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#rooftop tag baby
mrcspectr · 2 years
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rn the roomie is showing off the House Weaponry and i was thinkin abt the way marc kind of . seems to ? avoid fighting with knives ? and was just like . exploding bc im. watching the way marc brawls on the rooftop & he . he constantly knocks knives to the ground but he keeps his own hands weapon-free. the moment marc gets his hands on a knife, the fight’s over too quick (at least for bad guy #1)- and suddenly steven takes the wheel.
and then the next time there’s a knife in Marc’s hand it’s certainly not nice and shiny like it was before- no, it’s buried in bad guy #1’s gut. there’s so much more blood.
… listen i came into this ask wondering if marc and jake had different styles of fighting with weapons- with knives specifically- and walked out with too many more questions than i had answers.. Marc’s movements with the knife were. very certain and fluid- well practiced, even. and yet he seems to shy away from picking one up- he sticks to his fists.
It doesn’t help that there’s not much footage on how jake uses a knife, we just see the .. result. anyways this is for you to munch on when you find a spare thought cos i know this’ll be rotating in my brain on repeat for a goooood long while. skdjdksj byeeee
Percy, have I ever mentioned how much I love when you talk to me about House Weaponry? lsdgjskljgs ANYWAY. I have.. commentary on this.
So, in that scene on the rooftop, there's three guys he's fighting total, five knives (the particularly flashy guys are carrying two. Y'know. For funsies, I guess.) The confrontation starts with Marc being, bless his heart, more himself than we see very often. A little sassy, a lighthearted jab here and there. Oh shit, you killed him? I needed to talk to that guy. Oh. What, are we dancin'? We fightin'? What are we gonna do? He's more comfortable, the situation more familiar.
And throughout the fight, he's more focused on getting the knives out of their hands. He disarms, but he doesn't necessarily take advantage of the weapon itself. (It's something we learn in combat self defense, your best chance of survival is to take the knife out of the fight entirely.) Marc's strategy is this:
Guy #1: Dodge the first slash so the knife is already directed away from him, takes his wrist holding the second knife, forces it in the same direction so both points are no longer a threat, and uses his own momentum to push him away, falling to the ground.
Kid and Guy #2: In the time it takes Marc to land a solid kick on someone else, the kid manages a good slash against his back, distracting him from the older men. When he tries again, Marc grabs at the wrist holding the knife, twisting the joint in a way that makes it fall from his grip. It's important to note too that he hesitates for a second, striking his back with an open palm instead of a closed fist. Less pain, more jarring or surprising than anything.
Guy #1 again: He crosses the guys arms across each other, making it pretty difficult to near impossible to stab forward. He brings his knee up to strike his wrist, and so another knife falls. The second knife comes up, and Marc strikes again to the same result.
With every motion and decision Marc makes, a weapon falls to the ground. But he doesn't reach for it, not until the end. And even then he's angry, the adrenaline is pumping, he's reaching for that familiar violence, but at the last moment, Steven steps in. That's enough.
And I used to think it was so strange, because Marc's very familiar with utilizing the crescent darts when he's wearing the suit. There are multiple times he uses them to stab, to cut, to slash, in the same way a knife would be handled. So why did he seem so against taking advantage of a dropped weapon, when he was very clearly outnumbered? And then I remember this line:
Or it was just a way for me to keep being what I've always been. A killer.
And that is Marc's entire struggle with his identity as Moon Knight, isn't it? He refuses to accept that certain satisfaction he finds in his own violence, because in doing so, he thinks he's confirming everything his mother ever made him believe. He finds it easier to use those weapons wearing the armor because he thinks he can almost.. draw a line between himself and what he becomes as an Avatar. He can separate the two.
And by trying to put those different parts into neat little boxes, that is what causes him to believe he hates being Moon Knight. Because he puts all that anger and violence, those things that he hates, all in that same box. That internal conflict arises when the line becomes blurry, or it disappears entirely, like that moment on the rooftop.
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eyrie voice I love babies I hate babies I understand babies very well I am terrified of babies I will simply carry around a baby if handed to me I am not at all traumatized by babies
#i go through this cycle every two weeks I’m getting it out of my system now#post the same five fun facts but bot howdy I think#silly post to disguise character lore in the tags#anyway! with the birth of Aoife and her younger sister eyrie made up excuses to come back#right around the correct time just to see the babies#with Aoife’s sister though they got the worst pit in their stomach for days#and came back even though it had only been six months#so they were there for her birth but sadly her death as well#eyrie was around a bit when Halvi was first born#they were around for her mother’s pregnancy. mainly providing what they could to see after their needs#rather than being there emotionally#halvi has a very different view of eyrie compared to like. bisha and bijou#she knew what her mother told her and what scattered bits she recalls#and it’s that they often seemed distant unfeeling and uncaring—but deeply sad nonetheless#one of halvi’s far back fuzzy memories is of eyrie sitting out on the rooftop garden#of the small little one room house her mother had#they were watching the stars and she would try and talk to them#and they would look down at her and not speak#but beckon for her to come up and sit with them#her crawling into their lap and them wrapping her up and holding her close#mumbling singing something and rocking gently#she has a hard time hating them because she knows they loved her#but they were hurting and she was young and she figured out far too late that it’s not her job to save her parents#boy howdy I’m gonna draw halvi today#i tlak about her enough I should just draw her#oc: eyrie kisne#oc: halvi
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sanguineterrain · 8 months
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sunset anew | dick grayson
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Summary: You're a little nervous to become the Mrs. Grayson. Luckily, your husband-to-be knows just what to say to soothe your worries. 
Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader 
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings/tags: wedding, anxious reader, the batfam actually gets along, fluff!! (dick is my wife.)
If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡
the divider
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Contrary to popular belief, Gotham isn't a complete eyesore. 
Sure, it's no vacation spot, and it's probably not the ideal place to settle down. But there are beautiful parts within the grunge. 
Your wedding planner had shown you multiple locations, from Napa to the Bahamas. Bruce had insisted cost was no problem.
But that wasn't what made you choose Gotham. 
Your forearms rest on the polished stone-top railing that surrounds the rooftop of the nicest hotel in the city. Thirty-two floors, all rented out for you. 
You look down at the tiny cars and people below. Your heart swoops. 
Your heels are in one hand. The sun crests the horizon; soon, yellow will melt into buttery orange and pink. It’s the first sunset you knew. The only sunset you know. And it’s the same one you saw the first time you met your almost-husband.
You'd come up here so you wouldn't miss it. Just this one time.
“Found her!”
You jump as the roof access door opens. Damian and Duke walk out. Duke gives you a warm smile.
"Jesus, you guys," you say, hand on your chest. “Way to scare a girl.”
“Sorry. You look really nice,” Duke says, smoothing his bowtie. 
Damian crosses his arms, clearly unimpressed.
“Frightening you is the least of our concerns. We thought you’d run. Which would be understandable, considering the family you’re marrying into, but Father spent a lot renting the hotel. Plus, Grayson would’ve been inconsolable, and extremely annoying.”
“Dude,” Duke says, elbowing Damian. “Chill out. It’s not like she was actually going to leave him at the altar.” He squints at you. “Were you?”
“No! I wasn’t going to leave him at the altar, oh my God.”
Damian nods. “Good." He taps his watch and speaks into it. "Grayson, our work is done. Come to the roof.”
Duke gives you a wave and they wordlessly leave the way they came. You sigh and start to slip your heels back on. There’s some whispering at the bottom of the stairs, and Damian shouts “no!” before it’s silent. 
You have one heel on when Dick emerges.
He’s unfairly handsome in his tux, hair somehow both neat and tousled. He also has what looks to be Damian’s tie wrapped around his eyes. You step out of your heel, unsure.
"Hey, sweetheart," he says, sounding genuinely apologetic. "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to scare you."
"It’s okay, baby. Why are you blindfolded?"
"Bad luck to see the bride, duh."
You can't help your idiotic grin at that. "I think it'll be fine, Gray. You didn’t have to take his tie.”
"Maybe you haven't met my family; we're not known for our good luck streaks.”
"I'm madly in love with you,” you say, feeling gooey.
Dick beams, and you nearly forget about the sunset altogether. 
"I'm madly in love with you too." 
You kiss him and he blindly returns it, following your lips even after you step back. You cluck your tongue and nudge him away. He obeys, though not without sliding his hand onto your waist and tugging you away from the roof. You follow because he's such a worrier.
