'Scuse Me, Heading To Vegas To Place A Bet On Whether That Was Kelsie.

'Scuse me, heading to Vegas to place a bet on whether that was Kelsie.

Hmmm, Matt. Ask yourself why someone working in a newsroom would be revealing that much information instead of asking YOU questions??

Doubters gonna doubt...and those two lovers love to second guess everything except what is right in front of them.

Kelsie's comeuppance is going to be juicy, right? Right? Pie to the face? Copier explosion? Roundhouse kick?

Worried about the upcoming angst...hope Reader gets a good nap in so she's ready for it...

Looking forward to finding out what happens!

Cooking Up Love, Chapter 11

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

Rating: T

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, idiots in love, Kelsie is her own warning 😈

Word Count: ~1k

A/N: Super short but super important chapter here! This is setting up our Mega Angst for the story, which will be coming next! 👀

As always, thanks to @theradioactivespidergwen for the stellar divider! 🥰

Tag List: @yarrystyleeza @hailey-murdock @mattkinsella @bellaxgiornata @danzer8705 @chezagnes @shouldbestudying41 @thepunisherfrankcastle @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @roseslovedreams

Ugh, why isn't this coffee kicking in, you thought to yourself while you sat at your desk attempting to proofread several articles for the Thursday digital edition of the paper later that morning. I've read this same sentence no less than 5 times.

You shook your head, trying to clear it. The unusual quiet in the normally bustling office definitely wasn't helping your sleepiness. Maybe some stronger coffee will help.

You stood up and walked towards the break room.  Skyler had brought a bag of espresso roast coffee in the previous week and you were pretty sure there was some still left. 

You paused as you spotted Ellison at the Keurig. "Copier's on the fritz again," you said, walking over towards the cabinet that held the coffee mugs. "Thought you should know."

Ellison nodded as he waited for his coffee to finish. "Hopefully there'll be enough money in the budget to replace it next year. Damn thing's probably older than I am."

He looked over at you and squinted. "No offense, but you look like shit."

You huffed out a laugh. "Gee thanks, Mitch. You sure know how to make a girl feel special."

"Rough night?"

You shook your head. "Just tired. I only slept about an hour last night." 

Ellison studied you for a moment. "Look, why don't you take the rest of the day off? Go home and get some rest."

You opened your mouth to protest, then thought better of it. You were still exhausted and a nap honestly sounded wonderful at the moment. "Are you sure?" you asked instead. "I was just going to get some more coffee and try to power through the rest of the day."

Ellison nodded. "Absolutely. It's been a slow news day, and besides, you've been working your ass off lately and deserve a break."

You smiled. "Okay. Thanks, I appreciate it."

Ellison shrugged. "Eh, don't get all sappy on me. I just don't want you burning out on me, otherwise who else would tell me if my editorial column sucks or not?"

You grinned. "Oh I'm sure people would be lining up for that privilege."

Ellison chuckled. "Seriously, go get some rest."

You nodded. "I will. Thanks, Mitch. Really. I'll see you tomorrow."

You walked back out to your desk and gathered your things, then stopped by Skyler's desk. "Ellison gave me the rest of the day off, so I'm heading home. I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay?"

Skyler nodded. "Okay. Get some rest."

As you headed down to the first floor and out the door, you considered stopping by Daredevil on your way home so you could apologize to Matt in person.

You headed towards your apartment building, sighing happily when you finally walked in the door.

You shook your head. You were so tired that you honestly weren't even sure if you could come up with a coherent apology. I'll talk to him after my article is turned in.

You peeked in your pantry and refrigerator, wrinkling your nose at the paltry options you had for dinner that evening. Instead of a choice between boxed pasta, instant ramen, or leftover Chinese takeout you wished you had Matt's spaghetti carbonara, pesto-parmesan linguine, and tiramisu. Maybe I could order something for delivery later, try something else on the menu.

You headed into your bedroom, changing into something more comfortable before climbing into bed. 

Your mind drifted to your article. You really didn't want to have to replay the last few minutes of the blind tasting yet again, but you needed to add a bit about it at the end so you could give it a quick read-through then send it to Ellison.

You sighed. You were a professional, dammit, and no matter your feelings, you were going to write a damn good article about Matt… Even if you never spoke to him again after it was all over.

I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night… No, take responsibility for your actions, Matthew. 

I'm sorry for trying to kiss you last night… Actually, no, I'm really not.

I apologize for my behavior last night. I must have misread the situation and… Ugh.

Matt sighed as he rode the elevator up to the Bulletin offices, wishing he would have had time to make a fresh tiramisu for you. 

