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harpyloon · 2 years

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okay this is a bit of a specific request, but i was wondered if you could write a coops fic based off of this video. maybe one of them is knocked unconscious during a game or has to undergo surgery and they’re super groggy and confused when they wake up and they’re just like “ wow, you’re my husband?” bonus points if it’s sirius and he’s like “when did i come out???”

anyways, no pressure i just saw the video and thought it was a really cute idea <333

This video is just so unbelievably cute. Oh my god. I have an angsty version of this fic in my WIPs but it felt right to do some fluff today! Hope you enjoy! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW for wooziness/ memory loss from anesthesia, mention of minor surgery

Faint steady beeps made up most of the background noise, accompanied by shuffling sounds and a sigh as Sirius moved around and blinked at the camera in confusion from his hospital bed. “Where am I?”

“Still the hospital,” Dumo chuckled behind the screen. “Same as the last three times, mon fils.”

“Why are you speaking French?”

“Because I like it.”

“I can’t speak French,” Sirius grumbled, messing with the wires trailing from his pulse monitor.

“Sirius, you’re French-Canadian. It was your first language.”

Sirius sighed again through his nose and looked up at the ceiling. “Why am I here?”

“You had appendicitis.”

“Oh. Okay.” He frowned slightly. “Did I die?”

“No,” Dumo snorted.

“Huh. C’est bizarre.”

“You are so out of it right now,” Dumo muttered under his breath; Sirius showed no sign of hearing him. The camera wobbled as Dumo dug around in his pocket, then held something out to him to take with clumsy fingers. “Here, I didn’t want this to get lost.”

Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed in downright adorable confusion. “Qu’est-ce que c’est?”

“Your wedding ring.”

If anything, that seemed to make him even more distressed. “What? Why would you let me do that?”

“Get married?” Dumo asked around a laugh. “It was your choice, mon fils.”

Sirius slipped the ring on, though he didn’t look happy about it. “But—but I didn’t want to get married. Have I come out to you yet?”

“Ouais.”

“Then why would you let me get married?”

“Shhh.”

Sirius leaned back against the pillows, though he was still obviously upset. “Is my wife here, then?”

“You don’t have a wife.”

“Well if I’m married, then I have to, because I can’t get married if I’m gay and you knew that and I don’t like you anymore,” he huffed with a petulant tilt to his mouth.

There was a long pause behind the camera. “Sirius, gay marriage has been legal for seven years here. It’s been legal in Montreal for almost twenty. Also, what possible power do I have to make you get married to a woman?”

“I dunno.”

“You’re so high you forgot you have rights,” Dumo murmured in utter disbelief. “Mon dieu.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m missing an organ, so pardonnez-moi.”

“Wow, you haven’t had that attitude in almost eight years,” Dumo remarked dryly. “Can I tell your friends they can come in now, or are you going to pout at me for a while longer?”

Sirius had the decency to look abashed. “Desolée.”

In the corner of the frame, Dumo motioned toward the door with his free hand; it swung open a second later and James poked his head in. “Hey, buddy, how’s it going?”

“Oh! I know you, you have a bab—” The puppylike excitement on Sirius’ face faded into total shock—his eyes went huge and his mouth dropped open slightly as the door closed behind the newcomers. “Wh—um.”

Remus crossed the room to sit in the chair next to Sirius’ bed, reaching out to take his hand and hold it between his own with a soft smile; the pulse monitor picked up speed. His shoulder obscured the camera for a second before Dumo shifted his own chair over a few inches. “You feeling okay?” Remus asked as he tucked the edge of Sirius’ blanket back in. Sirius stayed dead silent, still staring at him. “Are you drinking water?”

“You’re holding my hand,” Sirius said faintly. His gaze flickered over to Dumo, then back to Remus. “I—wow.”

James had to turn away to hide his laughter as a blush crept up the back of Remus’ neck. “You’re still loopy, huh?” he said, pressing the water glass into Sirius’ palm. “Gotta hydrate, baby.”

Sirius, who had just brought the rim of the cup to his lips, sputtered and blushed pink all the way to the tips of his ears. “What did you just call me?” he whispered, wide-eyed. “Do I know you?”

“I’m Remus, and you better know me,” Remus teased, though his voice was fond. “Drink your water.”

“Have I come out to you?”

“Well, not officially, but I got the memo.”

“You’re the prettiest nurse in the whole world.”

“Thank you. I’m not a nurse.”

“What are you?”

“Your husband.”

“My what?”

All three of them shushed him. “There are other people here, Sirius,” Dumo told him through his snickering. “Inside voices.”

