Emma Stone's Recent Selfie

Emma Stone's Recent Selfie ❤️

"It's not poisoned, is it?"

BWAHAHAHAHA. So glad she said that. Atta girl. No matter how hot the guy, no matter how delectable the dessert, never let 'em assume that a little chocolate and sugar will give you amnesia. Especially after that spectacular first meeting.

That being said, a tasty tiramisu offered up with a charming apology can go a long way.

Sooooo, now she's got to write up the article. Will that be before or after she eats his confection.....

And Matt's got to get back to his basil. In some cultures basil is considered an aphrodisiac...

Looking forward to Chapter 4!

Cooking Up Love, Chapter 3

Pairing: Chef!Matt Murdock x F!Journalist!Reader

Rating: T (for now, might change, might not)

Story Summary: Here

Warnings/Tags: Hallmark levels of fluffy, cheesy goodness (and speed that their relationship develops, lol), no use of Y/N, Matt is not a vigilante, more tags to come as the story develops

Word Count: ~2500

A/N: Thanks again to everyone who has liked/commented on/reblogged this so far! Enjoy this next installment!

(Also cross-posted to AO3.)

Tag List: @yarrystyleeza @hailey-murdock @mattkinsella @bellaxgiornata @danzer8705 @chezagnes @shouldbestudying41

You were in the break room at the Bulletin the next day brewing your morning coffee and wondering how you were going to tell Ellison that you had bombed the interview with Chef Murdock when Skyler, your work BFF who handled the Lifestyle section of the paper, poked her head in. "There's this incredibly hot guy out front asking for you," she said excitedly. "Do you have a secret boyfriend you haven't told me about?"

You shook your head with a light laugh, wondering who it was that had come to see you. "No, definitely not. Bring whoever it is to the conference room and tell them that I'll be there in a second, will you, please?"

"Sure thing!"

After Skyler left you finished making your coffee then headed to the conference room, freezing in the doorway as you spotted the absolute last person you had ever expected to see again. "Chef Murdock."

Chef Murdock's head turned towards you, the red lenses of his glasses reflecting your look of shock at seeing him. Today he was wearing jeans and a light gray T-shirt, which made him seem vastly more approachable than the red chef's coat and black pants of the previous afternoon… and inexplicably even hotter.

"Um, hi," he said. "May we talk?"

You nodded warily. "Sure."

You shut the door behind you, purposely not asking him to sit. "So, come to berate me some more?"

Chef Murdock had the decency to look chagrined. "Actually, I came to apologize for my behavior towards you yesterday and ask if you'd be willing to reschedule our interview."

Your eyebrows raised. "You came to apologize ?"

Chef Murdock nodded and held a covered container out towards you. "This is for you."

You took the container and peeked inside. "You brought me tiramisu?"

Chef Murdock shrugged, a shy smile forming on his face. "I was kind of hoping you'd accept it as a peace offering."

"It's not poisoned, is it?"

Chef Murdock chuckled. "Let me just say that I'm pretty sure I didn't accidentally dust the top with cyanide instead of cocoa powder when I made it this morning."

You couldn't help but smile at Chef Murdock's joke. "Well I'm no expert on poisons, but I'm pretty sure cyanide isn't supposed to be brown."

Chef Murdock's expression grew serious as he said your name. "I was extremely rude yesterday and my actions towards you were uncalled for, and for that I am very deeply sorry and hope you'll forgive me."

You studied him for a moment. He seemed genuinely contrite, despite you not being able to see his eyes.

Finally you sighed and set the container on the conference room table. "In that case, I accept your apology… and your 'sorry for being a pompous asshole' tiramisu."

Chef Murdock huffed out a laugh. "Thank you."

"Will this afternoon work for you for our interview? Same time as yesterday?" 

Chef Murdock nodded. "Yeah, that'll work."

"Great." That would actually give you time to prepare.

Chef Murdock hesitated. "So I'll… see you this afternoon, then?"

You nodded. "Here, I'll walk you out. Let me just put this in the refrigerator first."

