredy-cat.” he teases leaning further into you and making your body warm.

“Hey! I was hearing and seeing things, Mister.” you poke his chest, almost hurting your finger in the process.

“Sure you were…” You and Miguel are both leaning pretty close by now, still laughing with each other. Then you two seem to notice the sudden proximity that has you both turning your heads quickly.

Miguel and you continue your playful banter as you watch the movie. He complains how everything is predictable, proving his theories by telling you who will die and in what order, you call him a buzz kill and playfully pinch his sides as he continues to ruin the movie. Miguel meets your pinching by doing it to you, this quickly escalates to a pinching war on the couch.

Lost in the playful fight you and Miguel feel the tension building around you until the ring of the doorbell cuts through the laughing. Sounds of excited laughter following the ring, you look to the door and smile at Miguel “Well, duty calls,” Miguel moves so you can slip past him, and you head towards the door. To your surprise, however, you notice that Miguel is following you. Looking at him confused he averts his eyes and places his hand on the back of his neck, “Thought I could help….” -what a cutie

Smiling wide you place the bowl of candy in his large hands. Swinging the door open you see a group of giggly kids eagerly holding out their baskets. They all go to sing out their Halloween phrase but suddenly stop with wide eyes and gasped expressions.

Looking at them confused you wonder what has them looking so shocked till you turn your head and look at Miguel. With the lights dimmed down in your house and the porch light only hitting parts of his face he looks terrifying, also are his eyes glowing red? What?

The youngest kid dressed like a fairy starts to cry, turning to hug her mom's leg. The others are too scared to even move. Miguel, in his infinite wisdom in social cues, leans over slightly and lets out a simple question “What will it be? Trick or Treat?”

Noticing the kids getting upset and equally the parents, you are quick to soothe things over. Flipping the door light on you makes it easier to see Miguel, making his faceless obscured, this seems to make the kids relax a bit and the moms and dad blush to see his strong physique and chiseled features.

“Wow! Miguel, don't all these kids look great? Don’t you love the costumes?” You nudge Miguel with a smile trying to get him to smile back.

Miguel, confused at first, doesn't understand, then lighting up he seemingly catches on “Oh yeah definitely all good, I like the Spider-Man” Miguel points to a kid who is dressed in the Blue and red vigilante outfit (A popular costume since the masked hero started saving Nueva York) the kid gives a thumbs up that makes Miguel smile that has everyone’s heart squeezing.

Finally with the kids more relaxed and the parents thoroughly flushed you crouch down, pulling Miguel with you to drop candy in the kid's bags. You take the time to ask each kid what they are and compliment the outfit. Miguel keeps his smile placed as he watches you with the kids. He seems to enjoy this. Finally, with all the kids giving their sweet rewards you and Miguel wave bye.

Nudging him in the side you get his attention “Try not to scare the kids huh?”

Miguel rolls his eyes “I didn't do it on purpose.”

Miguel walks back inside towards the movie and you go to reach for the light, but some sudden movement catches your attention. It looks like someone or something running down the side of the neighbor's house. Stepping out into the night air you look and see if you can see it. Inching closer and closer you're trying to catch a glimpse but then the sound of a playful scream down the road makes you jump. Looking back you see a father lifting his daughter and tossing her into the air making her scream and giggle. Taking a breath to calm yourself, you head back inside. Not seeing that the bushes have been rustling…

———-

Settling back onto the couch you are happily eating away at your candy. Trick-or-treaters are heading home for the night leaving the rest of the treats for you to enjoy. Miguel's eyes are focused on you as the candy slips past your lips.

“I can’t believe you actually can sit here and eat all that sugar”

You side-eye Miguel “Oh let me guess you don’t eat candy?” Probably not have you felt his abs in that shirt, completely solid-

“I just, haven’t had any that I like”

“Well, do you not like sweet things?”

Miguel looks at you for a moment like he wants to say something but quickly changes his mind “It depends…”

“Well here try this, it’s one of my favorites”

Quickly unwrapping the candy you hold it up for Miguel to take, but instead of grabbing it from you he leans down and takes it with his mouth.

Staring at him your thoughts seem to evaporate.-

Wait, did I just…did he really…did I feed him chocolate?

Staring at Miguel you meet his gaze with wide eyes, is he…no! He probably just took it because he just really wanted the chocolate…

While you're consumed by your thoughts your eyes stay locked with Miguel, he looks nervous. Like he's also surprised that you fed him chocolate, but he was the one who leaned in and ate from your hand! He fed himself!

Moving his eyes away for a moment he turns away and quickly swallows the candy, as he turns he seems like he wants to say something but instead his intense stare stays on your eyes. Feeling his arm on your shoulders move slowly to your hips curling tighter around you, a crashing wave of excitement washes over you. He slightly leans forward keeping his eyes on yours, it feels like you can’t breathe.

Heart is beating a mile a minute, all your nerves are on high alert, brain feels like it's frying. His scent, his touch, his intense stare! Wait, are his eyes red again, must be the lighting.

All of it is overwhelming. With ease, his large hand gently grabs your neck, bringing you closer to touch his plush lips to yours. Eyes shutting instantly you lean into the kiss, pressing yourself closer to his warmth. Seemingly groaning in surprise he leans more, parting his lips slightly to guide you through, mouth moving in tandem with him. Feeling the kiss deepen to a more intense passion you feel Your arousal ruining your panties and body heat reaching a fever pitch.

Breaking from the kiss to get air you stare at Miguel's face as he catches his breath, he looks downright majestic huffing for air it drives you wild, tightening your thighs together. Taking everything not to pounce him you back up brain scrambling from the hot man panting at you.

“I-is it Hot maybe I should o-open up my….Window! Yeah, open up my window!” Quickly you scramble to your window pushing past the curtains and lifting the window. The sudden cool breeze does nothing to cool your heated body. Standing there you take deep breaths to calm yourself, then large hands grabbing your hips make your attempts to calm down fail. Feeling Miguel nuzzle into your hair, then his breath fan against your neck has you almost moaning, you just can't help melting at his touch.

“I’m sorry if that was too sudden, I just…I’ve been wanting to do that..” His arms wrap around you in a hug making you fall into pure bliss

“For how long?” you say breathlessly leaning into his hold.

Humming Miguel thinks for a moment “About….five months now”

Your eyes shoot open and you turn around and swat his shoulder “You have liked me for five months and you haven't done anything about it!”

Miguel takes your playful hits for a few more moments before catching your wrist and pulling you in close, “you know if you wanted to kiss me you could have?”

“What? No way, I have been leaving hints this whole time you needed to meet me halfway!”

Miguel leans in closer, silencing your nagging with a kiss that you quickly fall into, playing with his hair as his hands roam over your body. Breaking away Miguel smiles down at you, “Is this meeting you halfway?”

Giving a slight pout you look at him with doe eyes “All I'm saying is that we could have been doing stuff sooner if you would have done something.”

Miguel quickly lifts you kissing you passionately carrying you blindly to the bedroom, when you feel your back hit your bedroom door you break the kiss looking down at his smirking face. “Well let's make up for lost time, shall we?”

Fumbling with your doorknob trying to open your door, but he swiftly moves your hand, opening the door in a fluid motion. Unable to contain your desires, you feverishly pull on his shirt while his hands fumble with your leggings. Once his shirt is off you take a second to admire his body he just chuckles at you before he's undoing his pants, while taking your top off you watch as his cock springs out from its confines slapping against his abdomen.

Now fully exposed to one another he can't help but lick his bottom lip taking in all your soft curves. You're equally hypnotized by his monstrous phasic and the massive length that causes your legs to shake. Seeing your nervousness he's quick to relax you.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make you feel good.” Running his hands all over he gets behind you and walks you to your bed. Pushing you against the bed you're falling on the plush mattress on your hands and knees.

Miguel's large digits can be felt spreading open your wet folds, you can only whimper as he runs his other finger up and down teasing you.

“Danm, you're so wet…”

Before you can give a rebuttal you feel him lick a long strip up your cunt. All you can do is let out a squeak as he ravenously eats your pussy, licking at your slick walls. All you can do is drop to your elbows moaning his name, as he hums and prods his tongue in your quivering slit.

Finally needing to break for air he moves away, his warm breath fanning over your wet cunt making you squeeze your legs together. Turning your head over your shoulder to look at Miguel and you almost cum right there. He's panting like a damn animal as a mixture of your arousal and his spit coat his chin in a shining sheen. The most alarming thing is that his eyes are blown out in hungry lust “Miguel…” you whimper his name breathlessly.

“Sorry hermosa, you're just so sweet..” with that he's spreading you open and back to eating your pussy like a starved man making you approach your high. Feeling your body reaching its peak you grind your hips into his face making him latch onto your swollen clit, sucking and twirling his tongue on it.

“Oh my god! Miguel! Ah!”

Knowing exactly what he's doing he leans in, humming onto your clit more, sliding two fingers into your slick cunt. moving his fingers in slowly he's spreading you open to accommodate every enticing inch. Once he's knuckle deep he starts pumping his large fingers in and out. Practically drooling now from his pumping plus the hungry licking and sucking of your clit you feel in bliss. It's not until Miguel is letting out a low groan into your cunt that you start seeing stars.

Trying to squirm away you try to prevent what's about to happen but Miguel grabs a hold of your hips not allowing you to move, continuing his low groans and deep pumping. The white-hot rush washes over you and all you can do is scream his name as you cum, Miguel not wanting to waste a drop of your sweet essence quickly licks and sucks every drop from you, helping you ride your high on his face.

Coming down from your high you feel Miguel's large hands squeezing your waist, “So good for me baby, so fucking sweet..”

Before you can even fully get back to your senses Miguel is Pulling you up to press your back to his chest, “now keep being my good girl and ride me..” he growls into your ear.

Laying down on the bed he steadies your hips as you grab his massive length angling it to tease your slit. His hot tip feels so good teasingly poking at your slit. Looking over your shoulder your eyes fall to Miguel, he looks like he can't take any more of your teasing. Grabbing your hair he roughly pulls making your back arch suddenly “Fucking ride it,”

Slowly lowering yourself on his cock you feel the stretch making your toes curl, Miguel's large hands rub soft circles on your hips as you stretch yourself full. You're unable to help your mewing of his name as you fully press down to take him all. Not even moving yet your eyes are rolling at the way his tip is already nudging your cervix. Miguel continues to rub his hands up and down your back cooing sweet nothings about how you're such a good girl, his good girl.

Feeling him throb in you, you're ready for more so you slowly start raising your hips and bringing yourself down, with each motion your cunt clenches down on him savoring the stretch. Once you're accommodated to his size you pick up your pace moving faster and pushing him in deeper, his hot tip has you losing your mind. Grabbing onto your breast pinching and twisting your buds, you're losing it moaning and crying out his name.

Egged on by your enthusiasm Miguel grips your hips and thrusts deeper, “That's my girl, take it, baby, ah fuck, my cock is yours”

“Its mine..ah fucking mine” you cry out bouncing faster

You start to feel the coil in your stomach tightening, feeling your body heating up to a fever pitch. Miguel is right with you approaching as high as he thrust harder cock throbbing and heating to a mouth-watering burn. Grunts falling on deaf ears you're too lost in the chase or your second orgasm, your only focus is to milk him dry, to feel his thick seed fill you.

The chase gets halted when suddenly Miguel is leaning forward kissing the back of your neck, hooking his arms under your knees. Locking his hands behind your head, the contorting has him fucking your pussy impossibly deeper, his breath is ragged as he moans, “I'm going to ruin this fucking pussy!”

“Fuck! Ruin me miggy!” You didn’t need to ask him twice he's fucking you hard, his in your stomach at this point. The arousal from your cunt is dripping down to your ass as he just takes full control over you. Chest feels on fire as you gasp from his pace which shows no sign of relenting till his cumming deep inside you.

Practically there you feel your coil about to give, and then Miguel slows his strong thrust to a stop, his breath getting quiet. Turning back to whine at the sudden loss of friction you hear it too…the sound of your living room window sliding up. Still caged in his grip from the Full Nelson you can only look up in horror, your house is being broken into! You weren’t paranoid!

Miguel slowly releases you from his hold and gently slides out of you moving you to the side of the bed. You can’t help the slight moan you give from not being full of him anymore. Miguel stands up and looks at you placing a finger to his lip reminding you to be silent, his intense eyes looking like they shine red. Quickly following his silence demands you cover your mouth with your hands.

Slow footsteps can be heard walking through the house and your eyes widen. Who was in here? What is happening?

Miguel slowly and steadily puts his pants on (disregarding his underwear) and you wrap yourself in a robe. Miguel goes to open the door of the bedroom but you quickly grab his hand to hold him back. Looking up at him with pleading eyes you try and urge him not to go out there, it’s dangerous he could get hurt.

Without words, Miguel places his hand on your cheek and gives a soft kiss to your lips, a reassurance that everything will be okay. You hate how much it calms you at the moment but can’t help how you surrender to it.

Miguel goes to open the door but it’s too late, the door flies open and you see a masked intruder dressed in all black. Screaming in terror you hide behind Miguel’s tall stature. To your surprise the intruder also screams when you are, jumping backwards they pin themselves to the wall. Wait? What kind of intruder jumps in surprise? As you shake in fear and confusion Miguel just stares daggers at the person.

Before you know it the intruder is cussing and running towards the door but Miguel is not having it, he pursues the intruder in a quick sprint. It was honestly a pathetic sight, the intruder scrambling to unlock your front door while the monster of a man Miguel goes to grab him.

After successfully slipping through the door the masked person starts running down your driveway. However, they were not quick enough, with an incredible force Miguel grabbed the masked person’s shoulder and slammed them to the ground in one swift motion. With the way he swiftly maneuvered it was like Miguel has done it thousands of times.

Thoroughly pissed off Miguel lifts the now limp figure in the air. Now seeing the comparison between the two you see how the guy didn’t even stand a chance to Miguel, in fact, the figure now seems to be quite slender. Carefully you approach Miguel and the figure.

in an animalistic growl, Miguel finally speaks. “What are you doing breaking into y/ns house…”

The figure lets out a whimper of “Who?” the continues in a pathetic plea,

“Please sir don’t kill me,” Sir? What? That’s not how intruders sound. Miguel lifts the mask off the person's face to reveal a young man probably a freshman in high school looking like he’s about to pee himself. The young man turns to you with desperate eyes.

“Ma’am, can you tell your husband to put me down?” Okay, not my husband but I’m not going to correct them.

“Um, first you need to explain why you were breaking in before I call the police “

The kid lets out a whine “Please don’t! it was just a stupid prank, I was supposed to scare Kenny Crain.” The kid's face flushes and starts to cry

Looking at them confused, you ask, “Kenny Crain?”

The kid sadly nods and Miguel’s grip tightens, You continue “No Kenny Crain lives here?” Gesturing to your house.

The kid's tears stop and he looks at you in shock “wait this isn't 945?”

You shake your head “This is 925”

The kid stops crying and looks to a nearby bush “TYLER YOU FUCKING IDIOT! You scoped the wrong house!”

A bush rustles before letting out a pathetic “sorry-“

Miguel drops the teenager from his grasp to the ground, he makes a sit-down motion with his hand and the teen eagerly obeys.

With long strides, Miguel goes to the bush and plucks the other teenager out lifting him by the collar and placing him next to his friend.

Watching as Miguel scolds the teenager you feel a smile creep across your face and that same tingly feeling in your stomach, Miguel O’Hara your hero.

Walking over you grab Miguel’s arm causing him to fall silent from his reprimanding of the two teens.

“Miguel, I think they learned their lesson.” You look at the two pathetic-looking teens and they nod urgently.

Miguel stares at the two young men again, not over what they did “You two, go home and don’t ever do anything like this again. Or else….”

With that the teens start scrambling and apologizing, running off into the late Halloween night. Your eyes fall to Miguel, his bare chest heaving as he watches the boys run off in irritation, he looks gorgeous. Miguel had come to protect you again, it’s only right you repay him. Sliding your arms around his waist you press soft kisses to his warm body.

Tease muscles begin to relax with each passing kiss from your soft lips. Swiftly he turns around and looks down at you. You thought he looked fantastic during the day right now he looks damn ethereal. A soft kiss is pressed to your lips, it's caring and full of passion.

Slipping his tongue past your lips you suddenly feel the night air grazing across your ass as Miguel lifts your robe before his warm hands come to grip you rear, making you whimper.

Breaking the kiss in one fluid motion Miguel scoops you from your feet and carries you into your home. The kiss becomes hungrier with each passing moment, and before you know it you're crashing onto your sofa with Miguel over you caging you beneath his hard body. Moans escape your lips as he gropes your body, his hands quickly undo your robe, then quickly grab a hold of your breast to play with your sensitive buds, his tongue drags over them coating them in his saliva.

Pulling away you look at him with blown-out eyes buckling your hips uncontrollably toward him, it's like your in heat. Chuckling softly he bites his lip and he starts to undo his pants, you're still shuddering with anticipation when his cock springs out.

“You didn't want to go back to the bedroom?” you ask in a shaky breath, holding your hands out to him. Did you want to go back to the room, no you just want to tease him.

Grabbing a hold of your hands he leans in placing kisses on your fingers and your knuckles before he pins them over your head.

“I thought you wanted to finish your silly horror movie marathon,” he coos

Grabbing his length with the free hand he slaps it against your aching cunt causing you to jolt your hips up with a quick moan. Proud of himself for the reaction he gets from you he continues as he rubs his cock through your wet folds to gather your arousal,

“figured we could multitask.”

With that he slowly seathes himself into your wet heat, your moaning and clawing in back relishing in that fullness you're sure to get addicted to. Miguel can't help but throw his head back at how your pussy sucks him in tightening around him instantly and he's not even fully in yet. Miguel just keeps pumping his hard cock through your velvety tight walls, watching your brain get hazier with each thrust that kisses your cervix, keeping at this you're sure to forget to even breathe let alone watch a movie.

The Tv seems like a faint buzz between the sounds of Miguel's thrusts and grunts married with your whimpering pants and squelching pussy. The TV catches your attention for a single moment -” Don’t go away, we are playing all Your horror favorites till the witching hour!”

Miguel grabs your chin and brushes his thumb across your wet lips, a mischievous smirk on his lips makes your sex tighten on him, “Looks like we’re in for a long night baby.”

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peterman-spideyparker · 4 months

Text

Drunk on You (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! Court, aka @chvoswxtch, is a talented genius amazing superstar talent whose fic "ours." has consumed my mind all week and has inspired me. I hope I've done you proud, and I hope you like it! :)

Summary: Yours and Matt's relationship is still relatively new, but it's different in every conceivable way, and it's amazing. His plans for a nice romantic night in, however, get thrown for a loop before you arrive, and all he can think of is you.

Warnings: Fluff, Foggy and Karen being Foggy and Karen, shameless smut (talk of birth control and side effects, f!receiving oral, fingering, m!receiving oral, protected p in v sex, failed attempt at bondage, dirty talk, praise), swearing, these guys are basically soulmates, okay, they're in love and have thought about a future together and there's a whole detailed world for them in my head

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, Karen Page

Word Count: 3,586

Matt’s hands slide over his watch face for the time. “Do you guys think you can handle things here for the rest of the day?” he asks his friends.

“I think we can handle it,” Foggy hums, taking in the quiet office space around them. “You have a date with that girl, don’t you? Or is it a different one?”

“Nope, it should be the same girl,” Karen says. “It’s still within the time frame.”

Matt furrows his brows as he turns toward his friends. “Time frame?”

“Do we really need to go over this again, Mr. Serial Dater?” Foggy sighs. “How many girls did you see last year alone?”

“I don’t—.”

“Ten,” Karen supplements. “I mean, technically, it was nine because you dated the same girl twice, but they all fizzled out just as soon as they started. None of them lasted over two months.”

“And that’s not counting hookups we don’t know about. If my math is right, we’re almost at the two month mark in—.” Foggy turns to look at the calendar hanging on the wall to confirm. “—about a half of a week.”

“Thank you for the countdown, Father Time, but I don’t see that happening with her. She’s different.”

“Do we at least get her name? Since she’s so different than the others, that is,” Karen tries hopefully, and Matt can tell she’s eagerly biting her lip.

“(Y/N),” he concedes. “Her name is (Y/N). (Y/N/N).”

“Ooh, full name and a nickname. Are you treating (Y/N) to a fancy night out?” Foggy asks.

“Nope,” Matt grins, sliding on his jacket.

“Oh?” Karen hums. “Finally going to bring her to Josie’s?”

“So you guys can just happen to stroll in? No,” Matt continues to smile. “Not that it’s any of your business, but that’s where we met.”

“So, no fancy restaurant, no Josie’s . . .”

“I’m cooking for her at my place tonight. Happy now?”

Foggy and Karen ooh at him like a bunch of fifth graders.

“Well, here’s hoping she’s a heavy sleeper in case you hear a bank robbery across town and need to suit up.”

“Well, she knows.”

He can tell the way that they look at him, absolutely stunned. “Knows?” Karen repeats.

Matt puts his fingers up by his head to mimic his devil horns.

“EXCUSE ME?” Foggy shouts.

“It’s a long story, guys, and I have a dinner to prepare.”

“Let us know when the wedding is!” Foggy shouts as Matt leaves the office. “Knows . . . She knows! . . .”

Matt finishes plating the food before lighting the candles on the table, blowing out the match as he freezes in his tracks. His senses are good—he can always tell when you’re near, even though you haven’t been seeing one another long. But this time, even though you’re about a block away, it feels like you’re so much closer. Your scent is much stronger than usual. It’s not perfume, shampoo, or detergent clinging to your dress—it’s you. Matt can practically taste you on his tongue when he lets out a deep breath through his mouth, and it drives him wild. His thoughts are fuzzy, and all he can think of is how he wants his hands on you, dragging over every dip and curve of your body right until he’s between—.

Matt practically jumps out of his skin when you rap at his door. With one more deep breath and a quick adjustment to his pants, he makes his way to the door, swinging it open and greeting you with a warm smile. As soon as the door is even open a crack, you drown his senses. He feels almost drunk, and he just wants you.

“Hi,” he smiles, leaning in for a kiss. You meet him halfway, pressing your front flush against his, resting a gentle hand on his waist. He pulls you in even further, desperately trying to deepen the kiss. You smile and giggle into the embrace before you lean back and look up at him.

“Hello to you, too,” you smile. “It smells really good in here, and you look like quite the chef with your sleeves all rolled up and a towel over your shoulder.”

“You like the look, hm?” he teases, closing the door close and kissing your neck some more as he walks you into the loft.

“I do. I like it so much, I almost dropped the bottle of wine I brought, especially if you keep kissing that spot.”

He pulls back and kisses the top of your head. “Well, I’m glad you’ve both survived this far.” Matt, on the other hand, is barely holding on. Every second that you’ve been here—the whole 90 of them—he’s had to restrain himself from jumping on you the way he so desperately wants.

“How about we sit first?” Matt hums, giving your arm a squeeze.

“You’ve plated everything. I’d hate for the food to get cold. This looks lovely.” You lean over, kissing his cheek. As your lips leave his skin, he turns into you, kissing you deeply before dragging his embraces down your neck and up to the sweet spot behind your ear, humming in delight as he takes you in and kisses your skin. You let out a soft moan, your knees buckling slightly as you lean into him and hold onto his body.

“‘m pretty sure that this is supposed to happen after dinner,” you swallow, your fingers desperately holding onto his arms.

“Dinner can wait. You smell too good,” he murmurs into your skin, taking the wine from your hand and putting it on the island.

“I—!”

You suck in a breath in surprise when his hands travel low and squeeze at your hips.

“You smell good,” he repeats, his voice dipping low. “Better than dinner—better than it tastes.”

Your hands have a mind of their own, moving up his arms, letting your fingers rake through his hair.

“Matt . . .” you breathe. He can sense how your heart races as you hold him close.

“I can stop if you want to,” he hums, dragging his kisses down along your collarbone. “But I really don’t want to angel.”

You let out a sigh that goes straight to his cock. “I-I don’t have anything,” you tremble, and Matt notices a slight edge of something else in your voice. You sound a little nervous, but it’s not like the two of you haven’t had sex before. There’s been a few times where you’ve done just this—throw your date plans out the window to just spend the night exploring one another’s bodies over and over until you’re both so worn you turn into a tangled mess of limbs in bedsheets. And then it clicks for him. Your smell being extra strong, your elevated temperature, your racing heart, and now the slight nervous tremble in your voice. You’ve been together for two months, and he’s been with you around the time of your period, and even during your period, but as he wracks his brain to work on timelines, he’s positive there’s only one solution.

You’re ovulating.

And you know it.

Matt pulls back slowly, his hands still on your hips as you face him. He desperately works to find your eyes, even though he knows he’ll never be able to, not in the way he wants.

“And you’re . . . you’re not on . . .?” He doesn’t want to finish the sentence—it makes him feel slimy asking that, but he wants to hear you say it rather than conclude based on assumption, even if that assumption is rooted in everything your body is telling him.

