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A Little Angel (Or Devil?) Chapter 1
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Story Summary: Matt and Reader, happily married at the end of Angel of God, my Guardian Dear, start the next chapter in their life together -- parenthood.
Warnings/Tags: Smut, Unprotected Sex (I mean obviously, Matt and Reader are trying for a baby), Pregnancy and all that comes with it, no graphic depiction of childbirth
Word Count: ~1250
A/N: I realized that I didn't have anything to post for Valentine's Day, so here's the first chapter of the AoG sequel! We're starting out spicy, lol. 😏🔥
As always, let me know if you'd like to be tagged!
Matt Murdock smiled as he got dressed for work, the sound of his wife muttering to herself as she fiddled with the ice maker on their new refrigerator three floors down filling him with happiness.
He and Y/N had been married about a month and a half and had been slowly getting their 4-story townhouse -- the dream home that Matt had surprised Y/N with as a wedding gift -- situated and furnished, starting with their bedroom then moving down to the first floor before working their way back up.
He chuckled as Y/N made a sound of triumph, the ice maker finally doing what she wanted it to do.
He finished tying his tie and made his way downstairs, heading into the kitchen where Y/N was now standing at the counter packing her lunch while waiting for her iced coffee to finish brewing.
Y/N turned and gave him a kiss. “Morning, husband.”
Matt smiled as he kissed her back. “Mmm. Morning, wife.”
Y/N began to move back towards their coffee maker. “I think I managed to get the voice control on the refrigerator programmed.”
“Oh, great --” Matt's brow furrowed. “Hey, wait a second.”
Y/N paused. “What's up?”
Matt moved behind her and nuzzled her neck. “Are you using a new body wash?”
Y/N hummed, tilting her head to the side to give Matt better access. “No, it's the same one I've always used. Why?”
Matt shrugged. “You smell different.”
“Huh, that's odd. I haven't switched anything -- still using the same body wash, same shampoo, same antiperspirant… I haven't even used a different lotion since I found that one that doesn't overwhelm your senses.”
Matt shook his head and nuzzled Y/N's neck again, the change in her scent awakening something primal in him. “I'm not complaining, angel.”
He grazed her pulse point with his teeth before soothing the spot with a kiss. “It's actually really turning me on.”
Y/N let out a soft whimper, the sound sending shockwaves straight to Matt's cock. “Matt, baby, unless you want to be late for court I suggest you not do that, because I will drag you back upstairs to our bedroom and have my wicked way with you.”
Matt chuckled lowly before wrapping one hand around Y/N’s waist while creeping his other one under the dress she wore. “Who said we have to go all the way upstairs, angel? Who said I can't just fuck you right here in our kitchen?”
He slid his hand inside Y/N’s underwear and slipped a finger between her weeping folds, groaning at the slickness that coated his digit. “Mmm, especially when you're already this needy for me.”
Y/N gasped and gripped the counter, the scent of her arousal becoming even stronger. “Matt, Matty, baby, please…”
Matt lightly circled her bud with his fingertip. “Is that a yes, sweetheart?”
Y/N moaned as she reached under her dress to pull her underwear down. “Yes, Matthew, fuck. Want your cock inside me.”
Matt unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, pulling his pants and boxers down just enough to free his hard cock.
He gave himself a few strokes and lined up with Y/N’s entrance before easily sliding inside her.
He groaned as Y/N’s walls tightened around him. “Jesus , angel, you feel incredible.”
Y/N gasped. “God, so do you, Matty. Need you to fuck me, please.”
Matt pulled out until just his tip remained inside Y/N then slowly pushed back in. “Like this, sweetheart?”
He could feel the displacement of air as Y/N vigorously shook her head. “Want it hard and deep, Matty.”
Matt let out a low rumble from deep in his chest. “Oh yeah? Want a reminder of who this cunt belongs to?”
Y/N clenched around him. “Uh huh. Want to still feel you inside me while I’m sitting at my desk at work today.”
Matt pulled out once again then slammed his hips upwards, Y/N’s cry of ecstasy music to his ears.
Y/N hands flew out and grasped the counter. “Fuck -- need it just like that, baby, please.”
Matt began to fuck her in a rough pace, Y/N’s hips slamming back into him with each thrust. “Christ, sweetheart, I can feel you clenching around me. You're so fucking close already, aren't you, angel?”
Y/N’s head fell back against Matt's shoulder, one of her hands reaching up to caress his cheek. “Uh huh, feels so good, Matty. Want you to come inside me, fill me up.”
Matt growled then reached down and picked Y/N’s leg up to bend her against the counter, the new angle allowing him to drive even deeper into her. “Touch yourself for me.”
Y/N’s hand that had been caressing Matt's face reached down to rub her bud. “Fuck, Matt, right there, sweetheart, don't stop, please --”
Matt groaned, the combination of Y/N’s desire for him and whatever was different about her scent making his head spin. “I gotcha, angel, gonna leave you full just like you need.”
He snaked his hand that was gripping her hip up to her neck, applying a gentle pressure around her throat. “Be a good wife and come for me, Y/N.”
Y/N’s breath hitched as she tightened around him. “Matt, yes-- ”
Matt slammed his hips upwards into Y/N one last time with a groan, his cock releasing stream after stream of his seed deep inside her as she came around him.
Y/N slumped against the counter, panting.
Matt carefully set Y/N’s leg down, making sure she remained steady on her feet. “You okay, angel?”
Y/N sighed blissfully. “Never fucking better.”
Matt chuckled then carefully pulled out of her, tucking himself back into his pants before grabbing a paper towel and dampening it so he could clean Y/N up.
He tilted his head to the side as he heard Y/N pull her underwear back up, his nostrils flaring at the scent of their mixed release soaking the fabric. “Are you…”
Y/N turned and gave him a kiss. “I told you I wanted to still feel you inside me while I was sitting at my desk at work today.”
Matt's spent cock gave a feeble twitch of interest. “I swear if I didn't have court today I'd be dragging you back upstairs to bed.”
Y/N buttoned and zipped Matt's pants up for him then adjusted his tie. “Mmm, raincheck for tonight?”
Matt nodded as he buckled his belt. “Court should adjourn pretty early today, so how about I make something special for dinner and we can have a date night in the garden? And we can sit on the swing Aunt Ruth gave us as a housewarming gift since it's finally starting to warm up outside.”
Y/N slid her hands down Matt's back and gently squeezed the globes of his ass. “That sounds perfect, Matty. Love you.”
Matt grinned as she handed him a travel mug of coffee. “Love you too, angel. See you tonight.”
Y/N gave him a kiss. “Now go get ‘em, counselor.”
Matt grabbed his briefcase off of the end table in the foyer and headed out the door, hurrying to catch a cab so he wouldn't actually be late for work. He still couldn't figure out what was different about Y/N’s scent, but it had certainly been a fun way to start the morning.
#lotmf writes#matt murdock x fem!reader#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock x reader#ALA(oD) Masterlist#AoG Masterlist
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ode to the loyal knight
Pairing: Silver x gn!reader
Synopsis: you simply adored his very existence, everything single part of him
Tags: drabble, fluff, slightly poetic hehe, reader is a simp for silver, bot proofread
Word count: 606
Notes: ngl i found silver kinda boring at first but i'm glad to say fairy gala remix and other snippets of lore have endeared him to me. happy birthday silver!
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Your lover's eyes are a mesmerizing masterpiece, pools of blue and purple hues that you could stare into forever. Within their depths, an ethereal quality dances, as if the colours themselves were blessed by the tender caress of the dawn's first light. When his eyes lock with yours, time stands still, and you find yourself lost in their enchanting splendour. In those captivating eyes, you witness the reflection of his soul, a kind spirit that calls out to you, urging you to delve deeper into his being.
Your lover's tendency to drift into slumber, no matter the circumstance, may exasperate those around him, but to you, it's an endearing aspect of his character, adding a unique charm that you simply can't resist. You can’t help but smile when he falls asleep during classes or training, unable to resist the allure of sleep despite his best efforts.
