#writing*

[bvcktommy]

a pretty good bad idea

“Bed, now,” he pants, hands dropping down to fumble with Tommy’s belt until he’s ripping it from the loops with practised ease. “Uh, Evan,” Tommy pauses, blinking around the room aimlessly, “where exactly is the bed?”  “Floor,” Buck answers, far too preoccupied with sliding his hand into Tommy’s jeans and pawing at his cock to care about something as trivial as shame. “Haven’t, uh, had the time to set things up yet.” 

Buck and Tommy have some casual, definitely not at all ill-advised, ex-sex: an 8.11 coda.

read on ao3

[beyondspaceandstars]

The Barista

Relationship: Matt Murdock x Reader Warnings: nothing. only fluff Summary: Although the barista at the local coffee shop never seems to be able to get Matt's order right, something keeps bringing him back. A/N: enjoy this quick little fluffy thing I whipped up in the notes app of my phone <3

Masterlist

Matt winced after he took another sip of his coffee. You had added cinnamon to it this time. Cinnamon. He didn’t know how you managed to do that. His coffee was simple and, more importantly, never changed, but you—a barista at the local coffee shop—always somehow managed to get it just a little incorrect.

But, also, Matt wasn’t exactly keen on skipping his weekly coffee trips.

“What did she put in your coffee this time?” Foggy asked after having witnessed the face his friend had made.

Matt sighed. “Cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon?” Foggy laughed. “I don’t understand how that is even possible. Why do you keep going to that place?”

Matt did his best to his shrug casual, undetectable. “No reason. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Foggy gasped. “Oh my gosh.”

“What?”

“There’s a hot barista, isn’t there?”

Matt immediately started spewing out (weak) protests. “What. That’s… I— How would I—,”

But Foggy cut him off. “Don’t give me that again, Matthew. You do know. You can’t stop yourself from going to the coffee shop because you’re trying to get with a hot barista.”

“Okay,” Matt said in defeat, “maybe let’s not call her ‘hot barista.’ She’s just… She’s very kind. She makes silly coffee puns when I order. Sometimes we get to talking and… I don’t know. I like it. I like her, I think.”

“Even though she gets your coffee order wrong every single time?”

Matt blushed. “Well, I think I make her a little nervous. I may or may not have noticed some spikes in her heart rate.”

"Oh, that’s perfect," Foggy said with a laugh. "So, when are you going to ask her out?"

"I— I don’t think I can do that. That would be weird, right? Maybe she’s just being nice to me. I don’t want to be one of those customers."

"But you said her heart skips when you walk in."

"Sure, but maybe she’s just an anxious person—,"

Foggy scoffed. "Since when have you ever had this many reservations about asking someone out?"

"I don’t know," Matt admitted with a sigh. "I don't think she needs to get wrapped up in all my stuff."

"Actually it sounds like she very much wants to get wrapped up with you."

"Foggy…"

"Alright, alright, I’ll stop," he said, raising his arms in surrender. "I’m just saying, it sounds like she might be into you so I would at least think about it."

And so Matt did. He tried not to—he really did—but no matter how much he resisted it, your angelic voice and his best friend’s insisting words kept creeping up in the back of his mind. Even when he was out patrolling his city, the thoughts didn’t leave him.

In fact, it consumed Matt for an entire weekend. And he found himself back at the coffee shop bright and early Monday morning.

As Matt opened the door, he was immediately hit by your soft, sweet voice talking to another customer. You were kind and respectful as you interacted with them but Matt was quick to notice you didn’t share a coffee pun. He didn’t know why that made something in his chest warm.

When he approached the counter, he heard your heart speed up just ever so slightly, as if on perfect cue. Matt enjoyed trying to act clueless sometimes.

"Good—Good morning, Matthew," you said. "It’s good to see you again. I missed you a latte this past weekend."

Matt subtly tightened the grip on his cane. He swore you winced at your words, which he found adorable. "Good morning.” He couldn’t help but smile. "That was a good one.”

You giggled. And it nearly took his breath away.

“Thank you,” you replied. “I have to start looking up new ones. I fear I’m running out.”

Matt shook his head. “We can’t have that, can we?”

You laughed again. You were as giddy as ever around him. Maybe Foggy wasn’t completely bonkers, Matt thought.

"What can I get started for you today, Mister Lawyer?”

"Coffee. Splash of cream," Matt answered.