He stepped off the elevator, unable to detect your now-familiar heartbeat among those of the rest of the Bulletin staff.

"Can I help you?" said a woman's voice to his left.

"Uh, yeah." Matt turned towards her and asked to speak to you.

"She's not here."

Matt sighed. Damn it. He probably wouldn't have time to come back later and based on what Foggy had said about you looking miserable he wasn't sure if you would be willing to come by the restaurant either. "Do you know when she'll be back?"

"Actually ," the woman continued, "she's out on assignment for the rest of the day. You know those investigative types, always looking for their next big scoop."

Matt furrowed his brow. That had been the exact opposite of the type of stories you had told him you were interested in writing. "I thought she was in Features."

"Oh, yeah, she is, but she really wants to be an investigative journalist, you know, digging up the dirt on people, finding out their deepest, darkest secrets and publishing them for the world to see." The woman paused. "Nothing nor no one is going to stand in the way of her and a good exposé… even if she has to make one up."

She made a dismissive sound. "Anyway, would you like to leave a message for her? I'll make sure that she gets it."

Matt shook his head. "Oh, uh, no, that's okay. I'll… catch up with her another time. Thank you."

"Sure thing. Have a nice day!"

Matt walked back to the elevator then headed down to the first floor. He had thought that he was getting to know you, but after that surprise revelation from your coworker he wasn't so sure.

He shook his head. Could you have been lying to him this whole time?

Whew, that was steamy in more ways than one!

I really liked the way you took the time to describe the scene where Peter washes Angel's hair in the shower. The washing away of more than just the dirt and blood from the warehouse but the symbolic representation. Well done.

The Epilogue is going to be killer.

The Angel In The Garden of Evil | Chapter Nineteen: Wash It Away*

Summary: It's time to wash off the past, as well as all that blood from that final battle.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Smut, genre typical content, mentions of blood and previous injuries, kissing, P in V, shower sex,

Word Count: 2.4k+

A/N: We couldn't leave our favourite couple before they kiss and make up and get it on again. I also realise there is a small theme of Angel always having an emotional breakdown before sex, I promise they aren't always like that haha. This series has been such an experience to write. Honestly at times it's like they wrote themselves, but we'll get into that more on our Epilogue Authour's Note. Anyway, here's some steamy shower sex.

NINETEEN

Peter didn’t say anything the whole car ride home, he didn’t even turn his head in her direction. His only acknowledgement of her presence in the car was the steady hand he held to her thigh, his thumb stroking small soothing and gentle motions back and forth. Her gaze kept tracking from his blood stained cheek to the ever changing landscape outside, trees coming into view and growing denser the further they got away from the city. He was taking them back to the house. He was taking them home.

He was slightly tense as he turned onto the drive. He didn’t follow it all the way down to the garage, instead parking right outside the front door. She waited in the car as he got out and walked the length of the car round to her side. He opened the door, holding his blood stained hand out for her to take. She wrapped her own bloody fingers around his before stepping out of the car. 

He paused, looking at her for a moment, drinking her in. He slowly dropped her hand, his hands raising to either side of her face, his fingertips finding a home in her hair as he held her head in place, his eyes searching, rediscovering. She lifted a hand up to brush across his blood covered shirt, her fingers wrapping tightly over his bicep, encouraging him to close the gap between them. His hips pushed her back against the side of the car as his fingers gripped tighter into her hair, pulling her towards him. His kiss was soft but firm. Silent, but deadly. It somehow said everything he needed to say, wanted to say but couldn’t. ‘I’m sorry. I love you.’

Her other arm wrapped around him, holding him close as the arm that was clinging to his bicep slowly climbed upwards towards his neck, fingers tangling into the hair as she deepened the kiss with her own apology.

His hands moved down the sides of her body, wrapping around her ass before he lifted her up into his arms, her arms folding over the backs of his shoulders. Holding her tight in his arms as he continued to place kiss after kiss onto her lips, he carried her towards the door to their house. Her breathing hitched, their lips parting momentarily as he pushed her forcefully against the door, holding her in place with just his hips and one arm as he rooted in his pocket for the key. He continued to attack her mouth, the metallic taste of dried blood entering his mouth from the flecks smeared across their faces as their kisses grew wider and more frantic. She felt the door give way behind her back as it opened, making her grip around his neck grow a little tighter, but she knew he wouldn’t drop her.