Dick reaches for your hand and squeezes. 
"You okay?" he asks.
"Yeah. Sorry I disappeared. I didn’t know the calvary would be sent after me.”
“Yeah, uh…” Dick rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Again. I got worried.”
The guilt sinks its claws deeper. You frown and touch his cheek. 
“I would never leave you at the altar, Dick.”
“I know! I know that. They’re idiots; don’t listen to ‘em, whatever they said."
You cup his face with both hands and kiss him again. He squeezes your wrists and you can feel the relief rolling off him in waves, as much as he tries to hide it. 
“Was my absence noticeable?” you ask.
"Just to us. Don’t worry about it. The Wayne family are professional crowd entertainers."
"I take it Bruce is doing card tricks?"
"Yep,” Dick says. “He’s pretty good too. Might retire the suit." 
You laugh. "Sorry I'm missing it."
"Trust me, you'll get your fill soon."
“We can go down now,” you offer, even though you’re still waiting for that sunset. 
He shakes his head. “There’s no rush.”
You smile and rest your head on Dick's shoulder. He accepts you instantly and wraps his arm around your waist.
"You feel really beautiful," he says. 
"Charmer."
"I'm serious!"
"I know. That's why I'm so damn sweet on you, Gray."
"I've got a shot with you, then?" he asks. 
"Oh, big time." 
He nuzzles your neck. You breathe in his scent: wine from earlier, detergent, the hair gel he uses to effortlessly capture the bed head look. 
"We didn't have to do this today, you know,” he says, voice vibrating through you. 
You pick your head up in alarm. 
"What're you talking about?" 
"If-if you're getting cold feet, I mean," he adds. "Second thoughts. We can always reschedule."
"Dick, no, I'm not getting second thoughts. I want to marry you today. I will marry you, okay? We've been together for almost four years."
"So? You know how long Batman and Catwoman have been skirting around each other? We've all got a wager going. Including Alfred!"
You snort. "Okay, well, excuse me if I don't want your family to bet on how long it's going to take us to marry."
"Afraid that ship's sailed."
"Of course it has."
You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in. His arms drape over your hips. You trace the shape of his lips with your index, up his Cupid's bow and up the tip of his nose. Dick has such a lovely nose. You've always thought so. 
“So who bet that I’d actually made a run for it?”
“That feels like a trick question,” he says. 
“Jason?"
“Jason adores you, actually. He didn’t doubt your loyalty once.”
“Damian had his doubts." 
“Damian's thirteen, he doesn’t know shit.”
You snort and kiss his cheek. “Well, I forgive him. He was protecting you, that’s all.”
"If it helps, everyone else was certain of your loyalty," Dick says, letting you paw at his face. “Myself included.”
"That does help, actually.”
Dick stops your hand in its journey and rests your palm on his cheek. 
"What were you thinking about?" he asks quietly. 
You stiffen a little. "Nothing. Just needed some air."
"You sure?" 
You know what he's doing: feeling your pulse to see if it changes, listening to your breathing, watching if your shoulders tense. He's a detective first, and a damn good one. 
You slump in defeat. 
"What if I'm not… good at this? At being… us?”
"What?" Dick asks in disbelief. "What are you talking about? Of course you’ll be good at it. The real worry is me, babe. I mean, you're incredible. I'm the one who runs around in spandex at night." 
"Gray, I'm serious," you say, resting your head on his heart. "All those people who’ve been watching us, waiting for the future Mrs. Grayson to slip up. I just—I can't help but wonder if it's prophetic. I wonder if maybe you deserve more." 
"Hey. Now I can't predict the future. But even if I could, I don't believe there is a timeline out there where I could ever want or need anyone but you. And you're not alone in this, you know? I'm scared too. I'm terrified I'm putting you in danger. Of fucking up completely. But I also know that sometimes… we get good things, you know? It's not all doom and gloom. I mean, you being in my life is proof of that." 
God, he always knows how to make your heart ache just right. 
"I really want us to work," you whisper, clutching his suit coat. "I just don't wanna let you down, Gray." 
"Baby," Dick says, curling around you. "Sweetheart, where did this come from? What makes you think that? You've never let me down, not once. I love you. It's okay if you feel like you don't know what you're doing, 'cause I don't know either." 
You reach to untie the tie. Dick lightly grabs your hand, but you continue to tug anyway. 
"Wait, babe—"
"Dick, it's okay. I want to see your eyes. Please?" 
He lets you pull it off. He squints at the light, adjusting. Then his gaze drops to you and his lips part.
"Wow," Dick says, hands sliding up your arms. 
You smile. "Like it? Selina helped me pick the dress, so it's all thanks to her."
"Fuck, baby. I wanna marry you right now. Screw everyone down there. Let's elope."
You laugh, combing back his hair with your fingertips and tucking loose strands behind his ears. 
"Gray, you know we can't do that. What about Bruce? He'd be devastated and more than rightfully pissed."
He shrugs. "So what? I'm the favorite, I can get away with it."
"Well, what about Alfred? You'd break his heart."
Dick pauses, mulling that over. You kiss his chin. 
"Damn it," he says. "You're right. I couldn't do that to him. He's arguably more excited about our wedding than we are." 
"Mmhm. But I appreciate your attempt to be spontaneously romantic," you say, smiling. 
Dick tugs you closer still, rubbing your back. 
"I would elope," he says. "If you really wanted to. You could convince me to do just about anything. Even if it unleashed Alfie's wrath."
"Don't tell me that," you chide playfully. "You'll give a girl all sorts of notions." 
"Oh, I'm counting on it."
Dick starts to kiss up your neck and you happily let him, eyes slipping closed. It's good, until—
THUMP!
You jump. Dick immediately pushes you behind him. 
The roof access door swings out so hard it slams against the wall. Jason glares, bowtie already loosened. 
"Are you fucking kidding me? You're gonna miss your own wedding, dumbass!" He nods at you. "Hey, future sis. Looking good." 
"Thanks, Todd." 
"Mm. Everything okay?" 
You smile. "Everything's wonderful."
"Yeah, I'm okay too, thanks," Dick says, scowling. 
"I know you're fine, idiot. Now come put a ring on it before Alfred hunts you down himself." 
Jason turns on his heel, shaking his head. "Responsible one, my ass…"
You look at Dick, grinning. 
"Seems like we should go do the marriage thing," you say.
"Seems like." He squeezes your hip. "Do you feel better?"
"Yeah, Gray. I do. Thanks. I love you."
"Love you too, baby. Let's go marry the hell out of each other." 
The sunset has morphed into a violet night. But you don't mind that you missed it; you know there will be countless sunsets to come. 
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madds-is-ace-trash · 1 year
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Nightwing why are you warring a cape? Well for the baby of course! Dcxdp
This takes place in the same universe as my fic Mother of the storm and her star child.
A few years have passed and Danny is completely settled in and moved to bulhaven with dick. Eventually around the time he’s Turing 9 he insists that he wants to go out at night with dick. Dick is hesitant but Danny insist, pointing out how his abilities would make him the perfect recon detective. Dick can no longer argue when Danny beats both Damian and Cass the first day of training and he is out out in the field.
Danny hose out in his ghost form and picks the name phantom because it feels right and now nightwing patrols with a bird if his very own for the first time in a while. Danny is very good on patrols, he sticks close to dick often clinging to him and hiding behind him when dick is interacting with people. He’ll often turn invisible but it still doesn’t fell like enough to dick. He quickly released that he missed the cape and the layer of securing it added when Damien was his Robin.
So nightwing starts wearing a cape, and the people of his city starts coming up with all sorts of theories for the sudden change. The range from him practicing because he’s taking over the cowl to him hiding new gadgets. Very few have seen Danny and those who have are often not believed because, “nightwing had glowing eyes under his cape!” Is not very believable.
He doesn’t wear the cape all the time just when he has Danny, the cape is long the outside is black but the inside has a blue and black feather design so it looks like wings when he glides. It has a feature where it retracts in to a role on his back when he need more freedom of movement. And I’m addition to the cape he now has an extra loop hanging form his belt for Danny to grab on to as the hop rooftops. (Danny can will him self to weigh nothing so dick tends to pull him along as he floats any way)
As the news of dicks sudden costume adjustment is circulating he has to come to the watchtower with B for a mission. Danny tags along hiding in his cape like all the Robin had before him with Bruce. Meanwhile Bruce is totally not going all mushy over his grandson he is totally normal about this. All of the Leagers keep giving dick looks.