"Of course, of course," you muttered to yourself before waltzing around behind the counter. The sound of grinding beans and dripping coffee made Matt’s ears perk up.

"Busy day today?" You asked over the noise of the machines.

Matt shook his head. "Paperwork to do, files to review. The usual," he replied but his words felt jilted. Should he ask you? Would that be weird? Would you call the cops or something?

"Well, that’s good to hear! Your day will fly by," you said quite cheerfully. It made Matt feel really good—a particular kind of good that didn’t always come easily for him.

"It’s already off to a great start here," Matt replied, taking a little leap of faith. He swore he heard you gasp. "Um, you know, there is something I wanted to ask you."

You were now pouring coffee into a to-go cup. Matt didn’t think you had messed up anything this time but he couldn’t be sure. He was a little distracted.

"Oh, yeah?" You asked. Your voice was suddenly shaky. Your heart rate shot up. Not just a skip like before. It was pounding.

It could mean anything, really, he told himself.

"Yeah." Matt took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you’d like to grab dinner sometime. With me."

Something heavy hit the counter. "Uh, dinner? Like as a date?"

Matt chuckled. "Yes, exactly like a date."

"I’d love to." You didn’t even hesitate slightly. That made Matt feel really good.

"Great," he replied. He was sure he was keeping his composure from the outside but on the inside? He wanted to let out a sigh of relief.

You two exchanged contact information after Matt’s order was ready. He paid and you both kept it very professional, even when he noticed your hands were pretty much shaking.

The professionalism fell when he was bidding you a goodbye. You stepped around the counter to plant a kiss on his cheek and wish him a good day. It nearly took Matt aback but not in a bad way.

A permanent smile was etched onto his face for the entire morning—even when he went to take a sip of his coffee...

Vanilla. Matt could smell it, he could taste it. You had somehow added a splash of vanilla syrup to his cup of coffee. Matt laughed to himself.

[duffmckagans]

ROSESAXL PRESENTS: ROCKET QUEEN.

(featuring not an exact repost of the original. the story has since been revamped and rewritten, including minor changes in this novel and larger ones in later installments.)

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

see inside for a lengthier description of trigger warnings, tagged per chapter. this series is not suitable for minors or readers uncomfortable with mature, sensitive topics. please exercise appropriate reader discretion.

[axl rose x oc]

RATED: EXPLICIT/MATURE.

STATUS: IN PROGRESS — chapters posted weekly on wednesdays.

WORD COUNT: TBD.

READ IT HERE: WATTPAD | AO3

BOOK PLAYLIST

[whump-in-the-closet]

writing down in my notebook: effects of allnightwr include. feeling tipsy and delirious. for science

[richardsikens]

actually that night, i wanted to tell you that i only loved the things we build because we built them together. - j.l.

[estramor]

LENGTH: 4,040 words. GENRE: Greek Mythology. CHARACTERS: Orpheus, Eurydice, Hades, Persephone, Others (mentioned). RELATIONSHIPS: Orpheus/Eurydice, Hades/Persephone. SUMMARY: Only Love can stand in the Face of Death. Or: Orpheus descends in pursuit of Eurydice.

READ ON AO3.

[faerune]

patience;

[read on ao3]

pairing: gale dekarios x f!tav [triss montadras]

summary: for kinktober day eight: cockwarming

warning: smut

“Are you coming to bed, my love? Bills and letters can wait till the morrow but everyone needs some well deserved rest. Particularly you.”

Triss found it difficult to pull her eyes away from the letter she was inking but the image of Gale was quite the reward. He stood in the doorway to her office in his sleeping robes, hair mussed and brown eyes deep with dreams. The glow of her lamp complimented his features, cutting swathes of shadow across his handsome face and rendering his eyes dark.

Her brows furrowed, turning to look at the grandfather clock sitting in the corner of her office. Gods, had she truly been sitting at this desk for that long? The sun would be rising in just a few hours. Triss rubbed at her tired eyes and turned back to Gale who leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded, watching her come back into time.

“I’m sorry, darling. I must have lost track of the time.”

“It’s quite alright,” Gale hummed, wandering over to place his large, warm hands on her shoulders. The touch felt delightful through her thin linen shirt and Triss leaned back into his body. With talented hands he started to work at the tense muscles of her shoulders. She turned her head just so to brush her lips over his thumb. 

“I will say, it’s a wonder to watch you work.”

Triss recognized that cheeky tone in his voice and smirked to herself. 

“I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?”

