totallycorny

[totallycorny]

The Betting Game

Matthew Murdock x Fem!Reader

Chapter One: Feelings Caught

Summary: Both you and Fog have a little tradition, including bets. More specifically, betting on Matthew Murdock and his activities. But what happens when you become one of those bets?

Warning: sexual implications, harassment, alcohol, slut shaming.

word count: 1.2k

a/n: I’ve been rewatching Daredevil and rereading bellaxgiornata‘s most famous series, ‘Falling for the Devil,’ and it might have led to this. Enjoy!

You hurriedly approached your destination, your dress flats clicking against the pavement. The paper bag containing the cream cheese bagels you held trembled slightly. By the end, you hoped they were not all that ugly.

A ringtone buzzed in your purse as you continued to speedwalk. "Shit, shit, shit." A string of curses fell out of your mouth as you pulled your phone out of your purse, quickly unlocking it and answering the phone call. "Yes?" You heaved as you continued to speedwalk. "Where are you?" Foggy's voice caught you off guard. "Shit, I'm sorry, Foggy! My phone died, and I woke up late, but, but, but!" You paused as you turned a corner. "I got those bagels you guys like."

Foggy's voice on the other end yelled, "She's okay! She's just late, plus she got bagels!" You chuckled as you finally saw the sign. Nelson and Murdock, Attorneys at Law. "I'm here; I'll see you in a second." A beep ended the call.

Finally, you made your way up the stairs. Before you could even open the door, Matt opened it for you. "Whoa, good morning to you too." You nodded at him as you walked into the room, setting down the bag of bagels and hanging your purse. "Sorry, the line was super long, and I may have stayed up to continue researching our case." You sighed as you walked into the small kitchen. Fixing yourself a cup of coffee as well as fixing yourself up.

"Well, all that matters is that you're here," Matt spoke again, giving you a small smile. Foggy made his way out of his office to finally grab himself a bagel. "Damn, they're perfect every time." He sighed as he bit into one, and Karen just chuckled and grabbed herself one.

You looked around the room, noticing how empty it was. "So, why did I rush over here?" Grabbing your coffee cup from the counter, you turned to face the others. "I could have sprained my ankle coming here, just saying." Foggy chuckled, and Matt scoffed.

"Well, we did have a customer, the same person from before, for the case," Matt says as he puts on his coat, already trying to depart the room you just came into. "Leaving already? What did he say?" Your eyebrows quirked up as Karen spoke this time. "He, uh, dropped the case." A small cough came out of her lips as you groaned. "But I thought we were getting somewhere; I spent all night researching, and there is so much more than what he says. Did he say why he wanted to drop the case?" Karen shook her head.

The sound of the door opening caught your attention. Your eyes were zipping over to Matt. "And where are you going?"  Matt stopped in his tracks, clearing his throat before he spoke. "Got something to do. Don't worry about it." He says before he shuts the door, his footsteps receding down the hall before you could hear anything of it. "I bet 5 dollars he is going to get hurt again." You nodded as you continued to sip your coffee. "10 that he's going to see a lady friend." Foggy joined in, snickering at his deal. You rolled your eyes.

Karen kept eating her cream cheese bagel as you and Foggy kept bickering over what Matt was going to do or get himself into. "Why do you guys always bet over Matt? You've been doing this ever since I've been here." Karen looked up from her bagel, looking at the both of you for answers. You stopped your bickering and looked toward Karen before smiling. "We've been doing this since college. He'd always disappear without a trace, and we kind of knew it was going to be girls, so we bet on which girl he was going to be with." Foggy continued, "Yeah, that is until he got beat up once. Ever since then, we just kind of changed our bets to whether he'd get beat up or get it on." You nodded with Foggy, and Karen laughed at this information.

A few hours later, Matt opened the door to three sets of eyes watching his every move. The moment you saw a cut on his face, you shot up. "I knew it!" You yelled, turning towards Foggy, your hand reaching out to receive your reward. Foggy groaned, handing you his money before you three finally turned your attention towards Matt, who was very confused. "So what happened this time?" You said, as Karen interjected, "Are you okay?" Matt sighed as he put his coat back on the coat rack and folded his cane. "I'm okay. Some guy was just being a prick."

Before you all could disperse back to work, Matt spoke up again. "So, what was that? When I walked in here"? His face was puzzling into confusion once again. You decided to speak up: "Ah, nothing. Just a little game between me and Fog." You smiled before going back to the front with Karen.

A few days later, the four of you were having a night out at Josie's. Which became like a ritual every night when something good happened. A sigh escaped your lips as you downed the rest of your beer, the glass clinking on the wooden table when you set it back down. "I think I'm going to get a second round. Anyone want some more?" You looked at the three of them.  A series of no's and nope's came out as you nodded, leaving them to their conversations. You made your way to the front counter, catching the attention of Josie and asking for another beer.

"Hey there." A guy in his mid-30s slides up next to you, obviously intoxicated and still trying to get a hit. "Um, hey." Your lips turned into a line as you waited for that beer. "Might I say, you look gorgeous." His hand latches onto your hip and slides down to your back. "Hey, could you not?" You immediately say as you back away.

Josie looked between the two of you before handing you the beer. You mumbled thanks before turning to leave.

"I wasn't done talking, bitch." A hand grips your wrist and yanks you back. Before things could escalate, Matt shows up and grabs you by the waist. "Hey, babe, is this guy bothering you?" He asks, and immediately you answer him. "Uh, yeah, he won't leave me alone." You cleared your throat as Matt walked up to the guy, whispering a few things to him before the guy ran off and outside the bar.