“I-I’m not,” you confirm. “The side effects and stories I’ve heard from friends . . .” You shrug. “It didn’t seem worth it. As contraception or a way to help with periods.” He senses another shift in you, but this one is different. You’re embarrassed, ashamed even.

“Hey,” Matt says softly, kissing you tenderly. “It’s your body. You need to do what’s best for it.”

You nuzzle into his touch, and he lets out a little hum. “I just hate to have killed the mood. Especially since I smell so irresistible, apparently. And those kisses were pretty damn nice.”

Matt can hear how you smile while you speak when an idea comes to his mind.

“What’s that face?” you smirk, holding onto him adoringly.

“We can still keep the mood going. I mean, I have condoms, but, if you don’t want to use them, I have another idea. All you have to do is sit down and look pretty for me.”

You eagerly bite your lip, making Matt chuckle. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your lips before leading you to his bedroom.

“Sit down for me, angel,” he hums. “And spread your legs nice and wide for me.”

With a smile, you do as he asks as he softly kisses up your thighs, moving back and forth between each leg until he’s the apex, pressing a large open-mouthed kiss to your covered core. You take in a sharp breath as he slowly kisses and licks at you. For just how badly Matt wants you, he’s surprised and impressed with the restraint he’s showing. You whimper and moan as he begins to set his pace, one of your hands moving to his head and tugging on his hair, urging him to get closer. Between your arousal and his mouth, your panties are absolutely soaked within minutes.

“Hey,” you whine as he removes his mouth from you. “I was enjoying that.”

“I know,” he grins, sliding his hands up your legs until his thumbs hook around your panties and slide them down your legs before tossing them up behind you on the bed. “Those are mine, now.”

You chuckle, your laughs turning into a moan when he reattaches his lips to your dripping core. Your sounds are louder, more unrestrained now that his lips are on your dripping ones. The way you squirm against Matt’s face only eggs him on, the rotations of your hips are only helping drive your scent further into his nose, injecting pure you into his body. Wet sounds fill the room, even with his face as buried deep as it is, and he can sense the way you lean back more and more until you’re flat on your back on the mattress, still managing to pull at his hair while he eats you out. You’re done for as soon as he slips two fingers in you. You tremble with an intense orgasm as you cry out so hard, Matt can tell it hurts your lungs a little. You squeeze his head with your thighs, and Matt uses his free hand to grip onto your hip and hold you closer, bringing him on the verge of suffocation by pussy—which wouldn’t be the worst way to go, if he’s being honest.

Matt continues to lick and slurp up your juices, pushing you into overstimulation territory, your mews still music to his ears but with a tinge of discomfort, but not before you cum again and coat his face with your delicious release. Moving his lips off of your clit, he gently licks up your mess, pressing kisses all over your pelvis before lifting his head up above the skirt of your dress.

“Better than anything I could’ve cooked,” he grins as he proudly wears your slick on his face. “So good, I want to go back for seconds.”

“You gotta give me a second, tiger,” you breathily laugh, caressing the side of his face, and he desperately turns his head to kiss your palm. “Maybe while I recoop, you can get some condoms? Or at least put the dinner in the fridge so we don’t get poisoned when we get around to actually eating it.”

Matt smiles and pounces on you, caging your body beneath his before holding your face in his hands as he kisses you. You giggle and chase his lips happily, and Matt slips his tongue into your mouth to let you taste yourself even better. You squeal in delight as he presses you into the mattress, and he feels like a giddy teenager in love.

Shit. He loves you.

He was pretty sure he did—from the moment he met you, he didn’t want to even think about dating anyone else. And call it the pheromones he’s undoubtedly drunk on right now, but he doesn’t see himself being with anyone but you for the rest of his life.

“What’s on your mind, pretty boy?” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair, and he can tell you’re looking at him as if he’s all the stars in the sky.

Yeah, he loves you.

“You,” he hums. “I got lucky, getting you in my life.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.” This time, it’s your turn to pull him down for a sweet kiss, and Matt feels as if his heart might explode.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs against your lips. “Stay just like this.”

“Kay,” you hum.

Matt presses one more kiss to your lips before he scurries out of his room, blowing out the candles, putting the plates in the fridge, and grabbing a box of condoms from his bathroom. When he comes back into his room, he finds you in the same spot he let you, pure relaxation covering you from your head to your toes.

“You’ve got the stuff,” you smirk, and Matt can’t help but do the same.

“I do,” he hums as he walks back to you, sitting on the mattress, leaning you up to snuggle into his side. “Are you sure you want to do this tonight? Because trust me, as much as I want to do this with you right now, I can wait until a better time. I don’t mind sticking my head back down between your legs and spending the rest of the night there. I’ll be just as happy there.”

Your eyes flutter shut, leaning into his body and kissing him. “I’m sure. And trust me, if that’s what you eat pussy like when I’m ovulating, I can’t wait to feel how you fuck me. No way I’m waiting to experience that.”

The last part seems to slip out past your lips before you can realize it, and you both know what it implies. A small smile pulls at the corners of Matt’s lips, and he leans forward to kiss you again before you have a chance to feel embarrassed, resting his forehead on yours. That’s not a conversation for tonight, but he’s touched that you’ve even considered it. “Alright, if you’re sure,” he whispers. “But you need to open the package.”

“I will, but first . . .” You straddle his lap and push him down on the mattress. “I think I need to take care of that painful looking bulge in your pants.”

Matt licks his lips in anticipation, listening to how you work yourself over him. You lean over, kissing and sucking a little mark into his neck before you unknot his tie and unbutton his shirt.

“Do you trust me, Matt?” you ask.

“Completely,” he smiles.

Taking his tie, you gently move his hands up above his head and begin to knot his fabric around his wrists.

“Is it too tight?” you ask, brushing hair out of his face as if you’re clearing his line of sight.

“‘s perfect,” he assures. “So are you.”

He can sense how you blush before you lean down and kiss him, softly dragging embraces down his exposed skin until you get to his pants, undoing his belt and sliding it off, and taking care of his pants, sliding it off his hips, leaving him exposed. He’s painfully hard—he’s surprised he didn’t cum in his pants while he was up to his eyeballs in (Y/N). He sucks in a breath between his teeth when your hand wraps around him, giving him some gentle pumps before you lean down and start to use your mouth. You press feather-light kisses on the underside of his shaft, licking his frenulum and gently caressing his balls. You get the tip of him in your mouth, so warm and wet, he swallows hard.

“Wait,” he begs. “‘m not gonna last if you keep going like that.”

You smirk as you bring your mouth down toward his base before you let your hot breath spread over him.

“We both know that this isn’t the first time you’ll be cumming tonight, Matty,” you hum.

You lick along the vein in his shaft until you’re back at the tip, opening your mouth and going down on him. Matt cries out at the top of his lungs, his hips bucking up as he lets out his release. He breaks out of the satin restraint, his hands moving to the sides of your face, not to force you down, but just to have his hands on you. When you finish sucking him dry, you pull off, licking your lips before you swallow.

“I’m offended. You broke out of my knot,” you chuckle.

“Sorry,” he says with a blissed, dopey smirk.

“No, don’t apologize. It was hot. Like, really hot. Like, we’re going to have to do something like that in the future hot.”

“Are we now?”

“Mmm. Now, where’d you put that box of condoms?”

Leaning over, you grab the box and pull out the foil package, tearing it open while he gets up and takes off the rest of his clothes before you carefully slide on the latex.

“Sweetheart, I think you’re a little overdressed,” he hums as his hands slide up under your dress.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” you grin.

His hands grip the zipper, pulling it down the track before sliding it off of your body, his hands then deftly moving to remove your bra.

“There we go,” he smiles before leaning in and taking one of your breasts into his mouth, letting himself get lost in the soft, supple flesh. You both roll around in the bed until you’re under him, Matt sliding into you.

“Aah!” you cry out, your fingers grabbing a bruising grip onto his shoulders. It gets stronger the further that he pushes into you. Even with two orgasms and plenty of your arousal dripping from between your legs, you’re still so tight.

“That’s it,” he hums. “That’s it, you’re taking me so well, sweetheart.”

“Fuck!” you cry out, throwing your head back as you scratch angry red lines down his back.

“A little more, angel, you can do it. You can do it . . . Good girl, just like that.”

You both let out a grunt when he bottoms out in you, taking a moment to adjust.

“Just say the word for me, and I’ll start moving.”

“I-I need you,” you say almost immediately. “Matt, please, start moving. D-Don’t hold back.”

He takes your face in his hands, kissing you deeply before he starts thrusting. He does as you ask, not starting slow like he has in your past sexual encounters. Your moans and cries are music to his ears, spurring him on to go even faster, making you cry out louder.

“Matt!” you cry with a guttural moan. “Yes! You’re so deep!”

“Made f’me,” Matt growls as he throws your legs up over his shoulders and folding you in half. “Mine.”

“Yours! I’m yours!”

Matt slithers a hand up your body, mapping out your soft skin with his touch until his hand is around your neck, holding your jaw, fingers spread before giving it a light squeeze. He listens to how your body reacts immediately, your warm, wet, tight cunt squeezing his cock as a response as you moan and bite your lip.

Matt’s going to have fun with that fact.

“Are you ready to cum, sweetheart?” he coos as he slams into you so hard, he’s pretty sure that your cunt might be permanently stretched and remolded to match the shape of his cock. “Can you cum around my cock for me?”

“Yes,” you whimper, one of your hands dropping to his forearm, giving it a squeeze. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop! Make me cum—make me cum hard! Just don’t stop!”

Matt lowers himself to kiss you deeply, your bodies a tangled, squished mess as he keeps pounding into you. You hold onto his face desperately, deepening the connection and the kiss until you open your mouth to let out an unbridled cry of pleasure. It hurts his ears, but what a sound to go deaf to. His hand slides from your neck, moving to higher up on your waist as he kisses you through your high, his sweaty forehead eventually falling to the crook of your neck as he experiences his own release.

The two of you are a panting, sweaty mess, tangled together and coming back to your senses while he softens inside of you. A few minutes pass, and he finally musters the energy to pull out of you, tying off the condom and throwing it in the trash by his bed.

“If you’re gonna fuck me like that every time I ovulate,” you pant, kissing his cheek before resting your forehead on his temple. “I’m in for a real treat.”

Matt chuckles, enjoying the taste of your skin and how it mixes with your sweat. In that moment, everything is calm, quiet . . . everything makes sense.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he hums, his hands roaming your body. “We’re not done yet.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop @itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore @dpaccione @catnip987 @blackhawkfanatic

Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @loves0phelia

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yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Five

Chapter Five: Golden Boy

Plot: Zava arrives at Richmond and some of the staff are more thrilled than others…specifically Y/n.

Warnings: f!reader, language, (16+)

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: This chapter was quick to be cranked out, and Mr. Tartt finally enters the chat.

I’ve gotten a few requests for tags and as with most my fics, I’m only tagging 16+ with ages in bios. Looking out for younger eyes 👀

Hope you enjoy this one!

——————

The moment Zava had uttered the word ‘Richmond,’ Nelson Road was thrown into complete chaos.

Y/n, Keeley and Higgins had been working overtime overseeing plans for the official welcome event. Not only did Zava’s level of fame demand a big deal, but the whole city of Richmond was beside themselves with glee. They had to go all out.

“Okay,” Y/n said, typing out a quick text at Keeley’s desk, “Higgins says the red carpet was just delivered along with the banners.”

“Perfect,” Keeley replied, ticking off a box of the event’s long to-do list, “Did he say anything about ticket sales?”

Y/n and Keeley had been double-teaming the matter of Zava’s recruitment and had been meeting or speaking each morning since the Chelsea match. They were beginning to find their rhythm, passing tasks back and forth with a smooth stream of communication.

“Sold out,” Y/n answered, locking her phone and setting it down with a smile, “And have you been checking Twitter?”

“Oh, I know,” Keeley’s eyes widened, “Richmond’s been trending nearly every day. The power of celebrity!”

It was a PR blessing. Zava’s signing with the Greyhounds had completely blotted out the sewer meme, Nathan Shelley’s hateful comments, West Ham…the world’s eyes were on Richmond in the best possible way.

“Alright, so 10AM for the event’s start,” Y/n ran her pen down her task-list, “I doubt he’ll want to take pictures with fans, but there’s time to. But maybe a group one with the team would be a good idea?”

There was a light knock on Keeley’s door.

“Come in,” she called.

Opening and revealing Keeley’s latest hire, her friend Shandy, Y/n instinctively stiffened a little.

“I just thought of a great idea,” Shandy said with great enthusiasm, “What if we had…Zava dancers? Like they get for sports in the States,” Shandy gestured to Y/n, ”What do you think?”

Y/n and Keeley both wore the same over-exaggerated smile as they listened. Visions of Laker Girls and Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders danced through their minds.

“That’s…” Y/n slowly nodded, glancing over to Keeley, “An idea.”

“It certainly is,” Keeley nodded back before turning to Shandy, “But I don’t think we’ve got time to pull it together.”

Shandy’s shoulders fell in disappointment, “Oh, that’s true,” she pointed between Keeley and Y/n, “But still, save it for another time.”

“Definitely,” both women replied encouragingly, satisfying Shandy enough to head back to her desk.

Spending so much time at the KJPR office had presented Y/n the opportunity to help Keeley get Shandy adjusted to corporate life. It hadn’t taken more than two days for Y/n to realize it was a task that might kill her. She was carrying on as a favor to Keeley.

“Oh,” Keeley reached across and tapped the back of Y/n’s hand, “How’s it going, having Trent around?”

“Well, he’s catching us on a good week,” Y/n sighed as she began to gather her things. She had to get to Nelson Road and help oversee set-up with Higgins. “To be honest, I haven’t seen much of him, or anyone for that matter. It’s just been me and Higgins rushing in and out of each other’s offices. And Dani knocking on my door at least once a day asking if we should be doing more for Zava’s arrival.”

Keeley smiled as Y/n’s sentences ran on, “Oi, remember to breathe.”

Y/n chuckled, she’d been holding her breath since her first day at Richmond. There was no exhalation in sight.

“I’ll breathe,” she replied, opening the door and looking back to her boss, “Once this is over.”

—————————

The next day, Nelson Road Stadium was bustling as soon as there was light in the sky. Come 10AM, the stands were packed with fans, all awaiting the arrival of the newest Greyhound….

Who hadn’t bothered to show up.

“Where the hell is he?” Rebecca hissed as Keeley, Higgins and Y/n all did double time on their phones, “Leslie! We do have a signed contract, don’t we?”

“Of course,” Higgins replied, “We have an e-signature. That’s legally binding,” his confident smile began to waver, “I think. I’ll make a call.”

Higgins went off with his phone while Keeley nudged Rebecca, “His agent hasn’t heard from him, but she’s tracked his phone, which is currently in Mykonos.”

“If he’s changed his mind again,” Rebecca whispered, “I’m going to look like an absolute asshole.”

“Well, there’s been no sightings of him anywhere,” Y/n continued scouring Twitter, “Doesn’t mean he’s not here…” she paused, flipping perspectives, “But it also doesn’t mean he is.”

“Maybe we can try and cheer them up somehow?” Keeley suggested, scanning the pack of bored reporters surrounding them.

Seated in the row behind them, Shandy popped up, “Do you want me to take my shirt off and run across the pitch?”

As Y/n attempted a deep breath, Rebecca smiled knowingly, “You must be Shandy.”

“Shandy’s shadowing Y/n and I for the day,” Keeley answered excitedly, “To get the hang of things, you know?”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Shandy greeted Rebecca, “I’d love to go for a coffee and pick your brain sometime. Like, how tall are you?”

Y/n glanced up from her phone to catch Rebecca’s confused expression, meeting her boss’s eyes and giving a thin-lipped smile.

“Shandy,” Keeley turned to her employee, “Would you go to concessions and start selling merch at half price?”

“Great idea,” Shandy smiled before back tracking the step she’d taken.

“Keep your shirt on,” Keeley directed sweetly.

“Right, of course,” Shandy nodded, patting Rebecca and Y/n on the shoulders, “Bye, babes.”

“She’s a live one,” Rebecca chuckled before checking her watch.

If anything was said after that, Y/n’s ears didn’t register it. All she could hear were the mumbles and murmurs of the reporters surrounding them. Where’s Zava? Is he ever coming? Did he change his mind? Her mind was working overtime trying to figure out how to dig their way out of this, in case he really had ditched them. She couldn’t stand to have another failure heaped on her shoulders.

Ted’s midwestern accent broke through the noise of her head.

“Hey, guys,” he whispered, taking Higgins’ empty seat, “Are we sure that Zava has the right address? I hate to think he’s sittin’ in the middle of Virginia right now waiting for us, you know?”

Higgins came walking back with an answer, “So, I just talked to legal about Zava’s contract. An e-signature is 100% binding. Tiny wrinkle, instead of signing his name, he signed, ‘You’re Welcome.’”

Y/n pursed her lips, “Lovely.”

“Shit,” Rebecca cursed, her nerves growing by the second, “What are we going to do?”

“Hey, look, superstars play by their own rules,” Ted replied, “Back in ‘98, I waited over three hours for Public Enemy to take the stage of this joint called the Cubby Bear. When a man with a giant clock around his neck is that late, it ain’t about time. He’s makin’ a statement.”

As much as it pained Y/n to take anything real away from another one of Ted’s rambling tales, he had a point. How many asshole celebrities made a crowd wait just to get a little extra ego boost?

“Right,” Rebecca slashed her hands through the air, “I’m calling it. We’re going to go upstairs and figure out what we do next,” she looked to Higgins next, “Leslie, I want you to talk to the crowd and tell them…something.”

“Of course, Rebecca,” Higgins replied calmly, “I got this. Back in uni, my deejay name Damage Control.”

“I didn’t know you deejayed,” Keeley commented.

“I didn’t actually, but I had the name ready if I ever started.”

Y/n was beginning to feel as frantic as Rebecca. “This feels like a great story for a later time,” she said, failing to totally hide her annoyance.

“Shit, right,” Rebecca rose from her seat, “Come on, let’s go.”

As Higgins made for the stage, Ted, Rebecca, Y/n and Keeley hurried past the press, trying to give reassuring grins. Nothing was out of the ordinary. This was the plan.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Rebecca huffed once they were safe within the building, “Why does anyone put up with this lunatic?”

“Because as humans, we adapt to accommodate genius,” Keeley answered.

“Genius doesn’t outweigh flightiness,” Y/n replied, walking in step with Ted.

“Who is the greatest actor alive?” Keeley continued, “Or was, before he retired?”

In tandem, Rebecca and Y/n both answered, “Daniel Day-Lewis.”

Ted veered off path, “Tony Curtis. You said alive? Jackie Chan. Wait, you said retired? Daniel Day-Lewis.”

“Exactly,” Keeley led them up the stairwell, pausing outside Rebecca’s office door, “When he gets into character, he stays in character and everyone else adapts to him. Did you know, that when he made Lincoln, he actually texted Sally Field as Abraham Lincoln?”

“Well, that’s ridiculous,” Rebecca dismissed the trivia, “Abraham Lincoln couldn’t text.”

“Exactly,” Ted agreed, “Every time he looked down, his hat would fall off.”

“Hey, listen,” Y/n chuckled, wondering if ADD was somehow formulated, bottled and pumped into the air of Nelson Road Stadium, “The distant sound of booing.”

“Look, this Zava might be a genius,” Rebecca passed Keeley to reach for the doorknob, “But he’s definitely a self-absorbed prick.”

Rebecca threw the door open to reveal the prick himself, seated at her desk as if it were his own.

“Your desk is covered in biscuit crumbs,” Zava stated.

Ted, Keeley and Y/n stood behind their boss, sporting various faces of shock.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Rebecca asked, breathless with rage, “We’ve waited two hours for you.”

This did not bother Zava. “Time is a construct,” he shrugged, “Like gender and many of the alphabets.”

“Get out of my chair,” Rebecca demanded, graduating to indignant as she marched towards her desk. She exhaustedly gestured to Ted, “This is your manager.”

“Hey, how you doing?” Ted greeted with his usual cheeriness, “I’m Ted Lasso.”

Zava and his new coach shared a grin with hands extended as they crossed the room. When they met in the middle, Zava slapped his hand to his chest and became gravely serious. Ted awkwardly did the same.

“My leader,” Zava said, “I am an empty vessel filled with gold,” he took hold of Ted’s arm with his free hand, “I am your rock. Mold me.”

Y/n ran the analogy through her head, coming up empty on logic.

Ted gave a low whistle, “Well, hey, if you score goals like you talk, we gonna be just fine, buddy.”

“Right. And this is Keeley Jones and Y/n Y/l/n,” Rebecca said, gesturing to the two women, “They handle all our publicity.”

Keeley was more willing to greet Zava than Y/n, whose steps toward the legendary footballer were justifiably hesitant.

“My queens,” Zava took each of their hands, pressing gentle kisses to both.

“Okay,” Y/n mumbled under her breath and fought the urge to pull away.

“My actions today have made your jobs much more difficult,” he said with, seemingly, genuine sorrow.

“No,” Keeley shook her head, “Don’t worry about it. No such thing as bad press, right?”

“My integrity disallows me to agree with that statement,” Zava replied with a warm smile.

“But there is such a thing as angry fans,” Y/n politely smiled, wondering how long she had to hold the man’s hand. She could hear Rebecca mumbling some curses under her breath as well.

From behind them, Higgins came through the door with Shandy in tow, going on about something related to Zava’s food allergies. They both froze as they registered the sight in front of them.

“You’re here,” Higgins gaped.

Zava nodded, “And you are there.”

“And this is Leslie Higgins,” Rebecca introduced, “Our director of football.”

“Ah,” Zava sighed, placing a hand on each side of Higgins’ face and pressing his forehead to his. He lowered his voice to a whisper, “You are the glue.”

The room stood in confused anticipation.

“Thank you very much,” Higgins replied. Out of the entire group, Ted was the only one still excited.

“I will go see the team now,” Zava announced, slapping Higgins cheek and heading down the stairs.

Rebecca stretched her arms out and yelled, “Do you even know where you’re going?”

“I do not,” Zava called back, yet kept walking.

Ted, Higgins, Shandy and Keeley looked back to Rebecca, Zava’s mere presence rendering them all speechless. Y/n was the only one matching Rebecca’s frown.

“Are you kiddin’ me?” Ted muttered, “Wowie zowie. You know what, maybe I oughta tag along in case he gets nervous. Seems like he can be a little bit of a wallflower.”

“Great,” Rebecca’s hands slapped against her sides, “And now I’m in a rush. Leslie, tell me, how did the damage control go?”

“Oh, it was a mess,” Shandy answered for the man, “But he was adorable.”

“Oh, thank you,” Higgins nodded, looking back to Rebecca and pointing behind him, “Who is this?”

Keeley came to stand at Shandy’s side, “This is Shandy, we work together. And she’s a great friend of mine.”

“Ah,” Higgins smiled knowingly, all the pieces falling together suddenly.

“Right, I’m off,” Rebecca said, gathering her purse and crossing the room. She paused at Y/n’s side, “If you can try and get His Mightiness to pose for a few pictures on the pitch, it would be appreciated.”

Y/n sighed, “No promises.”

Rebecca left on her unknown mission, Shandy and Keeley went on their way back to the KJPR office and Higgins went to oversee teardown. Y/n went back to the pitch, where the fans were packing it in and the reporters had all but left. She found the staff photographer and asked him to head to the practice pitch while she went and collected Zava.

Y/n knocked on the coach’s office and entered, pausing beside Trent Crimm in the adjoining room, “Can I borrow Zava for a few minutes?”

“Just missed him,” Roy replied.

“For the day?” Y/n raised an eyebrow.

“Yep,” Coach Beard nodded, him, Roy and Ted staring at something on their whiteboard.

“He just walked in here,” Y/n gestured from the door through the office, “Said his ‘hellos’ and’s just…done?”

“Seems that way, yeah,” Ted replied, somewhere between a smile and a straight line.

Y/n could only imagine what her face looked like, how her frayed nerves and barely concealed frustration were becoming more obvious by the second. She looked to Trent Crimm, silently begging him to tell her she wasn’t the only one who disapproved of the star footballer’s behavior. Trent replied with a reserved shrug and a stretch of his lips.

“Beautiful,” Y/n smiled as best she could, “If anyone needs me,” she turned on her heel and walked back out the door, “My head will be embedded in the drywall.”

—————————

It was a few days later and the media frenzy still hadn’t died down around both Zava’s arrival and his lack of public appearance. Y/n was fielding call after call from publications, requesting one-on-one interviews with the legend or asking when his first presser would take place or asking if the reason he didn’t show up was because he was having doubts about joining Richmond…

Better yet, Zava didn’t feel it necessary to speak to anyone.

He had, however, taken over the locker room. Four lockers had been reserved just for him plus a recliner. He’d gotten the boys to do group meditation each morning. He had the whole team eating out of the palm of his hand and to be honest, Y/n couldn’t understand why.

Thus, with Zava occupied, the focus shifted to the other Greyhounds. Keeley and Shandy had arrived to discuss interviews with some of the other players. Y/n had calls scheduled all afternoon, mostly about Zava, but also regarding a few potential endorsement deals for the boys. She was thankful for the solitude and her cheeks were pleased not to fake a smile around Shandy for the afternoon.