In the past few months, things had been so busy. Between planning their trip to Waterdeep, the Crooked Crow’s ownership officially passing into her hands, and every other person in this city tugging at them for help with this and that…

“No, never,” Gale insisted quickly with a scoff and she felt him deliver a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. “I’ve been enjoying being a kept man while you toil away the hours believe it or not. It leaves time for my other pursuits.”

Triss doesn’t mention that Gale’s other pursuits are the same things that he used to pad his family’s already overflowing coffers. He had been tossing back and forth the idea of writing a theoretical book on the Crown of Karsus for weeks now.

“Though, I won’t lie that our bed has felt quite empty without you.”

Triss giggled, pressing her cheek to the back of his hand. 

“It’s alright to say you want me, Gale,” Triss hummed knowingly. Triss could almost see Gale’s fluster in her mind’s eye.

Triss was standing before he could find his words again, pulling her chair out slightly and looking at him with darkening eyes.

“Sit,” she told him, a command disguised as a sweet offer. Triss did that so well.

Gale’s eyes narrowed as he studied her face, the delightful wrinkles at the corners of his eyes nearly driving her to kiss him and take him right there. Despite her thrill, she tamped down her desires in favor of a more elaborate plan.

“What exactly are you scheming in that lovely mind of yours?” Gale asked, a smirk finally crossing his handsome features.

“You will see,” Triss said slowly, taking his hand and guiding him around the chair. She pressed him down into the seat. “Sit.”

Gale settled, his eyes glued to her every movement, intoxicated. 

Triss smiled wickedly at him, slipping her fingers down to begin undoing the buttons on her trousers. 

Gale let out a little breathless laugh, caught between watching her nimble hands or her face. He shifted, clearly pleased at this turn of events. Her heart hammered a beat in her ribs, thrilled by his eager obedience. 

Gale gasped softly when she reached down to part the silk of his robes, his needy eyes glued to her face. Waiting, anticipating, craving.

Instead of touching him, Triss pulled down the band of his small clothes just enough to reveal his cock, her knuckles dragging over his thighs as she did so. The only touch she would give him right now.

Triss paused a moment to drink him in. She loved his cock, the soft tufts of brown hair it rested in making way to his fuzzy belly, covered by parted blue silk. He was already half-hard, weeping ever so slightly at the tip. Just at the slightest chance of having her. Gale was of a modest length but his girth was impressive enough to make her squirm when he was inside her. Not to mention how well he could use it. That and his fingers. 

And his tongue…

“I’m going to finish my work…,” Triss hummed, resisting the urge to sink down onto her knees in front of him. She slipped easily between his legs, running her hands through his hair. He pushed into her touch, pretty eyes fluttering shut at the lightest tug of her fingers in his locks. Just as suddenly he had her touch, did she turn her back to him, assured that he would have the best view. 

Triss slipped her pants down just enough, Gale’s hands already skimming up her thighs to find a home at the curve of her hips. A hand to steady him, a sharp intake of breath behind her, and Triss sank onto him.

“And you’re going to sit right here.”

Gale groaned, loud and wanting, pressing his forehead into the back of her shoulders.

“Triss,” he whined softly, hands tensing on her hips. “Oh, my love, you feel-”

Gale bucked his hips instinctively. 

Triss reached back and tugged at his hair.

“Do not move,” Triss commanded, trying to disguise her breathlessness with a chiding sigh.

Gale whined, pitiful and sweet against the skin of her neck, but stilled his hips. His hands held so tight to her waist she thought it may bruise. Triss wriggled and shifted to get comfortable, ignoring the way it knocked the breath from her own lungs. Her heart racing, her wetness starting to drip down his cock. Her fingers were unsteady, trying to ignore the soft whimpers and huffs of Gale behind her. He had stilled in the refuge of her neck, thighs quivering in effort to stay still.

Triss had forgotten what exactly she had been writing and skimmed over the words already written. 

Mind over matter, she reminded herself. But oh, how she did love those sounds he was making.

Slowly, painstakingly Triss worked. Dipped the quill into ink, tracing each letter of her words meticulously onto the parchment. When Triss found herself again she began to squeeze herself around him on occasion, sending him into another series of slow, ragged breaths and little whines. Sweet man, trying to breathe through his desire. Gale wanted to be good for her so badly it made her throat tighten and her cunt ache.

He grew harder inside her, moment by moment.