"Shit, thanks, Matt. I seriously thought he was going to do something." A breath of relief came out of your lips as Matt smiled at you. "It's okay; I don't know what I would have done if he had hurt you or something." He says, his hand still giving you comforting squeezes on your waist.

"Let's head back." He says this as he turns to leave. A blush formed on your cheeks as you walked after Matt. You didn't think of Matt in any other way than as a friend, but his touches felt so delicate, like he didn't want to break you, as if you were made of glass.

Foggy and Karen looked at the both of you. "Something happen?" You took your spot next to Karen, shaking your head as you looked back at Matt. "No, everything's fine. Just some asshole trying to get lucky." Matt spoke before he continued his conversation with Foggy. 

"Yeah, everything's fine." You mumbled, more to yourself than to anyone else.

a/n: I’m going to go on a whim here and say that writing this has actually been amazing and that would have not happened without my girl Bella, Y’ALL NEED TO CHECK HER OUT!!

let me know if y’all want more! its also been a hectic year so ignore how bad the writing is, love ya!

[totallycorny]

The Betting Game

Matthew Murdock x Fem!Reader

warnings: sexual implications, harassment, alcohol, violence, sexual assault, angst, slow burn, eventual possible smut, and of course; all the fluff you need.

Summary: Both You and Fog have a little tradition, and that includes bets. More specifically, betting on Matthew Murdock and his activities. But what happens when you become one of those bets?

Chapter List

Chapter One: Feelings Caught

[totallycorny]

GET FUCKING READY!! YA GIRL IS TRYING SO HARD NOT LET ANYTHING DISTRACT HERSELF BECAUSE WE HAVE A SERIES TO PUBLISH:

The Betting Game

Chapter One: Feelings Caught

I HOPE YOU’LL LIKE IT! (p.s. This may or may not have been inspired by a series that I love written by a wonderful woman!)

[totallycorny]

Met at a Fête

Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

warnings: implied fem!reader, mentions of bullying.

To start this week off, I thought I might write for different characters. I’ve always been a Harry Potter fan but I never really got into the Marauders Era, Until now that is. Enjoy!

headers made by me!

word count: 1070+ (I lost count after that!)

You and your family were lucky to have been invited to a party, Especially one that was hosted by the Noble House of Black.

They were the talk of the Wizarding World, Anybody who passed by Diagon Alley always seemed to be murmuring about the family.

The Blacks were just that favored and admired.

Nobody disliked them, and if you did, You would be criticized for that matter.

To be precise on the word lucky, It meant that even though your family was of wizards and witches who were pure-blood, A few of them were not. Specifically, Your grandmother. Yet your family was still invited.

Her family was muggle born, She then fell in love with a wizard and well.. You get the rest. Other pure-blood families did not like that one bit.

You’d always get bullied in Hogwarts, Which was a shame because Hogwarts grew to be your home. The only home where the bullying wasn’t that bad.

Out on the streets, You’d be shoved at and pulled by the hair. Some stuck up witches would put spells on you just to make sure you knew your place.

That all changed when Aurora, Your personal owl, Flew in with a black ribbon and a letter attached to it tied to her leg.

“Mother..!” You yelped as you got up from the rocking chair, almost falling over in the process, scrambling to grab the letter.

Footsteps thumped down the stairs as your Mother peeked her head down to see what the commotion was about. “Yes, my dear?”

You carefully turned the letter over, reading the print for a second before smiling wide. Your fingers absentmindedly opened the letter without using the letter opener.

“The Noble House of Black cordially invites you to their ball.” You whispered as you skimmed over the cursive.

You almost screamed right then and there.

All you remember that day was your mother’s frantic responses of “Let me see that letter!” And “My love, Come quick!”, You could tell this was a dream come true for her.

Now here you were, In a black gown your mother had been saving for whenever you’d go to a party or a ball like this. It fit like a charm, Even for how dusty and old it was.

“Padfoot!” A young man called as he hugged someone. You couldn’t see who the other man was, Until he stepped away.

His dark eyes is what caught your attention, They were like eclipse’s in his orbs. Padfoot, You’ve heard that before haven’t you?

A lightbulb went off in your head when it finally clicked, This was the infamous Sirius ‘Padfoot’ Black. The trickster and class clown at Hogwarts whom you’d always seen in the hallways walking with a strut.

In all honesty, He was quite a handsome man, but you also admired him for his kind nature. Even though He was a Gryffindor in a Slytherin family, He wasn’t like his family at all.

You hadn’t realized you had been staring at Sirius’ face for too long until his eyes locked onto yours.

You quickly ducked behind a couple who had been way too into themselves, Maybe he hadn’t really seen you absentmindedly staring at his face.

His handsome, gorgeous and beautiful face.

God, You really were crushing, hard.

Your parents were conversing with another family, So it’s not like you could go to them. That is until you spotted a curtain, wide and large enough to hide you from guests and specifically Sirius.

Quickly, You made your escape to the dark curtain, It’s velvety attire draping over you. A breath you didn’t know you were holding escaped your mouth.

Just as you were trying to relax, your eyes closed until you blinked, Sirius had appeared right in your face.

“Woah!” You jumped, Thumping your head against the wall as you recoiled and hissed in pain. Sirius’ lips curled into a smile as he chuckled.

“Sorry, Sorry. Couldn’t help but notice someone staring at me far too long for their own liking.” A blush crept over your cheeks, Your hand that had been soothing your head finally came down to hold other hand. Immediately fidgeting.