Your lover tries to stay awake for you determinedly. You see the exhaustion etched upon his face, yet he persists, striving to be fully present with you. But alas, despite his best efforts, his eyelids grow heavy, and his body begins to sway with fatigue. His eyes flutter closed, and his body relaxes and ventures into the realm of dreams. Though sleep claims him, you know that when he awakens, he will be refreshed and ready to spend time with you once more. And in those moments of wakefulness, you will treasure his affection and attention, knowing full well the love he holds for you.
Your lover's laid-back nature draws you in, captivating you with its charm. His naivety sometimes leads to misunderstandings, but it only makes you love him more. You find beauty in his ability to see the best in everyone and everything, even when the world appears grim. He brings light into your life, and when you're together, a fluffy, optimistic atmosphere envelope you both. It may irritate some, but to you, it's a magical space where love and positivity thrive.
Your lover is a knight, a valiant soul committed to honour and duty. His dedication is a testament to the love and gratitude he holds for those who raised him. Through the haze of his somnolence, he strives to repay their kindness, his heart set on protecting those he cherishes. When it comes to those dear to him, caution awakens within him, transforming his demeanour into one of vigilance and protection. His usually serene eyes sharpen, his steps become measured and deliberate. In those moments, you witness the depths of his love and loyalty, his devotion unwavering.
You love how he remains composed and level-headed, carefully weighing each situation before making decisions. In moments of crisis, you trust him to guide you with his steady hand and wise judgment. He is not talkative, but you find solace in the quiet moments spent together. His willingness to listen, to absorb your thoughts and opinions without judgment, creates a safe haven where your voice is valued.
The sleepy gaze he casts upon you, the unwavering dedication he pours into every aspect of his life, and even his endearing absent-mindedness, they all intertwine, creating a tapestry of love that is both gentle and fierce. Every moment spent with him is like a vibrant brushstroke across the sky, an ethereal dance of colours in the canvas of your love. Just like the northern lights so alike his eyes, as the aurora borealis stretches across the horizon, your bond illuminates the depths of your souls, the magic of your love lights up the darkest corners, bringing warmth and comfort to even the coldest nights.
Your lover, is none other than Silver.
Masterlist
if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!
#twstnexus#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twst imagines#twst wonderland#twisted wonderland silver#silver#silver x reader
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Pirate King — K.HJ
SUMMARY: You are playing a dangerous game with an even more dangerous man, and you don't know how much longer it can go on before everything falls apart around you.
PAIRING: Kim Hongjoong x F!Reader
RATING/GENRE: M ; smut ; pirate au, rivals w/ benefits
WORD COUNT: 7.6k
WARNINGS: Toxic relationship dynamics, poor bdsm etiquette, dubious consent, knife play, unsafe sex
A/N: Hi! This is the first part in the collection of stories I am writing based on each of ATEEZ’s title tracks & singles, as well as the very first piece of my writing I am posting on this blog. Please enjoy!
LINKS: AO3 Link | Series Masterlist | All Works Masterlist
You slip silently through the shadows, your eyes fixed on the mansion ahead. You have been planning this heist for weeks, and the payoff will be enough to finally get a ship and a small crew of your own. You have taken everything into consideration—the guards’ patrol routes, the location of the target, all the way down to the best escape route. You even planned around the weather, the rain being a perfect distraction from any noise you might make. Nothing will be left to chance. Nothing can go wrong.
You climb the garden trellis that leads to the third-floor window and pop open the latch with your pocket knife, slipping inside. You cast a cursory glance down each side of the hallway, but just as you expected, the guard is nowhere to be seen. At this time, he should be patrolling the opposite end of the floor, which gives you about six minutes to neutralize the two guards in the display room, get the necklace, and get out. The time frame is tight, but you’ve dealt with worse scenarios.
The necklace you are after is an ode to jewelry craftsmanship, and no expense had been spared in its creation. The design consists of a solid gold chain, polished to a gleaming shine. Dangling from the center of the necklace is a single, massive diamond, a flawless gem that sparkles with a brilliance that is almost blinding. Supposedly, when it catches the light just right, it creates a mesmerizing display of color. The Aurora, people call it.
But it isn’t the diamond alone that makes the necklace so valuable—it is the history behind it. Legend has it that the necklace once belonged to a powerful queen who was gifted it at her coronation. It had been passed down through generations of royalty before her, and people say that anyone who wore it was blessed with great wealth and success. That part of the story obviously isn’t true, as no one who has since come into possession of the necklace has reaped the benefits.
It’s not that you don’t believe in magical items—they certainly do exist. In fact, part of the reason you are trying to get a ship is to track one that has captured your interest. The Aurora just happens to be a normal item of jewelry. Of course the people who owned it were wealthy and successful; they were royalty. It was all no more than a mere coincidence. But alas, it is still a hot commodity and one you are willing to provide.
The governor you are robbing recently purchased the necklace at an auction for an inconceivable amount of money, much to the chagrin of your employer. You couldn’t care less about petty disagreements between the wealthy—you just want to do the job and get paid.
You enter the display room, poisoned knife at the ready. One cut is all you need to get the toxin into a man’s bloodstream and paralyze him. You freeze momentarily when you see that the guards have already been dealt with, their unconscious bodies lying in a heap on the floor. The confusion only lasts for a moment before panic surges through you, spurring you into action. You switch into a defensive posture and spin around so your back is against a wall, prepared to face whoever has beaten you here.
Your eyes take in the room, but you don’t see anyone else. There are too many hiding spots to consider, and you start listing them off in your head. Behind one of the doors? No, too obvious. Inside the suit of armor? No, too impractical. Inside one of the cabinets? Perhaps, but which one? There must be at least 6 that you can see and walking around aimlessly will leave you vulnerable.
What you don’t account for is the man crouching behind a display case to your right. He jumps out and catches you by surprise, trapping you in his arms. Without hesitation, you throw your elbow back, connecting with his stomach and forcing him to release his hold on you. You follow up with a wide arc of your knife, but he counters your attack with ease, twisting your wrist and causing you to lose your grip on the weapon. You curse under your breath, knowing that you're outmatched in close combat.
Refusing to back down, you bring your leg up and land a solid kick to his midsection. He staggers back, only knocked off balance for a second, but it is enough time for you to cross the room and grab the necklace. With a burst of speed, you dash towards the exit, thinking you have the man beat. But just as you near the window, he grabs you by the hair and pulls you back toward him. Pain radiates through your scalp, and you almost bite your tongue in an attempt to hold back a scream. You go to elbow him again, but this time he’s prepared, pulling you tightly against his chest and rendering you immobile. You strain to catch a glimpse of his face, but it's hidden behind a dark cloak.
“Sorry,” he says, before covering your mouth with a sickly sweet-smelling cloth. You struggle against him, thrashing your arms and legs, but it's no use. The last thing you recall is the fact that you recognize his voice, a sense of frustration flooding through you as darkness overtakes you.
You let out a groan as you slowly regain consciousness, blinking your eyes in an attempt to adjust to the harsh sunlight. Your senses gradually come back to you, and it doesn’t take you long to recognize where you are. You can smell the sea in the air just as much as you can feel it beneath you. That and the fact that your hair is currently whipping around your face from the wind is enough to let you know that you are on a ship. Not just any ship, though. The worn wooden deck, the orange and black flag waving above your head, all down to the sound of laughter in the distance are things that are more than familiar to you. Even the uncomfortable feeling of being tied to the mast, unable to move, is nostalgic. You’re on the Destiny.
Your head is pounding, and your limbs feel heavy and numb, an awful reminder of how you ended up in this position. Your clothes are stiff against your skin and still slightly damp—it must have continued to rain while you were unconscious. Of course none of your captors had the decency to put you in the brig, protected from the elements. You’re sure you can thank the Destiny’s sadistic captain for that; he likes to think doing things like this gives him sort of power over you.
You test your bonds but, as always, they are as secure as can be. Fucking San. You can’t believe you let him capture you again. You’ll get him back for this—maybe you’ll steal his cat when you escape this time as a warning you aren’t to be messed with any longer. Plus, Byeol is such a sweetheart and she deserves better than to be surrounded by all of this chaotic, masculine energy.
“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice remarks, the timbre of it instantly grating on your nerves. “Sleeping Beauty has finally decided to join us after her two-day nap.”
“Wooyoung,” you spit.