You quickly went to the break room before returning to escort Chef Murdock back to the elevator. "Want me to just call the restaurant when I get there?"

"Oh, actually, let me give you my cell number," Chef Murdock replied. "You can text me when you're nearby."

"Okay." You pulled out your phone and added Chef Murdock as a contact, typing in his number as he recited it to you. "I'll see you this afternoon, then."

Chef Murdock nodded. "Thank you again."

"No problem."

You waited until Chef Murdock left then went back to your desk to begin your research. 

Skyler immediately ran over to you. "So who was the hottie?"

You glanced up at her. "Oh, that was the chef Ellison asked me to interview yesterday. Something had come up so he needed to reschedule."

Skyler huffed out a laugh. "I wouldn't mind sampling his cuisine, if you know what I mean."

You shook your head with a smile. "I've gotta get some research done for my article, so I'll talk to you later, 'kay?"

"Yeah, I've gotta run anyway. I'm covering some fancy meeting that some rich old ladies' society is holding this morning and I don't want to be late."

As Skyler went to grab her purse from her own desk you ran another internet search on Chef Murdock, scrolling through the search results and pausing as you found a link to an old Bulletin article.

Local Boy, 9, Seriously Injured in Heroic Rescue Attempt

An attempt at saving a life changed another forever yesterday when Matthew Murdock, age 9 of Hell's Kitchen, was seriously injured after he prevented another person from being hit by a vehicle. Witnesses say that the boy came to the rescue of a man when a chemical truck overturned, causing an as-yet-identified substance to splash into the boy's eyes.

"He's a hero," said one eyewitness. "Didn't even hesitate, just jumped right into action to push that man out of the way."

"He should be commended," said another, "and his parents applauded for raising such a brave young man."

The boy's father, local boxing legend 'Battlin' Jack Murdock, declined to comment other than to say that his son is in critical, but stable, condition. 

You remembered Chef Murdock saying that his father had passed shortly after his accident, so next you looked up Jack Murdock, sucking in a breath at the news headline on your computer screen.

Local Boxing Legend Killed In Apparent Mob Hit

You quickly scanned the article -- apparently Chef Murdock's father had been beaten and shot after a boxing match against Carl 'Crusher' Creel and his murder never officially solved, although it was suspected that mob boss Roscoe Sweeney had been behind the hit.

You huffed out a breath. How awful. It was no wonder that your statement about how proud Chef Murdock's parents must have been of him had touched a nerve.

You made a few more notes and wrote down some other questions to ask Chef Murdock, looking up as Ellison stopped by your desk. 

"How'd the interview go yesterday?" he asked.

"Actually, something came up while I was there and Chef Murdock asked me to reschedule," you replied, deciding to leave out the details of what exactly had happened. "I'm meeting with him this afternoon instead."

Ellison nodded. "Okay, excellent. Let me know how it goes."

"Will do."

You finished up some other articles that you had due so you could focus your attention on Chef Murdock, completing the last one right as it was time to leave.

You grabbed your tiramisu out of the staff refrigerator and told Ellison you were leaving to go to Daredevil. 

You made a quick stop at home to drop off your dessert since it was on your way then headed to the restaurant, feeling much more prepared than you had the previous day. 

"So how'd it go?" Foggy asked as Matt entered the kitchen at Daredevil. "Were you able to reschedule the interview?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah, we're meeting this afternoon. Same time as yesterday."

Foggy huffed out a relieved breath. "So how much did you have to grovel?"

Matt chuckled. "I made tiramisu for her this morning."

Foggy whistled. "Wow, pulling out the big guns."

Matt moved to wash his hands and put on an apron. "Come on, we've got a lot of prep to do for tonight's service."

He and Foggy set to work prepping ingredients for that night's dinner service, Matt's mind occasionally wandering to you and his upcoming interview. 

He had spent a few hours after dinner service the night before listening to transcripts of previous articles you had written, and he could tell that his initial assessment of you had been completely wrong. Your attention to detail in your articles showed that you clearly took pride in your work and had painstakingly researched each and every subject you had written about.