“Oh,” she said as she clocked Roy Kent passing her office, “Coach Kent.”

Roy reversed course and paused in her doorway, “Yeah?”

“Would you mind checking in with the guys downstairs? Keeley’s with them now,” Y/n asked, unable to leave her desk, “I would, but,” she gestured to her open laptop, a horde of new emails having just been delivered.

“Fine,” Roy replied, deadpan as ever before pausing, “You said Keeley’s with them?”

Y/n took stock of his expression, though it was nearly impossible to find whatever emotion he was actually feeling. She hadn’t seen the man smile once since she’d been at Richmond.

“Mm-hm,” she nodded.

He stayed silent, perhaps mentally preparing himself for the interaction, before nodding to Y/n once more.

“Uh, Roy,” Y/n called him back once more, fiddling with her pen, “Zava…he’s…worth it, right?”

Roy’s brows furrowed deeper, “What do you mean?”

“The fifteen calls I’ve been on today,” Y/n expanded, “The welcome event we had to cancel. The inevitable comments we’re going to have to walk back,” she paused, “He’s worth it?”

“Fuck yeah,” Roy shrugged, “Absolutely.”

While the two of them were barely acquainted, Y/n trusted Roy’s opinion. He knew football better than anyone else in the building. If he thought the headache was a worthy price to pay for victory, she’d learn to tolerate whatever chaos Zava caused.

—————————

Finally, the day of Richmond’s much anticipated match came around.

Upon arrival, Y/n made a point of confirming that His Majesty was actually on the premises, to which she was told he was in the locker room.

“Afternoon, all,” she greeted Rebecca, Higgins and Keeley as she slid into her seat.

“He is here, correct?” Rebecca asked, already a step ahead.

“There has been a sighting,” Y/n replied, a hint of a tired smile playing at her lips, “It’s packed. Did we sell out?”

“Just about,” Higgins answered excitedly, “I can barely feel my hands.”

Y/n settled next to Rebecca just as the first half kicked off. She clocked Zava in the middle of the field, in conversation with Jamie, before the two separated. Jamie kicked the ball to Zava, unremarkably, and Zava slammed his foot against it, sending it soaring across the field and into the goal.

The first fifteen seconds of the match and the crowd was already on their feet, deafening screams filling the stadium.

As Y/n celebrated with Rebecca, Higgins and Keeley, she thought back to Roy’s words earlier in the week.

“Alright,” she mumbled to herself, “Worth it.”

—————————

What Zava brought to Richmond wasn’t just talent, it was magic.

With each match they won, their standings in the Premier League went up and up. The entire city was buzzing, thrumming, with excitement every weekend they Greyhounds were on the pitch.

Not only that, but Y/n was getting more and more invested in the game herself. She paid closer attention to the players, predicting possible moves before they made them, and jumping to her feet when they scored. The inkling of pride she’d felt at the Chelsea match was beginning to bloom, and she found herself starting looking forward to spending weekends in the owner’s box with Rebecca, Higgins and Keeley.

It was the win against Brentford that cemented their six-game win streak, leaving the entire team, on and off the pitch, ecstatic.

After the match, Y/n slipped into her office, grabbing her laptop to take home and return a few emails.

“Oh, Y/n,” a voice called down the hall. Y/n looked up and saw it belonged to Sam.

“Hey,” she greeted, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” he grinned, “Listen, tomorrow night, I’ve invited everyone to the restaurant for a little preview. I would really love it if you could come.”

Y/n had successfully dodged every post-match invitation the boys had thrown at her. Be it not feeling well or extra work or a call from back home she had to take from some relative…her excuses had run dry. More importantly, she felt like a terrible person each time she had to leave Sam, almost always the inviter, disappointed.

If everyone was invited, it was more or less a work get-together. It wasn’t like it was just friends or a one-on-one hang.

“Sure,” Y/n conceded, “Sounds great.”

Sam’s smile broadened with the answer, making his hands into victorious fists. “I’ll send you the address.”

“Can’t wait,” Y/n replied, lying just one more time.

—————————

The next night, Ola’s was filled for the very first time.

All of the Greyhounds, the coaches and a few plus-ones were seated and partaking in the Nigerian cuisine Sam had ushered into Richmond. The setting was laid-back, but everyone was still riding the high of their win against Brentford.

Y/n had mostly stuck with Rebecca and Keeley at the bar, eventually bouncing around to a few of the players. While she was still reserved, the team and her had gotten to know each other more over the past six weeks.

“Sam,” Y/n finally caught the arm of the restauranteur, “This is incredible.”

“Oh, thank you,” Sam pressed his palm to his heart, “I’m so glad you are enjoying yourself,” he leaned in and lowered his voice, “To be honest, I was a little nervous what you all might think.”

Y/n waved off his concern, a glass of wine in her other hand, “It’s a smash. Be proud of yourself.”

“Thank you,” Sam smiled once more before leaving to go and check on another order.

Y/n paused and took stock of her surroundings, watching the cheerful conversations around her. Her gaze fell on a table in the corner of the second room, where Jamie was sitting by himself, looking particularly unhappy. Curiosity got the better of her and she made her way over.

Jamie looked up as Y/n approached. She didn’t say anything, so he decided to. “What’s that face?”

Y/n’s eyebrows remained scrunched, “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re pouting when you’re on a six-game streak.”

“I’m not-“ Jamie caught himself, he knew he wasn’t exactly being subtle. Shaking his head, he looked back down at his untouched plate, “It’s nothing.”

A loud laugh bounced off the walls, drawing Y/n’s attention down the line of tables to see it belonged to Zava. She didn’t miss how Jamie’s frown intensified at the sound.

“Let me guess,” she sighed, settling on the edge of the booth, “You’re not a member of the fan club.”

Jamie didn’t answer, glumly fidgeting with one of his rings instead. Y/n recalled that during one of their last games, Zava had stolen a goal from him. Jamie had yet to score a single one so far in the season.

“If it’s any consolation,” Y/n swirled the wine in her glass, “I can’t say I’m president of it either.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow at her, his interest peaked, “Yeah?”

“Aside from the fact that he’s made my job a thousand times harder,” Y/n complained, “I guess I just don’t…get him? I’ve caught the tail end of some of his locker room motivational speeches. It’s like he knows where he’s going the first few seconds and then takes his hands off the wheel for the last five.”

Jamie laughed, the first time he’s smiled all night. “You didn’t catch the one yesterday. Car went off a fuckin’ cliff.”

Y/n chuckled, covering her mouth to dampen the sound. “It’s like he loves to hear himself talk but doesn’t actually listen to anything he says…” Y/n grasped the air and twisted it, “But also believes he’s a prophet?”

Jamie shook his head with a smirk, thankful someone else could see what he saw.

“Still,” Y/n shrugged, her eyes scanning the Greyhounds around them, “He’s taking you guys to the top. That’s gotta feel good.”

Jamie’s smile straightened back out and he dragged his teeth over his bottom lip.

“Well, I’m sorry,” Y/n chuckled lightly, “Number 4’s a pretty big improvement from 20.”

“Yeah, but look how he’s doing it,” Jamie complained, “Stealing goals, prancing ‘round the field like some show pony-“

Y/n snorted into her glass, thankful she had yet to take a sip.

“What?” Jamie asked.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n smiled, really trying not to laugh, “It’s just when I started the job, I decided to look up some Youtube videos of the team. And I’m remembering this one hotshot player who never passed the ball to his teammates and did all these ridiculous things like rip his shirt off whenever he made a goal or chant his own name with the crowd…”

Jamie stiffened, he hadn’t expected the callback to his past.

“Whatever,” Jamie brushed it off, “Point is, things were fine without him and-“

“And I don’t think anyone’s less of a Jamie Tartt-head just because Zava Fever’s going around,” Y/n finished for him. She’d watched Jamie play for weeks now, she knew how talented he was. The infatuation with Zava would pass, but Jamie could build a legacy that lasted.

Jamie’s eyes, somewhat lost, tracked upwards to meet Y/n’s. One look told him that she truly meant what she said.

“Thanks,” Jamie nodded.

Y/n nodded, she hadn’t intended to have such an involved conversation, but Jamie was a neutral party. She didn’t feel one way or the other about him. Plus, he was the only other person who could admit to Zava having flaws.

“But just so we’re clear,” Jamie leaned over slightly, lowering his voice, “Still a prick.”

“Oh,” Y/n’s brow creased, “Definitely.”

They shared another hushed laugh.

“Hey, guys,” Shandy came out from around the corner and greeted them.

Jamie and Y/n both welcomed her, but after seven weeks working side by side with Shandy, Y/n was running out of enthusiasm to muster up.

“So, Jamie,” Shandy leaned against the corner wall, “Wanted to see if I could recruit you for this little Bantr campaign we’re running.”

Y/n recalled Keeley mentioning the commercial her and Shandy would be shooting that week. Some of the Greyhounds would be featured anonymously to try and entice people to sign up.

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Y/n politely smiled, finishing the last of her wine and leaving the glass, “Have a good night.”

“See ya,” Jamie nodded, shooting her a smile before returning to the conversation with Shandy.

Y/n made the rounds saying goodbye before heading out, stepping out onto the London street corner. There was enough nightlife around that she wouldn’t have trouble catching a cab.

“Hey, Y/n.”

She turned to see Ted standing a few feet away from her. “Hi,” she replied, they had hardly interacted all night, “Are you waiting for a cab?”

“Oh, no,” Ted shifted awkwardly, pointing back to the restaurant, “I’m, uh, waitin’ on someone.”

Y/n understood, unwilling to dig any deeper into the statement, “Got it.”

“Yeah,” Ted mumbled under his breath before perking back up, “You have a good time?”

“Yeah,” Y/n nodded.

“Good,” Ted smiled, “It’s good to see you gettin’ out of the office, hangin’ out with everybody.”

“Well, I mean,” Y/n chuckled awkwardly, “I think Sam just invited me because he had to. It’s not like it was a personal thing.”

Over the last few weeks, Ted had gotten to observe Y/n quite a bit. She stayed in her office as much as possible, she always took lunch on her own and the only thing she wanted to contribute to the conversation was small talk. She was removed and she wanted it to stay that way.

Ted knew there was a reason, though he wasn’t going to push to unearth it. But for Y/n to come out after hours with the team, to smile and laugh and let herself have a good time, it meant something. Even if she couldn’t see it.

“Okay,” Ted nodded, letting her think whatever she needed to think, “Well, do you need a ride home?”

“Oh, no,” Y/n replied, spotting a cab coming down the road and flagging it down, “I’m good. I’ll see you later.”

Ted smiled, sticking up a hand and waving as she climbed into the cab. If Y/n wanted to keep herself closed off from the Greyhounds, that was fine.

They could wait her out.

————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sabelcities

#ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #keeley jones x reader #rebecca welton x reader #ted lasso x reader #heartfirst

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 1 year

Text

Angel of God, My Guardian Dear Chapter 1: Matt

Rating: Explicit (18+, MINORS DNI)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Story Summary: While speaking at a local school for visually impaired youth, Matt runs into his childhood best friend, with whom he lost touch almost 20 years prior.

Warnings/Tags: No real warnings thus far -- This is going to be a pretty angst-free fic.

Word Count: ~6,300

A/N: Welcome to Angel of God, My Guardian Dear! This started out as a 1-shot and quickly spiraled out of control, as my thirst for Matthew Michael Murdock could not be contained.

For the purpose of this story, Reader is Catholic and grew up at St. Agnes with Matt.

Title is from the Catholic prayer "Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God's love commits me here, ever this day be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide, Amen."

"All set to go to Lavelle?"

Matt Murdock turned his head as his friend and business partner, Foggy Nelson, came into his office. "Yeah, just need to finish up here and I'll be on my way."

"It was really cool of them to ask you to come speak," Foggy added.

Matt nodded. "I hope I can help these kids realize that their disabilities don't define who they are and that they can be whoever and whatever they want to be, including lawyers."

Foggy huffed out a laugh. "Or crime-fighting vigilantes?"

Matt grinned. "Well actually, there's probably only room for one blind crime-fighting vigilante in this city, so I probably won't suggest that as a potential career path."

Foggy patted Matt on the shoulder. "You're a great speaker, I'm sure you'll motivate the heck out of those kids. Have a good time, dude."

"Thanks, Fog."

Matt grabbed his briefcase, headed outside, then hailed a cab.

"Alright, where we goin'?" The cabbie asked.

"The Bronx," Matt answered. "Lavelle School for the Blind."

The cabbie tapped on a screen, presumably putting the address into his GPS. "Alrighty, just sit tight and we should be there in about half an hour."

Matt sat back as the cab began to move. Think of it like a jury, Karen had said when Matt had told her and Foggy about the opportunity over a couple of pints at Josie's a few weeks before. Just a younger, way more judgmental jury.

Matt had laughed. Not helping.

You'll do great.

He mentally practiced his speech during the ride and before he knew it, the cab was pulling up in front of the school.

"Thanks," Matt said as he paid the cabbie.

"No problem," the cabbie replied. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

"You too."

Matt headed inside.

Almost immediately, a somewhat familiar voice asked him, "Hi, may I help you?"

Matt turned towards the voice. "Hi, yes, my name is Matthew Murdock. I'm one of the speakers for today?"

"Ah, yes, Mr. Murdock, I'm Dr. Bowman, we spoke on the phone."

Matt nodded, now placing the voice. "Right, right."

"We'll be in the meeting hall, which is straight down this corridor. If you'll just come with me…"

Dr. Bowman led Matt down to the meeting hall. "We really appreciate you taking time out of your schedule to speak to our students," she said as they entered.

"It's really not a problem."

"The students and their parents will be starting to arrive in a while, but if you'd like we could have someone escort you around to the exhibitor tables once they're all set up."

"Yeah, maybe."

"We have a Braille program if you'd like one -- it lists all the speakers and exhibitors for today."

"Yeah, I'd love one."

"Okay, one second."

Dr. Bowman stepped away for a minute then returned, handing Matt a booklet printed on Braille paper. "Okay, here you go."

"Thanks." Matt pointed to a nearby table. "Is it okay if I sit over here?"

"Yes, of course. Just let us know if you need anything."

"Will do."

Matt sat at the table and began to read the program. Staff, sponsors, speakers, exhibitors…

He began to read the exhibitor list. American Council for the Blind, representative Ashley Prewitt. VISIONS, representative Clay Markham. NYC Mayor's Office for People with Disabilities, representative Barbara Franklin. Andrew Heiskell Braille and Talking Book Library, representative Y/F/N Y/L/N --

Matt froze and read it again. Could it really be the same Y/N?

Y/N, who at 8 years old had taken 9-year-old Matt, who had just arrived at the orphanage, by the hand and declared that she would be his friend. Y/N, who had giggled when Matt had asked her a few days later if she was an angel and replied, 'no, silly, I'm a girl!' . Y/N, who had been Matt's fiercest protector and had gotten into almost as many fights as Matt himself had. Y/N, who would stroke Matt's hair softly until he fell asleep on the nights when he would sneak into her room because all the stimuli flooding his senses became too overwhelming. Y/N, to whom Matt had taught Braille so they could pass secret notes to each other without anyone else being able to read them. Y/N, who 17-year-old Matt had held while she cried the day they found out that Y/N had been taken in by her long-lost aunt and would be leaving Saint Agnes… and him.

Y/N, his own personal guardian angel, the one person in the world Matt could tell everything to… except the one thing he had wanted to tell her most of all.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

"I don't want you to leave," he admitted quietly as he and Y/N stood at the entrance to St. Agnes.

"I don't want to leave either," Y/N replied. "I wish you could at least come with me."

Matt chuckled wryly. He had overheard one of the nuns talking to Ms. Y/L/N earlier that morning, warning her about 'that Murdock boy' and telling her how it was best for Y/N to be separated from him 'before he gets her into trouble'. "I don't think your aunt would go for that."

"Then can we run away together instead? We could travel the world, just you and me on the epic best friend adventure that we've always dreamed of."

God, Matt wanted to say yes. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Y/N by his side, be it as his best friend or -- as he knew deep down in his heart -- something more.

However, Sister Bernadette had been right. Y/N really was an angel sent from on high who deserved all of the goodness in the world, and Matt… Well, Murdock boys had the devil in them.

He shook his head sadly. "Your aunt's waiting. You should go."

Y/N was quiet for a few moments. Finally, she said, "Before I go… I got you something."

She took Matt's hand and dropped a thin, wiry chain into his palm. "I saved up for six months to buy it from the church's gift shop. I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but…" She trailed off. "Anyway, think of me when you wear it, okay?"

Matt picked it up with his other hand. Attached to the chain was a small cross.

He nodded. "I will. Thanks."

"I'll write to you, give you my aunt's address." Y/N pulled him into a tight hug then gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll miss you, Matty."

"I'll miss you too. Goodbye, angel."

Matt waited as half of his heart climbed into a cab and left, the note he had written to her the previous night still in his pocket.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Matt mentally shook his head. Don't get your hopes up. It may not be her.

…But deep down he knew it had to be.

He stopped someone who was walking by. "Excuse me, can you tell me if the representative from the Heiskell Library is here yet?"

"Umm…" the woman paused as she turned towards the exhibitor tables. "Yeah, actually, it looks like she's talking with Dr. Bowman at the moment."

"Okay, thank you."

"No problem."

As the woman walked away, Matt turned his head so he could listen in on the conversation.

"...So glad you could be here," Dr. Bowman was saying. "We really appreciate you taking time to come out and speak with our students and their parents."

"It's no problem, Dr. Bowman," the other voice replied. "I'm always happy to promote the library's services."

Matt sucked in a breath. It *is* her.

Even after all the years that had passed since he had last spent time with Y/N he had never forgotten the sound of her voice, the times he had sat listening to her read to him still among his favorite memories.

Y/N and Dr. Bowman were wrapping up their conversation, so Matt stood and headed over towards them.

Either Y/N didn't notice that Matt was behind her or Matt had misjudged the distance between them, but Y/N turned around and bumped into him.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, sir, I--" Y/N gasped. "Wait, Matty?"

"It's just 'Matt' now, but yeah. Hi, angel." Matt was surprised at how easily his old nickname for Y/N slipped from his lips.

"Oh my God, hi!" Y/N wrapped her arms around him in a hug. "How are you? What are you doing here? Are you a teacher?"

Matt chuckled as he returned her embrace. "I'm well. I don't teach here, I'm actually one of the featured speakers."

"Oh, wow, that's wonderful."

"What about you? How have you been?"

"I'm well too, yeah. Oh my God, this is so crazy. Are you still in New York?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah, still in Hell's Kitchen. You know me, I'm loyal to my city. What about you?"

"Yeah, Florida was okay, but New York is home. I'm actually in Midtown West now, so I'm not far." Y/N paused. "Hey, would you want to maybe grab dinner or a drink or something after this is done, and I dunno, like, catch up? It's totally fine if you can't, I just thought maybe --"

Matt quickly shook his head. "No, no, yeah, I'd love to."

"Great! I'll have to run back by the library to drop all of my stuff off but I can meet you wherever after that."

Matt thought for a moment. "You still like Italian?"

Y/N let out a light laugh. "Of course."

"Then how about Bellissima Italia, over on 9th and 44th? That's near there, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great."

"Will 6:00 work for you? I'll make a reservation."

"That would be perfect. Here, let me give you my number in case something unexpected comes up. It probably won't, but then again, this is New York -- you never know what kind of craziness is going to happen next."

Matt chuckled and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "That's very true."

He created a new contact and typed in Y/N's name, then added her number once Y/N recited it to him.

He hit the button to call her, hanging up after Y/N's phone began to buzz in her pocket. "There, now you have mine."

"Awesome. I have to get to my table, but I'll see you tonight?"

Matt nodded as the doors opened and people began to trickle in. "Yeah, definitely. See you tonight, Y/N."

"Bye, Matt."

Wow, what are the odds? Matt thought as Y/N walked back over to her table.

He pulled his phone back out and headed back into the hallway to make their reservation, then called Foggy.

"Yo, Matt, what's up?" Foggy said in greeting.

"Hey, Foggy, do you remember me telling you about Y/N back when we were in college?"

"Y/N, as in Y/N, your childhood friend from the orphanage who you talked about non-stop and are still hung up on 16 years later Y/N? 'The one that got away' Y/N? That Y/N?"

Matt chuckled. "Yeah, that Y/N. Well, I actually just ran into her. It turns out she's a librarian at the Heiskell Library and is here promoting their library services, so we made plans to have dinner and catch up after this is over."

"Oh, wow, that's actually really awesome, dude. You said she works at the Heiskell Library?"

Matt could hear Foggy sit down at his desk and start typing on his computer keyboard. "Yeah."

After a moment, Foggy said, "Damn it."

"What is it?"

"I knew she was gonna be hot!"

Matt huffed out a laugh. "Did you seriously just Google her?"

"I wanted to see what she looks like! You're a hot woman magnet, so of course your old childhood friend is hot. Is she single? Because if you change your mind about her…"

Matt just chuckled. "Not gonna happen. If I even remotely still have a shot with Y/N, I'm taking it."

"Eh, I was just kidding anyway. Good luck tonight, man. Hope she's everything you remember her being and more."

"Thanks, Fog. I'll talk to you later."

"'Kay. Bye, Matt."

Matt hung up and headed back inside, both excited and nervous to catch up with Y/N later that evening.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Matt smoothed down his hair for what seemed like the tenth time as he arrived at the restaurant for his catch-up dinner with Y/N.

He took a deep breath and headed inside.

"Buonasera," the seating host said. "Welcome to Bellissima Italia. How many in your party, sir?"

"Actually, I have a reservation for two at 6, under 'Murdock'," Matt replied.

"Ah, yes, sir. Your companion's already arrived. Right this way."

Matt followed the seating host to where Y/N sat.

"Matt, you made it," Y/N said, standing and giving Matt a hug.

She had changed from the blouse and slacks she had worn earlier into a silk dress that hugged her form, and underneath the subtly floral perfume she wore was her familiar natural scent that had never failed to relax Matt when he was overwhelmed. Even now he could feel his nervous energy starting to calm.

He returned her embrace. "Hi."

"Joseph will be your server tonight," the host said as they sat. "If you need anything let us know."

"Thank you."

Matt folded up his cane and stuck it in his jacket pocket. "I hope you haven't had to wait long."

"No, I just got here a few minutes ago."

Their server walked up to their table. "Good evening, my name is Joseph and I'll be taking care of you. What can I get you to drink?"

"Can I get a glass of Pinot Grigio and a water?" Y/N said.

"Certainly, ma'am. And for you, sir?"

"I'll take a glass of Merlot and a water as well, thanks."

"Okay, certainly. I'll get that taken care of for you while you get a chance to look over the menu."

"Do you know what you want, or do you want me to read the menu to you?" Y/N asked as Joseph left.

"Actually if you don't mind telling me what's on the menu I'd really appreciate it," Matt replied. "I didn't get a chance to check it out before I came."

"No, it's not a problem at all." Y/N picked up her menu. "Let's see…"

Matt listened intently as Y/N quickly read the menu off to him. He nodded. "Okay, thanks. I think I know what I want."

A few moments later Joseph returned with their drinks. "Okay, here you are. And are we ready to order?"

Matt nodded. "I'm ready. Y/N, you want to go ahead?"

"Yes, I'd like the gnocchi in cream sauce, please," Y/N said.

"Okay, and for you, sir?"

"I'll take the chicken parmigiana, thanks." Matt picked up his menu and handed it to Joseph.

"Okay, I'll put those in for you right away."

"Wow, I still can't believe this," Y/N said as Joseph left once again. "It's been, what, almost 20 years?"

Matt nodded with a grin. "Yeah, something like that. And even after all this time, you still look exactly the same."

Y/N laughed. "I'm glad to know that you haven't lost your sense of humor."

She took a sip of water. "So, catch me up on the past 20 years."

Matt shrugged. "Not much to tell. Left St. Agnes at 18, went to Columbia and got a law degree, opened my own practice with my college roommate, and that's about it." Except for the fact that I also became a crime-fighting vigilante, sent a mob boss to jail, and took down a secret organization of ninjas.

"Not married, no kids?"

Matt shook his head. "No, never found the right person." Because I already had found her but was too much of a coward to tell her how I felt before she left. "What about you? What have you been up to?"

"Finished high school in Florida, got my bachelor's degree in sociology, did my MLIS, and became a librarian. Did five years as a special services librarian in Florida, two in Indiana, then I managed to get on with the Heiskell Library and have been there ever since."

"No marriage or kids for you either?"

"No kids, almost got married once but it didn't work out. Wasn't anyone's fault, we just weren't right for each other."

Matt nodded. "How's your aunt?"

"Oh, she's fine. She's still in Florida so I talk to her every few days. Wait till I tell her I ran into you."

Matt gave a wry smile. "I dunno if she'll be happy about that. She didn't like me."

"What do you mean she didn't like you? She didn't even know you."

"She didn't have to. She had heard enough about me from Sister Bernadette to form an opinion."