He looks no different from the last time you saw him, other than the fact that his long, dark locks are pulled back in a ponytail. He dons a black vest and tight-fitting trousers, his white linen shirt slightly open at the collar to reveal his tanned chest. A gun holster is fastened to his hip, containing his favorite ornate pistol. In all the years you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him without it.
“You look like shit, Y/N,” he laughs. The way his eyes crinkle makes him look deceptively innocent, but you know better. “San really did a number on you this time, huh?”
“Nice to see you too, bastard.”
“I know, isn’t it always?” He ignores your harsh language and squats in front of you. “Captain sure is happy to have you back. I’m almost jealous.”
“Jealous?” You scoff. “I never wanted that sadist’s attention in the first place. Feel free to have him all to yourself.”
“I said almost. He gives me plenty of attention, don’t you worry.”
You raise an eyebrow. “That so?”
Wooyoung nods, smirking. “Yeah. In fact, just the other night, he—”
“Wooyoung, knock it off,” San interrupts, voice stern. He walks over holding a metal cup in one hand and a plate of food in the other. No longer hidden under a cloak, you’re able to see that his black hair is freshly cropped, accentuating the chiseled angles of his face. “Why don’t you go let Hongjoong know Y/N is awake since you’re apparently so fond of him, hm?”
“Don’t be jealous, Sannie,” Wooyoung says, standing up and caressing the back of San’s neck. “You know I love you too.”
“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here, brat.”
Surprisingly obedient, he walks off, but not without one last witty remark. “Have fun with her. Watch your fingers!”
San ignores him and kneels in front of you, setting down the food and water. Despite seeming flippant about Wooyoung’s warning, he still eyes you warily. “I’m gonna feed you now, alright? Please don’t bite me.”
You roll your eyes in response. “That was one time; let it go.”
“It hurt! I have a scar from it!” He holds up his right index finger; sure enough, there’s a pale white line right where you sunk your teeth in.
“You poor baby. Not as if you, I don’t know, kidnapped me or something.”
He pouts and picks up the water cup, raising it to your lips. You greedily gulp it down, eager to rinse away the lingering taste of whatever he drugged you with. Some of it escapes from the corners of your lips, dripping down your chin and soaking into the neckline of your shirt. San gently dabs at your mouth with his sleeve, and there is so much kindness in the action that you almost feel bad for all the shit you give him.
“Can’t you just join our crew since we want the same thing? I don’t particularly enjoy kidnapping you, you know.”
Almost.
“Okay, then stop doing it!”
“Y/N,” he whines, “You know that whatever Captain says, goes. Or I’ll be the next one tied to the mast.”
You pout as you accept the next bite of food he offers you. “If he is such a tyrant, why are you and Wooyoung and everyone else so loyal to him?”
San sighs and sits more comfortably, crossing his legs. “There’s a lot of reasons. I’ve never met another captain as fiercely protective of his crew, who is as loyal to them as they are to him. Nor have I seen anyone as passionate, or as dedicated to what we do and what we fight for. He makes people believe in something, you know?”
“So? That excuses the way he acts?”
San doesn’t answer right away, continuing to feed you bread and cheese as he ponders what to say. Being fed is somewhat humiliating, but this isn’t the first time you have found yourself in this situation, and it probably won’t be the last. Plus, you don’t feel like biting any fingers today, so you may as well put up with it.
“It’s not that simple,” he says eventually, eyes soft and hazy as if recalling a distant memory. “I may not be a fan of some of his crueler practices, but I understand that everything he does is necessary. He isn’t evil; it’s not all about fear, at least not when it comes to the crew. It’s about respect. He demands our respect because he needs to know that we have his back just as he has ours. He only punishes those who deserve it. And when it comes to our enemies? The fear he inspires in them makes our lives a thousand times easier. He’s earned my loyalty beyond a shadow of a doubt. I owe him everything.”
You will never admit it out loud, but hearing him talk about his captain with so much reverence inspires similar feelings within you. You can say you hate him, that you want nothing to do with him, and that you find his sadistic fascination with you nothing more than an inconvenience, yet you still always end up right back here on his ship. If you were smart, you would avoid port towns completely. But maybe, just maybe, part of you is drawn to the captain just as much as his crew seems to be.
Before you can probe San for more details, Wooyoung hollers for the both of you from the bow of the ship. Giving you one last, apologetic look, San stands and unties you from the mast before guiding you toward him.
Wooyoung nods to the captain’s quarters. “Time for your date.”
You roll your eyes. “Oh, gee, can’t wait.”
San walks you to the door, but, before he can knock, you move in front of him so that you’re blocking his way. Figuring you have nothing to lose, you give him your best puppy eyes.
Before you can even say anything, he’s already shaking his head. “No, no, don’t even try it. Sorry, Y/N, but I’m not getting involved in Captain’s business, which is exactly what you are.”
“San, come on, I can make it worth your while.” You bat your eyelashes at him, and he flushes, embarrassed by what you’re implying. You wouldn’t normally stoop this low, but it’s not like he’s unattractive… Plus, it’ll make it easier to steal Byeol if you’re already in his room.
He goes to say something and then freezes, eyes widening. “Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“What? Are you not attracted to me? Actually, don’t tell me if that’s the case, you’ll hurt my feelings.”
He backs away, raising his hands in a sign of surrender. “I’m not getting involved,” he says, reiterating his statement from earlier. It’s only then you realize he’s no longer looking at you, but behind you.
You slowly turn around to face none other than Kim Hongjoong, Captain of the Destiny and the bane of your existence. He dons his usual tan coat that has his logo embroidered on a black armband, indicative of his authority. A small scar cuts through his left eyebrow, giving him a dangerous edge, and his hair is styled away from his face, showcasing his deceivingly delicate features. His intense gaze seems to burn right through you, his aura as imposing as ever.
"Y/N," he greets, his voice just as you remember. It has a sweet, almost musical quality to it, like a bell. But there's also a hint of darkness that makes your hair stand on end. "Come in, please."
Despite the polite request, you can't help but roll your eyes. He asks as if you have a choice, but you know better. If you don't comply willingly, he will force you to do so. You walk past him, purposely bumping your shoulder against his. He just smirks and shuts the door behind you, the lock clicking ominously.
You've been in his quarters many times before, so you know the layout well. The room is humble but cleverly designed to appear larger than it is and lit by several lanterns, casting a warm glow over everything. The air is thick with the scent of spices, sandalwood, and the faintest hint of tobacco smoke. The centerpiece is an ornate desk made of dark wood, with a leather-bound journal and quill at the ready.
The walls are lined with shelves containing books, trinkets, and other treasures from Hongjoong's travels. A large map of the sea hangs on the wall behind his desk, covered in pins and strings marking his various ports of call and potential targets. You try to memorize the details, hoping they'll be useful in your future journeys. He notices you looking and laughs as if he doubts you’ll be able to garner any information from it.
His laughter makes you bristle. “You left me tied up for two days this time, bastard.”
“It’s no fun if I go too easy on you, is it?” he hums, watching you walk around his room.
“I don’t think it’s any fun at all, actually.”
You come to a stop in front of his bed, large enough to fit two comfortably, with silk sheets and plush pillows. You remember the feeling of the silk on your skin and flush, quickly turning away from it and focusing your attention on Hongjoong who has taken a seat on the edge of his desk.
He tilts his head, eying you the same way a cat eyes a mouse. “I’m not so sure that’s true. You never do stay away long, do you, Y/N?”
“It’s not like coming here is my choice.”
“Oh, but isn’t it? You know the ports we frequent yet still choose not to avoid them. I can’t help but wonder why.”
“If you think it’s because of you, you need to get your ego sorted out.”
He smirks. “I never said that, did I? But I believe you just confirmed it.”
You take a deep breath, determined to keep your cool. You hate how he gets under your skin so easily but would hate it even more if you made it obvious. As if he doesn’t already know exactly the effect he has on you.
“If you would just let me go about my own business and stop sending your little henchman after me, we could simply avoid each other and make both of our lives easier.”