“How long have we been married?” Sirius was looking at Remus like he was trying to memorize his face, though his blinking was considerably slower than normal and wonderment tinged every feature. “Are you sure?”

“Just over a year, and I’m very sure.”

“You married me?”

Remus bit his lip, fighting a grin. “Mhmm.”

“For real?”

“Yep.”

“Holy shit.” Sirius finally looked away, turning to James in disbelief. “Holy shit. Did you know that?”

“Yeah, Pads, I was your best man,” James laughed.

“I won the fuckin’ jackpot,” Sirius whispered to himself as he ran his free hand down his face and tilted his head toward Remus again. “Dumo said I got married and I’m really glad it’s legal here because you’re so handsome and do you have pictures also I think I want to kiss you and you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you, baby,” Remus said, trying (and failing) to stifle his laughter as James wiped tears of mirth from under his glasses. “I do have pictures, but you need to get some r—”

Sirius’ gasp was loud in the overall peaceful atmosphere. “We’re married. Does that mean we’ve already kissed?”

That was it—the straw that broke the camel’s back. The camera trembled for a moment before Dumo rested it on his knee while all three of them lost it, leaving Sirius with a mixture of confusion and genuine excitement on his face. Remus rested his forehead against Sirius’ shoulder and nodded after a moment, breathless. “Yes, we have,” he managed. “On multiple occasions.”

If anything, that only seemed to make Sirius happier. “Can I have one?”

“Yeah, sure, why not,” Remus said with an amused shake of his head. He leaned up and placed one on his cheek—Sirius’ chest visibly hitched and a soft exhale left his mouth.

“Hopeless,” Dumo whispered behind the camera. “Absolutely hopeless.”

“Is it legal to get married twice?” Sirius asked, still watching Remus with unbridled affection.

“To the same person?”

Sirius shot Dumo an offended look. “Obviously. That’s my husband.”

“Why would that be legal?”

The offense turned to exasperation. “I forgot about gay marriage, so pardon me for not remembering this, too.”

Remus kissed his forehead and Sirius returned to his previous awestruck state. “You’re going to take a nap and then I’ll show you wedding pictures if you still don’t remember, okay?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I love you,” Sirius repeated with a lopsided smile.

Remus closed his eyes and fought back his laughter. “I love you, too.”

“Bless your patience, Remus Lupin,” Dumo snorted.

Sirius seemed unaffected by his interruption as he toyed with his wedding ring. “Do we say that a lot?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder as he pulled the blanket up to the base of Sirius’ ribs. “A normal amount, yeah. Usually before we go to bed.”

“I love you.” Sirius closed his eyes when Remus smoothed the front of his hair off his forehead. “I’m going to take a nap, so I can say that.”

“Do you want Dumo and James to stay with you?”

“Will you stay?”

“Course I will.”

“Then they can do whatever.” Sirius tried to shift onto his side, then winced. “My side hurts.”

“Sleep,” Dumo reminded him. “You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

Anyone believe in love at first sight? read a curl of text as the screen went dark. If you’re Cap, you’re lucky enough to experience it twice (this video was published with consent from all parties).

#im kinda crying this is so beautiful

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harpyloon · 2 years

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CHARLIE COX as MATT MURDOCK DAREDEVIL | S01E01: Into the Ring

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harpyloon · 2 years

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More Instagram Posts: PART 3/? of the King of Scars/Grisha Trilogy social media AU.

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harpyloon · 2 years

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matt murdock is a really good lawyer indeed

he’s back!!!!

#the i made inhumane sounds when this scene happened #I HATE HIS HAIR BUT I LOVE HIM

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harpyloon · 2 years

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the devil of hell's shower || matt murdock

this is just matt being overly dramatic and worrying too much but also being disgustingly in love with you it's just a tiny little ficlet that's been bouncing around my head like a dvd loading screen it's a gn reader

warnings: just disgusting tooth rotting sweet fluff, nakedness, shower, loving intimacy, relationship milestones

words: 1.8k ish

ao3 link

gif credit: @acme-m7

The gentle sounds of the shower running in his bathroom was a nice relaxing background noise, like rain on the roof, calmed him down from the stress of the day as he cleaned up after dinner. He could smell your shampoo in the steam, it had found its home in his shower quickly after you started staying the night. You would use his body wash, conditioner, toothpaste but no shampoo was where you drew the line. He had the vague recollection that you’d tried to explain it to him sometime but he had zoned out just listening to your heart and feeling the gentle heat of you across the couch from him.