"Ugh. Sister Bernadette. She did always seem to have it out for you."

Matt shrugged. "Well, in all fairness, I was kind of a troublemaker."

Y//N laughed. "Yeah, but I was usually right there with you in whatever trouble you were making, if not starting the trouble myself."

Matt grinned and took a sip of his wine. "You mean like the time we stole that bottle of Communion wine out of the church storeroom?"

Y/N laughed. "You know, that was the first thing I mentioned during confession after I started going to church in Florida. Seal of Confession or not, I wasn't about to confess to Father Reynolds about it."

Matt grinned. "Afraid of a harsher penance?"

"Yes! It was bad enough having to say five Acts of Contrition and three Our Fathers that time I punched Bobby Neyland in the face for tripping you in the hall. I had already gotten detention and I had to apologize to him, what more did they want?"

They were interrupted by Joseph bringing their dinners. "Alrighty, we have the gnocchi over here, and the chicken parmigiana here. Careful, those plates are hot. Is there anything else I can get you two?"

"No, I think we're fine," Y/N replied. "Matt?"

Matt shook his head. "We're good for now."

"Okay, let me know if you need anything else."

"Will do."

"Anyway," Y/N said, "we weren't always getting into trouble. Most of the time we were perfect little angels."

Matt chuckled. "I think your memory is faulty. You may have been an angel, but I certainly wasn't."

"We did have some good times together though, didn't we, Matty?"

Matt nodded, the quiet times he got to spend with Y/N floating through his mind. "Yeah, we certainly did."

The conversation continued to flow easily as Matt and Y/N reminisced about their childhood, and the next thing Matt knew dinner was over.

"Will that be one check or two?" Joseph asked as he cleared their plates.

"Just the one check, thanks," Matt said, handing Joseph his credit card before Y/N could protest.

"Next time, I'm paying," Y/N replied as Joseph went to go take care of the bill.

Matt grinned, thrilled that Y/N had even mentioned a 'next time'. "Deal."

He signed the check once Joseph returned for the last time, then unfolded his cane as he and Y/N stood. "May I walk you home?"

He could almost hear the smile in Y/N's voice as she replied. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

Matt extended his arm. "Then shall we?"

They left the restaurant together, the ease and familiarity they once shared still there.

"So, what made you decide to become a librarian?" Matt asked as they headed towards Y/N's apartment building. "Last I knew you wanted to go out and save the world by becoming a big-time CEO of a Fortune 500 company."

Y/N huffed out a laugh. "Um, well, actually, it was you."

Matt's eyebrows raised. "Me?"

"Yeah. When it was time to start thinking about college I spoke to my guidance counselor and told her about how my best friend was visually impaired and how I'd sit and read print books to him because there weren't any Braille or audiobooks in the orphanage where we grew up, and so she told me about how there were actually special library services for people with visual impairments and that maybe I should look into special services librarianship since I seemed called to that."

"And do you like it?"

"Yeah, more than anything. Like a lot of people might think that being a librarian is boring or an obsolete job, but you should talk to some of my patrons, Matt. They're all alone with no family or friends nearby, so listening to these audiobooks are the only things that they have to do all day. It's actually kind of heartbreaking."

Matt nodded with a soft smile. Y/N really was an angel.

"And I know I'm not like, saving lives or changing the world or anything," Y/N continued, "like by being a doctor or by helping innocent people who've been wrongfully accused of crimes like you and your partner, but I feel like I'm at least helping people in my own way, you know?"

Matt turned towards Y/N as they stopped at a crosswalk. "You think you haven't saved lives? 'Angel' wasn't just a nickname, sweetheart. You befriended a lonely, scared, angry little boy with absolutely zero fucks given as to what anyone else thought, and to this day I'm still so damn grateful for whatever made you see me and decide, 'Yes, that one. I want him as my best friend'."

Y/N let out a watery laugh. "Honestly, it wasn't a tough decision. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were going to be way cooler than everyone else."

Matt smiled softly. "You were my guardian angel, Y/N. I certainly wouldn't have made it without you."

He reached up and gently swiped his thumbs under her eyes, wiping away the tears that had collected there. "You okay?"

Y/N nodded. "Yeah."

Matt slipped his hand into Y/N's and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

They continued on their way to Y/N's apartment, Y/N seemingly as reluctant to let go of Matt's hand as he was to let go of hers.

"What about you?" Y/N asked. "What drew you to law?"

"I want to fight injustice and keep Hell's Kitchen safe, protect the people I care about," Matt said simply. "Going through the legal system seemed the best way to do that at the time."

"And now?"

"What?"

"You said 'at the time'. What's the best way now?"

Being Daredevil, Matt wanted to say. Protecting those I can't protect through the law.

He shook his head. "I just know that everything's not as black-and-white with the legal system as I once thought."

"Yeah, I get that." Y/N slowed down as they reached her apartment building. "This is me."

Matt nodded. "I'm really glad we found each other again."

"I am too -- I've missed you so much, Matt. I tried to write to you after I moved but all of my letters came back 'return to sender'. Eventually I realized that they were returning my letters, but by that time it was too late, and it's not like I could just call up Sister Bernadette and ask for your forwarding address."

Matt shook his head. "I knew it. I knew something weird was going on. I could tell she was lying whenever I asked her if I had any mail from you."

"I still have them."

"The letters you wrote me?"

"Yeah, they're in a box in my closet."

"Can I read them?"

"Yeah, sure. You want me to go get them or do you want to come up for a drink and we can read them together?"

Matt nodded. "A drink would be nice." More time I can spend with you.

"Okay, then. Come on in."

Y/N led Matt through the lobby to the elevator and up to her apartment. "Make yourself at home," she said as she unlocked her door. "Living room is straight ahead, just mind the coffee table when you go around the couch to sit."

Matt sat while Y/N moved around her kitchen. "What's your preference?" Y/N asked. "I have wine, hard cider, amaretto, whiskey, rum…"

"Whiskey is fine. On the rocks."

He could hear Y/N adding ice to a couple of glasses then opening a couple of bottles, then smelled the scent of sweet & sour mix. "Let me guess. Amaretto sour for yourself?"

Y/N paused in her pouring. "How'd you know?"

"I can hear the difference in the shape of the bottles, and I can smell the sweet & sour."

"You're good." Y/N closed the bottles and put the sweet & sour mix back in her refrigerator.

She handed Matt his glass before setting hers down on the coffee table. "Here you go. Give me just a second, I'll go grab the letters."

Matt took a sip of his whiskey as Y/N retreated to her bedroom.

She returned momentarily with a box. "Ok so remember, I was 16 when I started writing these, so don't judge me if they're cringy."

Matt chuckled. "I won't, I promise."

Y/N opened the box and handed him a manila envelope. "Here, start with this one. I'm pretty sure they're still in the order I wrote them."

Matt opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of Braille paper. "Can you still read Braille?" he asked.

"Yep, can still write in it too, although Braille printers make everything a lot easier these days."

Matt set the piece of paper on the coffee table and began to read aloud.

"September 30, 2002

Dear Matty,

Just got settled in at Aunt Ruth's house. My bedroom here is as big as both of ours at St. Agnes combined.

Hoping I can convince Aunt Ruth to let you come visit soon, maybe during Thanksgiving?

By the way, my address is 4685 Sandpiper Blvd., Miami, FL 33190.

Hope to hear from you soon,

Y/N"

Y/N snorted. "Yeah, 'I'm sure you'll be able to get away from the orphanage for a week or so to come hang out with your bestie in Florida!' Man, was I naive."

Matt shook his head. "You didn't know. Neither of us could've known that they'd actually try to keep us apart."

Y/N picked up the next envelope. "Here, I'll read the next one."

Matt nodded. "Okay."

"October 21, 2002," Y/N began.

Dear Matty,

I must've done something wrong with the postage on my first letter, because it came back marked return to sender. Adding double to make sure this gets to you.

Aunt Ruth wants me to join some after-school clubs, make some new friends. I don't want *new* friends, though. I just want you.

Speaking of making new friends, you know that song 'make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold'? Well, it's not true. You're way more precious to me than gold. You're more like… I don't know, the rarest and most precious substance on earth, whatever that may be.

Anyway, address is 4685 Sandpiper Blvd., Miami, FL 33190. Write me back!

Always,

Y/N"

Matt picked up the next envelope. "November 12, 2002.

Dear Matty,

Another letter came back return to sender. Don't quite know what I'm doing wrong, but hopefully this one reaches you!

School has been okay. Don't think I told you yet, but Aunt Ruth enrolled me in some fancy all-girls Catholic school. I'm really enjoying English class. We're reading The Crucible. Maybe next time we're together I'll read it to you. Think you'd like it.

Anyway, hope you're doing okay. I miss you.

Always,

Y/N"

Y/N laughed. "You know, my offer to read The Crucible to you still stands."

Matt grinned. "In that case I might have to take you up on it. You're still my favorite audiobook narrator."

He could hear the smile in Y/N's voice as she began to read her next letter.

"January 10th, 2003.

Dear Matty (or is it just Matt now that you're the big 1-8?),

Happy birthday! I wish I could be there with you to celebrate. I wanted to surprise you and come visit, but Aunt Ruth said no. (Party pooper.)

I hope your day is amazing and that you get everything you wish for, because you deserve it! *Heart*

Miss you like crazy and I really hope to hear from you soon!

Always,

Y/N"

Matt shrugged. "My 18th birthday was fine, nothing overly special." I didn't get my wish, but now I know why.

He cleared his throat. "April 6, 2003.

Dear Matt,

I don't know if I did something wrong before I left and you're mad at me or if I'm just that inept at mailing a letter, but I just got a bunch of letters back unopened again. I really hope it's the latter because if it's the first, I don't know what I did but whatever it is, I'm sorry. Just please talk to me. I want my best friend back.

Y/N"

Matt's heart broke. Damn them. Damn them all to Hell for making Y/N think she could ever do something to make me not want her in my life.

He finished his glass of whiskey before picking up the next letter.

"Want a refill?" Y/N asked.

Matt nodded. "Sure."

Y/N stood and went to make them each another drink while Matt read the next letter aloud.

"September 3, 2003

Dear Matt,

I don't even know why I'm still trying. You're 18 now, I'm sure you're not even at St. Agnes anymore. You're probably off to college and have made fancy new college friends, so even if this letter somehow reached you you probably wouldn't respond anyway, but I wanted to tell you goodbye anyway and to wish you good luck.

Y/N"

Matt's brow furrowed. "But there's more letters."

"Yeah." Y/N sounded hesitant as she set Matt's drink down on the table. "I never sent any of the rest though."

She picked up the next one. "December 9, 2003.

Dear Matt,

I'm sitting here in English class (well, not now since I'm writing this in Braille instead of standard print) and our bell assignment today was to write a letter to someone who is no longer in our lives. I'm sure the point is probably to write to someone who's dead, but whatever, I'll write to whomever the hell I want.

Aunt Ruth finally told me the truth: that St. Agnes had been returning your letters to me before you even got them. Needless to say, I'm furious. I don't understand why they would go to such lengths to keep us apart, or why Aunt Ruth would even agree to it.

I hope you don't think I never tried to get in touch with you, because the thought of you believing that I would just abandon you like that tears me up inside.

I miss you, Matt, and I hope you're doing well.

Y/N"

Matt shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N. I hate that you ever even had to think that I would ignore your letters."

Y/N reached over and gave his hand a squeeze. "It wasn't your fault."

They continued reading, Y/N telling him about getting into college, the classes she was taking each semester, graduation, getting into grad school and getting her library science degree, her first job as an official librarian…

Y/N took a sip of her cocktail before starting the next letter.

"March 8, 2012

Dear Matt,

I've met someone . His name is Alex and he works in the I.T. department of the library. I think you two would get along -- you're a lot alike.

We've been dating for a few months now and things are going pretty well. I'll keep you posted as to where things lead.

Y/N"

Matt picked up the second-to-last letter.

"January 13, 2013

Dear Matt,

Alex proposed, and I said yes. We're planning a fall wedding -- nothing big, just close family and friends.

I wish you could be there. I thought about asking Alex if he could look you up on the internet to see if he could find an address for you. Could you imagine? We haven't been in contact in over 10 years and suddenly you get an invitation to my wedding.

Crazy, right?

Y/N"

Even though Matt knew that things didn't work out between Y/N and her ex-fiancé, his stomach was still in knots as Y/N began to read her final letter.

"June 29, 2013

Dear Matt,

I ended my engagement with Alex today. We were touring wedding venues over the weekend but none of them felt right, and I realized this morning that it wasn't the venues that felt wrong, it was me.

You see, I can't marry Alex, not when-- " Y/N paused and took a deep breath. "Not when I've been in love with you for most of my life."

Matt's brain screeched to a halt. What did she just say?

"God, I'm so pathetic," Y/N continued, "pining over someone to whom I haven't even spoken in years. It's not fair to Alex to marry someone who's in love with another man and it's not fair to myself to keep holding on to something that I can never have.

I guess I've kept writing to you in order to somehow hold on to you and to feel like we were still teenagers writing secret notes to each other, like maybe one day I'd have the courage to finally tell you how I feel.

I'll always love you, Matt, but maybe it's time for me to finally let you go.

Y/N"

Matt turned towards Y/N, who had picked up her drink and was currently draining it. "You were in love with me?"

Y/N remained silent, but the uptick in her heartbeat gave Matt hope.

He took her glass from her and set it down on the table before taking her hand in his. "Y/N? Please, angel, talk to me."

Y/N took a deep breath. "I still am, Matt. I still love you. I never stopped."

Oh, thank God. "I love you too," Matt murmured. "I've loved you probably since the moment I met you, it just took me a few years to figure out what it was I was feeling."

He pulled out the cross Y/N had given him out from under his shirt. "I've always kept you close to my heart, Y/N."

Y/N reached out and placed her hand on his chest, warming the metal cross pressing against Matt's shirt. "I was wondering if you still had that."

Matt nodded. "I've rarely taken it off in the past 20 years."

He paused. "I was going to tell you I loved you the day you left for Florida. I had written you a note telling you how I felt."

"Why didn't you give it to me?"

"Right before I was going to I overheard Sister Bernadette talking to your aunt about how it was best to separate us so I wouldn't ruin your life, and I realized it definitely wasn't fair for me to tell you I loved you right before you moved a thousand miles away."

"What the hell? How would you have ruined my life?"

Matt huffed out a laugh. "Well, let's see, the exact phrasing she used was 'before he gets her into trouble'."

"Before you 'got me into trouble'? Wait, did she -- did she think we were sleeping together ?" Y/N sounded both horrified and amused.

Matt shrugged. "Well, she wouldn't have technically been wrong."

"Well no, but all we ever did was literally sleep together!"

"Maybe, but it's not like I never thought about doing the other kind of sleeping together with you."

Y/N gave a playfully scandalized gasp. "Why, Matthew, I certainly hope you went to confession for that."

"More than once." Matt chuckled. "I mean, I was a hormonal teenage boy who was hopelessly in love with my best friend, of course my thoughts drifted there from time to time."

Y/N was quiet for a moment. "I wonder if maybe someone saw you sneaking out of my room one morning and reported us, and that's why Sister Bernadette thought something was going on. She could've confronted us though instead of just shipping me off and keeping us apart for almost 20 years. So much wasted time, and over what was probably a complete misunderstanding."

Matt shook his head. "Angel?"

"Yeah, Matty?"

"I'm going to kiss you now."

Y/N sucked in a breath. "Uh huh, yeah, okay."

Matt reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand, then -- after over 20 years of longing -- gently pressed his lips to hers.

He leaned back, a smile spreading on his face as he caressed the matching smile on Y/N's with his thumb. "So, how about dinner again tomorrow night?"

Y/N hummed. "What, you don't want to lose touch for another 20 years and hope we randomly run into each other again?"

Matt shook his head with a laugh at Y/N's teasing tone. "No way, angel. I spent almost 20 years without you, so now that I've got you back in my life I'm not letting go."

#lotmf writes #AoG Masterlist #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x yn

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year

Text

With Good Weather Brings Good Breedings. (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Poly!KiriBaku x Black!Bunny Girl!Reader

Synopsis: In which your spring cycle comes a little earlier than usual and you’re too afraid of your boyfriends–whom you’ve been dating for five months–thinking you’re weird instead of telling them about your cycle during mating season. However, during a picnic thrown especially for you, your two favorite pros are more aware than you realize and are more than happy to help you with your little problem.

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS STAY TF AWAY), Poly Romance, AgedUp!Pro!Bakugou & Kiri (they’re in their late 20s), Black!Reader, Bunny Girl!Reader, Mating Cycle, In Heat, Dick Crazed, Public Sex/Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Foreplay, Nipple Play, Light Foot Fetish (Toe Sucking), Clit Stimulation, Overstimulation, Deepthroating, Biting/Nibbling, Hair/Ear Pulling, Tail Stroking, Spanking, Face Fucking, Light Hints of Dacryphilia, Degradation, Name Calling, Pet Names, Multiple Positions (Doggystyle, Full Nelson, Mating Press), Non-Protected PIV/Non-Safe Sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), Mentions of Breeding, Squirting, Creampies, Facials, Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Happy spring, y’all!! Decided to celebrate by giving y’all another smutty short fic. You’re welcome, enjoy & thank you tons for the love on my work so far. Stay safe out there cuz COVID ain’t over. Wear your mask!! -Jazz

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

Read on AO3 here!

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

CHAPTER THREE: A PICNIC FOR THREE.

“Of course, ma’am!” you chirp into the phone. “I’ll let Mr. Fushiyomo know. Thank you for calling and have a good day!”

You finally hang up the phone after the sweet lady says farewell and drop your smile as you let out a deep, bellied sigh. You look at the clock on the desktop computer that you have in your cubicle. Only fifteen minutes until your lunch break.

You press a hand to your rumbling stomach. You’re not sure where to go for lunch today. Maybe the cafeteria or that little cafe a block down from the agency. They’ve got good salads and sandwiches there.

But you can’t even focus on your hunger with how much your pussy is throbbing. You sit in your cubicle now, your legs pressed tightly against each other under your desk. You could always rub your clit or finger yourself to ease the tension. Everyone is too busy working to notice, so they wouldn’t know. But you would know, and you’d die of shame if you did that.

However, the ache isn’t as bad as this morning. Before you got dressed and left for work, you gave yourself two more orgasms–one with your fingers and the next by (embarrassingly) rubbing your panty-covered clit against the corner of your kitchen counter while your coffee brewed. After that, you made up your iced coffee, got your key card for the bus, and were on the move.

Even better, though you missed them terribly and ached to see them, your boyfriends haven’t called you since this morning when you sprouted into heat. You suppose it’s for the best since you’re sure you’d jump their bones as soon as you saw them. Other than that, none of your symptoms have gotten worse. “So far, so good,” you whisper to yourself.

You turn to your computer to get some more work done before lunch, wanting to distract yourself from the naughty daydreams.

However, God seems to have another plan for you when you hear a soft knock on the wall of your cubicle. You turn with a smile plastered on your face, expecting to see a coworker or your boss or the bitch secretary he has that you’re sure he’s fucking around with.

However, your smile fades when you see Kiri standing there, leaning up against your cubicle with those damn tattooed arms crossed and a toothy smile on his face. His hair is pinned back in a low ponytail, accentuating his handsome face where an eyebrow piercing adorns his brow. He’s out of his hero fit for the day, dressed in some ripped jeans and a nice pink button-down that stretches over his pecks and abs. Why the fuck did he have to wear pink and look so yummy in it? Does he hate you?

“Sorry,” he chuckles sheepishly. “Was just tryna find the bathroom.” You turn around fully in your chair, anxious now. “What are you doing in here?” you whisper. You peek over your cubicle at the others, wondering if anyone is watching and wondering why the hell Red Riot is conversing with one of the office workers. Especially the bunny girl.

“Relax, cutie,” he snickers softly. “I come to the office all the time to see if any reports come in. Just came to see if you had lunch yet.” You shake your head, doing your best to keep your thighs shut tightly. “Not yet, no. I go in...” You look at the time. “Ten minutes.”

“Then in ten minutes, you meet me and Katsuki outside,” he says with a secretive smile. “Can’t tell you why. It’s a surprise. But trust me; you’ll love it!” He puts his large hand out for yours, a sweet look in his eyes. Slowly, you put your hand in his and regret it instantly because the physical contact only makes your pussy throb more for him.

Slowly, Kiri bends down and presses his lips to your knuckles, his eyes pinned to yours. You only watch, soft, baited breaths coming out from your parted lips. Your body shivers at the feeling of his lips on your skin and you imagine it in other places. You feel your ears and tail twitch excitedly.

He then winks at you as he departs. “Ten minutes,” he whispers. “Don’t be late, cutie.” Then he’s walking out of your cubicle, whistling as he does. You sit there speechless for a few seconds, trying to process what just happened.

Then you wonder if you just even go ahead and meet up with them judging from your body’s reactions to the sheer sight of Kiri. Obviously, he wants you to go to lunch with them, but can you really stand to sit in the same presence as your sexy and attractive boyfriends while you’re like this? You sigh, groaning softly as you look up at the ceiling of your office. For one, you’re hungry, and two, you don’t want your cycle to keep you away from your boys. Plus, you owe it to them to talk about this. They deserve to know...maybe after lunch though.

So, against your better judgment, you leave your cubicle when your lunch break finally arrives. Before you leave the building, you stop by the bathroom to check yourself out and make sure you look ‘normal’.

You smile at your cute outfit for the day: a top with a sweetheart neckline you paired with a push-up bra, the combo making your breasts look immaculate; a pencil skirt that hugs your ass and hips; and a light cardigan to hide your tail and pair with your flats. Your ears are tied down with an elastic band underneath your hair, concealing all signs of a bunny girl. “You’ve got this, bitch,” you whisper to yourself. Then you’re hustling out the door and the building into the bright sun rays and the warm air of spring.

And finding yourself face to face with your fine-ass boyfriends and their sports car. Kiri sits on the hood of the car while Bakugou is leaning up against the driver’s door, arms crossed and one foot up. He is out of his hero fit as well, instead dressed in a black tee that looks so small on his lean build, jeans, black kicks, and a denim jacket. Though the sleeves conceal his tatts, you can see the ones that lace his knuckles and the one on his neck that drives you insane.

He’s already looking at you as you descend down the steps to the agency’s front doors, the sun glinting against the lip ring dangling from his plump, pink bottom lip and the platinum hairs on his head he has cut into an undercut along the sides. He pushes his Ray Bans up on his head and your clit jumps at the sight of his ruby-red eyes. “Took ya long enough,” he grumbles with a smirk. “Thought I was gonna have to drag you out of there by them ears.”

“You could’ve tried,” you hum, crossing your arms as you eye him up and down. “That would’ve gotten you a black eye AND no love from me.” Bakugou yanks you forward by your skirt waistband and with a tiny yelp, you fall into his open arms. “You had me at no love,” he whispers against your jaw before kissing you there. The tiny act of affection sends your senses into hyperdrive, as well as his scent. Like vanilla with a hint of cologne.

When Kiri comes up behind you to give you a squeeze, his scent of cinnamon and his own cologne doesn’t make it any better. Not to mention his hard muscles pushing up against your back as he wraps his arms around you and Bakugou. You swallow hard, your heart throbbing in your chest when you find yourself trapped between them. “U-Um,” you stutter. “Shouldn’t we get in the car? Won’t someone see us?”

“Who cares?” Bakugou grumbles. “Anyone says shit, they can deal with me.”

“It’s about time we went public with our relationship, don’t you think?” Kiri chuckles as he pecks your neck. “At work, I mean. I think we’ve been lowkey for long enough, don’t you?” You’re speechless, their words processing slowly in your head. Then a stupid grin slides across your face

as well as your ears fighting to rise from their trap in the elastic band and pulses making their way to your clit.

You don’t have a chance to reply because they’re suddenly freeing you of their trap and Bakugou is opening the car door for you. “You gettin’ in or what?” he asks. “I’m starving.” As you crawl into the backseat, he gives you an open-palmed smack on the ass that makes you yelp and your tail twitch. Bakugou cackles. “Fuck, that’s adorable!” he laughs before he’s shutting the door and making his way to the driver’s side while Kiri slides into the passenger’s seat.

“So where are we going?” you ask curiously, trying to calm your ears by smoothening them down. Kiri and Bakugou look back at you, mischievous and excited. “It’s a surprise” is all Kiri replies with as Bakugou starts the car, and you’re peeling away from the agency, windows down and wind in your hair.

As Bakugou peels down the streets of Musutafu, Kiri and you rap along to Kiri’s playlist of favorite hip-hop songs, the entire tiny space of the car taken up by the sounds of your voices and the spring air blowing through the open window. You giggle and laugh, feeling giddy and happy as you sit in the backseat, feeling good to be with the two people you feel so close to.

The drive doesn’t last long; it lasts for only fifteen minutes. After coming off a highway, Bakugou parks the car in the parking lot in a famous park in Musustafu, known for its lush plantlife, animal reserve, hiking trails, lakes for fishing, and playground for the kids. You don’t see too many cars parked when Kiri helps out of the backseat being that it’s a weekday. Everyone is either in school or at work.