“Ah, yes. San, my infiltrator, to whom you made a very interesting offer.” He stands up as he says this, stalking toward you. “Are you interested in him? You want him to think you’re pretty?” You say nothing, the intimidating aura rolling off of him rendering you speechless. You didn’t realize you were backing away until your knees hit against his mattress. “Have you thought about what it would be like to have his cock in your mouth or his head buried between your legs?”
As he runs his thumb over your bottom lip, a part of you longs to draw it into your mouth, but you turn your head away. “You’re sick.”
“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” He pushes you just hard enough so that you’re forced to sit on the bed, head level with his abdomen. He stares down at you with a twisted smile, obviously enjoying the change in perspective. “So, tell me,” he continues as if he hadn’t just said some of the most vulgar things you have ever heard, “you have new information on the location of the Cromer?”
The Cromer—the magical object you are both after, an hourglass that grants the owner the ability to move through dimensions. You’ve been hunting it for years, with Hongjoong and his crew always right on your tail.
“Funny how you’re asking as if you expect me to just hand it over.”
“Won’t you, sweetheart?” He pouts, and that is almost enough to break your resolve.
“No way in hell. You’d have to torture the information out of me first.”
He smiles again as if the idea is appealing to him. But then he gives you a once over, and his eyes darken. “Let’s save the torturing for another day, shall we? It has been far too long since I’ve last had you.”
His words send a jolt through you, making you clench around nothing.“Fuck you, Hongjoong. I’m not your whore.”
“Whose whore are you then? San’s?” He places a knee on the mattress next to you, leaning over you. His breath fans against your face when he speaks next. “Do you think he’d be able to make you scream the way I do? That he’d be able to fuck you the way you like?”
“Maybe he would,” you say, though you don’t actually believe it.
“He’s too good for you, Y/N, and I think you know that. He’d be gentle, loving, and treat you like a doll. A real gentleman. But that’s not what you want. What you really need, what you truly desire, is someone who can break you over and over again until you can’t even remember your own name.”
“You’re such a—” Before you can even get the full phrase out, he crashes his lips onto yours. It’s pathetic how you can’t even bring yourself to resist; instead, you moan into his mouth, granting his tongue access.
He kisses you with bruising strength, and you kiss back just as fiercely as if you’re desperate to prove him right. That no one else could ever satisfy you the way he does. Your mind is at war with the fire in your veins, the need that permeates throughout every inch of your body. You shouldn’t want him, but you do. You have fallen into his trap yet again.
He backs away far too soon for your liking, undoing his belt in the blink of an eye and letting his pants fall to his knees. You’re pleased to see that he is already straining against his briefs—at least you aren’t the only one plagued by want.
“I think you should put that smart mouth of yours to good use.”
As he stands there, expectant, you reach out and gently trace the outline of him. He lets out a sharp exhale through gritted teeth. You pause for a moment, squeezing him once before slipping your fingers underneath the waistband of his underwear and pulling them down underneath his ass. His cock springs free, slapping against his abdomen. The tip is already leaking, and you smirk in satisfaction.
“And you say I’m the needy one.”
“Oh, you are. I know you love letting me use you, so I’m just giving you what you want.”
“I should bite your cock off.”
He laughs, not worried in the slightest. “Why would you when you like it so much?” He slaps it against your lips and you instinctively stick out your tongue, savoring his familiar taste. “See, look at you. What a pretty little cock slut,” he croons. “Open wide for me.”
You do so, eagerly taking him into your mouth. You sink almost all the way down to the base of his member, your nose practically brushing against his abdomen. His tip hits the back of your throat; he’s not quite big enough to gag you, but as he begins to thrust, saliva pools out of the corners of your lips. He moans, throwing his head back as he fucks your throat.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Use that dirty little mouth on me. No bite to back up your bark, hm?” You graze him with your teeth in response, and he pulls harshly on your hair, making you whimper. “Always so eager to be punished, aren’t you?”
He gives a few more hard thrusts before pulling you all the way off of him. Strings of saliva still connect you to his cock momentarily before they break and fall away as he pulls his pants up once again.
Picking up his previously discarded belt, he smacks it once against his palm, staring at you expectantly. “Hands against the headboard.”
“No way in hell am I letting you tie me up again.”
His eyes narrow. “I think you will. Or would you prefer I use this on your ass instead?”
Glowering at him, you do as he asks. He isn’t gentle when tightening the belt around your wrists, and the leather digs into your skin uncomfortably. You squirm in your bonds and he grabs your face, squeezing it between his fingers.
“Aw, does it hurt?” His grip on your face tightens. “I don’t care.” He gives your cheek a rough slap before walking over to his desk and retrieving a small, ornate knife. He returns to the bed, twirling it skillfully between his fingers as he does so. “You know, some pirates cut the hands off of the thieves they catch.”
Nervous sweat dampens your brow as you watch light glint menacingly off of the blade. You know that Hongjoong is not one to shy away from violence, but you can’t see him ever doing something to injure you so grievously. You can feel the cold metal of the knife against your skin as he runs it teasingly down the length of one of your bound arms. You're trapped and at his mercy, yet, you aren’t entirely powerless. Not when you know he craves you just as badly as you do him.
“You would never go that far and we both know that.”
Hongjoong sighs. “You’re right, of course. But—” He brings the blade down and cuts right through the front of your shirt, exposing your chest to him. “I’m still going to leave my mark on you.”
He presses the blade into the skin right under your collarbone with just enough pressure to bring a few droplets of blood to the surface. You exhale through gritted teeth—the pain isn’t excruciating, but the sting is unpleasant.
“I thought you weren’t going to torture me this time, hm?”
“Oh, darling, don’t be silly. You know what real torture looks like. I just want to claim what is mine. That way no one—not San, not Wooyoung, nor any other soul—will ever even dream about touching you.”
“I’m not yours, Hongjoong. I’m not anyone's.”
He laughs, dragging the knife down from the top of your neck to the middle of your sternum. “Whatever you say.”
His touch is light enough that your skin only sustains injuries in the few places his grip wavers, though you know that his hand is steady and his small blips are probably a lot more deliberate than he would have you think.
“How about here?” He says, tapping his knife against the area of skin between your breasts. “Should I carve my initials right here, so that anyone you ever bare yourself to will know that you belong to Kim Hongjoong, Captain of the Destiny? The notorious Pirate King and most wanted man in all of Elysium?”
Your heart flutters like a bird. Whether it is out of fear or exhilaration, you cannot say.
“You sound quite silly listing off all of your titles like that. A bit narcissistic, no?”
“Maybe I’ll cut out your tongue too.”
“I don’t think you would like kissing me much, then.”
He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours once again. He kisses you sloppily, without any care, all gnashing teeth and conquering tongue. You kiss him back with equal fervor, your body thrumming with desire. The threat of a knife mere centimeters from your chest does nothing to quell your need for him.
He pulls back, lips glistening with saliva. “I think you’re right about that, my dear. I would be loath to rid myself of one of my greatest pleasures.” You feel flush, the slight praise doing more for you than it should. Hongjoong notices too, of course. “Look at you, all beautiful and rosy for me. Only me.”
With more force than before, he returns the knife to your skin. Gone are the teasing touches, the small cuts. Now, your chest begins to burn, throbbing with a deep and intense ache. You scream and thrash in your bindings, unable to deal with the pain like before. Hongjoong has no choice but to pull his knife away lest you mess up his work. He tsks as if you’re no more than a disobedient child and climbs on top of you, forcing your body to still underneath his own.
“Just another minute, darling. Be good for me.”
One minute feels like ten but eventually, he seems satisfied. He places the knife on the bedside table and leans back to admire his work, a blinding smile lighting up his face. “Now you’re perfect.”
You feel too exhausted to respond, only able to blink your eyes through the tears you have no memory of crying. Your chest throbs and, though you refuse to look down, you can feel the blood soaking through the remnants of your shirt. Hongjoong kisses you on the forehead and climbs off of you, being careful not to jostle the bed with his movements.
With purposeful strides, he makes his way over to the wash basin in the corner of the room, where a rag lies waiting. He picks it up and thoroughly wets it before returning to your side. With a deft hand, he peels away the remaining shreds of your ruined shirt, discarding them carelessly onto the floor. His movements are gentle and almost tender as he wipes away the blood and sweat, all the while holding you still with a firm grip. Despite your attempts to pull away, he murmurs soft reassurances as he tends to your wounds. It's a strange juxtaposition, this act of care and concern from a man who just minutes before carved his initials into your flesh with a dagger. You find yourself almost being lulled to sleep by his sweet words and soft touch.