“I was just thinking, M’ Sorry. Didn’t realize I had been staring at you until it was too late.” You awkwardly chuckle, Shrugging off your nervousness as Sirius’ eyes scanned over your form.

His smile was giving you butterflies in your stomach, almost as if you could actually throw up butterflies. “Not to worry, I know I’m really handsome that you just can’t resist me.” A smug smile appeared on his lips as he joked, going into a silly pose just to make you laugh.

And laugh you did. A snort almost came out of your lips as your hand covered your mouth. “I think hiding behind the curtains is not proper of us.” You cleared your throat as you peeked out of the curtain, looking around to see if anyone noticed.

“Right you are,” He said as he peeks out of the curtains as well. “I’ll go first so it doesn’t look suspicious of us.” He gives you a wink as he walks off, joining a group of teens who seemed to around your age and instantly fitting right in.

He didn’t have to speak before fitting into the conversation. He was that effortless. You slowly slipped out beneath the velvet drapes and stood still by it.

“He has a character about him that everyone just loves, doesn’t he?” A taller guy spoke from beside you, Making you jump once again. Why do they always appear out of nowhere?

You realized he was talking about Sirius. “He does,” You look back at Sirius for a moment before speaking up again. “Makes me wonder how him and his family are related.” You cross your arms before looking at the young man next to you.

He nods before giving you his name, His hand outstretched. “I’m Remus, Remus Lupin.” You took his hand, giving him a firm shake before it finally clicked in your head again. “You’re moony, Right?”

He snaps his fingers as he grins. “You are correct, I guess we’re that well known hm?” He shuffles in his position, Nodding at Sirius. “Well, Time to shine, See you later church mouse.” He says as he walks away from you.

Church mouse? Confusion set on your face for a bit. “Quiet as a church mouse..” You chuckled to yourself as you sighed. Guess you had a new nickname.

Your eyes set back onto Sirius, His laughter almost echoing throughout the ballroom. You could get used to his presence, A smile tugged onto your lips as Sirius looked at you and waved at you to come on over.

You won’t mind being a church mouse, As long as you are next to him.

Thank you for reading!

[totallycorny]

STRANGER THINGS

Steve Harrington -

Window Taps and Gifts / Oneshot / Fluff

He’s Awesome / Coming Soon

Eddie Munson -

The Dream / Oneshot / Angst

Eyeball Murders / Coming Soon

She’s not you / Coming Soon

MARAUDERS / HARRY POTTER

Sirius Black -

Met at a Fête / Oneshot / Fluff

Equinox / Coming Soon

SHADOW AND BONE

Aleksander Morozova -

In the middle of the night / Coming Soon

DAREDEVIL

Matthew Murdock -

The Betting Game / Series

[totallycorny]

May switch it up in here! My interests are everywhere at the moment, so will my writing be as well!

Hope you guys don’t mind the change in fics.

What’s coming to town?:

Aleksander Morozova draft - Shadow and Bone

Sirius Black oneshot (possible series) - Marauders Era

Eddie Munson drafts - Stranger things

Steve Harrington draft - Stranger things

That is all my lovelies, have a wonderful time!

[totallycorny]

This is an interesting line for several reasons, the biggest of which is Mal’s choice of hyperbole when expressing his love for Alina. The implications of this passage are sexual in nature, this is made most obvious by the imagery of “dancing naked” and Mal isolating aspects of Alina into “parts”.

He says “even the part of you that loved him” which to me, indicates a certain level of discomfort Mal still has with Alina’s sexuality and attraction towards the Darkling. This discomfort informs his division of Alina into parts, distinguishing his perception of Alina from “the part” of her that stepped outside of that role. When this is placed alongside his insinuation of Alina’s sexual attraction, it becomes clear that Mal has difficulty reconciling the two versions of Alina that have appeared.

It’s not a coincidence that the most exaggerated example he can conjure is dancing naked on the rooftop of a palace. Referencing the Little Palace functions as a symbol of Mal’s perceptions of Grisha, where the palace is a grand example of their perceived decadence and priority to the monarchy. Throughout the book, readers will see ordinary folk expressing resentment towards the seemingly better treatment that the Grisha get. Sometimes, the Grisha are portrayed as overtly spoiled and haughty individuals as well (even though they have less freedoms and are at a great disadvantage) To Mal, Alina dancing on top the Little Palace is meant to evoke a sense of careless hedonism and excess that he resented her for earlier in the book.

The “dancing naked” part is obviously a euphemism for sex, and it predictably aligns Alina’s relationship with the Darkling with her sexuality. The Darkling comes to be associated with maturity and sensuality, he fits into the archetype of the “dark older lover” who awakens Alina to a new world. Despite the fact that they never have sex or confirm their relationship under any title, the erotic nature of their relationship is in stark contrast with the comparatively chaste and childlike relationship Malina represents (Pretty ironic considering that Mal and Alina have sex in R&R)

This fits into the narrative of purity in Shadow and Bone. Alina aligning herself with the Darkling would mean embracing pleasure, power, and sexual desire, and that is something that the narrative deems as immoral or “greedy”. Inversely, going with Mal becomes the “pure” and humble option where she forgoes power and fame for Mal’s sake. This is where Alina is divided into two halves (in Mal’s view) there is the Repressed Alina, who he knows from childhood and wants to stay with, and the Sun Summoner Alina, whose maturity and newfound strength draws her further away from him.

The former was committed to staying with Mal at the expense of herself, while the latter found fulfillment and realized desire elsewhere. Repressed Alina is characterized as a sort of virtuous and humble person (even when that is quite the opposite) whereas Sun Summoner Alina is characterized as greedy and prone to corruption. This serves the narrative of purity culture in the trilogy by eventually framing Mal as the voice of reason in response to Alina’s supposed corruption.