Until flash finally ask
Wally: so um nightwing what’s with the cape? I thought you hated them?
Dick*with a bright smile across his face*: it’s for my shadow!
Wally: your shadow? How is a cape ganna hide your shadow.
Dick: no not my actual shadow it’s to hide my bird.
Diana: your bird?
*Dick flares one side of the cape revealing the feathered pattern underneath but nothing else is visible hidden under the cape*
Wally: I don’t se-
Dick: whistles like a bird call
Danny slowly fading in to view giving the league a small wave as he scrambles to hide behind dicks legs: Hello
Hal: really Bruce another one!?
Dick Smiling at the small boy in his cape before closing it : nope this one’s all mine!
Meanwhile John Constantine who is present for this mission is freaked the fuck out. Because that kid with the flowing white hair and glowing freckles is definitely not human. And worse than that from what he can sense it’s pretty darn powerful to. He watches as all of his coworkers are working to get the boy out from hiding cooing over him.
Clark: he’s looking a lot better nightwing
Wally: Waite you already new about him?
Clark: yes the boy is nightwings child I’m guessing he only is just now joining the team
Diana: what’s your name little one?
Danny poking his head out of the cape: phantom my name is phantom
Fuck why was that name familiar? Oh shit that’s right John had heard rumors of the new ghost king and a prince milling around the infinite realms this must be the little ghost prince. How the fuck did dick end up with him? Waite sups said that was dicks kid, hold did dick?
John: ha Oh my god! You crazy fucker you fucked the ghosts king!
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angelltheninth · 10 months
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Perhaps you could write about how they would react if Y/N was bitten/stung by a breeding spider?. Yes, that's right, reproduction baby hehe. I don't care what the character's gender is. Would it be possible to describe the headcanons?👉🏻👈🏻
(I already apologize for the spelling mistakes, I'm using the translator :D)
Spiderverse🙏🏻
Oh fun, breeding kink is always fun.
Pairing: Ben Reilly, Peter B. Parker, Miguel O'Hara, Noir x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, breeding kink, feral sex, creampie, pregnancy mention, dirty talk, wall sex, rooftop sex, kind of sex pollen, pheromones
A/N: Added Ben this time around, I think I might include him in some other future stuff too.
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Ben doesn't want to take advantage of you when you come on to him and tell him about your problem. He also can't deny that he's very, very horny for you. Despite it not being a good idea he can't have you go home like this, he can't have you swinging in between buildings in such a state. But he needs to make sure you want this. Yanking his pants down and sucking his cock because you were so needy for cum is a good argument. The issue is you don't just need to taste him to make this go away, you also need to feel him inside you.
"You really want it? Are you sure, I need to know. I know its hard to talk while you're sucking on my dick but I need to be sure before we go any further. Baby, you know I want you, I want to tear that suit off your body and fill you with cum but I need you to say that you need me to do it. Hah, I'm not teasing you I promise."
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Peter is hesitant because you're currently on a rooftop together and you can't seem to move an inch without moaning. He can't leave you here and he can carry you because he knows the moment he touches you he won't be able to resist your charms. You don't want him to resist, you don't care that he's a hero and you a civilian, you need his cock and you need it now, you need his cum inside you, you need him to breed you right now. All this talk of breeding has his senses going haywire, his hands desperately finding your ass as you drop your pants and offer him your pussy, which he sinfully takes.
"I know you're scared right now, you don't know what's happening to you, but I promise I'll help. I'm here for you sweetheart. Ah, your pussy feels good around my cock, a wet mess and I just put it in. You won't last long, I know you won't but don't worry, just need to get some cum in that cunt and you'll be good as new won't you?"
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Miguel can't resist the pull the pheromones have on him. He's pinning you against the nearest wall, kissing you, teeth scraping against your neck as he tells you he needs you just as much as you need him right now. The feeling is mutual, and the pleasure will be too. Let him take these suits off and he'll give you what you crave. His cock and cum, to have his babies right? He knows, you can't your desires from him because they're his desires too. They have been ever since you started working together.
"Fill you up, I'll fill that pussy up with so much cum you'll be pregnant in to time. Such a good hole, taking me so eagerly. Are you sure this is due to the spider bite? I think... fuck... I think you're not being honest here. You'd want me regardless, I've seen how you look at me. I know this is a bit backwards but after this let me take you on a date hum? Prove to you I mean this, that you're not just a warm hole to be fucked."
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Noir doesn't want to risk your professional relationship by having sex with you in a deluded state of mind. He tries to give you space while also being close to you in case of real danger but you quickly make your way onto his lap, saying how you don't need any space between you two, in fact it'd be better if there was none at all. He curses his judgement as he pushes you to the floor, rutting his clothed hard cock against your pussy almost animalistically. He hates that he's letting his desires take over his rational part of mind but he can't lie to himself, he wants to see what you look like when you're painted white.
"What have you... I can't think about anything but your pussy. Shit, I need you, fucking need to feel you, see you taking my dick. You look beautiful when you're rolling your hips into me, your mind is mush right now isn't it? This will help, I think. If you... I promise you I'm not the kind of man to run from my actions, I'll take responsibility for this, weather you be pregnant after or not."
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bellaxgiornata · 3 months
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Seeking Forgiveness [Part Seven]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.6k
[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]
Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader
a/n: I have finally gotten this update up for y'all! It's been written and sitting waiting for over a month, but now that I'm not trying to write holiday fics (though I might still write that Owen Sleater one), it's back to business as usual! Feedback is always appreciated!
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Fidgeting with the beer bottle between his fingers, Matt wasn't paying much attention to the room around him. Which said a lot about his current focus considering how loud Josie’s bar was this evening with the crowd that had filled the space tonight. He also wasn't paying any attention to the conversation Foggy and Karen had struck up a while ago at their table about a client they'd met with earlier today. Because despite the fact that Matt was currently sitting with the pair of them drinking back his beer, his attention was entirely elsewhere this evening. On you a couple of blocks away in your apartment.
Admittedly there wasn’t very much that he could pick up on at this distance where he sat at Josie’s, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from trying to hear what he could–even if he knew he shouldn't be invading your privacy like this. It was already bad enough he always stopped by at the beginning and end of his patrols, always wanting to make sure things were alright. Though deep down he knew he kept doing it because he was desperate to feel connected to the pair of you somehow. He just couldn't seem to stay away despite that being what you seemed to want him to do. 
His eyes narrowed in concentration behind the lenses of his glasses. It sounded like you were cleaning up whatever dinner you'd made in your kitchen, which made sense considering the hour. You usually ate around this time after work. As he listened to the faint sounds of dishes clinking together, he wondered what you’d made to eat tonight. You'd been craving pesto pasta like crazy but constantly kept forgetting to add the items to your grocery list. Something Matt only knew because of his new habit of lingering on your rooftop as Daredevil, not because you'd actually spoken to him recently and told him yourself. For which he kept chastising himself about doing, except he couldn't seem to stop eavesdropping. 
Like right now.
Despite you making it clear you wanted nothing to do with him for the time being, he had tried calling you repeatedly in the hopes of finding a vastly healthier and less invasive way to stay connected with you, but you'd only answered once and it was to ask him to stop calling. You told him when you were ready to talk that you'd reach out to him. Which meant he hadn't tried to show up at your apartment as Matt Murdock, trying to respect your wishes. But that ultimately put him in a difficult position, because not communicating with you meant he couldn't prove himself to you–couldn’t prove how sorry he was for what he’d done. He'd been back and forth on that for the past two days, constantly feeling like the clock was ticking on him finding some way back into your life to show you that you and that baby were what he wanted.
An abrupt, loud snapping noise sounded directly in front of Matt’s face and he jumped in his chair, blinking rapidly a few times behind his glasses. The noise instantly had broken his concentration from his thoughts and your apartment, something that had taken him quite a few minutes to lock in on in the first place considering the distance.
“Matt, buddy, you in there?” Foggy asked.
Matt cleared his throat, forcing a smile onto his face at the sound of his friend's voice. Gradually and begrudgingly his attention and senses returned to the bar around himself.
“Yeah, sorry,” he replied. “Was just zoning out, I guess.”
“Thinking about her again, aren’t you?” Foggy solemnly asked.
“Kind of hard not to,” he muttered.