“My most precious treasure,” he coos, coaxing you back into reality. “I think you deserve a reward.”
Discarding the rag, he once again climbs onto the bed, this time lowering himself down comfortably between your legs. Your stomach tightens with anticipation—this position isn’t one he often favors. He looks up at you through his eyelashes, and he looks so beautiful at this moment that you almost forget how to breathe. The way his tan skin glows in the warm light and sweat sparkles on his brow make him look borderline angelic. Suddenly, you’re struck by the thought that Lucifer, too, was God’s most beautiful angel before he fell.
“Hongjoong…” you murmur his name, breathless.
“Yes?”
“I need you.”
“I know you do. And so you’ll have me.”
Hongjoong loosens the ties at the front of your pants before slipping his fingers beneath them, gently tugging them off of your body along with your undergarments in one swift movement. His fingers trace invisible patterns over the insides of your thighs and his breath ghosts over your core, so close yet so far from where you so desperately need him. He continues teasing you until you’re writhing and begging for more, something, anything.
He laughs at your desperation before finally giving in and pressing his tongue flat against you. The moan you let out is completely wanton, almost animalistic. Your chest still throbs, a grim reminder of your new marking, but the pleasure mixes with the pain in a way that has you feeling lightheaded.
He works his tongue with great skill and when he adds a finger inside of you, you just about melt into the sheets. The sounds you’re making must please him because he hums around your clit, causing your body to jolt as the vibrations send another shockwave of pleasure through you. He adds a second finger and you cry out, thighs tightening around his head. You can’t help but grind against his face, completely dizzy with lust. To your surprise, he lets you, continuing his ministrations with vigor.
You don’t know what you’ve done to deserve this, or how one man can completely overwhelm you with pleasure. No one else you have ever laid with can shine a light on him or the way he makes you feel. You would swear that he was a god or a devil if only you weren’t so privy to the vulnerable, human sides of him. If he needs to cut you or make you bleed so that you can feel like this, so be it. He can do whatever he wishes to you.
Hongjoong curls his fingers against the spot inside of you that makes you see stars and you can feel the waves of your orgasm begin to crash over you. He doesn’t relent, instead sucking your clit into his mouth and helping you over the edge. White heat spreads throughout your body and you shake as you come completely undone beneath him.
You don’t have a chance to collect yourself before Hongjoong adds a third finger. You clamp your thighs down around his head and try to squirm away from his touch, overly sensitive. He doesn’t let you, securing your waist with his other arm. He’s much stronger than he looks and, in the state you’re in, it’s almost no challenge at all to keep you under his control.
“I think you can give me one more, can’t you? And then another after that when I finally plow you into this mattress.”
You wish you could reach down and tear his hand away from you; the feeling of his fingers inside of you after you have so recently orgasmed setting your nerves on fire. “C-can’t— wait, too much—”
“Hush now, slut. I own you and I own this cunt.” His sudden switch from praise to degradation is overwhelming, the possessiveness in his tone making you shudder. “You’re gonna come again, I can already feel it. Do this and I’ll fuck you dumb, just the way you like.”
He’s right—you can already feel yourself clenching around him, your second orgasm approaching so quickly the pain hasn’t even had the chance to fade into pleasure. You tremble under his touch, fresh tears falling down your cheeks. Whatever protests you had die on your lips as all you can manage now are moans and broken mantras that sound like “Joong” and “please”.
You whine as you come again, fresh tears falling down your cheeks. Hongjoong finally relents, pulling his fingers out of you and letting you come back down to earth. You struggle to gain control over your body again, your chest stinging with each heaving breath. Luckily, Hongjoong takes his time freeing himself of his clothes and by the time he’s done, you’re sane enough to speak.
“Bastard.”
He laughs, throwing his head back. “You never stay pliant for long, do you, darling?”
He crawls back onto the bed and cages you in his arms, hovering above you. The way he looks at you now is the same as when he tracks down a lead or finds something he has been searching for, his dark eyes full of pride and hunger for more. He kisses you right above the mark he carved into your chest.
“Well,” he murmurs, breath fanning against your skin, “It wouldn’t be as much fun if you were.”
He reaches down and gives his cock a few lazy strokes before positioning himself at your entrance. You don’t have to look to know that it is an angry red from lack of attention—the way his eyebrows scrunch and he grits his teeth are enough to tell you he’s sensitive to the touch. He doesn’t ask for permission, immediately bottoming out inside of you. You strain against your bonds; if you could, you would be raking your nails down his back.
He sets a relentless pace, lifting up one of your thighs so he can reach even deeper. His bed shakes, banging against the wall of his cabin, and you’re positive that the rest of the crew will find out what you are doing shortly if they haven’t already.
“Oh my god—you’re so fucking—so good, god—”
“Is that what you’re calling me now? Are—fuck—are you going to worship me like one?” He punctuates his statement with an especially hard thrust.
You answer with a loud moan of his name, back arching off of the mattress. “Fuck, yes, whatever you want—please, just—”
He stops abruptly, pulling out of you. You whine at the loss of him and clench around nothing. Despite how desperate he must be to cum, somehow he still manages to look put together with barely a strand of hair out of place. If it wasn’t for the sweat dampening his skin and his labored breathing, you would never guess he was fucking you into oblivion.
He repositions himself so that he’s only supporting his body weight with one hand and wraps the other around your neck, using the lightest amount of pressure. Your breath hitches and your thighs clench instinctively. He maneuvers one of his own thighs between your legs and you grind against it pathetically, searching for any kind of release. He looks oddly triumphant for a reason that you can’t place, but he doesn’t leave you wondering too long.
Leaning down, he nips at your earlobe and whispers, “The information. Give it to me.”
You gasp for air, trying to form a coherent thought. “What?”
“I know you found the location,” he growls, tightening his grip on your neck. “Where is the Cromer?”
You struggle to think straight, your body still reeling from the intense pleasure he just ripped away from you. “I didn’t,” you manage to choke out.
He quirks his scarred eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe.” He moves his thigh against you, brushing against your clit as he does so. You moan and grind down harder against him, but it isn’t enough to satisfy you. “Is this how you want to finish, then? Humping my leg like a bitch?”
“No!” you insist, your voice getting louder. “If I found the location, don’t you think it would be in my possession right now? All I learned is that there’s a guy called ‘Left Eye’ that is supposed to know about it, but I don’t know where he is.”
He doesn’t seem convinced, but he loosens his grip on your neck. “Fine. For now.” He pulls back, shifting his weight and positioning himself between your legs once again. “But I’ll be keeping a closer eye on you from now on. And if you’re lying…”
He lets the threat hang in the air, but you know what he means. You nod, understanding that you’re in a precarious position.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, resuming his thrusts. You bite your lip to keep from moaning too loudly, but it’s no use.
As he continues to pound into you, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge once again. It's like he knows your body better than you do, hitting every spot that sends you spiraling out of control. He buries his face in your neck, biting down harshly on your shoulder. Your whole body jumps, clenching around him, and finally, you hear him moan against your skin. No longer can he act collected, not when your body is so responsive beneath him, not when he’s prolonged his own orgasm for so long it surely hurts.
As you reach your peak, he growls your name, his own orgasm overtaking him simultaneously. He spills inside of you, the feeling of his warm seed filling you up sending you over the edge. You lay there, sweaty and panting, as Hongjoong collapses on top of you. You know that this is not the last time he will hurt you or use you, but you can’t bring yourself to care. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you are his, and he is yours. No matter how fucked up things are, that’s all that matters.
You don’t know how long you stay like that, but eventually Hongjoong pulls out of you and unties your wrists. You immediately stretch, trying to forgo some of the stiffness that comes from being in that position. You can feel the marks he has left on your body and the soreness between your legs, but it doesn't matter. You’ve dealt with worse from him.