According to the narrative, the worst thing Alina could be is similar to the Darkling. She can’t desire power or sexual fulfillment (from anyone other than her predetermined husband) and is left in a state of immaturity once she loses her powers. She will stay in the garden of childhood with a man that could never truly recognize the multifaceted nature of her identity.

[totallycorny]

This summer we have a few options for a series!

(All of which are set in Stranger Things)

I’d like to apologize for the amount of time I was away, The writers block was wild, but I’m back and ready to roll!!

[totallycorny]

good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

[totallycorny]

this man is like a black cat OH MY GOD I LOVE HIM A LITTLE TOO MUCH

The Devil at Your Window |2: Borrowed Scarf|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 4.4k

Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty

Series Installment List & Summary

a/n: Another fluffy and flirty installment for this series! Some hurt/comfort coming up next for this series! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer @keepingitlokiii @kezibear @dorothleah @sarahskywalker-amidala

Stomping your boots on the little entry rug just inside your apartment, you attempted to knock most of the snow from off of them. You didn’t want the water to pool all over the hardwood by your door when the snow inevitably melted. Even though, admittedly, the floor in your place wasn’t in the best condition to begin with. But you always thought it added ‘character’ to the apartment.

With a sigh you leaned to your right, resting a shoulder against the wall while your left hand clutched the two bags of takeout you’d just picked up. Reaching a foot forward, you gently nudged your apartment door shut with a boot before drawing your leg back towards yourself and sluggishly removing them one at a time single-handedly. Once you’d removed both boots, you placed them on the rug to dry before pushing off the wall and taking a moment to lock your front door. 

A strong, delicious scent wafted out of the takeout bags as you made your way over towards your kitchen, your stomach rumbling hungrily in response. You knew you'd gone a little overboard ordering tonight, aware there was no way you could actually eat everything you'd picked up, but you figured whatever was left could end up as lunch tomorrow at work. Everything had just sounded too good because you’d been starving when you ordered it.

Setting both bags down on your kitchen counter, you headed towards your fridge and swung the door open, grabbing a beer from off the top shelf. You twisted the cap off, tossing it into the garbage as you passed it. Taking a drink from the bottle, you opened a cabinet with your left hand and pulled down a plate, closing the cabinet door with your elbow before spinning on the spot. Heading back towards the counter where the bags of takeout resided, you set both your plate and beer bottle onto the surface. With your hands free, you immediately began to tear the bags of food open, rifling around in them and pulling out one of the burritos and setting it onto your plate. Next you dug out the container of rice before grabbing the chips and salsa, setting them on the counter before opening the nearby drawer and pulling out a spoon. In a rush to eat, especially after having made the trek around the corner to pick up your food in all the snow, you began to quickly plate both items hungrily.

Once everything was ready, you grabbed your beer in one hand and your plate of food in the other before making your way out of your kitchen and over towards the living room, leaving the mess on your counter to deal with once you’d eaten. As you began to lower yourself onto the couch, you reached forward and set your beer onto the coffee table. Settling down onto the cushions with a contented sigh, you balanced your plate of food on your lap and picked up the television remote from the arm of the couch. Impatiently you turned the TV on with one hand while beginning to unwrap your burrito with the other, too hungry to wait to eat until you’d started your show. Tearing off a large bite of food, you opened up Netflix while you chewed, fully prepared to continue binging the series you’d been watching. Though the sound of a few loud raps gave you pause before you could push play.

Swallowing down the bite of food you’d had in your mouth, your brows furrowed in confusion. It was late, almost eight o’clock. You’d been held over at the office today, and then the snow-laden sidewalks had slowed your walk home from work afterwards, making your walk take longer than usual. After getting out of your dress clothes, you’d decided you were too tired to cook this evening and ordered food instead. Which was why you were now having such a late dinner on a Tuesday evening. 

But it was Tuesday evening. Which meant you weren’t expecting visitors.

The knock sounded again and your eyes narrowed as you lowered the burrito to the plate in your lap and set the television remote back onto the armrest of the couch. That’s when it hit you. There wasn’t someone knocking at your door, there was someone knocking at your window .

Your head spun to the right instantly. Sure enough, the Devil clad in all black was standing on your fire escape. The moment your eyes landed on him, he raised a single gloved hand and waved, a smile forming beneath his mask. Eyes going wide, your mouth once again fell open at the sight of him standing there so casually on your fire escape in the cold of the night. 

It had been just over a week ago since the snowstorm that had led him to fall onto your fire escape when you’d first met him. The same night where you’d cuddled with him for warmth when the power had gone out in your building before accidentally falling asleep on him. But he’d snuck out of your apartment before you’d even woken, and you hadn’t heard from him since, even if you had seen him in some blurry photos on the news. 

But it wasn’t as if you’d truly ever expected to see him again after that strange night where you recalled staying up and talking with him well past two in the morning. Sure, you’d hoped he’d stop by again–fantasized about it maybe, especially with how good your mind kept recalling him looking in person in all that tight-fitting black. Those blurry cell phone images of him truly didn’t do him justice. But they were just that. Fantasies. The conversation had flowed and you swore you’d thought he was being a little flirtatious, but you figured that was probably his ‘thing.’ It didn’t mean anything. At least, not to him. And you’d scolded yourself repeatedly every time your brain decided to remind you of him over the past few days because that encounter shouldn’t have meant anything to you, either.

So why the hell was he suddenly standing on your fire escape now gesturing for you to open the window?