Matt loved having you in his apartment; loved the pieces of you that you left there even when you weren’t. First it had been the shampoo, shirts here and there, even your favorite coffee creamer just showing up in his fridge one day. A sense of domesticity he had frequently thought was beyond his reach you just dropped at his doorstep day by day, like a cat bringing its owner mice. A gift. One he happily gathered up and hoarded in his chest just below his heart, keeping you with him at all times, and returned the favor tenfold. Things you had offhandedly mentioned scattered around his apartment next, like a huge neon open sign that this could be your apartment too. Things like extra pillows on your side of his bed, an extra toothbrush in case you ever forgot yours, every single snack he ever saw you ate would simply appear in his kitchen.

His peace as he reminisced about the little nest you two had created together, a home, was quickly shattered by the loud thud of you falling in the shower. Matt dropped the rag he’d been still holding after drying the dishes and surged across the apartment as panic sparked every nerve in his body alive. The door almost fell off its hinges with the force he put into wrenching it open and he was met with the sound of you groaning as you sat up. Matt fell to his knees in front of you with a thud that would have hurt if he had any part of his brain available to register it.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” His hands fluttered from your head across the planes of your face and down to your shoulders, arms as he checked for anything; any mark or break. Anything to explain why you were suddenly on the floor of his shower and when he found nothing he worried even more at what he could possibly be missing.

“‘m fine. Fuck, just- I just slipped y’know.” Your soft hands reached out to grab his and held them against you so he could feel your steady heartbeat, knowing it was what he needed. Matt’s heart reacted the same as it always did immediately slowing down to match yours, it happened unconsciously like his body wanted to meld with yours.

“You slipped,” the words came slow to him like it was a puzzle he was setting out piece by piece to see how they connected. His palm flattened on your chest and he felt every breath you took. The calm in you slowly seeping into him, his mind still racing at the idea of a threat already on its descent into quiet. Your wet fingers dragging through his hair as he sighed finally letting himself relax into you.

“Yeah Matty, I slipped. I got the shower a little too hot and I didn’t realize how dizzy I was until it was too late, that’s all, sorry I scared you.” He took his time digesting your words, one hand traveling up to brush your hair off your face, his touch gentle, reverent as always. Your heartbeat was consistent, truth; and he couldn’t smell anything off about you, nothing sick. “You’re smelling me right now aren’t you, freak?”

Your teasing words melted the final bits of tension in the air and they swirled down the drain with the water. His position on his knees while he charted your face under his hands just this side of prayer.

“You still have shampoo in your hair, you just fell in the shower and are sitting like a baby deer. Your leg is gonna bruise from where it hit the side of the tub but I’m the freak?”

The lack of a fight had him back to himself, that coy smirk now plastered across his lips- lips that he pressed against yours, leaning under the water just to kiss you. Nails scraped down the back of his head to his neck and he groaned against your mouth continuing to push into the shower not caring about the way his shirt plastered to his skin under the water. It didn’t matter he knew he was going to end up in the shower with you anyways so why should he care if his clothes got ruined.

You finally pulled back, his forehead pressed to yours as you caught your breath. “It’s a good thing you’re gonna help me get the rest of this shampoo out of my hair since I’m so seriously injured.”

“Oh, am I now?”

“Yeah, you are.”

Now it was your turn to initiate the kiss, your hands unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders with the ease of someone who had done it enough times it was like muscle memory. Once it hit the floor in a damp pile he broke the kiss and wrapped a strong arm around your chest just under your arms and like you weighed almost nothing, pulled you both to stand. He waited several moments still hesitant that you would fall again before removing the last of his clothing so he could step in behind you.

It didn’t take long for him to find his favorite place as he pressed himself up against your back, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck where he placed the smallest kisses imaginable. You stood like that for longer than either of you would admit, until the water went from the melting hot you liked to a much more reasonable warm. Not that you needed it, Matt always seemed to run a million degrees like your own personal space heater. That line of heat pressed against you was a feeling that always made your brain go a little fuzzy. Matt hummed gently before spinning you to face him so that your hair was under the shower, his hands gently massaging your scalp and clearing out the last of the suds left behind.

You reached for his shampoo as he grabbed the conditioner and the two of you went about a routine you had long since established. He always took his time making sure to touch every single inch of you, not just in the shower this was just his best excuse for it. While he took the entire thing so seriously, like it was a form of worship just to help you shower. You however did not, making his hair into a mohawk with the shampoo and giggling at how it turned out.

“Enjoying yourself,” the deep rumble wasn’t a question and his mouth twitched with the effort it took not to smile at your fervent nod. The mohawk was the first of many terrible hairstyles each worse than the last and eventually he gave up on mapping your body in the shower and simply leaned against the wall content to let you do as you pleased as long as you were both happy and more importantly touching.