You expect him to get up and escort you to the brig now that he’s gotten what he wants from you, but instead he pulls you into his arms. You tense from shock but it doesn’t take long for you to relax, lulled by the feeling of his fingers carding through your hair. As you lay there, listening to the sound of his heartbeat and the creaking of the ship, you can't help but wonder how much longer you can play this dangerous game with the Pirate King before it all comes crashing down.
No more words are shared between the two of you that night and, eventually, Hongjoong falls asleep first. You’ve never been in this position before—never has he let down his guard around you to this extent. You could take revenge on him for all the torture he’s put you through, could stab him through his heart with his own knife. But you won’t. And he knows you well enough to know that.
You wait there, quietly, listening to his steady breathing and observing his face as he sleeps. The harshness that can usually be found in his features is nowhere to be seen, replaced by an uncharacteristic innocence that tugs on your heartstrings. It strikes you how young he looks, not much older than yourself. For the first time, you find yourself wondering why he is the way that he is. Where did his cruelty come from? Has it always been there, or did it seep into him like a poison, spurred on by some traumatic event? There is that side of him that’s gentle, the side of him that inspires the loyalty and respect of his crew. You see it, rarely, when his touches are featherlight and his words sweet as syrup. How different would he be if that part of him was not overshadowed by darkness?
Once you’re sure he’s in a deep enough sleep, you gently remove yourself from his grasp and climb out of bed. You move as quietly as possible, hoping that he’s spent enough from laying with you that he won’t wake as you try to make your escape. The ship most likely hasn’t left the dock yet as Hongjoong was waiting to see if the Cromer was nearby.
Shuffling back into your pants, you pick up the discarded rag Hongjoong used to clean your wound and utilize it as a makeshift bandage to cover the carved initials on your chest; it is the best that you can do for now. You won’t risk stopping by the infirmary out of fear that the crew might catch you. With your shirt torn to shreds, you steal the one that Hongjoong was wearing. He shouldn’t miss it too much.
The air outside is salty and damp, a stark contrast to the warm and intimate atmosphere of Hongjoong's cabin. You pause for a moment to take in your surroundings and confirm that the ship is still in fact docked. Luck is certainly on your side—perhaps you will make an offering to the gods in thanks if you come across a shrine on your journey.
You carefully make your way towards the gangway, keeping as low to the ground as possible. It looks like those that are on the night crew are busy with their own tasks and while you’re sure that someone is positioned in the crow’s nest, they should be focused on the horizon for signs of enemy ships and not on you. Just as you are about to make a run for it, you spot a few figures walking onto the ship and quickly duck behind some supply barrels before they can see you. It seems like San and some other crew members are just returning from a night out, a drunken flush to some of their cheeks.
You quiet your breathing and hope that they pass by without issue. San stops for a moment, looking directly toward your hiding spot, and you almost bolt in panic—you swear that he has inhuman instincts. After a moment, he must figure that he is only imagining things and disappears into the crew’s cabins. Finally in the clear, you take off down the gangway and sprint away into the night, leaving Hongjoong and the Destiny far behind you.
The next morning Hongjoong wakes and reaches for the empty spot in bed next to him, now cold to the touch, realizing that his most precious treasure has slipped from his grasp once again.
#hongjoong x reader#kim hongjoong x reader#ateez x reader#ateez imagines#hongjoong imagines#hongjoong smut#ateez smut#kpop writers#kpop writing#hongjoong fic#kim hongjoong fic#my fic
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Lullaby
Lullaby
Spencer Reid x GN!Reader
a/n: dis is my baby. please be nice to her. i lub her. this is my ultimate romantic fantasy.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kUeDkPMFOuQ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zl0rJvz2N6g
if you want to listen to readers song.
Wordcount: 1.2k
Warnings: none
Masterlist
Spencer sat upright as he once again heard the opening notes of the same piano ballad he had heard three other times this week. The melody just barely echoed through the room, passing through the thin walls like a ghost.
When it started it was three forty eight on a Tuesday morning - the Virginia sun still sat deeply below the horizon and the chill of February was keeping Spencer awake. The song was just loud enough that only someone who was already awake would be able to listen, a secret ode to insomniacs. Spencer attentively listened, shifting to the edge of his bed and straining to hear. On particular nights, such as this one, he would be compelled to crawl out of the warmth of his bed to sit with his back against the door of his apartment, just to be close to the sound.
Some nights he just took in the music, most nights however, he was curious. Spencer Reid was incapable of leaving a mystery unsolved - and thus he took on the case of the mystery lullaby.
It was times like this that he wished he knew his neighbours better - or knew them at all for that matter. His ‘unsub’ surely wasn't the old man who sometimes received his mail, nor was it likely that the chronically hungover group of college boys who only seemed to play rap music were the ones spending their nights playing classical piano.
So he sat, for the fifth time this month, desperately trying to internalize the sound. He so badly wanted to know what the piece was, maybe if he knew it would help him figure out who was behind the playing.
The song ended at three fifty four - cutting itself two minutes short. Spencer began to fear something had happened, why would the song just stop? Should he go investigate? No - he shook the thought. That was a ridiculous notion, it was an ungodly hour - making it entirely probable that the player of said song had just tired of sitting up and wondered back to their bed. With no hope of accomplishing anything by doing the same himself, he got up to go put on a pot of coffee. Spencer’s socked feet padded across the hardwood, the only sounds left echoing in the apartment were his footsteps and the never ceasing hum of traffic on the street that lay under his window.
A long few hours later Spencer found himself sitting cross legged in his desk chair hunched over a stack of files. He was mildly grateful for the numbing paperwork, not sure if his tired mind was up to trying to track down a serial killer today no matter how much coffee he fed it. Not that he was getting much paperwork done anyway, though. He just couldn’t stop replaying the melody in his head.
He was so preoccupied he didn’t even notice Derek and JJ make their way over to his desk, holding a breakfast sandwich out to him.
“Food, Spence” JJ mused when he hesitated to take it, “That big brain of yours needs it.”
Spencer obliged, taking a gratuitous bite. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until he started eating, the whole sandwich was gone in a mere minute or two. He stopped and pondered for a moment, egg still in mouth; he pondered what could draw him so strongly to a person he had never even seen before. He had felt this with Maeve of course, but that was very different. Music can’t replace a conversation, can it?
He decided to ask the only person he knew that was good at this feelings stuff.
“Garcia?” He said tentatively, stepping through the threshold of the batcave door. “Can I talk to you?”
“Of course my sweet baby angel, what can I do for you?”
She could see the hesitation in his eyes. Motioning for him to sit, she put down her lunch and turned her attention towards him fully.
“So this is really strange, and I know it's strange,but I just can’t get it out of my head. There's this piano that plays in my apartment - always late at night, always the same song. It’s driving me crazy. I just want to know who it is, what it is. It's classic for sure, maybe beethoven based on the composition style alone but that isn’t always a definite-”
“Spencer.” Penelope mused, stopping his already derailing train of thought. “Someone is playing piano, and you want to know what it is. What’s the most efficient way to do that?”
Spencer looked up, blinking softly.
Penelope giggled. “You ask.”
“But Penelope I don’t think you really understand, plus what if-” Spencers head was already full of a million hypotheticals.
“No.” He was cut off again. “Go ask.”
~
Three thirty eight AM came faster than it should’ve. A stack of several different books sat discarded upon Spencer's bedside table, all flimsy attempts to distract his buzzing mind. When it started, earlier than it had been many times before, Spencer felt his whole body tense. Was he really about to go knock on some stranger's door? At this hour?
His feet, clad in rubber bottomed slippers, found their way to the door before his mind had time to stop them. He slipped a key in his pocket, turning the latch ever so gently behind him. When he stepped into the hallway it felt infinite. He walked on tiptoe for what seemed like hours, but was really closer to seconds.
The mossy green door stood like a barricade, Spencer's own pulse drowned out any semblance of melody that he could’ve heard before. He raised his hand to knock, it stood surprisingly still in the air, and left three short raps.
The sudden silence was deafening. The crescendo of the melody could never reach its climax, as the pianist was now taking quick, small steps in Spencer's own direction.
In that moment he willed himself to turn around and run off, to let the person on the other side of the door believe they imagined the knocking. Let himself believe he was hearing things, a reminder to call his doctor and his mother.