They continued to kiss, their hands pawing at each other as he moved them through the house, carrying her up the stairs to the bathroom. He subconsciously pushed the door closed with one hand before turning them so he could turn on the shower, before he finally placed her feet back onto the floor. His hands pushed her hair back as he held her face in both hands again, reassuring himself that she was real and here and his once more. Her fingers moved frantically to unbutton his shirt. The moment the last button was undone, she was ripping the shirt open and off of his arms. It got stuck at his elbows and he reluctantly let go of her so that he could pull his arms out the rest of the way, before throwing the shirt to the ground.

Steam filled the room as they took a step back from each other to get rid of the rest of their clothes, deciding the process would be much quicker. Once stripped they paused to take in each other’s naked forms, her eyes raking down her husband's toned stomach, his eyes fixated on her still bandaged ribs. He was gentle as his fingers reached out to her. She closed her eyes, letting out a long exhale of relief as he began to unwrap her chest, her lungs being able to work fully now they weren’t being held back. She let the steam cleanse them as Peter tipped his head down to lay kisses across the tops of her shoulders.

“Tell me if I am being too rough.” he whispered into her skin as he dropped the bandages, his free hand moving to wrap around the side of her neck and tilt her head up towards him so he could kiss her once more. It was slow and deep, his tongue teasing at her own as he lifted her into the shower. She breathed out another sigh of relief into his mouth as the warm water began to trickle down her back. He slowly let her feet fall to the shower floor as he continued to back her further under the stream of the shower and into the corner so that he could fit too. It didn’t take long for the water to turn red as it began to wash away the horrors of not just the evening but the last three years.

“Peter-” she whispered against his lips, seemingly pained. Seeing that his hands were in her hair and not on her body, he knew it wasn’t a physical pain but an emotional one; and as he opened his eyes and saw the fear and the sorrow that tainted her own, his own chest cleaved in two.

“It’s okay.” his soft voice tried to reassure her. “It’s okay.” he repeated as he folded her against his body, arms wrapping protectively around her skin.

They stood like that for a moment in silence. The only sound, the water and her deep breaths between silent tears, her fingers grasping onto him tightly.

He slowly separated them when he felt her still, a calm washing over her as her tears subsided. He turned and reached for the shampoo bottle that had been sat patiently waiting to be used again for the first time in weeks, squeezing the liquid into his palm before he started to lather it into her hair. His fingers scratched relaxingly against her scalp before he encouraged her head back into the stream of water, rinsing it of any left over blood. He had her turn, her chest being kept warm by the water as he did the same again, this time with conditioner, his fingers raking through her tresses, cleansing it and her of all trouble and worry. He stepped forward to kiss at her bare shoulders as he reached past her for a loofah. She kept her eyes closed, listening to the sounds as he opened the bottle of shower gel, squirting it onto the sponge and lathering it up in his hands. She sighed, leaning into his touch, as he gently began to wipe away at any left over blood and grime, her toes wiggling between the bubbles pooling at her feet. She always felt so beautiful under his touch.

Noticing the smile on her face, he reached a hand to the back of her head, turning her head back towards him so he could place a kiss against her lips. 

As their kiss deepened once more, she turned her whole body towards him, the suds sliding from her body as she turned. One of her hands started to slide up his bicep as the other moved down to take the sponge from him. She slowly encouraged him closer to the water as she stepped out of the stream of water and steam. He fully stepped under it, his hands moving up to run across his face and back through his hair, allowing it to rinse away all the blood and dirt from his own skin. When he tilted his head back down and opened his eyes to look at her again, her clean form all sweet for him, his devoted and loving wife, his gaze grew dark.

He reached back out for her, pulling her back under the water with him before turning and pushing her back against the wall. His lips attacked her’s hungrily and she giggled against his mouth for the briefest of moments before her own needs took over. She could feel him growing hard against her stomach as he leant his body against hers. Her breathing grew frantic as she reached to run her fingers up into his hair, pulling hard against his wet tresses. He growled deeply against her neck as his lips began to trail across her jaw and down her neck, his head burying in her chest as his arms reached down to lift her again.

His hips pushed her further into the tiles as he notched himself at her entrance as she panted his name. She gasped as he slipped himself inside, his head shifting so he could stare into her lovestruck eyes, mouth hung open as he teased at that special spot inside her as he filled her out.

“So pretty for me, baby.” he breathed before attaching his mouth back to hers again. He shifted her slightly in order to thrust inside her easier, a small sound of pain escaping from her lips from the way her ribs dragged against the hard tiles. “I’m sorry.” he whispered into her skin but she shook her head.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Her breathing hitched as he began to slowly drag his length out, then back in again. She gripped a hold of him tightly, slippery fingers desperately clawing at his wet skin. His pace was sinful, so slow, so long, so deep. This wasn’t a normal shower quickie, he was making love to her right against the tiles. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” he praised as she tilted her head back, her moans echoing around the bathroom, mingling with the steam.