When Gale gave up his practiced breathing, he instead busied himself worshipping at her neck, the tip of her ear. When he grazed his lips over the point, she nearly lost all her considerable willpower. 

Just nearly. 

Then, he switched to the other side of her neck, her head tilting in allowance. Triss made a show of ignoring him, of not making a sound. She twisted her hips on occasion, pressed them back into him, fluttered again and again around his cock. But she did not make a sound, not even a huff of breath escaped her lips.

All the while, Gale whispered sweet nothings in her ear. Not in effort to make her break but in praise, in askance.

“I would do whatever you asked if I could just live just like this, inside you,” he breathed against her ear. “You are perfect. I could drown in you.”

Gale knew how to drive her wild. Often, on purpose but in other moments, like this, just by being him. 

By the time Triss finished her letter, Gale was trembling ever so slightly though he had settled his arms around her middle comfortably. 

“Are you finished?” Gale asked breathlessly as she set the letter aside. 

Triss was floating, on loving words and his sweet obedience. It made her delightfully cruel.

“A few more letters, sweetling,” she told him in a cool, unwavering voice no matter how much her body ached. 

Gale whined brokenly and Triss grinned, quite pleased with herself, and dipped her quill into the ink once more. What great motivation to finish her work, he was. 

By the time Triss finished her other four correspondence, Gale had lost all semblance of words. No longer did he whisper promises in her ear, no longer did he lavish her with praises. He quivered underneath her. His hands flexed and unflexed at her thighs, blunt nails biting at her skin. Gale had willpower to rival her own and throughout this he had not moved, still as - and just as hard - as stone beneath her. His breath came in ragged, heated gusts against the back of her neck, raising goose pimples along her arms.

The slightest movement from Triss turned him whimpering, drooling against her neck as he placed sloppy kisses to her skin.

Triss sat back - earning another keen from her lover - and studied her letters. She set her quill down, folded the papers carefully and meticulously. Then, she tucked each into an envelope and addressed it with a steady hand. When they had been placed in a neat stack in front of her, Triss turned her head to murmur into his hair.

“You may have me now.”

Triss gasped at the swiftness with which he acted, hooking his knees to the inside of her own and spreading her. She caught herself from falling at the edge of her desk, knuckles white as he lifted her up just enough to rock desperately inside her.

“Gale-!” she gasped, eyes rolling back when his fingers found themselves at the apex of her legs.

“You are an awful, wicked woman,” he praised with a groan, fucking himself inside her with every bit of desire that had burned in him for the past hour. “And I love you. Gods, I love you-”

Gale was panting, shuddering, fucking her with everything that he had. He never left her, only withdrawing enough to rock himself inside her with a force that knocked the wind from her lungs. With his knees pinning her legs open, Triss could do nothing but gladly surrender to him. Her body bowed, back arching and muscles quivering. And his fingers, not so meticulous now that she had driven him to the very edge. They swirled and swirled around her aching clit eased by the wetness that had long ago soaked through bits of his robe and underwear, the band of her trousers. 

Triss cried out, slipping her hand back into his hair and pulling tightly at it.

“Come,” he said on a frantic rush of of breath. “I need you to come for me, my love. Please, please. I need it, please.”

Gale sounded so pretty when he begged and his breathless moan had pitched higher into a whine which made it all the sweeter. Every inch of her that had panted in silence, each moan she had swallowed was molten lava that coated her spine and poured into her belly. There was electricity in her finger tips. She couldn’t catch her breath and neither could he; their lips finding each other and biting, nipping, kissing deeply and loving. 

Gale’s arms around her middle, held her, anchored her tightly as he embraced her..

Triss’ lips parted in a silent cry, digging her nails into his scalp and pulling viciously at the silky strands of his hair as pleasure crashed through her. She shuddered, quaking thighs fighting against Gale as he held her legs apart. He groaned into her ear, whimpered her name as he pressed himself flush inside her, stretching her deliciously as he spilled himself inside her. They sparked together, crying out and teetering on the edge of endlessness. Blind was Triss to anything but the feeling of his arms wrapped around her, his cries and the throb of his cock emptying inside her.

Triss came back into herself warm, fuzzy and complete. She sunk bonelessly into Gale, his chest heaving against her back. Their lungs warred to right themselves, the dizziness and ache from lack of oxygen was just another burn of pleasure in her lust addled haze. She was still fluttering around him, the warmth of his release beginning to leak down her thighs.