He felt Karen’s hand land gently on his shoulder before giving it a comforting squeeze. He glanced in her direction, sending the tense smile her way. Despite how much he'd screwed things up with you, and how much Foggy and Karen cared about you, they'd still been incredibly supportive of him. They'd even been understanding of his initial angry outburst at the office for which Matt had guiltily apologized for numerous times by now.
"She's doing alright," Karen assured him. "Though I'm guessing you already know that."
Matt ducked his head, awkwardly running a hand across his mouth as he felt the guilt burn within him. There was no point in denying it. You had to have already figured it out yourself when he'd left that stuffed narwhal at your apartment after you'd gone back to sleep the other night. It wasn't as if he'd expected that to make you feel any differently about him, but he hoped you knew that he was still here. Still around. Still thinking about the both of you. Still wanting the both of you. 
"Yeah, I stop there at night," Matt admitted awkwardly. "Not for long," he lied, "just enough to know things are alright. That she doesn't need anything. And to uh…hear the heartbeat."
Truthfully it had become his new favorite sound, even more than the beat of your own familiar heart. It was muffled but strong, faster than the usual heartbeats he heard all day long. 
"Have you tried just showing up?" Foggy asked curiously. "You know, the way people usually do, not the way you usually do? Just to see what would happen?"
Matt shrugged, shifting in his chair. "I've thought about it," he answered. "I'm just always torn between respecting her boundaries and wanting to show her that I'm still here for her. That I want to be. But I'm always afraid if–” he paused, wincing as the thought crossed his mind. “I'm afraid if I do, it'll only upset her more. Push her away from me even further.”
Karen hummed in thought beside Matt. The sound caught his attention, his head tilting a bit to the side towards her. The noise almost sounded like one of disagreement. 
“What?” Matt asked. 
“I think,” Karen began carefully, “that she's actually a bit conflicted.”
Matt's attention focused entirely on Karen now as he straightened in his chair. His brows rose up curiously onto his forehead, eager for her to elaborate. 
“Conflicted?” he asked curiously. “Conflicted how? About what? Me?”
“Yes,” Karen answered with a faint nod. “I mean she obviously still loves you, Matt. That doesn't just disappear overnight. Ideally I think she'd want you to be raising the baby with her from the way she talks. Going through all of this with her. But she's still hurt. And she's scared. And she, well, obviously still doesn't believe her and the baby would be a priority to you.”
Matt twisted in his seat, fully facing Karen. “So what're you saying?” he pressed.
He heard the way the air shifted as Karen shrugged beside him. Her lip suddenly caught between her teeth where she lightly chewed it for a moment. The pause was killing Matt, his hand tightening around the neck of his beer bottle. 
“I'm saying I think you should find an excuse and show up at her place,” Karen eventually replied. She held up a finger as she quickly amended, “As Matt, not you-know-who. Don't push her boundaries, just show up long enough to show her you're still here, like you’ve been wanting to do. That you're not giving up. I think she needs that more than she's letting on to you. Maybe…find some sort of way to show her you're trying to be a supportive future father and partner.”
“Okay,” Matt mused, running a frustrated hand through his hair and mussing it as his thoughts began to race. “Okay,” he repeated. “So don't show up with apology flowers. Noted.”
“No, but maybe bring her something else that might help her,” Karen suggested lightly. “Something that might be useful during her pregnancy. To show her you're serious about things with her and the baby.”
“Oh!” Foggy exclaimed, excitedly slapping a hand to the table. “Like an excuse to just show up and see her because you're dropping something off!”
Matt sighed deeply, swiveling back around in his seat. He leant his elbows onto the uneven wooden table as he began to rub his palms together in thought. What could he possibly bring you that might be useful for your pregnancy? Something you might actually be grateful for and need? That wouldn't make you curse him from daring to darken your apartment door?
This was something he'd have to give some thought to tonight. 
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Willing your mind to quiet, you lay on your side beneath the sheets of your bed which you'd tugged up to your chin. It was a little after one in the afternoon and you'd been hoping to take a brief nap after lunch, something you couldn't do during the weekdays because of work. Your body usually wanted to give up once this time of day hit, probably partly because of pregnancy fatigue but also because you hadn't been sleeping well lately. 
It was damn near impossible to get comfortable when you laid down even though your stomach wasn't quite that large yet. But the hormones in your body responsible for relaxing your muscles and ligaments during pregnancy were also responsible for the fact that sleeping on your side killed your hips and knees far more than side sleeping ever had in the past. You didn't just wake up to pee or possibly vomit now, sometimes you just ached horribly and couldn't find a comfortable position to sleep in. Which often led to your mind racing and keeping you awake for part of the night. 
Truth be told though, everything on your body hurt lately. You often had headaches–another perk of early pregnancy–along with constant back and hip pain. Your breasts were still quite sensitive and tender, too. The one bright spot through it all this week had been an appointment you had coming up with your obstetrician. The one where you could get your blood drawn and in another week or so, you'd know whether your little devil would be a boy or a girl. It had been on your mind all week, your excitement barely contained and adding to your inability to sleep. 
Trying to push the thought of the baby's sex from your mind, you squeezed your eyes a bit tighter shut. The light from the sunny afternoon was still slipping in past your blinds, making your room almost too bright. The sounds of the city traffic bustling below your apartment weren't helping right now, either. 
But it was an unexpected knock at your apartment door that had your eyes inevitably flying back open. 
Raising your head from the pillow hesitantly, you blinked hard a few times. You hadn't been expecting anyone to stop by today. Brows knitted together, you pushed the sheets off of yourself and ran a hand over your eyes. Moving slowly along the bed, you gradually pushed yourself upright and set your feet on the floor, noticeably moving slower than if you hadn't been almost eleven weeks pregnant. 
Rising to your feet, you sluggishly made your way out of your bedroom and down the hall. Stopping in front of your door, you undid the locks before turning the handle and pulling it open. The sight of Matt standing before you in one of his fitted tee-shirts with an awkward smile on his face took you by surprise. Your eyes widened as you felt your own pulse increase at the unexpected appearance of him. Gaze dropping down, you saw he was carrying an almost comically large shopping bag in his left hand.
“Matt, what are you doing here?” you asked, one hand gripping the door tighter. “I thought I–I asked you to give me space for now?”
“Yes, you did,” he replied awkwardly, that smile on his face growing more nervous. “But I…I really don't want to stay away because I was still hoping you could give me a chance. To prove how sorry I am.”
Shoulders dropping at his words, you lightly blew out a breath. “Matt–”
“Hear me out, please,” he begged, cutting you off.
An earnest look crossed his face as his dark brows drew together above his glasses. Lips pressing together, you released the door from your grip and crossed your arms over your chest. 
“Fine, talk,” you demanded.
“Look, I–I know you want me to stay away,” he began in a rush, as if he was afraid that you wouldn't give him enough time to explain himself before you slammed the door in his face. “And I want to respect that, I do. But I can't walk away from the both of you. I can't . I won't abandon my child and I won't abandon you. I want to prove how sorry I am to you, sweetheart. I want to prove that you can depend on me, that I want this. Because I do.”
“Matt, I already told you that I'd let you have a relationship with your child,” you reminded him. “I'm not telling you to abandon them.”
He shook his head quickly, his hand readjusting on the plastic bag he was holding. It crinkled loudly in his grip and briefly caught your eye again, making you wonder what the hell was in the bag. But when he spoke again, your attention returned to his face.
“You might not see it that way,” Matt countered, still shaking his head, “but to me it's no different. And I won't walk away from you or my own child.” His face grew more solemn as he added softly, “You know me, sweetheart. You know how I grew up, how it affected me. All I'm asking is that you just…just give me a chance to make amends. I made a massive mistake and I hurt you. I was an asshole and I want to fix things. So just…can you at least consider giving me that chance? Please?”
Inhaling a deep breath, your eyes scanned over his anxious, pleading face. Your heart had dropped in your chest the second he'd mentioned his past. Because of course you knew how Matt had felt abandoned by what his father had done, willingly going and getting himself killed when he won that fight instead of losing it which ultimately left Matt alone in the world. You also knew how he'd formed a bond with Stick, his mentor who'd abandoned him the moment Matt displayed his care for the man. You also knew about his toxic relationship–the only other he'd ever had–where his ex had abandoned him because he wouldn't kill his father's murderer. And then of course, you knew how much pain he'd felt when he learned that his mother had been a nun at the orphanage he grew up in, making him feel unwanted because he'd only accidentally overheard the truth as a grown man years later.