Which means you three are practically alone, surrounded by gorgeous, lush wildlife. For some reason, this makes your stomach flip. You eye the park map in front of you, noticing Bakugou parked on the side where the hiking trails are closer. “Where are y’all takin’ me?” you ask, laughing lightly. “This is how horror movies start, y’know. Taking me into a deep, dark forest to chop me up into little bits.”

You turn to look at them, finding a blindfold dangling from Bakugou’s hand and an evil glint in his eye. Your eyes go wide and the fur on your ears stands on end. “Am I right?” you whimper.

Kiri throws his head back at laughs. “Relax, bunny,” he coos, nudging Bakugou. “This is for your surprise. We’ll take it off you once we’re there.”

Bakugou twirls his finger, signaling you to turn around. Though still reluctant, you slowly do as he says and softly gasp when the blindfold is suddenly over your eyes. You stand rigidly still as you feel his calloused fingers gently brush your neck and your ears. It is enough to make you burst. “Good girl,” he coos in your ear. “Can you see?” You wordlessly shake your head, your tongue dryer than sandpaper.

“Now up you go!” Kiri exclaims and you yelp, suddenly finding yourself off the ground and in his rock-solid, tatted-up arms. Your head leans against his solid chest as he brings you closer to him, one arm securely under your legs while the other is wrapped around your lower back. “Your personal chauffeur is here to assist you,” he chuckles. “Lead the way, Katsuki!”

With the scent of Kiri’s cologne and eucalyptus-scented shampoo in your nostrils, you feel him begin to move as he follows Katsuki to God knows where. With you being blind, all of your other senses are hyperaroused–you hear the sound of leaves and twigs crunching under your boyfriends’ footsteps and the sweet chirp of birds above and in the trees; you smell the scent of fresh manure, planted flowers, and mingling scents of Katsuki and Kiri, sweet and spicy; you feel the sun rays and the breeze on your skin, caressing the thin airs there. You softly sigh and lean your head against Kiri, relaxed. You could stay like this forever.

“Kay, we’re here,” Bakugou suddenly announces in his gruff voice. Slowly, Kiri sets you down on your feet. “Can y’all get this blindfold off me now?” you ask, impatient and wanting to get a look at this surprise. Kiri chuckles and does it for you, expertly untying the blindfold. “Okay,” he whispers. “Now open your eyes.”

You do so, blinking rapidly in the bright sun rays. “Ta-da!” he shouts, grinning happily at you, practically shoving Bakugou out of the way to proudly present your surprise to you. Your eyes are still adjusting to the sun, so you don’t start to register your surprise until a few seconds later.

And when they finally do, you can’t believe what you’re seeing. Settled in the middle of a beautiful clearing of wildflowers beside a babbling brook is the cutest little picnic you’ve ever seen. A plush All Might blanket is laid down on the grass, pinned down at the corners by several rocks. On top of the blanket sits a wicker basket and several dishes of fried chicken kara-age, rice balls, and bento meals.

You’re at a loss for words for a moment, taking in the setup. “Wha...” You close your mouth, realizing it’s hanging open. “What is this?” you softly ask, looking at your boyfriends. Bakugou scowls at you. “It’s a picnic,” he scoffs. “What the fuck else does it look like?”

Taking your hand, Kiri brings you closer to the picnic spread. “We know we haven’t had time to be together for a minute because of work, so we decided why not throw a nice picnic for you?.” He turns you around to face him, his eyes soft. “Plus, you’ve been working so hard, honey. We just wanted to show you some appreciation. Do you like it?”

“I...” Once again, you’re at a loss for words as you look between your boyfriends, one doing his best to hide his anxiousness than the other. You look at the picnic spread once more, your eyes taking in the food they made and paid for. How long did this take? How long had they been planning this?

And suddenly, your eyes begin to brim with tears. “Guys, I love it. No one’s ever done anything like this for me.” You cover your heart, touched. “Thank you.” Kiri’s face splits into a grin while Bakugou simply smirks. “You can thank us by sitting down and letting us feed you,” he replies before taking your hand and leading you away from Kiri who pouts at you being stolen from him.

You giggle as you’re sat down on the plush blanket. You sit with your legs folded under you and firmly pressed together. You won’t be caught slipping today. Bakugou and Kiri take their seats on either side of you and proceed to set up shop. Once the plates are passed out and the green iced tea is poured from the thermos, you dig into your lunch. You take a bite out of the kara-age first and your eyes widen as multiple flavors explode on your tongue. “Mmm!” you moan as you chew. “Oh, my God, this is amazing!”

Kiri laughs as he takes a bite out of his rice ball. “Thank Katsuki. He cooked most of the food.” Bakugou blushes but tries to hide by turning his face as he sips his tea. You look around at your surroundings fit for a painting. “How did you even find this place?”

“During a hiking trip last summer,” Kiri explains, a bit of rice on the corner of his lips. You wanna lick it off. “We got lost and just wound up finding this hidden gem.” He peers up at the trees above, the sun like a halo above the leaves. The golden rays illuminate his handsome face, making him appear almost angelic to you.

You feel a hand on your knee and you’re pulled out of your transfixed state to see Bakugou’s eyes on you. “This place is special to us,” he gruffly says. “And so are you.” His rough hand strokes your skin, his pinkie finger inching under the hem of your skirt.

Your body temperature grows, and the sun isn’t responsible. You can feel your pussy tightening at the soft touch of your boyfriend’s hand, almost wishing he’d move his hand up to your thigh under your skirt. ‘Stop,’ you scold yourself. Quickly, you move your leg from Bakugou’s touch, but act like it’s only because you’re shifting positions to get comfortable.

Luckily, he doesn’t notice. He’s too busy digging a strawberry out of the bowl of fruit to notice. He turns to you, the red fruit between his fingers. “Want one?” he asks. You nod, going to pluck yourself a strawberry or even a cantaloupe cube. However, he firmly lowers your hand, covering it with his own. His eyes are stern. “Uh-uh, hands down. I said I wanted to feed you.” Before you can answer, he takes advantage of your parted lips and slowly inserts the strawberry between them.

Your mouth opens wider on instinct, allowing his two digits to slip in between to put the small, red berry on your tongue. As your lips close around it, they also close around Bakugou’s fingers. He hums in satisfaction as his fingers slowly exit your mouth, his eyes staring into your eyes every single tortuous moment.

You’re not sure if Kiri notices and you can’t bring yourself to check. Your eyes are too transfixed on the heat in Bakugou’s gaze as he pops another strawberry in his mouth, some of the red juice dribbling down the corner of his mouth. Your ears and tail twitch at the sight, begging and pleading to be touched and stroked. Your heart is pounding so fast and loud in your ears that you’re afraid Kiri and Bakugou hear it too. Not to mention your pussy. The poor girl is gushing, soiling your panties as you do your best to conceal the feeling by squeezing your legs together.

‘Just breathe,’ you think, attempting to do abdomen breathing. ‘Just fuckin’ breathe. You’re fine. You’ve got this. You–’

“Hey, you alright?” Kiri’s deep voice laced with concern snaps you out of your self-soothing state. You turn to him and see the worry in his softened eyes. “Yeah!” you squeak a little too forcefully. You clear your throat and try again, acting like you’re not horny as fuck. “Yeah, why?”

“You seem kinda jumpy.” Kiri quirks a reassuring smile at you as he takes a bit of kara-age. “I promise an axe-wielding maniac isn’t gonna interrupt us. And if they do, you’ve got us for protection.” He curls his arm at you, winking. You manage to laugh, but at this point, you’d welcome an axe-wielding maniac to avoid creaming all over yourself and embarrassing yourself to your boyfriends. How the hell are you going to survive the rest of this lunch if they’re this sexy?

Kiri must notice you internally battling with yourself because he puts his hand on yours. The small, innocent touch is enough to make you yelp, your tail twitching even more. “You sure you’re good?” he asks, squinting at you. “Sweetheart, you know you can tell us anything, right? We wanna make you happy.”

Bakugou hums in agreement from the other side of you, scooting closer to put a hand on your lower back.‘Oh, God,’you think to yourself, begging for release from this sweet torture. What would really make you happy is them taking you right here, right now on this blanket: one of their faces between your thighs, their fingers plunged in your pussy, while the other is behind you tweaking at your nipples or even sliding their cock in your mouth.

You quickly grasp onto the first explanation you can think of. “Guess I’m thinking about everything I’ll have to do when I get back to work,” you sigh apologetically. “I’m afraid I can’t turn off my worker switch.”

Bakugou scoots closer, laying a hand on your thigh. “We can help with that,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. It reacts immediately, twitching against the elastic band holding it down “Let her eat first, Katsuki, jeez!” Kiri scoffs, rolling his eyes. “And you call me a pervert.”

Bakugou tells him he is, indeed, a pervert, but leaves you alone for a while to eat (and avoid whipping his dick out yourself). The rest of lunch is luckily a breeze, nothing but jokes, stories, and sharing the dango Bakugou packed. When all the food is nearly gone, you sit back and sigh, your stomach full and head foggy.

You smile in gratitude at your boyfriends. “That was amazing,” you yawn, earning a laugh from Kiri. “Thank you.” You’re now in need of a nap, but there’s no way you can sleep with your body going through such turmoil.

“Of course,” Kiri hums, happy that you’re happy. Bakugou finishes cleaning up and sets the basket aside before fixing you with a rather intense stare. “So about this ear thing…”

You blanch, the happy, content feeling you felt from the food dying. Of course, he’d bring this shit up. “Do you like gettin’ your ears tugged or touched on?” he asks, raising an interested eyebrow. You turn to Kiri for help, but even he looks intrigued, lying on his side as he stares up at you.

“Um...” Nervous butterflies flutter around in your stomach. You’ve never talked about this with them before, except for some stories of strangers tugging on your ears which indirectly let them know to steer clear of them and your tail. They’re the most sensitive parts of your body. “W-Well, only with people I really trust,” you struggle to answer. “Like y’all two, for example.”

’Fuck!’ you think. That was the wrong answer. “Huh,” Kiri says, sounding surprised. “I was sure you didn’t like that because of the kind of shit you put up with from strangers.”

“That’s only with unsolicited and non-consensual contact,” you explain. “But with you two...” You wriggle around under their hot gazes and the sun’s rays, feeling like you’re in an oven. “I’d definitely consent...i-if you want to!”

What the fuck are you doing? You know if they even so much as graze your ears or tail, which are already hyper-aroused, it’s over for you. There’s no way you wouldn’t want them to fuck you right on this blanket. ’It’s only one touch,’ you think, criticizing the logical part of you. ‘What’s the harm in that? Plus, you’ve been dating them for five months. It’s not like you’re letting them finger you.’ ...Though you want them to.

Bakugou looks like he just won the lottery. “Shit, are you kidding?” he scoffs. “I’ve been wanting to touch on these cute lil’ things for months now.” The way he eyes your ears makes you flush. Kiri sits up straighter, his eyes trained on your ears as well. “Me too,” he agrees softly, “but let us know if you want us to stop or slow down. I know this is something we’ve never done before.”

You nod and keep your hands firmly in your lap as their hands move toward your ears. They’re slow and careful, giving you time to react if you want. When you don’t, they take that as a yes to keep going. When their fingers make contact with the tips of your ears, the little spark of pleasure that explodes in your body is instant.

Your lips part to gasp softly as they begin to slowly stroke your ears from tip to base and back again. They are careful and gentle, stroking the soft fur in time with each other. You stay relaxed, not wanting to scare them, but damn, does it feel good! And it feels so, so wrong to feel this good. The sweet nothings they whisper to you don’t make your situation any better: “Wow, babe,” Kiri coos in wonder. “They’re so soft...so pretty...”

Bakugou grunts in agreement. “It’s a shame you keep ‘em tied back like this. Pretty lil’ things are so restricted.” He gently kneads the tip of your ear between his forefinger and thumb before tugging on it gently. The tiny ministration makes your clit jump and your core feel warm. You’re gonna squirt right now if you don’t stop this.

“O-Okay, guys,” you squeak. “I think we should–” You feel your ears aggressively twitch, causing Kiri to gasp. “They’re twitching!” he announces. “Maybe we should take ‘em out of this elastic band, you think?”

“Wait, Kiri, don’t!” you shout in a warning, but it’s too late. He’s already moving to unwind the band from the base of your ears, releasing them. Your ears stand up on top of your head, excited and aroused. The fur there is fluffy and frazzled as if charged by electricity, desperate for more stimulation. Your tail does the same–it is fluffier than usual and twitching annoyingly, wanting the same treatment.

You’re practically dying from embarrassment, feeling your boyfriends’ eyes on you. “Uh...does that usually happen with your ears?” Kiri carefully asks. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen them like this.”

“No,” you groan, wanting to crawl into a hole and die. “And your tail is fluffier than usual,” Bakugou adds, plucking the cotton tail connected to the top of your ass. You whimper at the contact and he notices. “What gives?” he asks with a confused scowl.

Now there’s no choice but to tell them. You heave a defeated sigh, turning around to face them both. “I have to talk to you guys about something, and please don’t laugh because this is so embarrassing for me.”

They say nothing and you take that as green to go. Imagining Mina and Jirou hyping you up, you look your boyfriends in the face. “Y’all know anything about spring cycles?” you ask.

The way your boyfriends are looking at you, you’d think you asked if they knew the name of every star in the solar system. They stare at each other, sharing the same look of pure confusion. “Uh...” Kiri trails off, sounding lost. “No clue.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Bakugou scoffs, scowling at you. “The fuck is a spring cycle?” You sigh, realizing that now you’d have to explain it.

“It’s...well...” Your shoulders slump as your mind goes blank, not sure how to start this. “Fuck, this is gonna be harder than I thought.” How are you supposed to tell them about this without looking like a dick-sick freak? You’d look exactly like what people think bunny girls are (according to you and your experiences).

Kiri scoots closer to you and puts a comforting hand on your back. “Take your time, babe,” he says encouragingly. “We won’t rush you or judge you. You know we’re great listeners.”

Yes, they absolutely are. Through all of these five months of getting to know each other, whether you’re talking about your favorite foods or the daily struggles and troubles of being a bunny girl, they listened to you intently, all eyes on you. And they’ve never, ever judged you. You inhale deeply through your nose, attempting to calm yourself. You can do this. You have to.

“Okay,” you exhale, more to yourself than to them. “I don’t know if y’all learned this in school, but some mammals go into these cycles during the spring that leads to mating...since the springtime is mating season and…”

You trail off, realizing you are rambling and the guys are becoming even more confused. You bite your bottom lip as the butterflies in your stomach continue to flutter about. But you won’t let them stop you. “As an animal hybrid,” you continue, “I go into these cycles every spring too. Usually, they begin on the first day of spring, but mine is a bit early. It’s kinda like when a woman goes through menstruation every month, but I don’t bleed or have any cramps during this cycle. However, I do have mood swings and my body can become overly sensitive.”

You stop, dropping your head to stare down at your hands. “I ovulate more too,” you mumble.

You wait for either one of your boyfriends to reply, but after a beat of silence, you realize they’re too quiet. You look up at them, finding them wearing the same confused stares they were minutes before.

“You’re losin’ me,” Bakugou says, looking increasingly pissed. You groan in frustration, running a hand down your face. “Fuck!” you snap. “I’m in heat, okay? I’m going through a heat cycle!”

The guys are once again silent, but it’s a different type of silence now that the truth is in the air. “Wait,” Kiri says, slowly processing your words. “People with animal quirks go through that too? Wait, does that mean Rumi and Hawks go through the same shit?”

“And any other pro hero or regular person with an animal quirk?” Bakugou asks curiously

“Technically, yes,” you reply, “but it doesn’t affect every person with an animal-type quirk the same way. We all go through heat differently, but they all start at the same time. For me, my body temperature and heart rate increase, I get short of breath, and certain parts of my body become very sensitive very quickly.”

“Like your ears and tail,” Kiri adds, the wheels in his head finally turning. You slowly nod, and as if validating this, your tail gives a little twitch. The handsome redhead sits back on his haunches, this new information processing all over his face.

Bakugou looks almost amused, with a bit of disbelief thrown in the mix. “So the reason you’ve been actin’ so weird is because you’re horny?” he scoffs, trying not to laugh. You manage to crack a smile, glad this is going so smoothly. They’re not mad. They’re not disgusted.

“Extremely, unbelievably horny,” you answer honestly. “It doesn’t help that I’m so attracted to both of you.” The two smile happily at this. “Any time you touch or even look at me, I’m ready to...” You flush, your words falling short.

“Fuck us?” Bakugou finishes, raising his pierced eyebrow. You wordlessly nod, avoiding eye contact. “Well, that explains a lot,” Kiri comments, moving to hold your hand in his. His gaze is soft and adoring. “Baby, why didn’t you just talk to us about this? If it’s bothering you, we wanna help you.”

Under his loving touch and eyes, and Bakugou’s intense stare, you feel extremely stupid. “Because,” you reply, shame filling you, “you’ve been so good to me since we’ve been together. And I know we talked about taking it slow. Plus, I didn’t want you to think of me as anything other than what I’ve shown you I can be.”

“What do you mean?” Kiri asks softly. The compassion and kindness oozing from his crimson eyes makes you want to cry even more. You’ve never felt such tenderness.

“Bunny girls get a bad rep to begin with,” you explain. “We’re looked at as hyper, needy, cum-hungry people who need to fuck or we’ll die. That’s why all of my relationships have always crashed and burned because the dudes I was seeing didn’t see me as anything other than that.” You take Kiri and Bakugou’s hands into yours, looking into their eyes. “I-I wanted it to be different with us.”

You watch with anxiety twirling in your gut as your confession processes across their faces. Kiri looks wounded, the hurt in his eyes for you palpable. “Fuck, babe,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you felt that badly about it.”

But Bakugou is less than gentle in his approach. “You’re fuckin’stupid, you know that?” he growls, an irked expression on his pretty face. “We don’t think of you as that at all! The fact you’d even assume that pisses me off.”

You flush with shame under his scrutiny. “Wait a minute, Katsuki,” Kiri cuts in, trying to be the peacemaker, but Bakugou is too pissed to listen. He pins you to your spot with his heated, laser-like stare. “If we saw you as a slut, we wouldn’t have been pursuing you all that time before we told you how we felt. We wouldn’t have made friends with you to get to know you first. We would’ve fucked you from the jump, but we didn’t ‘cause we wanted more too, dumbass.”

Though his words still make you feel dumb, you also feel a burst of confidence knowing such sexy guys pined for you the way you did for them too. “Katsuki’s right, babe,” Kiri says, grinning supportively at you. “We’ve always wanted to show you the utmost care and respect; that includes handling this. If it’s bothering you, let us fix it.”

You scowl in confusion. Fix it? “How long does this shit usually last?” Bakugou asks. You stare between the both of them, still confused. “Well, it’s worse during the first week of spring since it’s the first phase, but over time as the season goes on, it starts to fade. When summer hits, it’s done.”

“So what happens if you don’t relieve yourself?” Kiri asks, looking scared to ask. You’re embarrassed to answer. You shift on the blanket, clearing your throat. “I’m uncomfortably horny. Usually, relieving myself works, but as I’ve gotten older, my urges have gotten more intense. That’s why I tended to go for hookups until I met y’all two.”

“I guessin’ those hookups only did so much for you,” Kiri chuckles. “Well, lucky for you, you’ve got somethin’ not just for one night here, baby.” He sits up on his knees as does Bakugou, so they’re both towering over you. The devious looks in their eyes are all you need to realize what the fuck is transpiring.

“So how can we help?” Kiri purrs.

#kiribaku x black reader #kiribaku x reader #kiri the shark boi #suki baby #poly kiribaku #poly smut #my fic shit #my works #smutty smut #black coded reader #black fanfic writer #black writer

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zablife · 8 months

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The Last Supper

Requested by @evita-shelby for my 2K celebration An Evening at Arrow House. Warning: This is a dark fic 💀

A/N: Eva Shelby is an OC belonging to @evita-shelby. She is the new Mrs. Shelby in this fic instead of Y/n. Guest list for this party: Darby Sabini, Alfie Solomons, Michael and Gina Gray, Jack Nelson.

“Are you ready for tonight, my love?” Eva asked, straightening Tommy’s bow tie. She studied his face for any sign of hesitation or anxiety. His family had been cruel in recent weeks, unaccepting of his choice to marry a foreign woman they’d never met. Eva could have cared less what they thought, focused only on her new husband and the unique bond they shared. However, she worried about his fragile mental state, the breakdown which caused him to flee the UK less than a year ago still too fresh to be tested by caustic relatives and duplicitous business associates.

Tommy grasped her hands and kissed the inside of her wrists tenderly. “I’ll be fine as long as I have you. I only need you,” he reminded her. Eva inhaled deeply, a sense of love and devotion overwhelming her. In her whole life there had only been one man who stirred these emotions within her. Sometimes the need to protect him frightened her, the deeds she would be capable of without compunction. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him toward her in a searing kiss.

“I love you, Tommy,” she murmured against his lips.

“I never doubt that, Evie,” he replied, with a squeeze to her hip.

———————

Eva had spared no expense for their dinner party, a footman for every guest, the finest wine and carefully planned menu were all part of her plan to create an unforgettable evening. In an attempt to recreate the meal over which Tommy had proposed in Paris, she even hired a French chef. Not everyone knew how to prepare ortolan and it had to be done correctly as it was to be the pinnacle of the meal.

Satisfied that the cocktail hour had passed without incident, Eva sat listening to the ebb and flow of conversation at the dinner table. She busied herself watching those gathered before her, ensuring their comfort like any good host. When the waiters finally placed the next course before Tommy’s carefully chosen family members and associates, gasps could be heard echoing through the room. Some murmured whispers of confusion and others of mild disgust at the cadaverous little golden bird at the center of their plate.

Michael, who was seated next to Tommy, was the first to voice a complaint. “She couldn’t have served a roast?” he spat.

Tommy smirked at his cousin’s reaction to the dish, a gentle shake of his head indicating that wasn’t how his wife operated. “That’s my Evie. She’s quite unique,” he boasted.

Suddenly Eva’s voice rose above the din. She straightened regally in her chair at the end of the table like a queen holding court as she explained her unusual choice. “It’s ortolan, a most sinful delicacy I thought all of you might enjoy. Would you like to know why they're so delicious?” she asked no one in particular. Her lips curled into a devilish smile that left her companions shifting uncomfortably in their seats as she continued. "They capture these tiny creatures and force them into darkness where they gorge themselves on grain and figs. When they’ve doubled in size, they’re drowned in Armagnac and roasted whole.”

Thoroughly unimpressed, Gina scrunched her nose at the sight of her food before rolling her eyes. “I suppose they eat this vile sort of thing in Mexico?”

Eva’s jaw clenched momentarily, eyes flicking up to meet Gina’s as the candlelight reflecting in her irises seemed to mirror the fire inside her. “I told you, it’s French and very exclusive. Try it,” she insisted through clenched teeth.

“It’s true, it's quite rare. People are lucky to taste it even once,” Tommy explained.

“And how is it that Thomas Shelby is fortunate enough to have tasted this delicacy twice in one lifetime? Isn’t that a bit gluttonous?” Darby Sabini asked, his prominent lisp making his last word sound particularly accusatory.

“You would speak of my husband’s greed at his own dinner table?” Eva asked with raised eyebrow, moments away from telling everyone in the room what she knew of his own cupidity and egotism.

A booming laugh came from further down the table as Alfie Solomons exclaimed, “Fuck me, a bloody parrot on a plate! Well, I'll give it a go. How do we eat this, dove?” he asked, gathering his knife and fork with gusto.

“You pick it up by the head like so and eat it feet first,” Eva demonstrated, wincing slightly at the scalding temperature before delicately placing it back on her dish. “When the bones begin to crack ever so delicately in your mouth, the fat will mix with the delicious flavor of the organs on your tongue. There’s nothing like it,” she assured him.

“That’s monstrous!” Gina cried, staring at her host in horror.

Eva grinned wickedly. “Don’t worry, that’s what the napkin is for. To drape over your head to hide your face from God.”

“Can’t say it’s the worst I’ve ever done,” Jack Nelson chuckled as he grasped his napkin in his right hand, ready to accept the gruesome challenge.

“Exactemente,” Eva said with an encouraging nod of her head. “On my count everyone,” she said, manicured hand reaching for her own napkin as she gave a wink to Tommy. She counted down from five as she watched her hesitant guests fumble slightly, a few nervous glances exchanged as heads disappeared quickly under the linen cloths. A rush of quick inhales permeated the air as everyone rushed the piping hot delicacy to their mouths. Eva’s muffled voice could be heard beneath her own napkin as she finished the count. “Two, one,” she said breathlessly, covering the steps of the waiting footmen behind each guest.

For a brief moment the only sound that could be heard all around her was the abrasive crunching of bones, evidence of the devoured birds and the little sin committed. Just another in a long list for these damned souls, she thought.