Still feeling entirely confused, you shifted your plate from off of your lap and onto the coffee table next to your beer. Rising to your feet, you made your way the few steps over to your window. As you moved, your eyes never left the Devil’s face, and you noticed how the smile never left his.

Reaching out, you unlatched the locks on your window and pushed it upwards. A cold rush of air burst into your apartment instantly and you shivered. Your eyes remained focused on the Devil’s face, a rush of questions racing through your mind as you took in the now almost cocky grin on his lips. Eventually your mouth blurted out the first question it could before you could stop it.

“What’re you doing here?” you asked him.

He raised a gloved hand up, clutching at his chest dramatically as he took a partial step back from the window. “Ouch,” he replied. “Certainly not the greeting I expected.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head as the bitter chill of the night continued to bite at your skin, “that’s not how I meant it. I meant, why are you here? I didn’t expect to see you again unless I needed saving or something.”

“Maybe I just missed my favorite space heater?” he teased.

Heat immediately flamed at your cheeks. Even if he was joking, his words still had an effect on you. And the way his smile grew into more of a smirk in the brief silence that followed wasn’t helping.

“In all seriousness I came to return this,” he said, holding up his other hand.

Your eyes darted down at the movement, not having noticed he had been holding something in his other hand. It was a bunched up ball of fabric with a bright blue plaid pattern.

“Oh my God,” you breathed out, eyes widening as realization dawned on you. “My scarf? You have my scarf?” A laugh bubbled up out of you as you glanced back up at his half-obscured face. “I wondered where that had gotten to! I thought I’d left it at the office somewhere.”

An almost sheepish smile tugged at his mouth now as he shook his head. “I uh, I borrowed it. It was freezing that night when I left your apartment and you’re right, this suit doesn’t offer much protection in general. I figured you wouldn’t mind because I intended to return it the next night, but well, I may have gotten a little…distracted with some things this past week.”

“Yeah, it definitely seems like you’ve been keeping busy from what I’ve heard in the news,” you told him.

The cocky smile easily returned to his face as his head tilted a little to the side. Your heart skittered at the sight and you tried to ignore it.

“Keeping tabs on me?” he asked. “I'm flattered.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your breath was coming in a little faster now, too. Really though, it wasn't fair how that deep gravelly voice of his paired with all those muscles and his charm could get your pulse racing with such little effort. 

“Do you maybe want to come in?” you asked him when another harsh breeze blew into your apartment. “To get warm for a moment? Or do you have some super secret vigilante business that you urgently need to attend to?”

He chuckled in response, the warm sound drawing a little smile onto your own lips. So you could still make him laugh. That shouldn't have made you as pleased as it did.

“It's currently quiet in the city,” he replied. “Which is why I had time to stop by and return your scarf. But if I'm not interrupting your evening, I wouldn't mind getting warm for a moment.”

“You're not interrupting anything,” you assured him, stepping away from the window and waving him inside. “It's not often I get the opportunity to help out Hell’s Kitchen's literal superhero.”

“Well now,” the Devil began as he slipped effortlessly through the window, “that title might be undeserved.”

You gasped dramatically, catching the smile on his face just before he turned around. His gloved hands raised up, grabbing onto the window and closing it after himself, immediately cutting off the harsh wind that had been blowing into your apartment. 

“You? Being humble?” you teased, watching as he turned back towards you still grinning. “Now that’s a surprise.”

“Are you implying I have an ego, Miss…?” he asked, holding your balled up scarf in his hand out towards you.

You reached out, grabbing the scarf from him as you shook your head and waved a finger at him. “Uh uh, no. But nice try,” you told him. “If I can’t know your name, why should I give you mine?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he playfully teased back, “maybe so I could properly thank you for letting me steal your scarf for a week? Especially since you’re not the one going out at night committing countless crimes and actually having a need to keep your identity hidden?”

Turning, you headed back towards your coffee table to set the scarf down onto it. You’d forgotten just how enjoyable the verbal back and forth with him had been the night he’d fallen onto your fire escape. He was funny but he was witty, too. 

“You can thank me just fine without a name, Devil,” you pointed out. “Besides, you just admitted to being a criminal. Probably not a good idea giving my name out to a criminal.”

The Devil shook his head, a smile stretched wide across his face when you glanced back at him. One of your brows rose curiously onto your forehead.

“What?” you asked.

“I mean, what does your name matter when I know where you live?” he questioned. “And if you’re that worried about your safety with me, you should probably stop inviting me into your apartment to get warm as often as you do.”

You rolled your eyes, waving a dismissive hand at him. “It’s not like I’m actually worried about my safety around you,” you countered. “Otherwise I would’ve called the police on you that first night, not let you in. And I certainly wouldn’t have invited you in a second time, either.”

The Devil’s masked head cocked to the side, the corner of his smirking lip twitching. It was impossible not to stare at his mouth when everything else was covered up. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“So then why did you let me in a second time?” he asked.

His gravelly voice had somehow pitched to something lower when he’d spoken–something that almost sounded borderline flirtatious. Again. And it only had the hair on your forearms raising, goosebumps prickling along your skin. For a moment you just stood there in your living room, blinking hard a few times as your brain fumbled to come up with a witty retort. In that brief hesitation, you saw his smirk grow.

“Maybe I just have a thing for strays,” you finally shot back.

His lips parted in surprise, the smirk vanishing from his face. A pleased smile made its way onto your own in return because you’d clearly taken him off guard. He didn’t seem like the type to be surprised that easily.

“Are–are you calling me a stray?” he asked in mock-offense.