But alas the chain slid across and let the door fall open, behind it revealing the most beautiful person Spencer had ever seen, which certainly did not ease his anxiety.
“I’m so sorry! Did I wake you? I thought nobody could hear me.” The stranger seemed as anxious as Spencer, but seeing them like this gave him some sort of false security.
“What song is that?” His voice cracked as he spoke, tender from hours of rest.
“It’s-” They faltered, “It’s beethoven. A romance piece.”
It was quiet again, the very thing the music had been used to prevent. They stood like teenagers who were waiting to be scolded. Silently anxious, regretful of their individual curiosities.
The pianist spoke first again.
“I can stop. I really didn’t mean-”
“No. I- uh, I quite like it.”
A soft smile replaced each of their worried faces for a second.
“Do you want to come in? For a cup of tea perhaps? I could use the company.”
Spencer smiled again. He felt a warmth from this stranger that he hadn’t felt in a long time, maybe since Maeve's death.
“I would like that.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds#spencer reid x gender neutral reader#criminal minds fanfiction#dont let this flop pls#lullaby#lightbeyondeden
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A Little Angel (Or Devil?) Chapter 3
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Story Summary: Matt and Reader, happily married at the end of Angel of God, my Guardian Dear, start the next chapter in their life together -- parenthood.
Warnings/Tags: Smut, Unprotected Sex (I mean obviously, Matt and Reader are trying for a baby), Pregnancy and all that comes with it, no graphic depiction of childbirth
Word Count: ~1200
A/N: Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged!
Tag List: @nommingonfood
FlutterFlutterFlutterFlutterFlutterFlutterFlutterFlutterFlutterFlutterFlutterFlutter…
Matt’s head tilted curiously as he stood in the kitchen cleaning up after breakfast. He had been hearing the same strange fluttering sound off and on all morning and he was starting to wonder if a butterfly or something had gotten into the house.
Whatever it was, he wanted to try to get it out before the dining room furniture was delivered in about an hour. He and Y/N had already both taken the day off to deal with accepting and arranging their new furniture, so he didn't want to have to also be spending all day trying to locate then shoo out whatever was flitting around the house as well. “What is that sound?”
“What sound?” Y/N asked as she came up the stairs from the basement. “I don't hear anything.”
Matt listened closer, the sound growing louder as Y/N walked into the kitchen. “It's a fluttering noise. Kinda sounds like a butterfly or a hummingbird beating its wings -- oh.”
Holy shit.
Suddenly it all made sense… the intoxicating change in Y/N's scent, her nausea and fatigue over the past few weeks, the butterfly --
Not butterfly. Heartbeat .
Matt slowly walked towards Y/N, focusing on the sound that he now realized was coming from her abdomen.
He took her hand. “Sweetheart,” he said carefully, “I've been thinking about how you haven't been feeling well for the past few weeks, and um… have you considered the possibility that you might be pregnant?”
Y/N took a surprised step back. “What? No, no, there's no way, right? I mean, my cycle hasn't even really had the chance to get back to normal yet.”
Matt shook his head. “I don't want to get our hopes up in case I'm wrong, but you might want to take a pregnancy test just to make sure.”
Y/N took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay, I -- I actually bought a couple while I was at the pharmacy the other day so I'd have some for when we might need them, but I definitely didn't think it'd be this soon.”
Matt nodded. “Where are they?”
“They're upstairs in our bathroom cabinet.”
“Okay.” Matt bit his lip. “Do you, um, do you want some privacy while you go do that?”
Y/N took his hand. “What? No, of course not. Positive or negative, we find out together.”
They headed upstairs to their bathroom, where Matt spent the longest ten minutes of his life waiting to find out if he and Y/N would be growing their family.
After the alarm on Matt's phone went off Y/N picked up the pregnancy test off of the bathroom sink, her free hand slipping into Matt's.
“Well?” Matt asked nervously. “What does it say?”
Y/N sucked in a breath, her heartbeat quickening. “It’s positive.”
Matt's heart leapt with joy. He had been pretty sure, but to have the news confirmed… “Yeah?”
Y/N let out a watery laugh. “Yeah, it's clearl y positive. I'm pregnant.”
“You're pregnant… You're pregnant!” Matt picked Y/N up and spun her around. “We're going to be parents!”
He gave her a kiss. “Oh my God, I love you so much, angel.”
Y/N kissed him back. “I love you too, Matty.”
Matt tilted his head curiously as she started to giggle. “What's so funny?”
Y/N gently patted Matt's chest. “Of course you'd knock me up immediately after I stopped taking my birth control.”
Matt smirked and wrapped his arms around Y/N's waist. “Well, we have been practicing quite a bit, and you did say that you could tell that the Murdock genes were strong.”
Y/N laughed again. “Yeah, yeah, I know your inner caveman is proud of your ability to procreate so easily. How'd you even figure it out?”
Matt smiled softly. “I can hear the baby's heartbeat.”
Y/N let out a soft gasp. “Really?”
Matt nodded. “Yeah, I'd been hearing it off and on all morning, but I finally realized what it was after I pinpointed where it was coming from.”
He knelt on the floor and lifted Y/N’s shirt up, then nuzzled his nose to her bare stomach before giving it a gentle kiss. “Hi, baby,” he said. “It's Daddy. Mommy and I just found out about you but we love you already and can't wait to meet you.”
Y/N carded her fingers through Matt's hair. “Not too soon, though. We want baby to be fully developed before we welcome them into the world.”
She pulled out her phone. “That reminds me, I should make an appointment with my doctor to get official confirmation from her and make sure everything's okay so far.”
Matt nodded and stood. “Let me know when it is and I'll go with you if you want.”
Y/N gave his hand a squeeze. “Of course, sweetheart.”
Matt waited as Y/N called her doctor's office. "Hi, yes, this is Y/N Murdock, and I need to schedule an appointment with Dr. Miller… I think I might be pregnant and need to have it confirmed. Yeah, I took a test at home this morning and it was positive. Mmhmm, mmhmm, yes, yeah, that's perfect. Okay, see you then. Thanks. Bye."
Y/N hung up. "Dr. Miller actually had an open appointment slot at 2 o’clock this afternoon."
Matt grinned. “That's great. Hopefully we'll have the dining room furniture all in place by then, but if not I can finish dealing with it while you go to your appointment.”
Y/N hummed. “Good thing we're still furniture shopping since we'll be needing to turn one of the spare bedrooms into a nursery sooner than we anticipated.”
“So when do you want to tell everyone? After your appointment, obviously, but I mean how long do we want to wait before we start spreading the news?” Matt wanted to immediately tell all of their loved ones that they were expecting, but he understood if Y/N would want to wait until she was further along.
Y/N was silent for a moment. “I want to tell Aunt Ruth in person but I don't want her to be the last one to find out, so maybe we can get everyone together while she's in town for her birthday in a few weeks and tell them all then.”
Matt nodded. That was completely reasonable. “Okay, yeah, that sounds good.”
He placed a gentle hand on her stomach. “I still can't believe it. I'm so happy, angel.”
Y/N set her hand on top of Matt's and gave him a tender kiss. “I am too, Matty. I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” Matt turned towards the doorway as he recognized the now-familiar sound of the furniture delivery truck pulling up. “The dining room furniture is here.”
Y/N hummed. “Too bad we’ll have to wait until after my doctor's appointment this afternoon to break it in.”
Matt huffed out a laugh as they headed back downstairs. “Oh, don't worry, angel. I'll make absolutely sure it was worth the wait.”
#lotmf writes#matt murdock x fem!reader#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock x y/n#AoG Masterlist#ALA(oD) Masterlist
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A Little Angel (Or Devil?) Chapter 2
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Story Summary: Matt and Reader, happily married at the end of Angel of God, my Guardian Dear, start the next chapter in their life together -- parenthood.
Warnings/Tags: Smut, Unprotected Sex (I mean obviously, Matt and Reader are trying for a baby), Pregnancy and all the fun stuff that comes with it (sarcastic), no graphic depiction of childbirth
Word Count: ~1600
A/N: Warning for folks with emetophobia for this chapter!
Tag List: @nommingonfood
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged!