Matt Murdock struggled with feeling unloved and unwanted because of his abandonment issues from almost every important figure in his life. And now he was afraid he'd be condemning this child to a similar trauma. The thought of that caused your heart to twist tight in your chest. 
“I'll think about it,” you answered quietly. 
“Thank you,” Matt replied in relief, his expression visibly relaxing.
Your eyes dropped back down to the large bag in his hand, your head tilting to the side as you curiously studied it. Matt let out a nervous huff of a laugh as he shifted on his feet. He extended the bag out towards you and your brows jumped up onto your forehead. 
“I uh, I brought you something,” Matt said, his tone returning awkward. 
For a moment you just stared at the bag in his outstretched hand, unsure what to make of him bringing you anything right now. Slowly and hesitantly you reached out, grasping onto the handles of the bag. Though you let out a surprised gasp when Matt let go and the weight of its contents startled you, almost causing you to drop it entirely. Your other hand darted out, grabbing onto the bag and catching it before it could slip from your grasp. Drawing it towards yourself, you peered inside. 
“It's a pregnancy pillow and a weighted blanket,” Matt explained, running his now free hand across the back of his neck. “I know you have had trouble sleeping lately and I thought they'd help. The weighted blanket should help relax you and the–the pregnancy pillow should help with body pain and the weight of your belly when you're farther along. I actually spent a while researching them. Who knew there were so many shapes?” He chuckled nervously, his hand still rubbing the back of his neck. “Figured this one would work the best for how you sleep–or, how I remember you always sleeping, at least.”
Your jaw dropped as you stared back at Matt, the heavy bag still held in your hands. While the gift was thoughtful and sweet, there was only one explanation as to why he'd brought these particular items which were meant to help you sleep, especially when you'd had a hard time doing exactly that lately.
“Have you been spying on me again, Matt?” you questioned in disbelief.
He hung his head immediately, his shoulders dropping at the accusation. You already knew the answer before he even said a word and your mouth fell open wider.
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't,” he apologized shamefully. “I know I shouldn't. But I mainly just check in first thing when I go out at night and–and then once more before I go home. To make sure you're safe and alright because I worry. And I–” he broke off, nervously chewing his bottom lip. “I like to listen to the baby's heartbeat,” he confessed quietly.
Something about the way he'd admitted that last bit had disarmed you. That wasn't what you expected him to say and you momentarily felt your heart soften to him. But your upset about him eavesdropping on you soon washed back over you again, your hands curling tight around the bag.
“I don't like that, Matt,” you warned him. “That makes me uncomfortable knowing my ex is listening in to whatever I'm doing in here and I don't know about it.”
Matt nodded solemnly in response. “I understand, I do. I'll try my best to refrain, but if something brings me nearby at night I…admittedly have a hard time not picking up on things.” He shrugged faintly, his covered gaze still downcast. “I'm just tuned into you and it's sort of a habit by now after how much time we've spent together.”
An awkward silence settled over the both of you at his explanation, the pair of you standing there wordlessly. You weren't about to invite Matt inside–especially not after just learning that –but you could also tell he clearly didn't want to go, either. Though after a moment he shifted his weight between his feet before he glanced up in your direction once again. His lips were twisted downwards at the corners, guilt and sadness barely hidden on his face. You fought to ignore the urge to draw him into a hug at the sight.
“I'll let you go, I can tell my visit isn't exactly what you want, but can you think about what I asked?” he questioned. “About giving me a chance to prove myself?”
Blowing out a breath, you slowly nodded. “I'll think about it,” you told him softly, “but I'm not making any promises, Matt.”
He shot you a tense smile, nodding his head once as he took a step back into the apartment building hallway. Something tugged at your heart knowing he was leaving, but you quickly tried to ignore that feeling, too.
“Hope those help,” he murmured, briefly gesturing to the bag.
Without another word, Matt turned and made his way down the hallway and back towards the elevator at the far end, his cane tapping lightly along the floor. You watched his retreating form for a moment before you forced your eyes away. You didn't know quite what to make of his surprise visit. 
Closing the door of your apartment, you locked it again before dragging the heavy bag back to your bedroom. You were still tired and had every intention of attempting that nap despite the unexpected interruption, and admittedly you were curious about the items Matt had brought you. Would they actually help you fall asleep?
It was a few minutes before you'd managed to unpackage the incredibly soft, gray weighted blanket and spread it over your bed. You'd put the pregnancy pillow up on the bed underneath the blanket afterwards before you'd climbed up onto the mattress and slipped beneath the blanket. Immediately you wrapped your legs around the pillow and snuggled up to it, feeling the pain in your hips instantly lessen in this position. You sighed in relief, letting your eyelids gently drop as you felt the weight of the blanket relaxing you, just as Matt had claimed it would. 
With a soft, contented hum, you nuzzled into your pillow and felt that wave of exhaustion begin to overtake you. But as you lay there waiting for sleep, you couldn't help but imagine it was the weight of Matt's arms wrapped around you, comfortably sinking you further into the mattress. And if you kept your eyes closed and tried hard enough, you could imagine it was Matt's thick thigh that your legs were wrapped around, wedged between yours just like you'd slept many nights in the past with him. 
Which was how you finally found yourself drifting comfortably to sleep–imagining you were safe in Matt’s arms, the place you so desperately missed being. 
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Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably @two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee @kmc1989 @thychuvaluswife @mywellspringoflife @thornbushrose @yarrystyleeza @shiorimakibawrites @marvelcinematiquniverse @vallovesthedilfs @scoliobean @this-is-music @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @swissy23 @babygorewhore @that-girl-named-alex @warsaur @lareinaisabelle @pazii @senjoritanana @mischiefmanaged71 @xxdrixx @jess-rye @hannahbohen @theclassicvinyldragon @karolamurdock @theoraekenslover @mr-underhills-things
[Some tags aren't working, I never fully know why. If I've misspelled yours, please feel free to let me know! Otherwise it's just tumblr being a pain and not tagging for unknown reasons because this always happens. I'm sorry!]
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pink-bandana-writes · 11 months
Text
The Secret Girlfriend
Raphael x Reader
Summary: When the boys save a human girl from some muggers, they expect her to scream, not rush into their brother’s arms.
Note: Watching OotS rn and this popped into my head. Enjoy <3
Warnings: Canon-typical violence
Word Count: 0.4k
Reader is: Female
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It was a seemingly ordinary night in New York City. Well, as normal as it could be for the guys when they were out on patrol. They swept the streets, looking for signs of trouble until, as usual, they found it. A scream erupted from one of the alleys and they sprung into action, jumping down from their spot on the rooftops.
A mugger. No, three of them and one helpless college girl, fighting them off as best as she could, which was to say, not very well.
“Hey! Why don’t’cha pick on someone yer own size?” Raph all but growled, causing the nearest of the muggers to back off, intimidated by his height and the depth of his voice alone. Leo, Donnie, and Mikey helped him scare off the other two easily, and when they were done, all that was left was you, the helpless, human girl.
Leo braced for impact. Any second, you’d catch sight of the monsters in the alley and scream. But instead of a scream, like the brothers were expecting, instead, recognition flashed across your features.
“Raph!” You sighed in relief, rushing into the arms of the towering turtle. You held onto him tight. “Oh my god.”
“(Y/N).” He cradled you against himself, a large hand stroking through your hair as he held you. “Ya alright? I didn’t realize it was you.”
“I’m okay.” You assured him, pulling away to look at his face. “Are you okay?”
He grinned, confident. “I’m bulletproof, babe. Of course I’m alright.”
“My very own Superman.” You murmured, hugging him again, face resting in the crook of his neck as your heartrate slowly returned to normal.
“Um…Raph?” Leo asked, clearing his throat. “Care to explain?”
“Oh right…” Raph chuckled, looking up at his brothers. “Guys, this is (Y/N). My girlfriend. (Y/N), these are my brothers.”
“Nice to meet you, finally.” You smiled, shy. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Raph, you…have a secret girlfriend?” Mikey asked. “No way!”
“Yeah, uh…I was gonna tell ya soon, I just…” He shrugged. “Needed the quiet for a bit.”
“Does Sensei know?” Leo asked, crossing his arms.
“Nah, but April does.” Raph shrugged.
“She’s really nice.” You added. “We get coffee sometimes.”
“You do?” Raph asked, looking down at you.