"...If you keep cutting up that basil you're going to get pesto," Foggy said suddenly.

Matt stopped cutting, realizing that the basil he was supposed to be chiffonading was now pretty much macerated. "Shit. "

Foggy chuckled. "You okay, buddy?"

Matt shook his head, trying to clear it. "I'm fine, I'm just…"

"Nervous?"

Matt remained silent.

Foggy patted him on the shoulder. "Just turn on that Murdock charm of yours and you'll be fine."

Matt's phone chimed in his pocket. "New text message."

Matt fished his phone out and tapped at the notification.

"Hi, Chef Murdock, just letting you know that I'll be by the restaurant in about 5 minutes, " his phone read out to him.

"I'll finish up here," Foggy said. "You got this, Matty." 

Matt huffed out a breath. "I hope so."

He took his apron off and went to wash his hands again, then headed up front right as you were walking up.

He unlocked the door and let you in, noticing your heartbeat pick up nervously. "Hi, thanks for coming."

"Hi," you replied.

Matt gestured to a nearby table. "Here, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?"

"Um, some water would be nice, please."

Matt nodded. "Sure thing. Just a second."

He returned to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of water glasses and a bottle of cold, filtered water before returning to you.

He poured some water into one of the glasses before setting it in front of you. "Here you go."

"Thank you," you replied.

Matt poured himself some water before setting the bottle down on the table and taking the seat across from you.

He could hear you tapping at your phone screen. "Um, do you mind if I record this? It helps me with direct quotes and stuff."

Matt shook his head. "No, that's fine."

"Okay, great." You tapped at your phone screen and stated your name, the date, and the time. "Interviewing Chef Matthew Murdock at Daredevil, take 1."

You cleared your throat. "Chef Murdock, thank you for taking the time to meet with me."

"It's my pleasure," Matt replied.

"So to start, why don't you tell me a bit about yourself."

"Well, I was born and raised by my dad here in Hell's Kitchen," Matt said.

"He was a boxer, right?" you asked. 

Aha. Definitely did her research today. "That's right, 'Battlin Jack Murdock'. He didn't have the best fight record, but to me he was the greatest boxer of all time."

"So what made you want to be a chef?"

"I was in an accident when I was 9," Matt said. He wasn't sure how much you knew about the details of it but decided to just go ahead and give you the full story -- well, almost the full story. "A chemical truck collided with a car and overturned, and there was this old man who would have been crushed if I hadn't pushed him out of the way. Unfortunately while I was pushing him out of the way I fell and some of the chemicals got into my eyes, which blinded me."

"I'm very sorry to hear that," you said sympathetically.

Matt shook his head. "My palate became very… sensitive after that and nothing anyone else ever made tasted right."

His other remaining senses had also become extremely sensitive, but that wasn't relevant to the current conversation. "Anyway, my father died when I was 11 and I was sent to live in an orphanage run by the local diocese." He smiled wryly. "You can imagine how the food was there."

You let out a light laugh. "Oh I can guess, especially for a picky eater."

"Well the nuns quickly got tired of dealing with my dietary needs, but then again they weren't going to let me starve so eventually they hired someone to teach me how to make my own meals."

Stick had taught Matt how to cook using his instincts and use his remaining senses to identify the freshness of ingredients but had abruptly quit when Matt had made him a cake as a thank-you. Clearly you're not learning, he had said after tasting it, in which case I have nothing more to teach you.

Matt shook his head. "I started developing my own recipes after that, then after I graduated high school I decided to enter culinary school, where I met my business partner.

"After we graduated we were both offered positions as line cooks at Landman & Zack over in Manhattan, but we decided to open a restaurant together instead. We stayed open a few years then closed it and reopened as Daredevil."

What he didn't say was that Nelson and Murdock had been a mild success until one bad review had nearly tanked both Matt's reputation and his friendship with Foggy. 

"Daredevil is a very interesting name for a restaurant. How did you come up with that?"