“You spoil me,” Gale breathed finally. He was rubbing gently at her belly, having closed his legs so she could rest comfortably in his lap once more. “You are a wonder.”

Gently, he grabbed her chin and turned it upward from where her head rested back against his shoulder.

He kissed her sweetly and it pulled a tired, grateful smile from Triss.

“I thought you might like that,” she teased.

“Oh, I did. Very much so,” Gale hummed with a smile, gazing at her with such love in his eyes it made Triss breathless. “I have always said you know me better than I know myself. You continue to prove me right.”

“It’s a gift,” Triss joked wryly, shrugging. Gale chuckled and gave her another kiss. 

“Well, you are free to test my patience any time,” Gale began with a throaty hum. Triss quirked an eyebrow, knowing she already did that quite frequently.

Gale held a finger up, "If it involves similar circumstances to this.”

“Don’t go back on your word now,” Triss jested.

Gale gently helped her up off his lap and pulled her trousers back up to her hips as she tried to steady her wobbling knees. He secured the buttons for her too. After, Gale flicked his robe closed and took her hand.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

Oh, to be cuddled into his warm embrace and drift off to sleep. Triss couldn’t deny herself that temptation.

[pinkfey]

WIP WEDNESDAY.

i was tagged by the lovely @corvosattano and lo and behold i actually have something this time !!

tagging: @malefiicarum @rosebarsoap @lvllns @ladyshar @shadowshearts @liurnia @astarien @kirnet @druidgroves @anoras @shadowglens @calenhads @mrs-theirin @nuclearstorms @flymmcargo @maxthetruman @necroticpetals @devilbrakers @morvaris @hylfystt @shellibisshe and you!!!!!!!!!!!!

i like to call this one "astarion is playing himself and he doesn't even know it. also he's bitchy."

“How did you learn such a skill, anyhow? Picking locks on doors you can’t enter?” she teased.

Astarion grumbled. What was that saying? Stones from glass houses?

“So many jokes from one asking so many favors.”

“One joke,” she corrected. “And one favor.”

Astarion listened close for the ticks of the lock, rolling his eyes. “Eugh. That’s how it always starts. ‘Pick a lock for me, Astarion! Hold my bag for me, Astarion! Rub my back for me, Astarion! Do all the hard work for me, Astarion, while I gorge myself on excess and watch’—Shhhhhhit!” The pick snapped between his fingers pathetically, as if retribution for his outburst.

If Ursula noticed his defeat, she did not reveal it. Gorge myself on excess, she mouthed with a slow nod. She shrugged, took another bite of her apple, and said nothing. Typical of her to let him complain. Some days he couldn’t decide whether she was patient or simply a stonewall. Perhaps both.

Astarion wormed the broken pick out of the lock, grateful it hadn’t been busted, and set to work with a fresh set.

He contemplated an apology—the use of it, that is. In truth, the situation between the two of them was quite the opposite and he knew it. She rarely asked anything of him. Of anyone, really. She defended him relentlessly and she allowed him to drink from her on the regular, and he didn’t need to ask. Picking a lock once in exchange for the kind of security and sustenance she provided seemed more than a fair bargain.

But Astarion was nothing if not frivolous, and Ursula did not mind, so he deigned to feel no shame in complaining, hyperbolic as he may have been. Perhaps embarrassingly so.

“You know you can get up whenever you wish, love,” Ursula said.

He tutted, tossed a sideways glance at her. Torchlight glinted off the recent puncture wounds in her neck as she leaned against the wall. Her good hand held the apple while she tucked the injured one close to her waist. He looked away quickly, lest he be reminded how she found herself injured in the first place. Lest he feel a shred of guilt, or worse: indebtment.

He can get up whenever he wishes.

Hmph.

Well.

The lock wasn’t exactly difficult, was it? He wasn’t doing this for her. On his knees in the dirt? Certainly not. This was a strategic move. He needed her trust. He wanted to see what was on the other side as well. Obviously.

The final tumbler clicked into place and he teased the lock to the side. He shoved the door open with a triumphant grin, only to be met with… Nothing. About ten square feet of dusty floorboards and barren wall sconces. Not even a hint of any secret passageways or loose planks. Astarion’s shoulders slumped.

Ursula poked her head inside and casually scanned the vacant room. “Huh,” she said. “Just an empty storage room. Oh well.”

“Wh—” Astarion started, but she was already marching away. “Are you kidding me?! After all that?”

[satoruan]

You guys want headcannons or a fic 2day?