“Tell me what you eat and I’ll tell you what you are,” Tommy and Eva had been told in Paris when they first consumed the dish. The words echoed in Eva’s mind as she braced for the shots that rang out next, followed by the clatter of china and crystal. Removing her napkin carefully, she surveyed the lifeless bodies of her husband's enemies slumped over the table, blood seeping onto their plates through their makeshift executioner's hoods.

The assassins dressed as footmen folded their aprons as Tommy instructed, "Tell Johnny Dogs to light the fire now."

"And tell the chef to prepare the next course," Eva added before they filed out of the room.

When she was finally alone with her husband, she noted how he too still held the delicate bird in his hand, uneaten.

"Shall we?" he asked, raising his napkin invitingly.

"I don't feel ashamed, do you?" she asked, tossing the linen aside with a smile.

"No," he replied with a decisive shake of his head.

"Then let God watch," she answered, eating her ortolan in one bite.

-----------

Tag List:

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@notyour-valentine

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@helen06dreamer

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@dearshelby

@cillmequick

@call-sign-shark

@peakyltd

@brummiereader

@runnning-outof-time

@emotionalcadaver

@thegreatdragonfruta

@noforkingclue

@thomashelbyswife

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby x OC #Tommy Shelby x Eva Shelby #zablife 2k celebration

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sejanusbaby · 2 years

Text

Being in a Relationship with Eddie Munson…

A/N: I literally manifested Eddie into Stranger Things. You don’t understand. He is actually dream boyfriend for me. I’ve never become so attached to a fictional character like this. I might make an NSFW version of this, or just turn this into a fic instead.

Warnings: Like, one curse word. Reader is female and uses she/her pronouns. Reader is also a bit of a “girly girl,” if you will. It’s also implied that the reader is shorter than Eddie. This might as well be a fic, but here we are.

I did not proof read this and sort of threw it together last minute, so I have everyone likes it. Let me know if I should turn this into a series instead! Also, send me any of your Stranger Things requests please!

Contains possible spoilers for Stranger Things, season four!

You had just transferred schools when you moved to Hawkins. Much against what you wanted, your parents had convinced themselves that the small town was the best place to be.

You wouldn’t have minded it, really. However, they chose to move right before your senior year began. This caused a ton of unwanted stress, on your part. You were forced to make new friends, in a new environment.

Your first day couldn’t go that bad, right? You stuck to your usual routine, styling your hair to perfection, wearing your pink lipstick and glittery eyeshadow. You had already set out your outfit for the day too. A light pink, long sleeved blouse with some ruffles on the sleeves. Your nicest blue jeans, with a pink belt, and some white flats.

Sure, you weren’t trying to impress anybody, but it wouldn’t hurt to make a good first impression. Right?

The assistant at the front desk was kind enough to give you your schedule for the semester. The school wasn’t too big, but still intimidating, nonetheless. She could probably tell by the look on your face.

Behind you, in one of the chairs, a boy, not much older than you, sat slouched over. He was tapping his foot, drumming his fingers on his knee. He had long, curly brown hair, tattoos scattered on different parts of his body, and wore a shirt with “The Hellfire Club” across it.

He must have felt you staring at him, because his finger drumming ceased, and he glanced up at you. His eyes were a warm, but dark brown. He smiled at you, causing your cheeks to flush, and you turned back to face the assistant at the desk.

“Okay,” the woman started to say. “Here’s a list of different clubs and extra curricular activities you might be interested in. Also, don’t forget the deadline coming up to pay for your cap and gown for graduation.”

You nodded, eager to figure out where your classes would be. As you took the paper from her, she glanced right behind you to the boy you had just noticed. “If I let you go now, do you think you could stay out of trouble for the rest of the day, Mr. Munson?” She inquired.

The boy stood up instantly, nodding his head, smiling. “Of course, Mrs. Nelson. I swear.” He said. The lady, Mrs. Nelson, rolled her eyes.

“The other condition is that you assist Ms. Y/L/N today, with helping her find her classes, and giving her a tour of the high school.” She stated, taking a seat in her chair.

“Yes, that’s no problem at all.” He said, still wearing a wide smile on his face. He rushed by you, opening up the door to the office, and gestured for you to go before him. “My lady, after you.” You smiled shyly. He was cute, for sure. Not someone you thought to be your type, though. Plus, you hadn’t even met anyone else yet. I’m sure there were plenty of other people in Hawkins that could be a match for you.

Eddie, on the other hand, felt his heart racing for some reason. You were so cute, the way your hair framed your face, the pink lipstick perfectly applied to your pretty lips, and the way you smiled. He needed to calm down, though. He didn’t even know you. He, quite literally, just met you.

“So, I didn’t quite catch your first name, hun.” He looked over to you. You blushed again, your eyes meeting his, only for you to break contact with them almost immediately. “It’s Y/N.” You said. “What’s yours?”

“It’s Eddie. Eddie Munson.” He shot a toothy grin at you. “So, where are you from, Y/N? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I used to live in New York, but my parents wanted somewhere more quiet to live, so here I am.” You explained to him. He listened, not interrupting at all.

“So, let’s see what we have here.” He said, snatching the schedule from your hands. “Hey, your first class is with Ms. O’Donnel. I have her first period too. Maybe we can talk more about you over a boring English lesson. What do you say, New York?” He teased you with the nickname. You smiled, starting to feel comfortable in his presence. “Totally.”

—

“Mr. Munson, are you and Ms. Y/L/N going to join us today?” The teacher asked, clearly annoyed with the whispering and giggling coming from you and Eddie.

“I’m sorry, Ms. O’Donnel.” Eddie cleared his throat. “I’m just helping Y/N here get comfortable with Hawkin’s High.” He nudged you with his elbow playfully, smiling at you. That damn smile, again.

—

Eddie helped you find each of your classes after that, even inviting you to sit with him and his friends at lunch.

After your first class, the day went pretty smoothly, until it was time for lunch. As you walked into the cafeteria, tray in hand, your eyes darted around to find Eddie, or at least an empty table to sit at.

Somehow, Eddie was able to spot you pretty quickly. He sauntered over to you, grasping one of your hands in his. You could feel the coolness of his rings on your own fingers. You had just met this guy. Why did it feel so natural to hold his hand? “Hey there again, New York. I saved you a seat right next to me.” You smiled as he led you to said seat.

“I’m honored to get to sit next to you, Munson.” You playfully teased. He laughed, “Hey, not many others have such privilege to be in your spot, New York.”

You noticed his friends eventually began to take there seats at the table. They were all sporting the same shirt that Eddie had been wearing. “So,” you began to say, “the Hellfire Club. What is that?”

“Have you ever heard of Dungeons and Dragons?” One of Eddie’s friends asked. He wore a baseball cap and had curls like Eddie. “I’m Dustin, by the way. Dustin Henderson.” He smiled brightly at you. You gave him a smile back. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Dustin. And yes, I know of D&D. I’ve never played though.” It was true. You had a younger brother who was into the game, though you never agreed to play with him and his friends.

Dustin was about to speak, when suddenly Eddie began speaking in a very deep voice, a magazine held up close to his face. “The Devil has come to America. Dungeons and Dragons, at first regarded as a harmless game of make-believe, now has both parents and psychologists concerned. Studies have linked violent behavior to the game, saying it promotes satanic worship, ritual sacrifice, sodomy, suicide, and even…” he trailed off, only to slam the magazine onto the table in front of him, “murder!”

You giggled at his impression, along with the others. “We’re freaks because we like to play a fantasy game.” He stood up on the table now. “But as long s you’re into band or science or parties or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets…”

Across the room, one of the basketball players stood up, looking at Eddie with a face of disgust. “You want something, freak?” He yelled. Eddie just stuck his tongue out at the guy, laughing while doing so.

“It’s forced conforming.” Eddie spoke. “That’s what’s killing the kids! That’s the real monster.” His friends laughed once again. Finally, he took his seat next to you again. “So, guys, this is Y/N.” He introduced you. His friends made brief introductions to you.

“So, uh, speaking of monsters, uh, Lucas has to do his, uh, balls-in-laundry-baskets game.” Dustin spoke, nervously. Eddie just glanced over at him. “So…” He trailed off, laughing, probably due to anxiety. “He’s not gonna be able to make it to Hellfire tonight.” He continued on, “And I know there’s no way we can beat your sadistic campaign without him. So, me and Mike were talking, shooting the shit, and we were thinking that maybe we might…” He paused.

“Postpone!” Mike finally spoke up, finishing off Dustin’s thought for him. Almost instantly, the majority of the group protested. After a heated discussion, Eddie came up with a solution for the two boys. Find a sub for this Lucas guy.

Dustin gestured to you. “What about your new girlfriend here, Eddie. She said she knows enough about the game. Have her sub for Lucas. Plus, you’ll get to spend more time with her that way.” The boy teased, chasing your cheeks to turn bright red. Eddie chuckled, looking to you.

“What do you say, New York? Just one time?” He asked, reached over and giving your hand a squeeze. “For me?” He put on a fake pouty face and batter his eyes at you. “Sure.” You agreed.

—

That was the beginning of you and Eddie’s relationship. You two became pretty much inseparable. Two best friends. You trusted him enough to try weed for the first time. Since then, you two met up at his trailer almost every day to smoke and hang out.

Your parents weren’t huge fans of him, as polite as he was when he came over to hang out with you. But they managed to tolerate your friendship with him.

One particular night, Eddie invited you over after school, and suggested a sleep over. “We can go pick up any movies you want to watch. We can even get pizza and smoke and have a good time.” He proposed to you, leaning against the lockers next to yours.

“I don’t know, Eddie. My parents would never let that happen. And I have that huge test on Monday to study for.” You rambled on. You were so cute, Eddie thought to himself.

“C’mon, sweetheart. It’s one night. Just tell your parents that you’ll be at Nancy’s. Plus, you have the rest of the weekend to study. I’ve barely gotten to see you this week.” He pleaded with you, holding his hand over his heart dramatically. You rolled your eyes. “Fine. Just pick me up from my place at 5 o’clock. Just so I can get some stuff together.” He smiled, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles.

“Of course, my lady. Your chariot will arrive at 5 o’clock sharp.” He said, smiling down at you. He was so pretty, you thought to yourself. “I’ll see you later, New York.” He called out, heading to his next class. You shook your head and laughed at him.

—

After picking you up, the movies up, and the pizza, you found yourself at Eddie’s trailer again. His uncle worked nights, so you knew you guys would have a smooth, undisturbed evening.

Eddie passed the blunt over to you, and began to set up the movie on the small TV that sat in the living room. You took a couple of hits from the blunt, and once your felt comfortably high, you passed the rest of it back to Eddie. You knew he’d finish it off, anyway. He always did. He knew you hated the burn.

The movie started, and you and Eddie began to eat your dinner together. He would make fun of the actors or characters most of the time. “Come on, Y/N. It’s so cheesy.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Someone’s got an attitude tonight.” He remarked, poking at you for fun.

“Eddie, I swear to God, if you touch me again, I will personally have to lay you out.” You laughed, threatening him playfully. He chuckled. “I would love to see you try, sweetheart.”

Without warning, you reached your hands over to Eddie, and began to attack his most ticklish spots. His ribs. “Not fair!” He protested, only to be cut off by more of his own laughter as you kept going.

At some point during all of this, you ended up on top of him, holding him down during your brutal attack to his sides. Eddie was able to get one of his free hands and start his own attack on you. “Hey!” You exclaimed, laughing uncontrollably now. You were both flipped now, Eddie pinning you down this time. He smiled down at you, and his hands ceased their attack on you. Once your caught your breathe, you noticed Eddie smiling down at you, his brown eyes locking into yours.

“Eddie—” you started to say. “You know, you’re so pretty, New York.” He said quietly. Without hesitation, you reached up to grab his face, and kissed him. He returned the kiss, his own hands finding their place on top of yours. He pulled away suddenly. “I’m sorry— I don’t know what I was thinking—” Eddie cut you off with another kiss. “Why are you apologizing. Don’t you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” He said quietly against your lips.

From that point on, you two were the knew “it” couple. Not for the same reasons that Steve and Nancy were. But because nobody understood why a girl like you was with a guy like Eddie.

Hell, even Eddie didn’t understand it. But he just knew how much he loved you and how lucky he was.

You two still continued to hang out pretty much every day. The hardest part was telling your parents about it. You told Eddie that you could tell them on your own. But he refused. “Your parents already don’t like me very much. The least I can do is be courteous and tell them I’m dating their daughter.” He had told you.

You were at every single band practice, too. And you showed up for every concert, as small as they were.

Everything was perfect. Eddie was completely in love with you.

He loves when you play with his hair, or even style it for him.

He’s just so proud of you. You’re the love of his life and he gets to call you his? It’s almost too good to be true.

Totally sneaks in through your window, now that your parents don’t let you have him over as much.

He usually takes you with him anytime he’s “doing business with someone.” This time, it happened to be Chrissy. Much to both of your surprises, but you could tell she was going through it.

It seemed like your presence with Eddie made it less intimidating for her, and you were glad it did. But when she asked for something stronger, and you and Eddie took her back to his trailer, everything went from totally perfect to a complete disaster.

#eddie munson #x reader #smut #imagine #fluff #headcanon #stranger things #joseph quinn #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader

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rapunzelforlorn · 7 months

Text

A heartstopper AU where Nick Nelson is an out and proud captain of the rugby team and a bisexual icon while shy art nerd Charlie has only ever liked girls before.

(Idk how to tag fics but this is PG-13.

Straight!Charlie)

It was the first day of class and Truham School for boys has announced new form groups. Charlie stared at the room number scratched onto the back of his hand for what felt like the millionth time today. He made it to the classroom door and took a breath. He knew none of his friends were going to be inside, they had already compared schedules. Elle was at Higgs now anyway. Charlie entered the classroom and said hello to the teacher.

"Charlie Spring!" Said Mr. Lange.

"Happy new year! Let's see, where did I put you on the seating plan... ah, yes, you're over there next to Nick Nelson, he's in year eleven only a year older than you."

Charlie nodded and headed to the back corner Mr. Lange had pointed to. Nick was already seated and was busy looking out the windown as Charlie approached. He looked at the seated boy; tall, broad shoulders, athletic type, with strawberry blonde hair that fell over the top of his head as he ran his hand through it. His attention was drawn back to the classroom as Charlie pulled out the chair, and set down his bag.

"Hi"

"Hi."

Charlie didn't know very much about Nick at all other than he was the captian of the rugby team and that he came out as bisexual last term. He remembered a random year 8 walk up to him, Tao, Elle and Issac during lunch

"Did you hear? Nick Nelson is gay! What a lo-"

Elle rolled her eyes. "I heard he was bi, actually"

The kid ran off before he heard her.

The weeks passed and Charlie found himself looking forward to form every day. He and Nick had been getting along really well and Charlie just felt so comfortable around Nick even though he couldn't figure out why. One day, Nick's pen exploded ink all over himself and Mr. Lange assigned Charlie to go with him to the washroom. It was an unlikely paring but Nick had somehow become Charlie's friend.

Charlie was going to lunch when his phone buzzed. He looked down at a message from Beth. Beth was a very popular year 11 whom he had met a year ago in the hall outside the band room. Since then, Beth would text Charlie and ask to see him regularly. Charlie still wasn't sure why she wanted to see him sometimes, especially when she didn't ever seem to want to hang out with him or even talk to him in the halls, but she was beautiful so Charlie would always find the empty room and there she would be. As soon as he closed the door behind him Beth was right there hands on his face, pressing him with kisses. Charlie pulled back, hesitant.

"Hello to you too."

Beth rolled her eyes. "Hey. I missed you." In between kisses.

Charlie pulled back again, farther this time.

"What do you want Beth?"

"What? Can't a girl miss her best boy?"

"I'm not your best boy, Beth. I'm not your anything. You won't even look at me in the halls and I'm tired of only ever seeing you in empty rooms while you snog the soccer player of the week at the front gate."

"Oooh someone's mad today." Beth said with a fake pout and another eye roll.

"I don't see why you're upset, you get to kiss me too, after all. Besides none of them kiss like you Charlie Spring."

Charlie held back the rage.

"Well I'm tired of being your guy on the side. Last year you told me how much you liked me but you didn't want your parents to know you had a boyfriend. It seems you're not afraid after all, you just don't want to be seen with me."

"Charlie its not my fault my friends think you're odd. It's not so much you, but your friends are all reaaaally weird. And you're in the band so like, you're a little odd."

She scoffs at the end of the sentance but then exclaims "heyyy!" When Charlie pushes her off him and opens the door. With the door open Beth jumps back and before she can protest Charlie says

"Don't text me anymore Beth. This thing between you and me? It's over." He leaves.

Nick walked down the hall searching for Charlie, he was sure his locker was down this hallway. Nick stood a head above everyone else so it didn't take him long to spot Charlie's dark curly hair half way down the row or spot a slender arm reach up and pull drum sticks out from inside.

Charlie plays drums? That's really cool, Nick thinks as he takes a deep breath before getting closer. He and Charlie had gotten considerably closer this term and Nick was trying to assure himself that the sensation that came over him anytime he was near Charlie was strictly platonic- just the excitement of making a new friend. Last year when he told the boys on his team that he was bisexual, a few of them had reacted poorly at first, and the teasing grew beyond typical banter. It wasn't long though before Nick's friends and the coach rallied and put a stop to the bullying, from students on and off the rugby team. Since then, he'd been navigating being out with the support of his friends and mother. His father wasn't around at all and his brother David was a dick about it still, but David was a dick about everything all of the time so it didn't bother Nick all too often.

"Allright?" Nick asked as he arrived at Charlie's locker.

Charlie looked up at Nick and smiled. Nick couldn't help but smile wide back and he scolded himself internally as he needed to stop this crush on Charlie Spring. The devishly handsome musician with long curls and the brightest eyes Nick had ever seen. Charlie is -straight- Nick hissed to himself. He's one of those artsy boys that girls love because he's quiet. They think it's mysterious.

"Alright." Said Charlie.

"You play the drums?" Said Nick. "That's cool. So listen uh- me and my mates were talking and. Do you uhm. Do you wanna try outfortherugbyteam" it all came out at once.

"Do I what?" Said Charlie, processing Nick's one syllable question.

"Try out for the rugby team? We have enough players for the team but we cant compete without a reserve."

Charlie smirked and raised his eyebrows.

"A whole school full of boys and I'm the best reserve, Truham has to offer? I dont think I'm the right type" he said with a flourish of his drum sticks.

"Aw come on, we're not your typical team!" Gesturing back to himself. "Loads of different types can play rugby! And I've seen you in PE. You can run really fast!"

"I'll think about it." Charlie said.

"Just come to practice."