His surprise had caused that deep, fake voice of his to falter when he spoke, allowing you to catch what you assumed was his real voice for the first time. You liked the sound of it.

“I mean technically I did feed you, give you water, and a place to get warm,” you joked, laughing lightly as you replied. “And well–” you gestured a hand at him standing across your living room, “–you came back.”

“Yeah,” he said, his own hand gesturing to the scarf you’d set down on the coffee table, “to return the scarf I borrowed.”

“Stole,” you corrected him. 

A mental image of him dressed in his entirely black outfit with your blue plaid scarf bundled around his neck as he jumped from roof to roof suddenly surfaced in your mind. You couldn’t help but giggle at the visual of it. The Devil took a few steps towards you at the sound, his boots thudding heavily against your worn wood floors. That easy smile was back on his mouth again.

“What’s so funny?” he asked curiously.

“I was just thinking,” you told him, “that the bad guys on the streets this past week must have thought you were trying something new fashion-wise. Or that you got dressed in the dark with you running around wearing my scarf.”

He nodded his head, a chuckle slipping out of him. “Well maybe I did,” he replied. “Get dressed in the dark, I mean. Or something like that.”

You paused for a moment, laughter subsiding as one brow rose up onto your forehead. What a curious thing to say.

Out of the corner of your eye you caught sight of the extra takeout food sitting on your counter. You remembered how he’d admitted previously that he didn’t keep much food in his fridge and you nervously began gnawing on your bottom lip. Would it be weird if you offered him dinner? You did have extra, after all. And you had a sinking feeling that when he finished his night out fighting crime–or whatever the hell he called it–he was probably not about to find something to eat.

For some reason that realization made you a little sad. How often did Hell’s Kitchen’s hero actually take care of himself? Was there even anyone who looked out for him? After everything he did for this city and the people in it, surely he deserved that.

“You know, I was actually sitting down to eat dinner when you showed up,” you began, though you abruptly quieted when he took a few steps back towards the window.

“You’re right, I noticed,” he replied, his tone suddenly serious. “I’ll let you get back to your night.”

“No, no,” you said quickly, taking a step towards him.

He stopped, his head once again tilting to the side. It seemed like he was eyeing you curiously beneath that black mask even though you couldn’t actually see his eyes. His lips were set in a straight line as he waited for you to continue, all joking suddenly gone from him. Had he really thought you were kicking him out?

“I actually was going to ask if you’d like something to eat,” you told him. “Something more than some protein bars this time.”

There was a few seconds of silence before he spoke.

“You’re…asking me to stay and eat with you?” he questioned, surprised.

“Yes,” you answered.

Another few seconds of silence passed and you figured he was pondering the offer. Then gradually, his posture changed and a smirk reappeared on that tempting mouth of his.

“Are you trying to feed me so that I’ll come back again?” he teased. “Like the stray you think I am?”

Heat flamed at your cheeks, your eyes going wide at his accusation. “No!” you answered, shaking your head. “No, I just remembered you saying you didn’t have much food at your place. And I get the feeling you skip dinner most nights because of running around the city as the Devil.”

“Well they do say breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” he countered cheekily.

You rolled your eyes at him yet again, though you couldn’t resist the smile that returned to your face as you made your way around your couch and back towards your kitchen. 

“Okay, well I’d like to make sure you’re not malnourished,” you said, reaching up into a cabinet and pulling down a glass. “Or dehydrated.”

You stepped over to the sink, filling the glass you’d just pulled out with water from the faucet. Vaguely you were aware of the Devil making his way into your kitchen as you did.

“What makes you think I’m malnourished?” he asked curiously.

You shook your head, laughing lightly. “Please, there’s barely any body fat on you,” you answered, turning off the faucet before turning around.

You almost dropped the glass of water onto the floor with how surprisingly close he had been standing behind you. Eyes going wide, you stared up at the masked face of his that was now only a foot away from yours.

“Been observing me that closely, have you?” that deep voice of his rumbled out.

Swallowing hard, both of your hands tightened around the glass of water. Your mouth felt like it had gone dry, your heart picking up its pace inside your chest. A slow, satisfied smirk twisted the corner of his mouth as he reached a hand out, gently grabbing the glass of water from your hands. 

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“Mhmm,” you hummed out.

He turned around, heading back towards your living room while taking a sip of water from the glass. Letting out a quiet exhale, you quickly ran a hand over your forehead and tried to collect yourself. He should not be able to affect you so easily.

“I admittedly don’t have much time,” the Devil called over his shoulder to you. “So I probably shouldn’t stay long.”

“That’s–” you began, shaking your head lightly as you tried to remember how to form a sentence, “–that’s okay. How quickly do you think you can eat a burrito?”

Pushing yourself off the counter you’d apparently fallen back against, you headed over to the bag of takeout where you’d left it. From your living room, you heard the Devil laugh.

“My old college roommate has asked me that far too many times before,” he told you.

“Oh?” you asked, digging through the bag for the second burrito. “So the Devil went to college?”

You glanced up at him as you pulled the neatly wrapped package from out of the brown paper bag. The amused smile was gone from his face, replaced with that serious expression once more. You frowned in response. You'd clearly done something wrong.

“I probably shouldn’t have told you that about me,” he mused quietly.

“It’s alright,” you assured him, making your way back over to him. “The number of people who’ve gone to college and had a roommate is vast. I’m not going to guess your true identity based on that alone. It’s not like you told me where you went to school or what you studied.”