“Peter.” she breathed his name like it gave her life. “Peter… Peter.” It was his favourite way to hear his name.

“God, I love you.” he spoke into her skin. “My perfect Angel, my slice of heaven. Always so good for me.” His thrust grew harder as he lost himself, Angel biting at her lip as she braced herself, one hand around Peter, the other steadying herself against the wall. 

Her legs shook slightly as he dropped her back down onto the shower floor, slipping out of her as he turned her around. He reached down, lifting her leg and bending her forward slightly, his other arm holding her up as he slipped back into her from behind.

His pants and grunts into her ear were sinful as he began to thrust into her faster with the new angle. She let her head fall back against his chest as her mouth hung open in pleasure. With each thrust he hit that devastating spot inside her. “My perfect wife.” he continued to coo. “Cum for me baby. Need to feel that perfect pussy squeeze me.”

His words elicited a guttural sigh to escape her chest, the arm he was using to hold her up around her chest moving to wrap around her throat. She chased his lips as he leaned over her, his tongue smashing into her mouth to taste every breath, every moan. 

She could feel her muscles pulling tight low in her belly as she ground back into him, attempting to meet his every thrust. Their lips parted and her forehead pressed into his as she panted “I love you.” her eyes boring into his before her breaths stuttered.

She practically screamed into his mouth when her climax dropped. “That’s my girl.” he coached her as he slowed his thrusts and fucked her through it.

“Now, you.” she panted as her heaving chest began to settle but he just lowered her  leg and slipped out of her.

“Not, yet.” He said before he placed another deep kiss to her lips.

He picked up the loofah, lathering it up again from where it had been lying on the shower floor before wiping her off one more time. He encouraged her back under the flowing water to wash off the bubbles and rinse the conditioner from her hair, before he was ushering her out the shower so he could wash himself properly.

“Go dry, yourself off.” he said as she wrapped herself up in a towel. “I’ll be in in a minute.” he encouraged, instructing her to wait in their bedroom as he stepped back under the running water.

She slipped quietly out of the bathroom, padding across the hall to the master bedroom. She wished she could call it their master bedroom, but until they moved their stuff back over from the penthouse, she could only think of this as his bachelor bedroom.

She took a moment to take it all in; all hardwood furniture and navy bed covers. The art was all photos of the city. She suspected all of them were photos he’d taken back in the day when he wouldn’t go anywhere without his camera. She hoped he’d take up the hobby again after all this.

She couldn’t help but think back to his old bedroom at May’s. This couldn’t have been more different. No homely touches, everything chosen to fit an aesthetic; the dark brooding gangster whose wife had left him. She froze as she felt his presence in the doorway, turning to see him standing with a towel wrapped around his hips, his hand still rubbing at his wet hair with a smaller towel. 

He took one look at her face. “You hate it, don’t you?” he said as he stepped closer to her.

She tried to school her features as she slowly began to nod but she couldn’t hide her smile from him. “Yeah.” she agreed as he began to smile with her. “I will say,” she said, wrapping her arms around him, now he was close enough to do so, “I do like the photos.”

“Yeah?” he asked as he beamed down at her, his own arms wrapping protectively around her, his head following her bobbing one as she nodded again. “So they can stay?” he asked with a breathy snigger.

“I think we can find a place for them somewhere.” her voice teased.

“Oh, really!” he teased back with a smile as he swung her round sideways, tipping her off balance with a giggling shriek, before righting her again. “And what about you?” he continues to jest.

“Ahhh, Peter!”

“Can we find a place for you.” he continues, beginning to lift her.

“PETER!” she laughed.

“I think I’ve got the perfect place.” he said, walking her back towards the bed.

-----------------------------------------

The final curtain drops on our favourite couple this Sunday. Don't forget to come back for the Epilogue. Also if you have enjoyed the story don’t forget to tip me like you would your waiter by reblogging and leaving feedback and letting me know what you think, it also helps keep the story alive by sharing it with new people!

@scmdsblog @angiexsv @thef1nalgirl @did-someone-change-my-name @sincericida @tarzinnia @liz-allyn @blacksoul09 @humxncrxvings @sunnycolors @suicide-sweetheart636 @ahryi @ms-wild-card-56

"Smiles form the channels of a future tear." ---Lord Byron

that one time andrew garfield was trying to photobomb taylor swift

I notice you, I want to say. Even when no one else does, I do. I will.

– David Levithan, Every Day

Good night my lovelies, good night.