As he walked away Charlie watched him go before blinking and realizing he'd kinda been staring. Nick had such a beauty to him that was still unmistakably boyish. Charlie blinked again. Beauty?

~~~~~

I really wasn't planning on writing all of that the post started with the promt and then I kinda immediately wanted to write it??

I haven't written anything in like 7 years and I haven't ever in my life posted something like this so please be nice 🥲 if this gets even 1 note I'll definitely write part 2 cause it was fun but I let my dinner get cold so I thought that would be an okay place to stop/pause. I hope yall like it and hopefully I tagged it all properly.

#heartstopper #heartstopper au #charlie spring #nick nelson #straight!charlie spring #au #fan fiction #writing

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evita-shelby · 11 months

Text

National Anthem

History changes forever when the enigmatic witch marries Jack Nelson in 1918.

Rated: M 🔞

Moodboard done by @zablife

Taglist: @cljordan-imperium @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife @call-sign-shark

Oneshots: Like an American

Guide for reading in chronological order

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

#eva smith nelson #mrs nelson fic #jack nelson x eva smith #jack nelson x oc #national anthem fic

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fastlikealambo · 2 years

Text

Bloodsinger: Vampire! Eddie Munson x Black Reader Drabble Part 1/5

Summary:

Out of every news source in the country, the one and only lead singer of Corroded Coffin and self proclaimed vampire Eddie Munson has decided to do a sit down interview with The Hawkins Post. Instead of your boss, you’re sent to a mansion on Halloween Night and you’re in no way prepared for what’s in store.

Trigger Warnings: violence, gore, blood k!nk , a tinsy bit of cardiophilia if you squint, 80s workplace sexism

Inspired by: The Vampire Chronicles, Lost Boys, Vampire Diaries, Twilight, honestly every single vampire trope and cliche is in present and accounted for in this fic.

minors dni, I check.

I couldn’t stop myself guys, this is so cheesy

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” You grumbled in front of your boss.

“You better believe it cupcake, they’re sending a car in 15 minutes.” He grumbled right back, blowing smoke directly into your face.

“ Not only did you give my story away to Nelson, you’re sending me on the Munson piece without any preparation? This is supposed to be your story, the one to put Hawkins on the map, why am I doing this instead of you?”

“Because I gotta take my kid trick or treating and we figured sending a girl would open that freakshow up a bit. “

“You can’t possibly think he’s a real vampire? Vampires don’t exist, this is nothing but a gimmick to sell tickets.”

With a barking laugh, your boss shoves a notepad, a camera, and tape recorder into your arms.

“Well I guess you’ll just have to find out for us, won’t you? That band is the biggest thing in pop culture right now and that thing in the mansion is going to save what’s left of this newspaper. I don’t care if he’s the easter bunny, you’re going to smile, unbutton a few of those buttons, and get this story. Do I make myself clear?”

Somewhere close, a car beeps.

“That’s your ride sweetheart, run along and make me proud.”

A man in a suit awaits you when you finally get outside, clearly annoyed.

“ Please get in, Mr. Munson is waiting for you.” The driver said in a monotone voice.

Before you can do so, the driver slips the camera off your shoulder, throwing it to the ground, looking far too pleased with himself to see the shocked look on your face.

“Mr. Munson has a strict no photography rule, I hope you understand.”

“ And I hope I’ll be reimbursed so this doesn’t come out of my paycheck.”

The drive is silent but short as you look over the questions your boss chose while the last bit of daylight fades away. Before you know it, you’re outside of a glorious mansion surrounded by iron gates and a crowd cheering and booing.

The driver opens your door and leads you through the crowd of people, one of which grabs your arms before you can step through the front gate.

“God be with you child, for the dead travel fast.” He whispered, slipping a cross necklace into your hands before the driver yanks you inside and into a sitting room.

“He’ll be but a minute, try not to touch anything.”

There was nothing for you to touch, standing in the completely dark room, arms wrapped around yourself to brace against the chill.

A sudden gust of wind blows the door open and out of politeness you close it, the crowd having grown in the moments since you arrived.

Yeah, nope, I’m out of here.

“You didn’t sound this beautiful on the phone.” A voice drawls from behind you and you turn to find the room suddenly lit, candles on every surface, a roaring fire in the fireplace that you could have sworn wasn’t there before the door opened.

Straddling a chair in front of the fireplace, guitar in his lap is the one and only Eddie Munson. You’d seen him before on MTV and some concert footage here and there but nothing could prepare you for the truly handsome man in front of you.

“Well it wasn’t me on the phone, my colleague was unable to meet with you so they sent me instead. If you’d like to reschedule with him I can-

“I’d much rather do this with you, please, come closer.” He beckoned with ringed fingers, patting the chair across from him.

You clear your throat and straighten up, all business as you sit down and force yourself to meet his eyes.

“I’ll keep this short and simple Mr. Munson. I know you’re not a vampire so I’ll skip the vampire related questions and just focus on the promotion of your band’s new album, you get the publicity you want and I’ll get out of your hair in less than an hour. We’ll start with some softball questions-

In one fluid motion, he puts his guitar to the side and pulls your chair closer to his.

“And what makes you think I’m not a vampire, baby?”

“Because vampires aren’t real and I’m not your baby.”

You’re temporarily distracted as the crowd outside has grown louder, more people have joined the group, some even in halloween costumes.

“Who are all these people outside, your fans?” You asked, gesturing to them but he only shrugged.

“Some are, some think they’ll catch a glimpse of the devil if they stick around long enough.”

“And do you think you’re The Devil Mr. Munson?”

“ You know you can just call me Eddie, right? Would it be easier for you to believe I was the devil and not a vampire?” He asked with a smirk.

“Neither exist. I thought I was the one asking the questions here?”

That makes him laugh, echoing throughout the home.

“I like you, for someone alone in a room with a vampire you’re not afraid. Most would be.” The rocker leans forward in his seat with a mischievous smile at your exasperation.

“I’m not afraid because I’m not in the presence of a vampire. I don’t get it, your music stands on its own, gimmicks are beneath your band’s hard work. Why prop up your art on cheap ploys for attention?” You ask,a bit more sharply than you mean but he just stares at you in curiosity rather than anger.

“Have you always had a heart murmur?”

“Excuse me?” That question brings your banter to a halt and you put your pen down.

“ Have you always had a heart murmur?” He repeats, cocking his head to one side.

“I was born with it. You know, stealing medical records is a felony in all fifty states so I think it might be best if we pretend this interview never happened. I should go.”

Before you can stand, he takes your wrist in his hands, lips hovering over your pulse point.

“I know that because I can hear it. Just like I can hear that pretty little bra of yours scraping against your skin, just like I know that I touch you in three very special spots, I can have you soaking wet all over my hardwood floors.”

“You are way out of line! I don’t know if this is some weird shit rich people do to pass the time, but I don’t want any part of it. I’m not something to laugh at and neither is my job. Good night Mr. Munson.” With that you rip your wrist out of his grasp, gathering up your things. You shouldn’t have come here.

“Wait-”

The sound of the window exploding behind you cuts off what you hope is an apology. For a second the room seems to tilt and twist until Eddie’s face is right above yours, a large piece of concrete in one hand, you in the other.

You can hear the screaming dispersing crowd and sirens in the background but you’re a tiny bit distracted at the sight of a particularly large piece of glass lodged in your shoulder.

Oh this night just keeps getting better and better.

“ Do you trust me?” He asks, quickly lowering you to the ground, softly stroking your cheek.

“No.”

“Yeah, thought as much. Take a deep breath in, on the count of three. One, two-” You open your mouth to remind him the first rule of having pointy objects lodged inside your body is not to remove them until help comes but you let out a pained cry as the glass is in his hand before he even gets to three.

There’s a sudden wetness soaking your shirt and Eddie’s hands, and everything starts to get a bit fuzzy but not fuzzy enough for you not to miss seeing Eddie’s eyes narrow and his canines elongate.

As he licks your blood from his fingers, peaceful blackness finally creeps into your vision and the last thing your eyes focus on is not his face but the portrait hanging above his fireplace.

A portrait of a woman who looks a lot like you.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x yn #vampire eddie munson

312 notes · View notes

sesamestreep · 4 months

Text

a little friend-iversary gift 💕

for the amazing, magical @firstelevens: a fic set in her critically acclaimed and universally beloved teachers AU. Thanks for all the good advice and hand holding and 8 hour video calls this past year, and for always generously welcoming me to play around in the sandboxes you build!

The idea starts innocently enough. Well, okay, maybe “innocently” is a bit of a stretch. Sam’s an English teacher; he should know better than to try and make words mean something they don’t. Perhaps the best way to explain it is that he didn’t come up with the idea himself. Everything that comes after is definitely his fault, but the inception of the idea? That can definitely be blamed on his students.

It’s during the period where he’s got study hall that the fateful conversation happens. He normally doesn’t pay attention to what the students chat about as long as they don’t get too loud or rambunctious. He usually has his own work that he needs to get done, and it’s better to just leave them to their own devices rather than micromanage their behavior. But on this particular day, Aida comes in late with a pass from the guidance office and barely responds to Sam’s greeting before she’s sliding into a desk next to her friends and urgently whispering about something to them. That captures his attention pretty effectively. And it’s not his fault that they’re sitting close to his desk, close enough to overhear with minimal effort.

If it had been about other students or personal matters, Sam would have probably checked out immediately and gone back to his work. He makes it his policy not to get overly invested in student gossip, unless someone’s in danger or the student involved comes to him personally to talk about it. This isn’t that. This, it turns out, is faculty gossip.

“Heartbreaking news,” Aida declares somewhat dramatically.

“Oh, God,” Courtney says, “did something happen with your scholarship application?!”

“What? No. I mean, Mr. Murdock helped me finish it, so it’s, like, all set now, yay! But that’s not the news!”

“What happened?”

“Mr. Murdock BROKE MY HEART!”

Sam’s eyebrows raise at that. Matt’s been working at this school for a few years now and he’s always seemed totally solid in Sam’s opinion. Sam has never once seen him be weird or inappropriate with any student, to the point that Foggy often teases him for being too guarded with them. Most of the students adore him anyway, though, so this conversation is more than a little surprising.

“Oh, here we go,” Courtney says, and Sam doesn’t have to look over to see an eye roll when he can hear one in her tone so clearly. “Aida, you’ve gotta stop listening to every rumor about the teachers here! They’re not all secretly dating or like mysteriously independently wealthy.”

“Yeah, but that thing about Coach Barton LARP-ing in his spare time turned out to be true, though!”

“Okay, good point.”

“Besides, I’m like convinced that Mr. Murdock and Mr. Nelson are dating.”

“Mr. Nelson wears a ring, dingus,” Bridgit chimes in.

“And Mr. Murdock doesn’t,” Courtney adds. “Case closed.”

“Listen, I won’t go through all my evidence again,” Aida replies. “Because…I’ve finally seen the light.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Are you feeling alright?!”

“Yes,” Aida says, bravely. “I just came from Mr. Murdock’s office and we were talking about my scholarship applications and that got us talking about how I volunteer at the senior center and I was saying that I was going to help at their Valentine’s Day event this week and then I asked if he was doing anything special for the holiday and…”

“Aida!” Bridgit shrieks “You did not!”

“It’s not that weird to ask!” She pauses for a second, clearly thinking it over. “I mean, is it?”

“It’s so weird. What’s wrong with you?” Courtney says.

“Well, he was more normal about it than either of you. He just said he didn’t have anything special planned, that he’d probably have a chill night in.”

There’s a significant pause, before Bridgit asks, “Sorry, how does this qualify as heartbreaking news exactly?”

“Um, maybe because Kris had a meeting with Mr. Nelson yesterday where he said he was going to cook this big, fancy meal for his partner and said that it was going to take days to prepare?? And Mr. Murdock isn’t doing anything, so they’re obviously not together.”

“We literally already knew that.”

“I didn’t!”

“That’s because you’re delusional,” Courtney says, not quite gently. “And you have a weird parasocial relationship with our guidance counselors.”

“That’s not true! I just thought, based on how they are when they're together at school, they must have something going on outside of it!”

“Despite the fact that one of them wears a wedding ring and references a partner all the time, and one of them doesn’t and refuses to confirm or deny the existence of a significant other at all.”

“Despite the fact that Kamala and Miles totally saw him with a beautiful, blonde woman at a Nationals game that one time.”

“He can have beautiful female friends, you know,” Aida protests. “I stand by that. I was just maybe wrong about him and Mr. Nelson.”

“Listen, everyone knows those two are, like, work married. They’re just not married married for real. There’s no way.”

“Yeah, Mr. Murdock is for sure straight, too.”

“You don’t know that,” Aida replies, defensively. “I mean, not that I’m speculating, but you can’t know. Not for sure. He’d never talk about that.”

“No, of course not, but like…he is. Just look at him!”

“That’s offensive,” Aida sniffs. “You can’t tell anyone’s sexuality by looking at them!”

“Sometimes you can.”

“Yeah, some people are just so straight, you know?”

“Ugh, whatever,” Aida says, sliding down further into her chair. “No one understands the depth of my despair.”

“Penny told me that she doesn’t even think Mr. Murdock’s met Mr. Nelson’s partner.”

“That’s crazy! Even if they’re not dating, they’re like besties, right?”

“Maybe it’s just at work,” Courtney says. “Maybe they’re indifferent to each other in real life.”

“I guess I just always imagined like, even if they were dating other people, they still like hung out together outside of school, you know?”

Bridgit snorts. “If I was dating a guy and he was that close to his co-worker, I don’t think I’d want them hanging out outside of school, to be honest.”

Aida gasps. “God, you’re so right. Their partners must be so jealous!”

Next to her, Courtney sighs in frustration. “I feel like you almost learned a lesson about not getting too obsessed with other people’s personal lives there and then you went right back to making shit up again.”

“What? I was just saying, hypothetically, if they are dating other people, it must be weird!”

“Yeah, okay. I need help with my Calc homework, if you’re done being creepy about the faculty here.”

The conversation obviously loses Sam’s interest there, but he spends the rest of the day thinking about it, formulating a plan that he can only call, well, evil.

“I have a really, really stupid idea,” he says to Bucky later, while he’s grading papers on the couch and Bucky is frowning at the saucepan he’s got on the stove. “And I need you to talk me out of it.”

Bucky looks up at that to frown at Sam instead. Luckily, frowning at things is kind of Bucky’s love language, so Sam isn’t worried.

“When have I ever successfully talked you out of anything, Sam?” he asks, amusement peaking through in his tone and the way he tilts his head. “I don’t think I’m the man for the job.”

Sam sighs and tells him the whole study hall gossip saga anyway, which just ends with Bucky looking even more confused and concerned.

“God,” he says, rubbing his forehead, “you don’t think they talk about us like that, do you?”

“Oh, I’m sure they say worse about us,” Sam replies, feeling both pity for Bucky’s poor nerves and amusement at his innocence. “I’m sure they say worse about Matt and Foggy, honestly. This was probably on the tame end.”

Bucky considers this for a moment. “You know, I’ve heard students talking about Matt having a girlfriend before, or a wife or whatever, and how she must hate how close he is with Foggy. I didn’t know this was a thing, though. I just thought it was two students being crazy, you know?”

“Oh, no. There’s lore. And it’s been getting more intense since Foggy came back from break with a wedding ring. The kids have been going bonkers over it. They’re convinced there’s some mystery afoot.”

Bucky shakes his head. “We might need to give them more homework, if they have the time to come up with this stuff.”

Sam stifles a laugh at that. “Or at least a unit on creative writing so they can get this kind of thing out of their systems.”

“These are all good ideas, though,” Bucky says, with a small smile. “So I don’t understand what your bad one is. You want me to talk you out of giving these kids detention? Or telling Foggy what you overheard?”

“God, no! Nothing that sensible. I told you it was a stupid idea, Buck. Remember?”

“It’s apparently so stupid that I can’t even conceive of it, based on what I know now.”

“I want to fan the flames a little,” Sam admits, only slightly embarrassed to own up to such a thing in front of his boyfriend.

“Fan the flames…how exactly?”

“Listen,” Sam sighs, as he pushes himself up to a seated position, “I know I’m supposed to be a grown up about this stuff, but Foggy gave me so much shit when you and I were…”

“Dancing around each other for the better part of a year?” Bucky suggests, with a smile.

“I was going to say ‘figuring our stuff out’, but sure, that works too,” Sam says. “I just want to give him a little grief back.”

“You still haven’t told me your plan, you know,” Bucky says, knowingly.

“I—” Sam starts to say and then pauses. “I just want to remind you, before I explain this, that you love me and you think I’m a cool, mature person most of the time.”

“Well, half of that’s true.”

Sam narrows his eyes at him. “It better be the first half!”

Bucky smiles. “It is. Proceed.”

Once Sam is done explaining the plan, he fully expects to see Bucky standing there, hands on his hips, frowning in a classic disappointed dad pose. Sam also expects that will be all it takes to talk him out of this, that another adult’s disapproval is all he needs to act like an adult himself. What he’s not expecting is for Bucky to open and close his mouth a few times and clearly struggle with what to say first. Sam’s at the point of formulating an apology and maybe, you know, fleeing the country in embarrassment, when Bucky finally speaks up.

“I don’t know how to say this right, Sam, like in a way that conveys the depths of my love and admiration for you, but I guess…do you want my credit card?”

Sam beams, and does not tell Bucky to return anything he’s bought for him in preparation for Valentine’s Day because this is all he’ll ever need, but he does think it. He thinks it very much.

Sam wishes he could say that his own childish antics didn’t fully distract him when Valentine’s Day comes around, but he’d definitely be lying. He’s giddy to the point of antsy to hear what happens, as a matter of fact, and, luckily for him, he has study hall on the day in question. He trusts the students who started this all will be able to give him some updates, at the very least.

Aida doesn’t disappoint. She sprints into Sam’s classroom just as the bell is ringing, towing Bridgit behind her, and basically Tokyo drifts into her seat next to Courtney.

“Oh my GOD,” she whisper-shouts while trying to catch her breath. “You will not believe what Bridgit and I just heard!”

“What is it?” Courtney asks, not sounding that intrigued despite the theatrics.

“Mr. Nelson’s spouse sent him this huge bouquet of roses—”

“Like freaking enormous,” Bridgit interjects.

“Yeah, like, whatever you’re thinking of for a massive bouquet of roses, think bigger,” Aida says. “Anyway, he got this ridiculous floral arrangement delivered to the school and it took up, like, his whole desk and everyone in the office is giving him such a hard time about it, because it’s just so much, and now he’s giving away roses to everyone!”

“Ew, he gave you a rose?” Courtney asks, horrified.

“No, not students,” Aida replies, affronted. “He’s giving them to the staff and stuff. Although I heard there’s a small arrangement of them at the front desk and they were letting students take from there, if they wanted. But I only know about it because Nurse Palmer had like four of them in a little cup in her office when I went to see her.”

“Oh my god, why were you at the nurse?!”

“She got smacked in the head with a volleyball in gym,” Bridgit supplies. “Again.”

“My peripheral vision sucks, okay? I don’t want to talk about it!”

“Fine. Why is Mr. Nelson giving away the flowers? Won’t his partner be mad?”

“Nurse Palmer told me that he can’t bring the flowers home because he said his cat would just attack them and make a mess.”

“Aren’t roses toxic to cats?”

“No, that’s lilies,” Bridgit says, wisely.

“Still,” Courtney says, scandalized, “I feel like his partner would know that! Why would they send him flowers he can’t bring home?”

“I don’t know,” Aida replies, smugly. “Maybe they just wanted to remind a certain co-worker of his that he’s taken…”

“Oh my god! Not this again!”

“Well! It’s like you said, his partner would know that their cat would destroy the flowers! So, clearly, the flowers were never meant to make it home! It was obviously all for show!”

“Sending your partner flowers to their place of work always is,” Courtney says, darkly.

“So petty,” Bridgit agrees.

“I like flowers,” Aida objects, pulling a notebook out of her backpack hesitantly.

“There’s nothing wrong with flowers! It’s the method of delivery that I find tacky.”

“Yeah, that’s true, I guess.”

“How did Mr. Murdock take it?”

“I don’t know,” Aida says. “I haven’t been to the office today.”

“I think my lab partner Gabe has a meeting with him this afternoon,” Bridgit adds. “I should tell him to snoop.”

“Oh my god,” Aida coos, delightedly.

“You’re both maniacs,” Courtney says.

“Oh, yeah, like you’re not a little curious! Be for real!”

“I’m not! I don’t care about this at all!”

“Okay, so if Gabe finds out anything, I shouldn’t tell you?”

There’s a meaningful pause while Sam is turned away, pretending to look through his file cabinet. “I mean, obviously you should tell me,” Courtney grumbles. “But only because I like to be included.”

“Right, of course,” Aida says.

Sam finishes with the pretend business he had with the filing cabinet and turns back towards his desk. “Hey, Courtney,” he says, feigning casualness. “You got that big game against Horizons this week, right?”

“Yeah, it’s Friday, Mr. Wilson,” she replies.

“How’s the team feeling?”

“Okay,” she says. “I think we’re ready but, you know, they’re having a good season, so…could go either way.”

“I hear ya,” he says, settling back down at his desk. “Well, good luck!”

“Thanks!”

“Mr. Wilson, have you been by the main office today?” Aida asks, sweetly, and if he hadn’t been anticipating it, he might have missed the wide-eyed look Bridgit shoots her immediately afterwards, but he doesn’t. He does catch it, though, and enjoys it immensely.

“Not since first thing this morning when I came in,” Sam replies, innocently. “Why?”

“I heard they’re giving out roses.”

Sam schools his features into a mildly perplexed look. “Roses? Why?”

“I don’t know,” Aida says. “One of the teachers or someone got a bouquet delivered for Valentine’s Day or something?”

“Huh,” Sam replies, channeling his inner Angela Bassett and turning in what he hopes is an Oscar-worthy performance. “You know, maybe it’s just me, but I’ve always thought sending someone flowers at their place of work for Valentine’s Day is a little…much.”

“Totally,” Bridgit agrees.

“I was just saying,” Courtney adds, pleased.

“Are you doing anything special for the holiday, Mr. Wilson?” Aida asks, matching Sam’s faux-innocence with some of her own.

“Besides spending my day with the best students in the world, you mean?” he asks, all charm.

“Yeah,” Aida says, with a discreet eye roll in her friends’ direction. “I meant besides that.”

“Nothing much, really. I’ll probably go get a rose from the main office, though, since you gave me the tip on that and since no one bothered to send me any flowers at work.”

The girls all exchange an unimpressed look at that, which mostly tells him that they save gossiping about his personal life for when they are, mercifully, not in his classroom. All things considered, he appreciates the restraint.

Sam is still cleaning what remains of his last class’s lesson off the whiteboard (because several students lingered behind to ask him questions about their assignments that he definitely answered in the handout for it that he gave them already) when he hears a knock on the doorframe of his classroom. He turns to find Foggy leaning there with a single red rose in his hand.

“Hey there, Romeo,” Sam calls. “How can I help you?”

“Sam Wilson,” Foggy says, too earnestly, as he approaches, “will you accept this rose?”

“Oh, thank God,” Sam replies, as he reaches out to take it. “I was dreading having to debrief with Chris Harrison after this, if you didn’t pick me.”

“How could I not? After all, I believe I have you to thank for making today one of the weirdest days of my life.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sam says, twirling the stem between his fingers.

“Really? You mean to tell me you’re not responsible for sending me a frankly absurd amount of roses with a note that implied I’d always be your sugar plum?”

“The note was meant to say outright that you’d always be my sugar plum, Foggy. I hope the kid at the flower shop accurately captured my vision. I certainly paid enough for it!”

Foggy shakes his head, smiling. “I still don’t know what you were up to with this, Sam, but it must have cost you a fortune.”

“Well, I figured that your no-good husband would never shower you with lavish gifts at work and I thought you deserved something nice.”

“Listen, I know I’ve been upping my skincare game lately, but I don’t think I look good enough to pass for having been born yesterday,” Foggy says. “What’s your angle?”

“I still can’t believe you knew it was me.”

“It has the trademark Sam Wilson charm all over it.”

Sam smiles and leans against the edge of his desk. “I didn’t really embarrass you that bad, did I?”

“Only a little,” Foggy replies. “I assume I did something to deserve it.”

“Yeah, you made the mistake of befriending me in grad school and staying in contact ever since.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s a rookie move, for sure.”

“And you didn’t invite me to your wedding.”

“No one was invited to my wedding! We got married at City Hall!”

“A likely story.”

“If you’re really upset about that, you’re going to have to get in line,” Foggy says. “My mom is definitely more annoyed at me than you are.”

“It wasn’t that, don’t worry. The kids in my study hall were just gossiping again,” Sam adds, finally dropping the bit. “About how Matt’s girlfriend and your partner are probably jealous of your bromance.”

“God, these kids,” Foggy laughs, shaking his head. “Couldn't you assign them more homework or something?”

“Bucky and I are on it.”

“Thanks.”

“Some of it’s on you for just showing up for the new semester with a wedding ring and no explanation, you know.”

Foggy sighs. “I know, but it’s always weird finding the line with students. I don’t care what they know about my personal life, but I don’t want to find out I overshared when it’s too late and I’ve got some upset parent emailing me about how I’m setting a bad example for their kid by implying I date sometimes.”

“Well, your dating days are done, at least,” Sam says, sympathetically.

“Yes, but my gay marriage days are just beginning, which is a whole new can of worms.”

“True enough,” Sam replies. “Hey, if you learn anything about navigating this kind of thing, be sure to report back to the rest of us.”

“Why is that, Sam? You got gay marriage on your mind for some reason?”

Sam feels his face heat. “Shut up,” he says. “This whole situation today was supposed to give me a reprieve from you being smug about my love life for once.”

“There’s nothing on earth that could stop me being smug about that, sweetheart, but I applaud you for trying.”

“Applaud Bucky too,” Sam replies. “He footed the bill for this overture.”

“Did he?” Foggy asks, sounding reluctantly impressed. “Well, I hope you two weren’t saving up for anything important, because these flowers probably bankrupted him.”

“We’ll manage. Consider it a wedding present from us.”

Foggy nods, absently. “You know, speaking of Bucky…sorry, I actually don’t know the right way to say this…”

Sam feels himself tense. Even though he trusts Bucky completely and is happier with him than he can remember being with anyone else, the look on Foggy’s face is giving him pause. What if Foggy’s about to say he’s never actually liked Bucky? What if something happened to him and Sam somehow hadn’t heard? That seems pretty unlikely, but it’s not like Foggy to be cagey about anything.

“What is it?” Sam asks, pretending as hard as he can to be normal.

“It’s just—and maybe this isn’t my place to say, but—I just think, if Bucky’s not meeting your needs and you feel the need to act out like this, well, I have to say something—”

Sam sputters as he tries not to laugh and fails miserably. “Goddammit, Foggy!”

“I’m just saying, if you’re not feeling satisfied, I’d be happy to take him aside and give him a few pointers, you know, maybe point out a few erogenous zones he’s never heard of…”

“That won’t be necessary,” Sam replies, getting himself under control.

“I know it would be an awkward conversation,” Foggy says, hand to heart, “but you’re my friend and I’d do it for your sake.”

“Thanks, man. That’s really too kind of you. But why don’t you save that mojo for your husband?”

“Well, not to brag, but I’m doing well enough in that department that he doesn’t feel the need to send people prank bouquets just to start rumors about them.”

“I bet he wouldn’t even be able to find the time to think of it honestly.”

“Nope,” Foggy replies. “He’s far too sexually satisfied for such puerile pranks.”

Sam snorts. “I’m also perfectly satisfied, thank you!”

“If you say so.”

“I do,” Sam says, just as another knock sounds on his door. “Come in!”

“Hey, Sam,” Matt says, as he enters. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“No worries. Foggy was just insulting my boyfriend’s lovemaking skills.”

“Sounds about right,” Matt replies, coming to stand next to Foggy. “You ready to head out?”

“If you are,” Foggy says, and Matt inclines his head. “Thanks again for all the unnecessary drama, Sam.”

“You’re so welcome, Foggy. Happy Valentine’s Day to you and your mysterious, jealous partner and to Matt’s beautiful, blonde girlfriend.”

Matt’s eyebrows draw together in confusion. “My what?”

“Some woman a couple of students saw you with at a Nationals game, apparently,” Sam says. “I didn’t even know you liked baseball.”

“I can take it or leave it, honestly,” Matt says, “but Karen loves it, so we went to a game when she was in town.”