[homelygrantaire]

word count: 124

fandom: daredevil

ship: mattfoggy

It's been awhile since Foggy has 'toked up' as it were. He used recreationally in high school, and college. However having a job really put things in perspective, and usually Matt and himself are too busy to take the down time to really enjoy a good smoking session.

Matt's head is lolling onto his shoulder, weightless is a way that he only is after a good blunt - or when he is especially fucked out. It's an expression that Foggy is very fond of. Knowing that Matt is actually relaxing his body, and not thinking for a little while. His sunglasses are off, and that heats up Foggy's chest as well. Matt is never without his sunglasses, especially in company. It makes him feel special.

[atasteforsuicidal]

hey, i just read revelations and heartaches, i wanted to thank you for making jason 31 and still inexperienced. i was so surprised when i hit the part of the fic where you revealed his age because i feel like i see a lot of inexperienced early-20s jason but rarely see him portrayed that way when he's a little bit older. anyway it made me very happy to see, so, thank you

you are so welcome, and thank YOU for reaching out to comment on it! that means a lot to me! i loooove a good cannon-timeline smut/kink fic as much as the next person, but sometimes i am also just like. emotional and sexual maturity? in THESE assholes? not yet there isn't.

but also, really. experience levels vary across many ages; gaining experience later in life is absolutely normal and shouldn't be constantly written off.

[bvcktommy]

thursday's child has far to go

Tommy laughs, as much as it can be called a laugh when he can barely get the air to do it, but his breath still grazes against Buck’s lips, the ghost of what he really wants. It’s warm, and Tommy’s still looking at him, and it’s been eighteen days, and he’s baked on nearly every one of them. They’re in a crashed helicopter and Tommy’s pinned down and it’s a terrible idea and it’s been eighteen days, he’s counted every one, and- Buck kisses him.

Tommy's helicopter goes down. Buck copes.

Kind of.

Hey - he never said he was coping well.

read on ao3

[beyondspaceandstars]

valentine's day with matt

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! This is a quick little headcanon/thoughts/scenario (?) I came up with. I’ve had a strong Daredevil fixation lately. But, anyway, this is just a silly little fun thing but I hope you enjoy it. I don’t know if it’s very good but it’s festive and sweet, I think :)

also apparently there is a limit to how many characters you can use in a bullet-point list so i apologize for the atrocious formatting, i can't figure out how to get around that dumbass rule with this text editor

There is no doubt in my mind that Matt is an absolute romantic when he’s in a real, stable relationship

He doesn’t let himself into them but when he finds a person and dedicates himself fully, there’s no holding him back from worshipping his partner

Matt met you in the late spring, way past Valentine’s Day for that year, and frankly, he wasn’t sure if you’d want to stick around past the summertime

He got nervous when you two started getting serious and when he eventually let you in on his nighttime activities he was sure you would run for the hills

But you hadn’t

And the next thing you both knew… it was the season of love. Valentine’s Day. Your first Valentine’s Day together was just around the corner.

You truly didn’t expect much. Maybe a nice dinner and flowers—the expectation of flowers would even be pushing it. In your past relationships, Valentine’s Day hadn’t been anything. You’d try to get your partners to do thing, go out on dates with you, but no one ever seemed very interested in it all.

“It’s a holiday to sell things,” your last boyfriend had said to you when you’d asked him if he wanted to have a nice dinner at your favorite steakhouse. It was then that you had simply assumed men just didn’t do Valentine’s Day.

Matt, on the other hand, was stressing—seriously stressing—over February 14th.

The man would be practically making himself sick trying to plan out the day. But he was very good at hiding his stress. At least, from you. Foggy wasn’t spared from witnessing Matt’s panic.

"What about that new Italian place around the corner? Does it look nice?"

"Matt, do you think you’re maybe overthinking all of it?"

Matt would never admit if he was but…yes, he was.

You were unaware of it all and tried not to think too hard about the holiday. You had gotten Matt a small gift and were going to suggest having a night in with a nice dinner and a bottle or two of wine…

But then he caught you off guard.

You were out for lunch with him the day before Valentine’s Day. You two didn’t work too far from one another and so lunch dates (depending on your schedules, of course) had become a pretty regular part of your weekly routine.

It was about halfway through your lunchtime when, out of nowhere, completely unprompted, Matt said, "I made us reservations for tomorrow night at an Italian restaurant not too far from here."