"One of my college professors referred to me as a 'daredevil' chef once, and it kind of stuck with me." Matt's lips quirked up into a smile as he waved a hand around. "And after all, we are in Hell's Kitchen…"

You huffed out a light laugh, your demeanor becoming more relaxed. "That's very true."

You continued asking him questions, both of you relaxing more as the interview went on.

Matt was telling you a story about the time one of his culinary school classmates almost set their hair on fire while trying to flambé some bananas for a bananas foster cheesecake when he heard Karen walk up.

"Hey, Matt," Karen said. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but we're opening in 10 minutes."

You let out a slight gasp. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize how long we had been talking. I didn't mean to take up so much of your time, Chef Murdock."

Matt shook his head. "It's quite alright, I finished most of my prep work before you arrived." 

You stopped your recording and gathered your things. "Thank you for your time."

"It was my pleasure," Matt replied honestly. "Let me know if you need anything else from me for your article."

"Okay, I'll be in touch if I do."

"Have a good evening."

"You too."

Matt waited as you left, your heartbeat growing fainter the further you got from the restaurant.

Karen turned to him. "Now, was that so bad?"

Matt shook his head. You had been professional, yet warm and welcoming -- which he still wasn't sure he deserved after the way he had treated you the previous afternoon. "No, actually, it wasn't."

Karen nudged him with her elbow. "See? I told you. Now come on, let's get ready to open."

Andrew Garfield photographed by Mark Seliger for Vanity Fair Oscar Portrait 

A little over a decade ago, actor Ryan Gosling (appearing here as Luke Glanton from The Place Beyond the Pines, 2012) had few thoughts about one day playing a plastic blonde accessory to one of the world's most famous dolls, Barbie. Yet even then, he was faced with the Ken-ness of it all, staring into the fathoms of what it meant to forever be number two...

This is simultaneously sexy and adorable so I'm going to say it's sexorable. Which is almost like the word, exorable, (DEF: capable of being moved or persuaded) and one could argue that Reader's dress was doing that to Peter (cough cough) but his kiss was not w/o effect either...

Charming story!

Ur writing is great and all but can you write something where Peter is nicer?! I'm over here squirming like a donkey with a carrot dangled in its face and idk I wanna see Peter squirm for once

Ps. I literally inhaled all of ur blurbs in one sitting

dress

tasm!peter x fem!reader

a/n: actually i am physically incapable of making either one of them nice. it’s a character flaw

*

“peter,” you call, slipping some elaborate strap through shoes you know you’re going to regret later, but are far too good, too hot for now. “are you almost ready?”

last you heard, he’d been putting on his socks and just needed to grab his tie—which he had conviently forgot about.

but knowing peter, you’re not so sure.

you hear a grunt from the other room which means absolutely nothing, and, of course, everything.

“babe,” you whine, standing up to admire your leg for a moment, and then walking into the bedroom, click-clacking on your way. “we’re already fifteen minutes late.”

peter is standing in front of the mirror messing with his hair while his tie hangs loose from his neck. “ j’st one sec,” he mumbles, flipping his mop of a head to the other side like it’s going to fix anything.

“you know you’re supposed to tie that, right?”

“it’s in the name,” peter answers, rolling his eyes before they meet yours in the mirror, and widen every so slightly. “ouch,” he says, turning around you look at you.

“what?”

“that’s what you’re wearing?”

you look down to your dress; you’d been saving it for some special occasion, been waiting at least a year to pull it out from the back of the closet. it’s long and elegant, shows off just the right amount of skin, and is in peters favorite color (not that it matters).

you frown. “yes? is there something wrong with it?”

peter turns around again, clearing his throat. his hands reach for the ends of his tie, but he doesn’t do anything more. his eyes are on yours through the mirror. “nothing,” he says, while watching you.

but his voice is off and he’s still frozen, like he can’t move until you look away.

but you’re not going to back down first, obviously. he doesn’t get the win.

“no,” you say, walking to place a hand on the side of his waist. “what’s up?” you ask, leaning up so your whispering in his ear.

“it’s pretty.”