“Oh, okay,” Foggy says, comprehension dawning. “I heard that one too and I could not for the life of me figure out who they were talking about.”

“You were at that conference and your flight home got delayed,” Matt supplies.

“Right. Lucky me.”

“You fared better than the Nationals did, at least,” Matt says.

“Though, that’s not a high bar to clear,” Sam adds.

Matt acknowledges that with a tilt of his head. “True enough,” he says. “That’s really where that rumor came from?”

“Apparently. Unless you’ve been cavorting around town with multiple beautiful, blonde women.”

“Not that I know of,” Matt says. “Though, you’re blond, right, Foggy?”

“Yes, and in the right light, I can be mistaken for a beautiful woman.”

“I can’t tell if that’s the sort of comment I should agree or disagree with to avoid insulting you.”

“And they say keeping the mystery alive in your marriage is difficult,” Foggy replies, with an arch look in Sam’s direction.

“Hey, is that why Matt refuses to wear his ring at school?” Sam asks. “Just to keep everyone guessing? Or is it something like how some couples will pretend not to know each other at parties and pick each other up as if they’re strangers?”

“Sure, let’s go with that and not the fact that Matt keeps conveniently forgetting to get his ring resized.”

Matt frowns. “I resent the implication that I’m deliberately avoiding it for no apparent reason.”

“Matt, it’s been like two months!”

“And I’m very easily distracted!”

Foggy sighs. “You see what I have to deal with?”

“This is why I sent you flowers,” Sam replies. “To remind you that you have options.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Matt says, darkly. “I’ll get the ring re-sized this weekend, I promise.”

“Well, actually, you might do better to wait,” Sam says. “Just think of how many idiot boyfriends are going to propose tonight without checking their girlfriend’s ring size beforehand. Jewelers are going to be busy for a few weeks from that alone.”

“That’s a good point,” Matt replies, thoughtfully.

“Why are you discouraging him?” Foggy asks, desperately. “Haven’t you interfered in my relationship enough for one day?”

“Foggy, you and Matt could get matching neon signs installed over your heads that say ‘happily married’ and the students would still think you’re seeing other people. A wedding ring on Matt’s finger is not going to do the trick.”

“Yeah, you’re right. In fact, it’s almost like I don’t care at all what the students say about my love life. I’d just like the man I love to wear the damn ring I bought him.”

“It’s actually because he wants other people to stop hitting on me at the grocery store when he’s like two feet away,” Matt says, leaning into Foggy’s side in an obvious bid for attention, which Foggy immediately indulges by putting his arm around Matt’s shoulders.

Sam snorts and then feels bad about it. “Does that happen a lot?”

“Let’s just say I mostly go grocery shopping by myself these days,” Foggy says. “The masses cannot be trusted around Matt and his beautiful face.”

“You’re a brave man, Foggy Nelson.”

“For what? Going grocery shopping alone? Or being in love with Matt?”

“Both,” Sam replies.

“The dangers of marrying up,” Foggy says, and Matt elbows him immediately for it. “Someone ought to warn Bucky.”

“Hey now,” Sam warns, but he ruins the effect by laughing. “Bucky’s very handsome.”

“And you’re stunning! You’re a literal earth angel, Sam! They wrote that song about you!”

“Damn, if I’d known all it took to get these kinds of compliments from you was a floral arrangement, I’d have splurged years ago.”

“Sure, I go to one baseball game with a female friend and the rumor that I have a girlfriend persists for a year,” Matt says, grouchily, “but you guys talk like this all the time to each other and there’s no rumors about you two dating.”

“That’s true,” Sam concedes. “It is kind of weird, now that you mention it.”

“It’s because there’s no drama there,” Foggy says. “Sam and Bucky get rumors because there’s tension. They’re in the same department. You and me get rumors because there’s the potential for scandal. Me and Sam, our relationship is too pure to speculate about.”

“Too pure? Did I not just walk in on you offering to give his boyfriend sex tips a few minutes ago?”

“Yes, you did,” Foggy says, unapologetic. “And I stand by that offer, by the way. It could help!”

“No, thank you,” Sam replies, firmly. “As I said, save that energy for Matt.”

“Yeah, save that energy for me,” Matt says, giving Foggy a significant look. “And don’t think I missed that ‘marrying up’ comment a while back. I heard it and we’re going to discuss it in the car.”

Foggy sighs. “This is what I get for marrying a guidance counselor.”

Sam smiles at him. “Good thing you love him, huh?”

“A very good thing,” Foggy says. “Otherwise these persistent rumors about how he’s got a beautiful model girlfriend at home because he’s so straight would really get me down.”

“A beautiful model girlfriend who’s insanely threatened by his relationship to you, though.”

“Good point.”

“Well, I hope you and Bucky didn’t spend all your money on flowers for my husband,” Matt says. “That would make your own Valentine’s Day plans pretty bleak.”

Sam laughs. “We’re not literally bankrupt, don’t worry.”

“Just morally, then,” Foggy replies.

“Yeah. And my only regret is that you couldn’t even take the flowers home. Seems a waste. Ziggy would really go after them?”

“Oh, Ziggy would take any flowers or plants in the apartment as an act of warfare,” Foggy says.

“We tried to bring home a fern once,” Matt adds, looking haunted. “Didn’t survive the night.”

“He still hasn’t forgiven me for bringing Matt home,” Foggy says, shaking his head.

“My bad,” Sam says, considering the rose in his hand and thinking how Alpine would feel about it. After a moment of consideration, he realizes he’s getting a little ahead of himself and banishes the thought to the back of his mind.

“Honestly, it might have been more fun distributing them to everyone here than it would have been to just keep them at our house,” Foggy says, with a shrug. “Really got me in the spirit.”

“You’re welcome, then.”

“I still don’t know if I’d go so far as to thank you for it.”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Sam replies. “I was talking to Matt.”

“I’m welcome?” Matt asks, perplexed. “For what, exactly?”

“Getting your husband in the Valentine’s Day spirit,” Sam says, with a wink.

“Sam just winked at you,” Foggy adds, for Matt’s benefit.

“Makes sense.”

“I believe he’s trying to imply that any sex we’ll be having tonight is his doing.”

“I’m following, Foggy. Thank you.”

“Little does he know—”

“We really should be going,” Matt says, grabbing Foggy by the arm. “Have a good night, Sam.”

“And remember: my offer to give Bucky some pointers is always open,” Foggy calls over his shoulder as Matt drags him bodily from the room.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam says, waving them both off.

Once they’re gone, he focuses his attention back on cleaning up his classroom and getting his things together, which takes only a few more minutes. When that’s done, he shuts off the lights and closes the door behind him before making his way down the hallway to Bucky’s classroom.

Pausing in the doorway, he sees Bucky glaring at something on his laptop screen, which probably means he got a parent email right as he was trying to wrap up for the day and it fully derailed his routine. Sam knocks on the doorframe twice with no response before letting himself in. Once he’s standing next to Bucky’s desk, still without being noticed, he pokes him in the shoulder to get his attention.

Bucky does a comical double take, as if he can’t believe Sam is actually there, and then very clearly takes in the time on the clock on the wall and realizes how long he’s been distracted. Then, he notices the rose in Sam’s hand.

“Don’t tell me I have a rival for your affections,” he jokes, even as the scowl doesn’t fully disappear from his face.

“Of course not,” Sam smiles. “This is for you.”

“Really?”

“Yep. The last remains of our little Valentine’s Day gift to Foggy.”

“Oh,” Bucky replies, taking the rose gingerly from Sam’s outstretched hand. “Thanks.”

“Thank you,” Sam says, grandly, trying to put his dumb feelings into nice words. “There’s, uh, nobody I’d rather do stupid, immature shit with than you.”

Bucky puts a hand to his chest. “Honestly, Sam, if you make me cry at work…”

“That will be on you for still being at work at this hour.”

“You’re still here too!”

“Waiting for you,” Sam fires back. “And on Valentine’s Day, no less!”

Bucky sighs, but closes his laptop anyway. “Alright, you win. This will keep. Let’s go home.”

“At last he sees sense!”

Bucky stands up and starts packing his things into his bag. “Did Foggy enjoy the flowers, at least?”

“Apparently, he got a lot of shit from the faculty for being the recipient of such an obvious and desperate romantic gesture. And our efforts were aided by Ziggy, who apparently doesn’t tolerate any plants in the house, which means Foggy had to give away the flowers and it only added to the supposed drama according to the students.”

“What a tangled web,” Bucky replies, shaking his head as he throws on his jacket.

“He said to thank you for the mild humiliation and the bankruptcy you risked to achieve it,” Sam says, and leaves out the other stuff Foggy said about Bucky for now. That’s more of an ‘at home’ conversation.

“Oh, I’m always happy to torment people with you, Sam. It was truly my pleasure!”

“Well, the feeling is mutual.”

Bucky pauses as he’s hoisting his backpack onto his shoulder, looking serious again. “I mean it, you know. What you said before, about how there’s no one you’d rather do stupid stuff with…?”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“There’s no one I’d rather do anything with than you,” Bucky says, earnestly. “I hope you know that.”

Sam smiles, even though the feeling swirling in his chest right now is not precisely happy or amused, but rather everything mixed together. Happy and amused and overwhelmed and confused and delighted and scared and…well, everything.

“Now who’s trying to make someone cry at work?” he asks, rather than admit to any of that. Yet another ‘at home’ conversation.

“You’re right,” Bucky acquiesces, with a small smile. “Let’s get out of here, so we can cry as much as we want.”

“Romantic,” Sam quips, barely holding back his own smile or the still very possible tears. “Home, then?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, looking right at him. “Home.”

#lmao I don’t know WHAT this is #it got very out of hand #I hope you like it Zainab!!!#happy valentines/galentines/friendiversary!! I love you!!!!!!!!!#here’s a fic about all our boys being weird antagonistic best friends in a school #homelywenchsociety #that’s my writing tag! don’t worry about it!#sambucky #mattfoggy #sam wilson #bucky barnes #foggy nelson #matt murdock #sambucky and co teachers au #a fic for an audience of one but I simply had to!!! 💕💕💕💕💕

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peterman-spideyparker · 1 year

Text

Santa, Baby (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Sooooooooo this fic was supposed to come on December 23, but I procrastinated with it and didn’t end up finishing it until yesterday, and I don’t want to wait until next year to post because I’d put money on it that I’d forget. And it’s still December, so it counts. Enjoy :)

Summary: You want to do something on the sexier side to surprise Matt at Christmastime, but you don’t know how he’d take it. When Matt takes an unexpected night off from vigilantism, you put your plan into motion.

Warnings: Fluff (established couple, soft domestic sweetness, kisses), smut (holiday themed sexy outfits, oral - m and f receiving, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie), swearing

Other Characters: Karen Page (Karen x Frank)

Word Count: 3,809

“Hey,” you say with a smile as you open the door, the office of Nelson, Murdock, and Page on the air of the quiet side of things for what you know has been a busy week for the trio.

“Angel, what are you doing here?” Matt smiles, taking a few steps forward from Karen’s desk to meet you in the middle of the reception area.

“I cut work early to run some errands and I was passing by, so I thought I’d pop up,” you hum, placing a quick, sweet kiss on his lips.

“Well, I don’t want to be a bummer, but I gotta go to court soon for a discovery hearing.”

“It’s okay, Matt. I actually came here to ask Karen a question.”

Surprised little “oh”s escape both of their lips, turning toward one another one shock.

“I guess I’ll leave you to it. See you at home, sweetheart.”

“Bye, Matty. You’ll do great,” you say with a kiss to his cheek, waiting as he grabs his jacket and makes it out of the office.

“So what’s up?” Karen asks with a smile as she sits on her desk, and you move to match her body language.

“Well, I had an idea, but I don’t know if I should see it through,” you explain. “See, I wanted to do something for Matt for Christmas, but I don’t know if he’d get his knickers in a twist. I mean, I already got his present—which has been hell to hide from Mr. Super Senses—but I want to do a little something more for him.”

“Like what?”

You feel your cheeks burn hot, suddenly a little embarrassed. You don’t know why you are—you’ve talked to Karen about this kind of stuff plenty of times before, and she has to you. You just have that kind of bond and friendship.

“Well, there was a really cute Santa babydoll dress that I was thinking of getting, but I don’t know if that’d be weird for Matt—making Christmas sexy like that.”

“He’s never hinted around anything in that sphere?”

“Nope.”

“Well, I guess I can understand where that might be an odd thing on different fronts. Making something that shouldn’t be sexy sexy, and then the religious element.”

“So it’s a bad idea then, huh?”

“Maybe that one specifically, but I’m sure there’s another. It’s fun to do sexy holiday things like that. Frank and I love doing them.”

“You do?” you smirk.

“That’s a story for another time with lots of wine,” she laughs. “But I’d look for other options, you know? If anything, Christmas and Valentine’s Day are perfect for something like that because of the softer fabrics, and I know Matt has a thing about that. Just poke around. I can even go shopping with you, if you want.”

“I’ll browse, and if I can’t find anything, we can look together. I’m assuming you’re trying to do something with Frank?”

She blushes deeply. “Yeah. But he doesn’t have a thing too much about Santa, so maybe send me the link for that babydoll?”

You laugh loudly in the quiet office. “Sure thing, Kare.”

As you dry the dishes from dinner, you feel Matt slip his arms around your middle, pressing you flush against his back and holding you close, his chin on your shoulder as he nuzzles into your neck.

“I think I’m gonna stay in tonight,” Matt whispers against your skin. “It’s chilly out.”

“The Devil is scared of a little wind chill?” you smile, trying and failing to turn around in Matt’s grip from behind.

“He likes it a little warmer.“

“Poor thing,” you pout, craning your head to the side, giving him a kiss on the side of the nose. “You’d never survive New England winters.”

“Good thing we live in the best city in the world.”

“You know what I think?”

“Lay it on me, sweetheart.”

“I think my big strong devil is a snuggly, needy, softy. In all the best ways.”

“Me? Needy?”

“We’re all a bit needy, Matty. You, for example, need me.”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” he smiles, letting you turn around in his grip, holding the side of his face and kissing him properly.

“Well, I need you, too, so we’re perfect for one another. And, you’re my human radiator. Blankets don’t stand a chance against my man.”

“Can I get that in writing?” he smiles, his hands on your waist spinning you around to he can give you a kiss.

“Sure thing, baby,” you mutter against his lips.

“Let me put these away.”

“Dish duty is on me tonight. Don’t mess with the system, Matty.”

“Can the system go out the window for one night?”

“My creature of habit wanting to throw routine out of the window?”

“C’mon, angel.”

You lean forward once more, your lips meeting softly once more as you moan into the kiss.

“Okay,” you whisper, running your hands down his arms, moving from between the kitchen counter and his body and onto the couch.

Grabbing your laptop off of the coffee table, you whip it open and weed through your emails, deleting the copious and redundant notifications from different stores regarding sales, special memberships, and the like. Shortly after, Matt makes his way from the kitchen to the seat next to you, returning your computer to where you initially picked it up before he slides you into his lap.

“Hi sweetheart,” he whispers, placing a kiss on your neck.

“Hi Matty,” you hum, snuggling into him. “What do you want to do tonight?”

“What do you want to do? We can pop in a movie, play a game—.”

“You didn’t bring any work home?” you ask, surprised that’s night is completely free—including his Deviling duties.

“Not tonight. I wanted to focus just on you tonight.”

“Mm, that’s sweet.”

“What do you have in mind for tonight, angel?”

You let out a sigh as you rest your head on his shoulder, thinking about the different cozy home activities you could do together when a thought crosses your mind.

“I guess tonight is a good of night as ever,“ you hum.

“Angel?”

“I have an idea, but it’s a surprise.”

“You’ve managed to keep a surprise a secret?”

“Rude,” you chuckle, kissing his cheek as you move to turn and straddle his lap. “You stay right there, Mr. Murdock. And you swear to me on my boobs that you won’t use your senses to try and ruin my surprise.”

“You want me to swear on your boobs?”

“You know you love them. Swear on their softness that you won’t spoil the surprise.”

With a cheeky smirk, he spreads his large hands against your waist.

“I swear I won’t—,” he says into your right boob through your sweater with a kiss, mirroring the action on the other breast, “—ruin your surprise.”

“Thank you,” you hum, running your fingers through his hair, kissing his forehead before you get up, moving to the bedroom and closing the sliding door. Moving to your side of the bed, you pull out a box from underneath mattress, moving to slide on the satin bra and panty set you got from a local boutique. With the bra straps on properly, you tie the long satin tails that act as cups into a nice big bow, mimicking the motion for the ties that are on the hips of the matching panties. Whipping your head up and down to revitalize your hair from the day, you take a deep breath before you open the door, expecting to see Matt on the sofa.

“Matt?” you call as you move into the living space, looking around as you try to find where your boyfriend disappeared to into the apartment. “Matt, where ar—?”

“I need you to help me figure something out, sweetheart. Were you naughty or nice this year?”

Turning around in the dark apartment, your eyes finally focus at the top of the roof access staircase. In all his glory, Matt leans with a smirk against the old brick, bare chested with Santa pants of all things hanging low on his hips, the suspenders on the waist leaning haphazardly down, while a red fuzzy hat sits on his head.

“Your heart rate is telling me you might have made the naughty list this year, angel,” he says as his smirks grows, slowly descending the steps.

“N-No,” you stutter. “I’m just . . . Surprised by the outfit.”

“Why?”

The incoherent stutters that fall from your lips only make Matt laugh as he makes his way over to you, resting his hands on your waist and pulling you in for a kiss before resting his forehead on yours.

“Too much?” he whispers, his thumbs moving back and forth on your skin.

“No, not at all,” you tell him. “Like I said, I’m just surprised.”

“Why?” he tries again.

“I didn’t know how you’d be about sexy Santa. Actually, I didn’t know how you’d feel about making anything Christmas related sexy.”

“Well, it’s a little odd. The pants are really nice and soft, though. And, the way I look at it, we’re not making the root of Christmas sexy, just a commercial element sexy. Now, let Santa unwrap his gift,” he whispers, his voice at a dangerously rich and gravely timbre, his hands slipping down over the globes of your ass, squeezing the exposed flesh.

“Mm, but I thought patience helps you get on the nice list?” you hum as you begin to place slow kisses onto his chest, pulling him by his dangling suspenders to keep him close as you step back toward the bedroom. “Patience is a virtue, after all.”

“Virtue, suggestion,” he chuckles, moving his hands up to the side of your face to kiss you. “Please?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” you smile against his lips as he lies you down on the mattress, pillows at your head. “Open me up, Matty.”

“Mm, thank you, sweetheart,” he hums, his large hands gliding across the surface of your thighs and spreading you open, allowing him to get closer into your body. As his hands move up, his thumbs swipe against the satin of my bra. “It’s such a pretty bow. Hate to ruin it.”

“I can guarantee you, the things underneath it are prettier and softer.”

Matt lets out a soft “Ah”, his smile growing wide on his tender expression before he kisses you, pressing soft embraces down from your lips to your neck, and finally to your chest before his teeth take hold of the ribbon’s tail and gently tug it undone. You let out a little gasp, partially from the cool air of the loft, partially from the way the satin drags along the sensitive skin. Instead of using his hands like you expect, Matt nuzzles his nose against the fleshy mounds, placing little kisses all over the supple skin. You moan softly as he embraces your breasts, leaving no centimeter of the skin untouched, his lips desperately chasing the fatty flesh as it moves around. You gasp when you feel his large, calloused fingers graze the side of your breast as his mouth catches the other one between his lips, sucking at the nipple.

“So good, Matty,” you whine, the hot breath through his nose fanning over your chest as he opens his eyes and tilts his head up, working to lock eyes with yours. The Santa hat remains on his head, but only slightly. “Baby . . .”

Matt slowly pulls off of your nipple, moving to leave wet kisses all over the rest of your chest and up your neck.

“Can I unwrap the rest of my gift, angel?” he gravels, his beard scratching against your skin.

“Of course, Matty. But there’s something I’d like to do first?”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you switch your positions on the mattress, letting the bra slide down your arms and off of your body. As you flick it to the side, you move down Matt’s body, grazing your fingertips along his pants, slowly moving to peel them off of his body. He lifts his hips up in an effort to help, letting you slide the velvety fabric off so it can join your bra on the floor. But before you can bend down and take hold of Matt’s rock-hard cock, he stops you.

“Hold on, angel,” Matt hushes. Your eyebrows pull together in confusion as he twists to the side and rummages through his bedside drawer. When he lays his back back down, you have to work not to laugh at the sight before your eyes.

“You are a stupendous dork,” you laugh, your smile so bright it lessens your view of him.

“What? It’s Christmas rules—kiss what’s under the mistletoe,” he smirks as he dangles a fake sprig of the weed over his semi-hard cock.

“Well, I can’t upset Christmas rules,” you chuckle, kissing his tip and all the way down to the base, repeating the motions all over his length. Somewhere in your process, the mistletoe doesn’t get held as high before it’s eventually on the ground with out other pieces of clothes.

“(Y/N),” he breathes.

“Yeah, Matty?” you murmur against his base by the patch of small, dark curls on his skin. “Can I suck you off, Matty? There’s no more mistletoe.”

“I need your lips around me, angel. Please.”

With a long lick, you bring your lips back up to the tip and slowly take him in your mouth, having to be conscious of his girth. Each bob of my head brings you down a bit farther on his length until you’re roughly an inch and a half shy of taking him all the way.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so good,” he praises as he gathers up your hair, making sure you don’t swallow any of your locks as you go up and down. “So good for me, angel.”

The head of his cock his the soft flesh of the back of your throat, coating it with his salty precum, the movements only making you gag slightly. He helps you create opportunities to readjust as you go down on him, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable as you work. As you breathe through your nose, you bring your hands down to fondle Matt’s heavy sack, making sure he’s thoroughly taken care of. Between your hand and your mouth, you can feel every last ridge and vein that will bring Matt pleasure, and you briefly wonder if this is even a fraction of what Matt feels—being able to sense every last thing around him. Maybe you just know his body well enough. Whatever it may be, Matt guides you up and off of him by your hair, allowing a long line of saliva to connect from his dick to your chin. He pulls you into a a deep kiss, the embrace wet, needy, and sloppy with passion. As you straddle his waist while out tongues go back and forth, you can’t help but grind into his gorgeously defined muscles, spreading the slick pooling in your satin panties all over the fabric. Matt’s hands slide down to the globes of your ass, squeezing the flesh before giving both cheeks a firm smack, the sound echoing in the spacious bedroom as the sting spreads across your skin. You bite down on his lip as you kiss as response, which only makes Matt moan into your mouth, repeating the movement with his hands once more before he leans forward, your back returning to the mattress while his hands slide around to spread your legs wide.

“Do you want me to eat with your panties on, angel?” he teases as he kisses and marks up your inner thighs. “Would you like that, angel? Or do you want my mouth on your pussy and my fingers in you?”

“It wouldn’t be much of a present if you didn’t unwrap the rest of it,” you hum, biting your bottom lip as you watch him worship your inner thighs.

Dragging his fingertips up the sides of your legs, he finds the bows and pulls them undone, his hands sliding your hips up so you’re slightly off of the mattress. He grasps your panties with his teeth and slides it away from your body, only briefly removing his hands from your legs to take the fabric and throw it aside. His large, calloused digits are quick to move back between your legs, two of his fingers grazing and expertly parting your soaked lips. Matt brings his mouth close to your core, enough for you to practically feel his lips on you, only for him to hover just far enough away from you. He lets out a shallow breath from his mouth, pulling a sound that is part wanton moan, part erotic pornography sounds from you, as he coats your heat with his. When he is satisfied with his work, his lips wrap right around your swollen clit, gently sucking as his tongue slips in every now and then while he works.

“Fuck,” you choke out as he devours you, his beard tickling and scratching at your thighs. “Matthew!”

He just hums into you, sliding two fingers into your core while his other hand wraps around your hips to keep you down as your body begins to writhe and buck uncontrollably. He moans into your dripping cunt, which only makes you cry out into the room louder. Matt moves his tongue and mouth faster while his fingers tickle and scratch your inner spongy walls as his mouth rips a violent orgasm from you. You scream out at the top of your lungs as your body arches off the mattress, an entire sheen of sweat spreading over your skin as Matt relentlessly drags out your orgasm until the contracting muscles of your uterus physically hurt.

“Matty, Matty, oh God, Matt,” you groan, sounding like a woman possessed as he pulls his fingers out of you and releases your clit from his mouth, a line of slick connecting your core to his lips before licking his fingers clean and giving the swollen bundle of nerves a few gentle kisses. Matt places a few kisses on your inner thighs before going straight up your body and to your lips, holding your face in his hands as you kiss one another deeply and passionately.

“More, Matty,” you moan into his lips, pulling at his bottom lip between your teeth. “This gift isn’t over til you cum, baby.”

Matt laughs so warm and happily, it’s like the sun is in the bedroom.

“Whatever you say, angel. You are the gift giver, after all,” he affirms, his lips puckering all along your collarbone.

“Tell me how you want it, Matt. What position do you want, Matty?”

Matt licks a long line up your neck to the shell of your ear, his Santa hat no longer perched atop his head.

“I want you under me, on your back, your legs as far up as they can go, while I fuck you over and over,” Matt whispers in your hear, his voice deep and seductive in its commanding tone. “Can you do that for me, angel?”

“Yes, Matthew,” you breathe.

“Good girl,” he tells me with a harsh squeeze on my hips, his hands sliding back around your legs and bringing them as high up and as close to your chest as your body will allow. Matt slaps his cock repeatedly on your slick, swollen lips before he holds his dick steady as he pushes in, the angle of your legs making everything tighter and making you feel everything on a new level, making the feeling so extraordinary and increasing the pleasure. Bent in half like this, Matt easily hits your back wall and has no problem pounding into you over and over once he gets the angle just right. His strong arms help hold your legs in place, his hands cradling your neck, thumb on your cheeks as he brings his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply and repeatedly as he hits the special spongey spot in you again and again. Your hands grip his muscly arms, pressing little red and angry half-moon shapes of your fingernails into his fair and hairy skin.

“So fucking good, angel,” he grunts into your mouth. “Fuck, s’tight and wet.”

“God, you’re so big!” you whine.

“God isn’t here, angel. Just me, my cock, and your tight cunt.”

“Ma—aahhh! Just like that, Matty, right there!”

The way that Matt’s pelvis slams into the back of your thighs is insane, hitting every right spot over and over again as you start to see stars.

“Sounds like you’re close again, angel,” he grunts. “Are you gonna cum for me again?”

“Mmm!” you whine.

“Words, babygirl.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you cry out.

“Squeeze my cock, angel. Cum for me.”

With one more hard thrust in just the right spot, you have another earth-shattering orgasm at the hands of your boyfriend. His grunts and the way his hips begin to falter tell you that he’s not going to last much longer if he keeps snapping his hips like that.

“S-Stay inside me,” you beg, holding onto his shoulders. “Fu—Cum inside me.”

Matt’s face contorts, his mouth hanging open and his brows furrowing in pleasure as he moans loudly, hitting deep and releasing his large load. You lie on the bed panting, impossibly close to one another as you both come back down to earth from your cosmic highs.

“Holy shit,” you breathe before you tilt your chin up and press a kiss to his pink, swollen lips.

“I know,” he chuckles with a little grin.

With a few more kisses, he leans back and pulls out to unfold you. As he does, you can feel his cum dribble out of your hole.

“Fuck, that smells nice, you and me together like that” Matt breathes as his thumbs rubs back and forth on your legs. “You’re so beautiful, angel.”

“You’re not bad yourself, there, Murdock.” Taking his hand in yours, you pull him back down on the mattress with you. “Did you like your gift?”

“I loved it,” he smiles, rolling into you for a kiss.

“I mean, I still have an actual gift for you, not just amazing sex.”

“Aw, you shouldn’t have,” he teases. “I love you.”

“I love you more. But I do have a question, though.”

“Mm?”

“Do you think we just got ourselves put on the naughty list for all of that?”

The room is silent before you both burst out in laughter and snuggle into one another.

“I think an exception can be made for us—we were doing something nice for one another.”

“A lawyer through and through, you are.”

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

“Merry Christmas, Matt.”

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