You nodded. “Mmhmm. We’re getting our nails done next week.”
Leo glanced around. “Hey we better get going.” He looked at you, still skeptical, but polite nonetheless. “You’re welcome to come with.”
“Can I?” You asked, looking up at Raph, stars sparkling in your eyes. “I’m…that was really scary. I’m kinda shaken up.”
“Yeah, of course, baby.” He nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
Leo’s eyes widened. Never in his life had he seen his big brute of a brother so gentle. So you had him whipped, whipped.
“We can order pizza! We’ve got a bunch of movies and video games.” Mikey smiled, his face welcoming. “It’ll be alright, girl.”
“Thank you.” You laughed, nodding. “I’d really like that.”
Tagged: @thelaundrybitch, @turtle-babe83, @dilucsflame33, @happymoonangel, @leleouwu
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urfriendlywriter · 2 years
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otp prompts:
(feel free to use <3 sfw/nsfw! plsplspls tag me when yall write 2nd, 4th, 5th, 7th and the 8th I SWEARR;>|;¦ ^€~[)
after the first kiss, one of them is completely freaking out, "i swear i didn't mean to- i just, didn't- you were there and then suddenly- i am so-" and the other pulls them by their neck into the most passionate, knee weakening kiss
"kiss me" "I'm afraid i won't be able to stop if i do so, darling." "then don't."
you stop, brows furrowed, "how do you do that?" they look back, casually, "do what, love?" your heart strums against your chest as you weave your hand through theirs, "you always know the right things to say. how?"
"choose a flavor, chocolate or vanilla?" they smile, it stretches a little too far as they lean in and mumble, "maybe you."
"were you just--moaning my name, honey?"
when you come home late from work and they stumble to the door, their frown turning into a fond smile as they swoop you up in their arms. your tiredness melt away as they kiss your cheeks, "how was your day, baby?"
resting on your partner's lap while they try to finish their work and come to bed with you and they ask, "bored, love?" you smile, feeling their hand pat your head, "nah, i quite like watching you"
"i love you." the sun drains of color into the darkness as they trace your cheek, lying beside each other on the rooftop. you laugh, "imma throw you off the rooftop, babe" and there it was, that was your love language.
back hugging them and placing kisses on their shoulder. "i think I'm about to combust" they say, laughing.
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sapphicvqmpires · 9 months
Text
❁ཻུ۪۪♡ seven wonders
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Pairing - shuri x black!fem reader
Word Count - 7.3k
Contains - smut (18+), soft!dom shuri, sub!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, tribbing, edging, choking/breathplay, overstimulation, clit play, shuri is a tease, praise kink, fluff
Divider From - @firefly-graphics
Sneak Peak - “What life took away from me, Bast replaced with you. You, my angel, are my gift.” She places a kiss on your cheek, the salt of your tears lingering on her lips and she allows it because she wants to stay here forever, wants to sulk in everything she’s feeling as a reminder that this is not a dream. She begins crying with you, overwhelmed with the gift that was you, overwhelmed that she had explored the world’s most intricate of beauties and yet you were still the most beautiful to her.
Tags - @inmyheadimobsessed @amplifiedmoan @vampzxi @abenomeiiii @imjusthere2readbruv @desswright29 @heejayy @shurislover @shurismainbxtch @garden-of-venus @tiii-iiiiii @verachii @ihearttish @playhousedistee @somethingcleaverandwhitty @niyahwrites @tishsrealwife @oceean @sookiesookie @myaraines @cafehyunji @6-noir @ventingfanfics @ririslove @marsolgy @shaiwritesss @naomis-daydream @prettymrswright @pocketsizedpanther (comment if you wanna be tagged in future fics, 18+ please)
Song Inspiration - another heartbreak: giveon, pov: ariana grande (readers pov), favorite song: toosii, reflections: dustystaytrue ft. toosii (shuri’s pov)
Writers Note: this fic is me self projecting in both of these characters. I just wanna love and be loved. This fic lowkey kicked my ass, why is writing fluff lowkey hard?? But shuri loves her baby girl so much in this one like whew, I need herrr. Anyways, as always, I hope you all enjoy my lovessss :)
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♪ ༘⋆ Tears don’t fall when you’re right here, Perfect for me that’s my fear ♪ ༘⋆ (another heartbreak - giveon)
❁ཻུ۪۪♡ The evening is nothing short of perfect, sitting on a rooftop in Rio de Janeiro while the sun sets in the distance, a perfect image of the panoramic painting you sat in. Vibrant hues surrounded you as you sat in front of a small circular table that came alive with the flickering glow of candle light, a vibrant bouquet of exotic flowers and the fresh aroma of Brazilian cuisine. There were the sweet sounds of Bossa Nova playing in the distance, mixing in with the gentle rhythm of waves that settled in the not too far shore. To complete the picturesque view is what you were in this city for in the first place: the Christ the Redeemer Statue.
It was at this very moment that you found yourself at the final stop of your trip around the world. It was a trip orchestrated by your beloved girlfriend, Shuri, who cherished you deeply and wanted to show you what beauty the world had to offer. You had visited the Seven Wonders, each destination bringing you that much closer to the true joy you deserved. Shuri understood that before her arrival, you did not get out much. Not because you had no desire, not because you didn’t have the funds to, but because you simply had no one to share the world with. Life has presented you with hardships, constructing barriers that made you wary of the genuine splendor life had to offer. It obscured your understanding of what love truly entailed, as your past relationships, be they platonic or romantic, introduced individuals who made you question your self-worth. However, once again, you found yourself on a rooftop, accompanied by your girlfriend who quite literally gave you the world, even within the few fleeting months you two had spent together. Her love for you surpassed any other person you had encountered, and it was precisely all of this that frightened you.
“What’s on your mind, sthandwa sam?” Her voice held a gentle quality, infused with a subtle rasp that made you dizzy. It was flawless. Almost unnaturally flawless.
“Kwenzeka ntoni kula ntloko yakho intle?” (“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”)
Being with Shuri was the most transparent you had ever been. She consistently motivated you to express yourself fully, urging you to share your emotions openly and honestly. She possessed a deep understanding of your thoughts and the fears that were buried in your heart, which often hindered your ability to fully embrace the love she shared with you. Nonetheless, Shuri loved and respected you unconditionally. She yearned to hear your emotional release, offering her unwavering support to catch and discard them, surpassing any previous support you had ever received. She aspired to be there for you, her princess, in ways that no one else had ever been. And this is why it wasn’t terribly challenging to open up to her.
“Shuri, you know what I’m thinking.”
“I know, nkosazana, but I wanna hear you say it. Thetha nam ndimamele.” (“Speak to me and I’ll listen.”)
“Shuri-”
“Please, y/n. Please.”
You observe her, appreciating the exquisite features that decorated her face. She was so beautiful, so full of love in a body that has also been through pain and suffering. Shuri intimately understands the harsh realities of life, having experienced her own share of adversity. That's precisely why she gently encourages you to release the emotions you've kept bottled up. Her intention is never to cause discomfort or obligate you to share your past traumas. Rather, she seeks to help you acknowledge and process the feelings your mind and body are urging you to confront, enabling you to progress forward.
You bask in her warm glance for a few moments longer before you softly exhale, preparing your heart for what’s to come.
“It’s just a lot, Shuri. Not in a bad way. It’s never in a bad way when it comes to you. You’re so perfect, your love is overflowing and shit. It’s just…I’m just…”
“Yitsho.” (Say it.)
You sigh.
“Shuri, I-I just…”
Shuri notices your struggle, the way your voice breaks off and she immediately runs to your side, placing a kiss on your forehead before she lowers herself on one knee in front of you. She takes your hands, running her soft lips against your knuckles and you could cry. You loved her so much and it scared the shit out of you that you knew she deeply loved you too.
“I’m scared, Shuri.”
“Mhmm. Keep going, my love, I’m right here. Let it out.”
“I’m scared that…” Your voice gradually faded with your words becoming entangled in your throat, making it harder to breathe. You took a brief pause, collecting your thoughts so that they could flow effortlessly from your lips. “I’m scared that one day you’re gonna look at me and not love what you see anymore.”
You stopped there, curious as to what kind of response she would give you. But of course, she only encouraged you to proceed.
“You’re doing so good, y/n. Keep going…I know there’s more in that big heart of yours.”
You let out another sigh, not born out of annoyance or frustration, but rather a sigh of relief.