“Wait! I got it, this is gonna be the best one, you ready?” You took the sarcastic raise of his eyebrow, not sure how he could survey sarcasm so well in just a single eyebrow raise but had learned long ago not to underestimate him, as assent. Your hands worked at his hair with such concentration, nails scratching along his scalp as a thank you for all his patience as you went.

Until two little soapy devil horns stood up on the top of his head.

This time he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. No matter how angsty of a man Matt Murdock could be, how angry at the world or himself or God. You were somehow always able to carve these little moments out of the worst of days, out of the worst of himself. Always able to shine light into even the darkest corners of himself, dusting out the cobwebs with care and love.

His arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into him to press his laughter and love into you, pouring everything he feels about you down your throat. Trailing a burning line of open kisses down your throat between growled words of love.

“I love you so goddamn much,” your head tipped back with a breathless laugh, giving him better access to the skin of your neck. Matt traded his kisses for small bites up the line of your neck until his hot breath was against your ear.

“I love you too, my scary Devil-man.”

Once more the gentle sounds of the shower lulled Matt into peace, but this time you followed. You stepped back to pull him under the path of the water and he closed his eyes as you rinsed the shampoo from his hair, fingers scratching along his scalp. Rumbles of affection from deep in his chest, pressed up against yours like a ridiculously warm, loving barnacle.

The end of the shower dragged out for far longer than necessary, only able to do things the few times you were able to peel Matt from you for just moments at a time. He’d always come back, grabbing at you with a frown until you let him slide his face into the crook of your neck again, gently rubbing his stubble across goosebumps on your skin. He finally detached once you were out and dry, just long enough for both of you to get dressed for bed.

“I love you so much,” he repeated his earlier statement this time in the form of a kiss on your forehead as you started to drift to sleep with your head on him. The soothing sounds of his heartbeat and the soft purrs in response to being tangled with you, almost a lullaby. Too tired to respond out loud, you pressed a sloppy kiss to the center of his chest under you and the last thing you heard was his gentle chuckle at your sleepy affection.

Having you near was always a balm to his scattered soul, your mere presence in his apartment enough to turn it into a home. A home you both shared with the giddy excitement of teenagers in love, it felt new every day. He couldn’t wait to ask you to move in, but he did, instead cuddling further into you as he joined you in sleep.

After all, it was only one more night.

#🥺#matt murdock

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harpyloon · 2 years

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man oh man you've got me in my feelings about college matt. i've always liked the college sweethearts idea as cliche as it sounds, but irl it feels like i've missed my chance lmao so i will be living through fics <3 anyway,, i am thinking abt sharing school sweaters, laying in his lap in the grass field when the sun's out, spending late nights in the library, sleeping in each other's dorms ,,, yearning to share all the typical college experiences i've missed out on with him 🥺

bestie the way that i did not even go to college so i feel this but i've been sitting on this for too long so i'm gonna do them all rn in tumblr and not read over or edit any of it just hit post fsdfds so enjoy!!! also the line is from my favorite book mistborn by brandon sanderson i just skipped to a random page and wrote what was there down. i felt really strongly about this so i write every single one you mentioned!!!

"is that my sweatshirt?"

you freeze, slowly turning to look at matt. he's standing by the door to your dorm, cane in one hand and backpack in the other. you were getting ready to go get coffee before either of your classes started when he realized.

"what? no? what makes you think this is yours?" the fake innocent voice you put on only furthers the smile on his face and he adjusts so that he's leaning up against the door frame, the bottom of his own sweatshirt riding up to expose a sliver of skin.

"it smells like me." you throw your own backpack over one shoulder, wildly underestimating just how heavy it is and it almost takes you down with the momentum. a warm hand reaches out to steady you against your waist, he's stepped into your space when you weren't looking and you feel the familiar butterflies that you always get around him.

"oh well, ya caught me." matt pulls you in by his grip on his own sweatshirt that now dons your frame and presses his lips to yours. your hands move to hold the fabric on his chest, the rest of the world slipping away under him.

"yeah, i caught you," his voice is low, and deep as he breathes the words across your lips before pulling back and holding your door open. "coffee time."

the warm sun bakes down on you where you lay, out on the quad, in front of your dorm. solid thighs shift beneath your head and you almost go to open your eyes when his hand shifts to run along your hair.

"comfy?" you can hear the turning of pages as he reads, the gentle hum of whatever song foggy had gotten stuck in his head. you'd come out here to do homework and enjoy the sunny weather, the chill of winter finally being chased away by pollen and leaves. green.

you'd announced not long after that it was too nice to be doing work and instead splayed out in the grass with your head in matt's lap. he'd laughed and teased you for being like a cat curling up in the one sun spot that would shine through the window no matter how inconveniently placed, but still shifted everything off him to better make room for you. only placing the small book down on your chest so that he could easily run his fingers across it to read.