Your jaw went slack and your heartbeat shot up. The concern that fell on Matt’s face told you he noticed.

"If… If that’s okay with you," he stammered, trying to walk back on his words. "If you don’t want to do anything for Valentine’s Day, I understand, I’m sure I can cancel—,"

"No!" Your outburst took both of you by surprise. You almost start laughing out of nervousness. "I mean, I’d love to. It sounds amazing, I was just…surprised. No guy I’ve been with has ever really wanted to do anything on Valentine’s Day."

Matt frowned. A deep, serious frown. "You’ve never gone out for Valentine’s Day?"

"Not really." You felt your cheeks go warm. "I’m very excited." Your heartbeat hadn’t settled since he mentioned dinner plans.

The next day, you were giddy. You had stayed over at Matt’s place and decided to wake up early to make him a nice breakfast. He was speechless. You two would exchange "Happy Valentine’s Day" before swapping sweet kisses and going your separate ways for the day.

You’d assume you wouldn’t hear from Matt again until dinner time but then a giant — giant — bouquet of roses was delivered to your office. You were stunned. As were your coworkers. And then the flowers made you hopelessly tear up.

It was already the best Valentine’s Day you’ve ever had and you still had dinner to look forward to.

After work, you returned to your apartment and freshened up.

You were quite nervous for some reason. It didn’t make sense. You’d been going out with Matt for almost a year. You two had been on numerous dates. Hell — you two slept together regularly. But this? Valentine’s Day dinner? This was what was making you all jittery?

It was a mix between never really knowing what to expect for Valentine’s Day and wanting everything to go perfectly.

Matt was patiently waiting for you outside the restaurant when you arrived. You saw a smirk creep its way onto his lips, no doubt sensing your presence.

"Hi, honey," you said as you approached and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You made quite the ruckus at my office today with that garden of flowers you sent."

Matt chuckled. "Were they okay? I kind of had to trust the florist’s opinion and he could’ve scammed me for all I know."

You laughed. "They’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen."

"You clearly haven’t looked in the mirror lately."

"Matthew Murdock, you’re silly."

The restaurant he had chosen was stunning. Very fancy, very chic. A nice modern, clearly high-end, Italian restaurant. You gasped when you saw the array of artistic decor. It was just all so…romantic.

"Is it… Do you like it? Is this okay? I also had to trust Foggy for advice on this place—,"

"It’s wonderful, Matt. Everything is so wonderful."

He took your elbow and gave it a squeeze.

The hostess then escorted you two to your table, Matt continued holding onto your elbow and you had to keep yourself from laughing. No doubt he had already mapped out the place in his head.

Your table was in the back of the establishment, kind of hidden and private. You wondered if Matt had dropped some extra money to get something so intimate. You were tearing up at the thought.

"Are you okay?" Matt asked after you two took your seats.

"You make me feel so special."

Wordlessly, Matt found your hand and kissed the back of it. It was almost silly but it made your heart skip a beat. Seriously, you felt like a teenager on a first date.

You diverted your attention to the menu. You quickly realized Matt had the same one as you — a.k.a. a menu he couldn’t exactly read. It looked like Matt came to the same realization as you when he picked it up.

"Oh, should I see if they—,"

Matt shook his head. "Read it to me?" He leaned back in his seat, waiting, a little cocky or proud of himself.

You blushed. "Sure, I think I can manage that."

Dinner went by very nicely. You raved about the food and Matt looked relieved that you enjoyed it. You two even split a dessert. Matt "accidentally" got whipped cream on your cheek, which he just had to clean up himself. You teased him it was just a ploy to get close to you and he didn’t deny it.

Afterward, you two walked arm and arm back to his place. The night was peaceful and lovely and…perfect.

"I have a gift to give you later," you said, breaking the silence.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm," you sighed. "Well, maybe I have a couple of gifts."

"Oh?" Matt smirked.

"I gotta thank my lovely boyfriend properly. This was the best Valentine’s Day," you admitted.

Matt stopped on the sidewalk. The streets were quiet and empty. His arm untangled from yours, his hands grinding your waist with ease. "It’s not over yet," Matt said in a hushed tone. "Besides, I might have a couple of gifts for you as well."

And then he kissed you deeply. The world around you felt like it had stopped.

"Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart."

"Happy Valentine’s Day, honey."

[wnine]

400 words 🥴 pathetic. i'm about to hit a slump i can feel

[cosmicwritings]

birthright, j.l.