You came to a stop in front of him before slowly holding the wrapped burrito out towards him. He stood there in silence, a muscle jumping in his cheek as if he was grinding his teeth. You almost felt bad for calling out his minor slip up. You hoped it wouldn’t suddenly keep him away, because admittedly you’d found yourself enjoying this second unexpected visit of his, too. You kind of hoped there might be a third one.

“I suppose you’re right,” he said softly.

Hesitantly his black gloved hand rose up, cautiously accepting the food from your outstretched one. Despite you joking earlier, he actually did remind you a bit of a stray. Especially with how guarded he became if you touched on the wrong topic, like he was ready to bolt right back out of your window if you did or said the wrong thing. 

“Why don’t we sit?” you suggested.

Making your way back over to the couch, you heard his heavy footsteps following after you. You returned to the spot on the couch where you’d been initially while the Devil sat further away from you, all the way on the opposite end of it. Trying to hide your disappointment at the obvious space he’d put between the pair of you–one that hadn’t been there last time–you picked your plate back up from off of the coffee table, setting it onto your lap. 

“So why exactly don’t you have long to eat?” you asked him cautiously.

Truthfully you were afraid the answer was because of you. Because he didn’t want to risk giving too much of himself away. Or that maybe now that he had returned your scarf, he had no more reason to be here anymore.

“Because something might be about to happen in the city,” he answered, unwrapping the burrito and drawing it up to his mouth. “And I might be needed.”

You sat there dumbfounded at his response, your hand hovering over the burrito on your plate. Yet again it was another odd thing for him to say. How could he possibly know that while he was sitting here in your apartment talking to you?

“Okay,” you said slowly, watching him tear off a large bite of his food and chew it quickly. “Do the criminals around here have a schedule you got a hold of somehow?” you asked, half-joking. “At quarter to nine this evening they’ve penciled in some nefarious activities or something?”

The Devil huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he swallowed down another bite of food. “No, nothing like that,” he answered with a mysterious grin.

He tore another bite from the burrito in his hands, your brows both raising onto your forehead at how quickly he was making his way through it. How often had he downed burritos in college in a rush? You found yourself curious, wanting to know more about him–who he was outside of the Devil–but you knew better than to ask. Surely a single question that was a little too personal would have him running off like a scared cat. 

“Well that’s…an oddly cryptic comment then,” you told him, picking your own burrito up and drawing it towards your mouth. “But I’ll just chalk it up to keeping your identity secret, I guess.”

“Much appreciated,” he replied around a mouthful of food.

Trying to stifle the giggle threatening to slip out of you at how adorably comical he looked stuffing his face with that mask on, you took a bite of your own food and began to chew. A comfortable silence settled between the pair of you for a minute as you both ate, your mind trying to work up a safe topic of discussion. Though before you had a chance to think of one, you noticed him abruptly stiffen on the other end of your couch. Your eyes narrowed curiously at him, watching as his head darted back towards your living room window, shifting around a few times like he'd heard something.

“What?” you asked him cautiously.

Your head darted over your shoulder, looking out the same window he was. Though you couldn’t see anything.

“I have to go,” he said.

You glanced back at him and saw that he’d abruptly risen from your sofa. Brows knitting together, you quickly placed your burrito back onto your plate. The Devil started to swiftly make his way back to your window without another word.

“Wait, what’s going on?” you asked after him. 

Hurriedly, you set your plate on the coffee table before scrambling up to your feet and following after him. He spun around towards you once he’d reached your window, a frown tugging the corners of his mouth downwards.

“Someone’s in danger, I can’t explain how I know,” he said in a rush. “But I have to go. Thank you for unknowingly letting me borrow your scarf and for feeding me.” He held up the almost finished burrito in his hand, a smile briefly ghosting over his lips before it disappeared. “A second time.”

“Of–of course,” you stammered out, watching in puzzlement as he turned back around and quickly opened the window. “Are you going to be okay?”

With a grace you could never muster, he climbed back through your window, stepping out onto your fire escape. One last cheeky smirk was on his lips as he turned around and eyed you through the opening.

“Are you worried about me, Miss…?” he asked.

You bit your lip, trying to fight back the smile threatening to break out across your face. “Nice try yet again,” you told him off-handedly. “And what if I was?” you shot back. “What if someone in Hell’s Kitchen was actually out there worrying about you? What then?”

“Well,” he answered, that cheeky smirk still on his lips, “then I’d tell them not to worry about me. Because I’m a big boy and I can take care of myself.”

Lips parting in surprise at his response, you watched as he briskly turned around. And then, with a cat-like grace, he flung himself over the edge of your fire escape, burrito and all.

[totallycorny]

YES PLEASE!!! I WOULD BE BEGGING FOR HIM TO GET MY FLOOR DIRTY AND MY CARPET WET!!

(please let me touch those abs, I’m so touch starved.)

Just had an idea for part three of The Devil at Your Window. Hear me out y'all:

Soaking wet, injured, black suit Matt.

please climb through my window

[totallycorny]

it’s okay they love him 🫶

They're being chased by a monster and yet their first instinct at hearing Dustin singing on the radio is to judge him. I love them so much.

[totallycorny]

hi!! before i spill my ask i just wanted to say how much i love your blog! i truly think you’re one of the best writers not only in this fandom, but this platform, so thank you for sharing your amazing work with us <3

i was wondering if you could write something about reader and steve falling asleep on the couch after a movie night, and steve picks the reader up and carries her to bed? extra ooey gooey for stevie <3

thank you 😭🧡

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

But Steve’s house was warm and so much quieter than yours, one of the upsides to the lack of parental supervision. The living room was lit by the glow of a lamp in the furthest corner, a yellow peach blanket that settled over the couch you were lying on.