“I’m just worried that one day you’re gonna get tired of me, that I’m going to be…I don’t know…I guess just too much. To be fair, I am kinda a lot to be around…I-I understand that I’m not the easiest person to love, and that I can be a handful…”
You were on the verge of tears, but you didn’t allow them to escape you just yet. “I’m just scared you’re gonna get tired of me and I’m just not sure I can handle that, Shuri.”
“Mmm,” Shuri hummed, not once taking her gaze off yours as she continued to kneel in front of you. She brought your hands in for a kiss, loving lips attaching themselves to your soft, brown skin. She lifts herself up to reach your forehead, placing one last kiss before she speaks.
“You know why I chose you, y/n?”
You shake your head, unable to speak in fear that your emotions might overwhelm you and you did not want to ruin this perfect evening with Shuri more than you already felt you had. Shuri lets out a soft chuckle, her pearly teeth revealed through a crooked grin that placed butterflies in the depths of your stomach.
“It’s actually quite simple, nkosazana. I chose you because I love you. I love everything about you. I love your dimples when you smile, and those beautiful eyes, sthandwa. I love your body, everything about it is perfect. Your stomach, your thighs…what’s in between your thighs-“
“Shuri, you’re just talking about my body--”
“Ssshhh, I’m not done. I love your sense of humor, how you’re always laughing and it makes me laugh. Puts a smile to my face when I have no smile to offer. I love your strength and your capability to love even though the world has not been so kind to you. I love your creativity and how artistic you are, it balances me out because you know I love my science. It's nice to have an artist to level the plane. I love your beautiful dark skin and all its simplicities and complexities. I love how you encourage me to be my best, and you push me to be better, for you but most importantly for myself…”
“Shuri…”
“Wait, sthandwa, I have more to say. When…when I lost my brother, I felt as if the world came crashing down on me…he was my favorite person to be around and when he was gone…there was just…nothing…”
Her voice started to falter, unveiling the enduring pain that Shuri carries within herself each day, concealed by the smile she presents to you. A solitary teardrop escaped from her eye, though she hastily wiped it away. She wasn't prepared to break just yet, and neither were you.
“Shuri, you don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”
“I want to…and I need to. And you need to hear it.”
You offer a tender smile, conveying to Shuri that everything would be alright. Shuri breathes in, lightly grazing her lips against your hands before proceeding.
“And then…when my mother died…I just…”
“Shuri-”
“I had no will to live anymore because what was the point? I had no one. Nothing. Until…until you.”
You choked down a sob, one that would undoubtedly have torn through your entire being had you let it fully consume you.
“You reminded me of what it is to be happy, to laugh, like genuinely laugh…haven’t done that since my brother, I almost forgot what it felt like. You showed me that there’s so much more to live for, so much the world has to offer and I wouldn’t have it any other way, nkosazana.”
You offer a subtle nod, tears streaming down your face with an unrestrained flow, and this time you permit it. She was utterly flawless, an exquisite fusion of affection and happiness, seamlessly mending the shattered fragments of your own existence. Her embrace provided solace, her gaze offered a sense of security, and there was no place in the world you'd prefer to be at this very moment, and no one else you'd rather be with.
“Umhle kakhulu, y/n,” ("I love you, y/n”) she says with one last kiss before she stands, gesturing to you to stand as well. She pulls you into her embrace, a hug that engulfs every fiber of your being, immersing you in the warmth emanating from her body and permeating back into yours. She placed a firm kiss onto your forehead before you pressed your face into her chest, allowing gentle tears to cascade down your cheeks and onto the fabric of her shirt. Yet, she doesn't mind. She wanted to catch every single droplet that escaped you and tuck them away so you were no longer burdened by fears that weren’t truly there. She hated that you felt scared, apprehensive about the future and the uncertainties it holds, because she will never abandon you. She needs you just as much as you need her. Perhaps even more so.
She cupped your face in the palm of your hands, looking down at puffy eyes and puffy lips as you sniffled.
“You’re literally so beautiful, y/n,” she promises, pressing a kiss into your nose. “Just pour it out, let yourself feel the things you feel, my love. You have to let it out, y/n. Do you understand me?”
You nod, your lips forming a pout before more tears fell from her words.
“I’m not saying you have to explain things when you don’t feel like it. But what I am saying is I am your partner, your girlfriend and I’m here for you. I love you. And I want you to know that I love you, more than anything or anyone else in the world, and that I need you just as bad.”
If you hadn't been a tearful wreck before, you most certainly were now. Cheeks marked with traces of tears remained within Shuri's grasp as you drew her closer for another kiss.
“That’s it, y/n. Just let it out…I’m right here. Ndizohlala ndilapha.” (I’ll always be right here.”)
“I love you so so much, Shuri,” you promise, your voice broken from the lump in your throat.
“You know what the best part of this trip was, sthandwa sam?”
“Hmmm, what could that be, baby?”
A beautiful smile adorned her face as she lifted you up and twirled you around, dancing on a rooftop while your laughter echoed with genuine delight. She sat down on the chair, bringing you into her lap as you straddled her, holding her like it was your last time.
“We may have just traveled the world and its most exquisite landmarks, but you…you were my favorite part. No building or ancient structure is as beautiful and strong as my girl.”
The smile that graced your face was a sight of pure bliss in Shuri's eyes, as she cherished nothing more than the radiance of your beautiful smile. She buries her face in the nape of your neck, gently pressing her lips against your firm yet sensitive skin.
“Every morning I woke up next to you…every dinner I shared with you…every night I had my way with you…”
With each declaration, her kisses grew more fervent, targeting the places she knew weakened you. You wrapped your arms around her neck, fully embracing how much she rendered you powerless through every movement she made and every word she spoke. She was addicting, all consuming, fogging each and everyone of your senses but your pounding heart was a reminder as to where exactly you were.
“Shuri…we-we’re on a public rooftop,” you stuttered, trembling beneath her passionate kisses as you struggled to contain the pulse that found its way between your thighs.
“No one is coming. I made sure of that,” she replies, her face still sunken into your neck as she begins lifting your dress up to bunch around your waist. The light pulsing between your thighs transitioned to heavy throbbing, as melanated bodies grew more eager to feel one another.
“Let me know if you’re ok, y/n,” Shuri says, wanting to make sure that your head and heart is in the right place to proceed with her intimacy. You were more than ok, because even though your heart was often troubled and your mind was in constant battle, your body was always willing to receive whatever obstacle Shuri would give you.
“I’m ok, Shuri,” you reply desperately, slowly grinding your crotch in her lap. Shuri notices this, wasting no time in cupping your saturated cunt, casually stroking you over the thin lace of your panties. It was torturous, how close yet so far she was from where you needed her.
“Shuri,” you whined, a wounded sound that made Shuri smile.
“That’s it, sthandwa. Yilangazelele.” (That’s it, baby. Be desperate for it.”)
“Mmmm,” you moaned as she carefully pulled the fabric to the side, gliding her fingers through your folds, grazing your pulsing clit and it made you frantic. “Sh-Shuri.”
Her strokes came to a halt as she pressed into your clit, a shocking sensation radiating through your thumping nerves.
“Show me how you do it,” she whispered into you.
“Hmm?” you moaned in question.
“Show me how you do it, my pretty girl. Rock on me. Be desperate for it.”
She gently caressed your clit for a few more beats before ceasing, signaling your cue. Gradually, you widen the space between your thighs, allowing her more room to tenderly touch your delicate clit with the pads of her fingers, exerting a firm pressure as you slowly but surely start to grind in response. She wanted to watch you work for it, observe your struggle as you ascended towards your own pleasure.
“Shuri, baby. Ah.”
The feeling was deeply fulfilling, your clit fluttering with each swipe as your soft moans pleased Shuri’s senses. A grin appeared on Shuri's lips as she observed how your pleasure radiated through your facial expressions. Your eyelids grow heavy, your eyebrows relaxed as your mouth falls open. The knot in your stomach tightened as your grinds became harder, your pussy getting louder as you soaked her fingers.
“Look at you go.”
“Unh.”
“Yeah that’s right,y/n. Mntana oyimtombazana.” (“Work for it.”)
“Shuri, unh..shit.”
Shuri gently grabs your throat, not enough to hinder your breathing but enough to get your attention. She entices you closer, pulling you in as she presses her lips to your ear, her words eliciting a shiver that surges through your body, infusing your pounding clit with waves of pleasure, as if it wasn’t already too much on your body.