“then why do you look like i’ve just stolen your baby or something?”

peter shakes his head, and finally, he looks away. his hair gets more messy with every movement he makes. “i’m just nervous.”

“you’re nervous about a charity event that you volunteered both of us to go to?”

“i think the mayor might be there…” he mumbles, messing with the cuffs on his sleeves.

(it’s only slightly distracting)

you snort. “you literally asked the mayor for a fist bump on the news the other day.”

“hey,” peter says, tilting his chin up, “i didn’t do anything.”

“whatever, peter. what’s really going on?”

“i already told you.”

he’s messing with his tie again, but his hands are shaking a bit. and even though he’s pretending to wrap two ends around eachother, he’s not really doing anything at all. just mindlessly fidgeting.

you look at his face, brows furrowed. there’s a hint of pink on his cheeks, and when his eyes meet yours for just a split second, he’s flashing them away like he’s afraid that you’ll catch him.

you blink, frowning, and then you get it.

you smile at him, a bit cruelly.

“you’re nervous, huh?” you say, moving even closer to him. a hand falls on his shoulder, and the other plays with a loose strand of his hair. “this is a big event.”

“uh-huh.”

“i completely understand. who knows what might happen,” you whisper, faux pity in your voice. you turn so you’re facing him, pulling him towards you from the two ends of his tie. peter follows almost limp. “here,” you say, smiling at him, “let me help.”

you wrap the ends into a knot, not looking away from peters eyes for even one moment. you don’t think he’ll mind if his tie turns into a bow.

“you look really nice,” you tell him, whispering even though he’s the only one that can hear you. “i knew you’d look good in a suit.”

peter swallows. “you’ve seen me in one before.”

“mmm, this is different. i’ve never seen you put one on before.” a finger trails up his jaw, and you tilt your head at him.

“oh.”

you giggle, and finally look away, tightening the tie up to his neck. when it’s done you look up at him, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his chin. “there. good?”

peter clears his throat again and turns from your hands to look in the mirror. he straightens the tie, though clenches his fist before he can do it. he nods at you. “thanks.”

“anytime,” you tell him, moving away. you look in the mirror, playing with your hair. “do i look alright?”

peters head snaps towards you. “of course. you look great.”

“really? cause i wasn’t so sure about this dress…” you look down at it, a false pout on your lips.

“it’s beautiful.”

“are you sure, peter? because you kind of froze when i walked in, so… if there’s something wrong with it—“

“no,” peter interrupts. he spins you so your facing him. “it looks great. you look great.”

you sigh, and pull away the tiniest bit. “i guess i could still change, but we might be even later.”

“you don’t need to change,” peter says. his cheeks are even rosier now, and his eyes seem almost pained. but he doesn’t look away from your face.

“you cant even look at me, peter. you don’t need to lie.”

there’s a pause where you’re looking at peter—and even though your face is serious, your eyes are deadly. you want to watch him break. he’s looking back at you, eyes faltering, mouth opening and closing like he’s not quite sure what to say.

and then he shakes his head, sighing. “i cant look at you,” he admits, voice a bit harsh but quiet.

you tilt your head, “why not?”

“we’re already late.”

“what do you mean?”

peter hangs his head for a moment, laughing at the floor. then he looks back at you, and pulls you in by your waist. “if you want to leave any time tonight, then we can’t stand here any longer. i’m already going crazy.”

“why? are you okay?”

he scoffs at you. “c’mon, don’t tease.”

“i would never, peter.”

he rolls his eyes. “i know what you’re doing,” he whispers, leaving a peck on your nose. “and so do you.”

“i’m not doing—“

but he kisses you, rough like he’s been waiting to do it for years on end. his mouth his hot and his hands are desperate as they cling to your waist, your neck, keeping you from moving even a centimeter away from him.

you cant breathe when he kisses you like this, but it’s not completely necessary. you kiss him back with just as much fever, your fingers wrapping into his hair.

when he pulls away, he’s breathless and his eyes are dark. “we really have to go,” he says, voice raw.

you smile up at him, feeling just as breathless. “so you like the dress?”

*

Love this photoshoot from way back...