Steve was a solid warmth behind you, his arm a comforting weight over the dip of your waist and his breath blew gently on the nape of your neck, a rhythmic thing that lulled you deeper into him and the sofa cushions. You weren’t sure what movie was on now, you’d lost track. You were kiss drunk, lips bitten shades of pink and red from Steve’s affections and now you were surrounded by him, swaddled in one of his old high school sweaters and a pair of his boxers he certainly wasn’t getting back.

And when his hand slipped inside of your shirt and his thumb drew lazy, nonsensical patterns over the soft of your belly, you didn’t even worry about sucking it in. You hummed, a greedy, languid sound that Steve laughed breathily at and your eyes slipped closed before the title scene was finished playing on the television screen.

When you opened them again, your vision was fuzzy at the edges, the credits rolling on a black TV. Steve was gone from behind you, managing to move without waking you but his hand on your bare ankle stirred you from sleep. He was perched on his heels on the floor, his eyes warmer than the room as he looked at you, a lovesick expression that made your stomach tumble in the most lovely way.

“Baby,” his voice was soft, scratchy and sleep slurred, like he’d fallen asleep just like you had. He had a cushion crease across one cheek, the collar of his old T-shirt stretched out to show off a collarbone. “You wanna go to bed?”

You made a noise, neither agreeing nor arguing, but you buried your face into the couch all the same, nose smushed against the fabric. You heard Steve laugh, loving the sound, adoring the way his hand smoothed up the line of your calf even more. His fingers rubbed at the sensitive skin behind the crook of your knee.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he coaxed. “You’ll be much comfier in bed.”

Steve didn’t carry you to bed, although you were sure he would if you’d have asked. He did haul you off of the sofa though, making a show of it as you both groaned and smothered your laughter. And when you finally made it to the foot of the stairs, Steve stood behind you the entire time, his hands on your hips, your waist, guiding you into his room where your pillow lay next to his.

[totallycorny]

“Different? Yeah, well, my hair was buzzed. And I didn’t have these sweet ol’ tatties.”

[totallycorny]

all these fucking reblogs 😭😭

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

[totallycorny]

my friends jerk off to more avant-garde concepts than your friends do

[totallycorny]

The Dream

an Eddie Munson x Reader Angst

{image and dividers do not belong to me, credits to original owners.}

Something was dripping onto your forehead, A little wrinkle formed on your forehead as you slowly opened your eyes. Expecting to be met with the familiar ceiling you saw before falling asleep to.

But what you saw instead was a dark sky. Shrouded with grey clouds and dead trees, You gasped and got up swiftly, Your eyes darting everywhere to make sure that you were alone.

“No, No, No.. Please no..” You scrambled to your feet as you looked around once more, It was the upside down. It’s gloomy skies filled with dark grey clouds and red lightning striked down in various places. This had to be a dream.

You so desperately need this to be a dream.

A snap of a twig made you snap your neck towards the sound, Anticipating of what it could be. Instead, You we’re met with the same brown eyes you’ve grown to love, See the same eyes back then cloud with white.

“Eddie?..” A whisper managed to escape your lips. He looked the same as he did that day, The day he died. Except, The wounds that would have been dried up and form crusted blood around them seemed to be continuously leaking blood.

A deep red gushing out with no means to stop, Your eyes kept staring at them, Not turning away or nothing but just staring. This had to be a dream.

The sound of your name snapped you out of your trance, You finally looked up at Eddie. His brown eyes still as beautiful as ever, It really made you want to break down. You hadn’t seen those eyes in over a year.

“Sweetheart..” He said as he walked over to you, closing the distance between the two of you. You shook in your place, The feeling of Eddie’s hand on your cheek made you shiver. It was cold, deprived of any warmth, of any blood.

“You’re not real.” Eddie smiled at you, Disregarding what you had said as he continued to lean in, His forehead finally connecting to yours. “I’ve missed you.” His hand continuing to stroke your cheek, his arm snaking its way around your waist, grasping a strong hold onto you.

“You’re dead, Eddie, Please..” Suddenly his delicate strokes were not so nice anymore, His fingernails digging into the side of your waist. You winced in reply.

“I am dead.” His voice sounded sinister, The ambience of the Upside Down drowned out as you looked back up at Eddie. You were met with a devilish smirk, Nothing you had seen before.

It wasn’t like Eddie, This was something dark. “Eddie?” His fingernails continued to dig into your side, You gasped as he leaned in close.

“And it’s all your fault.” A laugh bubbling out, His breath fanning over your face. Your eyes widened as the gap between you two closed, His lips sucking in yours.

They were cold, crusted, and the kiss was sudden. You wanted to kiss back but this wasn’t Eddie, His kisses never felt like this. You pushed him away, Your face contorting into disbelief.

When he jerked his head back up, It wasn’t Eddie anymore. It was Vecna, In all of his form and glory.

And then you woke up, A cold sweat collecting at your forehead as you shuffled in your sheets, looking around to see if you were back in your bed. You breathed in heavily, and wouldn’t stop. You were hyperventilating.

Tears slipped out of your eyes as your knees collected to your chest, Your arms wrapping around them as you finally let out a broken sob.

You couldn’t stop crying, not until you finally got up and stepped towards your closet. Skimming through the items of clothing until you found the Metallica shirt Eddie had let you ‘borrow’ one day.

You held it to your nose and sniffed in the lingering smell of Eddie’s cologne that was barely there.

“I’ve missed you too..”

Angst is the way to go for 2024, Happy New Years MWAHAHHA!!!