"yeah, might take a nap," you mumble back, nuzzling further into his touch and enjoying the way he seems to relish even this muted form of affection. "read to me?"

it doesn't matter what he's reading, sometimes it's textbooks, sometimes novels, still you always ask. the comfort from his voice deep in his chest as he spins stories out loud for you with all of the care of a parent reading to a child. sometimes when it's just the two of you he'll do funny voices just to hear you laugh and egg him on.

"of course." is the reply before he begins guiding you deeper in your descent into sleep. "what proof do we have? the words of men long dead, only now deemed divinatory? even if we accept these prophecies, only tenuous interpretation links them to me."

"matty," you whispered loudly across the table, making sure your voice would cut through the recording going on his laptop. sure enough, he hit pause and turned to face you, one earbud still in.

"yeah?"

he arched an eyebrow and you had to hold laughter back. "whats the answer to 18?"

"are you trying to cheat off me?" his voice turned mock horrified and you reached out to smack against his shoulder. it ended up being louder than you meant and you both got an angry shush from across the room by the librarian.

"it's not cheating if you tell me, then it's just helping." you lean even closer across the table, and he takes in a quick breath, drawing as much of you into his mouth as possible.

he matches your pose, until there's nothing but a single inch between your lips. "sounds like cheating to me."

"ugh, fine don't help your partner good luck getting kisses." you groan out against his smile, before sitting back in your chair with a huff. he rolls his eyes before pushing his glasses up his nose and going back to his own work.

you look back down at your papers, switching, and moving them around trying to find the notes you thought you had taken during the last class.

"we're closing in ten you two." the librarian calls out, and when you look back up you realize the entire rooms empty, and it's just the two of you. meaning it's coming up on midnight and you've been here for at least four hours.

matt starts packing his stuff up, reaching out to grab yours as well, he's always so careful with your things, gently organizing and placing them into your backpack.

"did you figure out 18?" he asks sweetly, putting both yours and his backpack over each shoulder. he never lets you carry things as much as he can, always taking your backpack or carrying your water bottle.

"no i didn't thank you very much," he leans down at your grumbled words to press the softest kiss to your cheek.

"it's 38 sweetheart."

it's more often than not that one of you is sleeping in the others rooms, curled up under blankets on a small twin size mattress. his or yours it doesn't matter, soft fleece blankets and expensive silk sheets at his insistence on both beds.

warm arms wrapped around your chest, his nose nuzzled deep into your hair. you card your fingers through his hair in a gentle attempt to rouse him from his sleep. your alarm had gone off a couple minutes ago, which meant that he was only still sleeping out of nothing but spite. he hadn't been sleeping well the last week, up late studying for finals so stressed about whether or not he was going to make the grades to get him into columbia.

it didn't matter how much you and foggy told him he would do fine, that he was more than smart enough, capable enough. he'd still been up till four am most nights, practically chugging coffee to keep his eyes open while he listened back over every page of notes he'd taken all semester.

he'd whine if you even talked about going by to your room to sleep alone, even on those nights he just wanted you close by. you couldn't help but acquiesce and curl up under his arm, head tucked into his side to avoid the light from his laptop.

he always made sure to not keep you up, volume so low you weren't sure how he still heard it. screen brightness dim and turned away from you, always so considerate.

which is why you felt bad about waking him up now, knowing he'd only slept at best maybe four hours. if he didn't have class in another hour you'd have let him sleep in more, just snuck out and wrapped the blanket tightly around him. but he'd be grumpy, if he woke up and you weren't there, you knew from personal experience.

"matty, baby, gotta get up." you press soft kisses across his cheek, watching his eyelashes flutter in response, his arm pulls around you tighter.

deep rumbles of annoyance roll through him as he squeezes his eyes shut even more, like if he tries hard enough somehow it'll be night time again and he'll be able to catch even twenty more minutes of sleep.

"i know, but you've got class in fourty-five and i know you're gonna want a shower and some coffee first," he'd be more annoyed if you didn't know him better than he knew himself, couldn't help the small smile that tugged on his lips.

"mmm'fine." waking up wasn't all that bad he thought, not when you were there, hands in his hair, lips on his face. not when you knew exactly what time he'd need to be up in order to take a shower and get coffee before class, that you'd set your alarm for him knowing you didn't have class till halfway through his.

no, this was all you. all good.

#perfection #mattmurdock

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