Matt whistled cheerfully as he walked home from the office a few weeks later. He had just wrapped up a case for an affluent client which meant that the firm was going to be able to keep the lights on for another few months, Foggy had told him that he had finally asked Karen out on a date, and it was Thursday, which meant that he and Y/N would be spending the weekend breaking in the new living room furniture that would be arriving Saturday morning.
He walked up the steps to his and Y/N’s house and unlocked the door, frowning when he was greeted with silence.
Normally on the days Y/N arrived home before Matt he would hear her getting started on dinner in the kitchen or at the very least moving around upstairs, but today there was no sound.
Matt stepped further into the foyer, trying to remember if Y/N had told him that she had made plans with Jessica for after work. “Y/N? You home, angel?”
He tilted his head as he heard the slow, steady rhythm of Y/N’s heartbeat coming from the back of the house.
He headed down the hall towards the dining room. “Sweetheart?”
He paused as he reached the garden room and realized that Y/N was fast asleep on the couch.
He crept closer to her and knelt on the floor, gently brushing his hand across her forehead and frowning when she felt a bit warmer than usual. “Y/N? Angel?”
Y/N stirred and let out a soft sigh. “Matty?”
Matt nodded. “Yeah, sweetheart, it's me.”
“What time is it?”
“About 7:15.”
Y/N groaned and sat up. “Shit, I'm sorry, honey. I wasn't feeling well after I got home from work so I laid down in here for just a second. I must've fallen asleep. ”
Matt's brow furrowed at the weak sound of her voice. “You okay, angel?”
“Mm mmm.” Y/N sighed. “I feel drained. Hope I'm not coming down with something.”
Matt felt Y/N's forehead again. “You do feel a bit warm. Maybe you should take tomorrow off to rest.”
Y/N shook her head. "I can't, I have that --"
She suddenly cut herself off and jumped up, running through the dining room towards the first floor bathroom.
Matt winced at the sound of Y/N throwing up and followed, pausing at the doorway. “You okay, angel?”
Y/N groaned from where she was hunched over the toilet. “Maybe you're right. Maybe I should take tomorrow off to rest.”
Matt entered the bathroom and knelt down next to Y/N, reaching his hand out to rub her back soothingly. “I'm sorry you're not feeling well, sweetheart.”
“Ugh, this is the worst time for me to have to be sick. I'm supposed to be recording the audio version of our newsletter tomorrow morning, plus we're gearing up for the start of summer reading next week.”
Matt shook his head. “Your health is more important. Hopefully you'll be feeling better and can do the newsletter in a few days, otherwise I'm sure someone else can fill in. In the meantime you need rest.”
“Mmm.”
Matt went to the kitchen and filled a glass with some water before bringing it to Y/N. “Here, you need to stay hydrated if you're throwing up.”
Y/N hummed. “Thanks, Matty.”
She took the glass from Matt and swished some water around in her mouth before spitting it into the toilet, then took a cautious sip. “Ugh.”
“Better?”
“Little bit. Thanks, honey.” Y/N took another sip of water. “Maybe I should sleep downstairs for a few days. I don't want to give you whatever this is I've got.”
Matt shook his head. “We've already been in extremely close contact so if whatever you have is contagious chances are I've already caught it. Luckily though, I've got a pretty strong immune system so if I haven't already gotten sick I'll probably be fine.”
He went to help Y/N up. “Besides, what kind of husband would I be if I didn't take care of my wife in her time of need? After all, our wedding vows did say ‘in sickness and in health’.”
Y/N leaned against him. “I love you, you know that?”
Matt planted a kiss on her forehead. “I love you too. Now, we're gonna get you in bed, then I'm gonna go get you some chicken soup.”
Y/N hummed. “Could I have some egg drop soup from the Chinese restaurant on the corner instead?”
Matt chuckled. “Of course, angel. I'll call in a delivery order for dinner, how about that?”
Y/N nodded against him. “Okay.”
Matt helped Y/N up the stairs to their bedroom and paused in their doorway. “Want to shower first?”
Y/N hummed. “Yeah, that might help.”
Matt nodded. “Okay, you go do that, I'll order our food.”
“Okay.”
Matt called in their delivery order while Y/N gathered her pajamas, then waited until she had headed into the bathroom before making a second call.
“Mr. Murdock?” said the voice on the other end.
“Yeah, kid, it's me,” Matt replied. “Are you going to be patrolling tonight?”
“Yeah, I was planning on it. Why?”
“I was wondering if you could make a couple of passes around the Kitchen for me. Something came up so I'm staying in.”
“Everything okay?”
Matt winced as he heard Y/N throwing up again. “Yeah, it's just that my wife's not feeling well and I don't want to leave her home alone.”
“Oh, okay, it's no problem, Mr. Murdock, I can do that for you. And I hope Mrs. Murdock feels better soon.”
Matt nodded. “Thanks, Peter, I owe you one.”
“Okay, talk to you later!”
“Bye.”
Matt hung up then texted Foggy as the shower turned on. Working from home tomorrow. Y/N’s sick.
Oh no, was Foggy's reply. Hope she feels better soon. Let me know if you two need anything.
Thanks. Will do.
He put his phone away and headed downstairs, the scent of Chinese food wafting towards him as their delivery order neared.
He grabbed two bottles of water out of the refrigerator, waited until the delivery person rang the doorbell, then accepted the order and took it upstairs, setting it on the dresser as Y/N walked out of the bathroom.
Matt turned towards her. “Feeling better?”
Y/N hummed. “I think so.”
Matt gave her a kiss, tasting the slightly minty flavor of toothpaste on Y/N’s lips. “You get settled in bed and I'll bring your soup to you, okay?”
“Okay.”
Matt set his takeout container on his nightstand along with one of the bottles of water before handing Y/N her soup. “Here you go, angel.”
Y/N gave an appreciative hum. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
Matt set the other bottle of water on Y/N’s nightstand along with an extra bottle of ginger ale he had added to their food order. “Here, I'm hoping the soup and ginger ale settle your stomach.”
He moved to his side of the bed to eat, keeping his attention on Y/N in case she got sick again.
Once Y/N was finished, he took her empty container. “Feeling ok so far?”
Y/N was quiet for a moment. “Yeah, it's staying down.”
Matt nodded. “Okay, good. Let me go take care of this stuff, I'll be right back.”
He ran downstairs, rinsing out their containers before placing them in the recycling bin.
He headed back upstairs, grabbing a clean pair of boxers from the dresser. “I'm gonna go grab a quick shower. Need anything?”
“Mm mmm.” Y/N shifted against the bedsheets as she settled in. “Tired.”
“Okay. Be right back.”
Matt hurried through showering and brushing his teeth then headed back into the bedroom, climbing into bed next to Y/N.
He wrapped his arms around her and leaned back, pulling her to him. “Come here, sweetheart.”
Y/N snuggled up to him. “You aren't going out Daredeviling tonight?”
Matt shook his head. “No, not tonight. I asked Spiderman to keep an eye out for me in case anything pops up, and I also told Foggy I was working from home tomorrow. You're my number one priority, angel, I'm not going to leave you here alone when you're not feeling well.”
“Thank you, Matty.” Y/N nuzzled her nose into Matt's chest. “Mmm, you smell good.”
Matt chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Get some rest, okay? I'm not going anywhere.”
Y/N nodded. “Mmhmm.”
Matt gently stroked her hair until her breathing turned deep and even.
After she was asleep he slowly reached over and pulled his ear buds out of his nightstand drawer, then connected them to his phone so the noise wouldn't disturb Y/N.
Matt had sworn back when he and Y/N were kids that he would always do anything and everything he possibly could to take care of her when she wasn't feeling well. I'll always take care of you, Y/N, he had said the time Y/N had been ill with the flu when she was 14 and Matt had been 15. That's what best friends are for.
He opened the online ordering app for the grocers a couple of blocks over and ordered the ingredients for homemade chicken soup along with some peppermint herbal tea for delivery the following morning in case Y/N still wasn't feeling well.
He put his phone and earbuds away then settled in to sleep. He just hoped that Y/N felt better soon.
#lotmf writes#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x fem!reader#matt murdock x f!reader#ALA(oD) Masterlist#AoG Masterlist
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A Little Angel (or Devil?) Masterlist
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4 (Coming Soon)
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