“Such a needy little pussy, huh?”
“Mhmm. Yeah.”
“So slippery, nkosazana. All this just for me, yeah?”
“Yes, baby yes.”
It was absolutely sensational, her fingers coming in contact with your body as you rubbed against her created a knot in your stomach as the heat coursed through your legs and Shuri’s gaze remained on you, shifting from your pleasured face to your tired cunt.
“Your pussy is so pretty, look at how swollen you are…Bast.”
“Sh-Shuri,” you tremble, a warning that you were close. “I..I..I’m close. Mmm…uhn.”
“Hold it, sthandwa. I know you can.”
“B-but I can’t. I need to.”
“You can do it. Cuz you got no choice, my pretty girl. The most beautiful girl.”
Her carefully selected words seamlessly intertwined with your every gesture, engulfing you in a sensation that overwhelmed your mind and your pussy. The intensity compelled you to surrender, to embrace the fiery passion swirling within your core, while your pussy delicately throbbed.
“Shuri, stop talking like that…you’re gonna make me…f-fuck. Shit.”
“What is it, y/n? Can’t handle being my pretty princess?” She gained pleasure from teasing you, relishing in the sight of your blissful torment while you writhed on top of her, fighting hard to obey her and not cum until she let you. “Would you rather be my pretty slut?”
“Baby…please,” you begged.
“Mmmm,” she hummed low. “You can be both.”
“Shit,” you whined, unintentionally slowing your movements down to give your swollen clit a moment to wind down.
“Khange ndithi ungacotha. Qhubeka uhamba. Ndibonise ukuba ufuna embi kangakanani.” (I didn’t say you can slow down. Keep going. Show me how bad you want it.”)
“Shuri..I-I…”
As you were at the threshold, a few more swipes away from releasing onto her, she removed her fingers from you, a long sticky line connecting with her fingers until she drew them into her mouth, cleaning them dry as she kept her eyes on you.
“Wh-why did you do that?,” you struggled to say as your impending orgasm remained trapped between your legs, so close to being released from your body before she denied you. Shuri chuckles before kissing your cheek, still tear-stained from earlier.
“Ssshh, my love. You’ll get it soon. Don’t worry.”
Gently raising you from her lap, she clasped your hand as the two of you headed back to your hotel room. Your tense pussy nerves made walking a challenge, causing you to falter occasionally, but Shuri guided you every step of the way.
♪ ༘⋆ You love my lips ‘cause they say the things we’ve always been afraid of, I can feel it starting to subside, learning to believe in what is mine ♪ ༘⋆ (pov - ariana grande)
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
"Oh my god, Shuri!" you exclaim, caught off guard, as Shuri effortlessly lifts you off the ground and twirls you around, cradling your body in her embrace as you walk down the hotel corridor. With a playful gesture, she plants several kisses on your cheek, eliciting another burst of laughter from you. “Shuri, put me down!,” you manage to utter amidst your genuine laughter, even though your plea for her to let you go was anything but.
“Absolutely not, nkoszana,” she teases, spinning you once more before you make it to your hotel door. It was then Shuri placed you down, trapping you between the door and her body as her mouth traveled back to that sweet spot on your neck. Your hand made its way to the back of her head, gently grasping her soft curls as her passionate kisses milk a moan off your lips. Her hands creep down your body, caressing your curves before her fingers slowly find their way between your legs again, causing your knees to give out for a split second as you were still sore from your unreleased orgasm.
“Wait-Shuri…shit.”
The instant her fingers stroke you over the drenched material, a familiar sensation stirs within you, beckoning your orgasm to well up once more, eager to escape from your body.
“Shuri…please.”
“Hmmm?”
“Shuri…I…inside please, let’s go inside?”
She lifted her face from your neck, her hungry eyes meeting your pained ones as she continued her assault on your pussy. She dips her ring and middle finger beneath the fabric, coming in pure contact with your swollen clit once again, sending an electric pulse swimming through your aching cunt.
“Shuri-ah!,” you moaned loudly, most likely audible to anyone that may have been occupying any other of the hotel rooms. Shuri lifted a finger to your lip, a gesture that told you to keep quiet.
“I-I’m sorry,” you whispered, struggling to keep your heavy moans at bay.
“It’s ok, sthandwa, you’re ok. Let’s go inside now, yeah?”
You nodded, the only response you could give because if you dare to speak, coherent words would not fall out. Shuri only smirked at you, opening the door before lifting you up once again, shutting the door behind her aggressively while the two of you passionately kissed until your back gently pressed onto the bed.
Shuri was delicate in removing your dress from your body, gliding the zipper downwards and gracefully allowing the slender straps to slip off your shoulders. Your panties, she was not so gentle with, hooking her fingers underneath the lace that hugged your hips and tearing them, causing a whine to escape your lips.
“Shuri!”
“I’ll get you another pair, my love, do not worry.”
You yearned one another intensely, craving Shuri's touch with a deep hunger, and she desired you just as deep. For a moment, she got off the bed, allowing herself to become entranced with the way your slick glistened your inner thighs, doing all this as she unbuttoned her dress shirt and rolled up her sleeves, her small gold chain crystalline against her ebony skin. She was so beautiful and the sight of her only heightened your arousal, your core pulsing beneath her gaze.
Shuri got on the bed, resting herself on the headboard before motioning you to sit on her lap and you oblige, spreading your legs over hers as your pussy lingered above her crotch. She wasted no time sinking her eager fingers through your folds, her digits getting lost in your thick, swollen pussy as you feel the coolness of her rings up against you. She occasionally brushes over your clit and you flinch every time, still sensitive from her lingering touch.
“Shuri, stop playing baby,” you whine, completely unashamed of how needy your plea sounds.
“Where do you want me?”
“Inside…pl-please?”
“Mhmm….” Shuri pressed into your clit once more, pushing loving circles into you before she made her way down to your clenching hole. You were drenched, desperate for her touch but Shuri desired to savor this moment as if it were a rare occurrence, aiming to reaffirm that you were more than what others perceived you to be because in her eyes, you meant everything and even more.
She traced her fingers over your entrance, feeling the way your pussy chased after her in desperation. The relentless teasing she subjected you to was unbearable, driving you to the edge of exhaustion as your impatience mounted, begging her to put an end to it.
“Shuri, pleeease.”
With a sly expression, Shuri's crooked grin compliments her fingers as they firmly dig into you, using her free hand to guide your body onto her as if you were sitting onto her strap. She continuously pushes into you until her knuckles kiss your pussy lips, Shuri’s fingers are well acquainted with your body, swiftly linking the pads with that special spot inside you that makes your pussy walls convulse violently, prompting you to bury your head into her as you moan into her shoulder.
“Oh yes, Shuri, unh.”
“I want you to bounce, nkosazana. Ride me like you ride my dick.”
With her words infused with the depth in her tone, it provided all the motivation you required. A shiver rushed down your spine, intertwining with the shiver that surged through your pussy walls, instantly targeting your g-spot as you milked Shuri’s fingers.
Raising your head from her shoulder, you met her gaze fixed not on your eyes but on your body, observing every reaction you had to her touch. The way your breasts bounced frantically in tempo with her thrusts, and the way your pussy lips swelled from the stimulation made it evident just how much you desired her and how eager you were to surrender to the woman below you. Shuri brought her lips to your face, her eyebrows scrunched together as she planted fervent kisses on your temple before softly whispering words of reassurance into your ear, causing your walls to clench around her with urgency.
“Injalo, ntombi yam entle. Yileqe.” (“That’s right, my pretty girl. Chase it.”)
“Shuri, please.”
“Ukhangeleka umhle ngolu hlobo. Intle kakhulu xa uyinqwenela.” (“You look so pretty like this. So pretty when you’re desperate for it.”)
It’s moments like these where you’re thankful that you learned to speak Xhosa fluently, your mind becoming foggy with the native words that spill off of Shuri's tongue as her thrusts and your bounces simultaneously find each other in your g-spot. It was nothing short of pure bliss as your orgasm crept through you, the heat in your stomach igniting as your wet pussy echoed through the hotel room.
“Sh-Shuri…I’m gonna cum, Shuri.”
“Then do it.”
“Ah!”
For a few moments longer, Shuri showers you with praise, extolling your body and emphasizing how flawlessly your pussy compliments her, designed to take her and listen to her and this was all made clear with how her voice radiated through her next words, instantly pushing you to your orgasm.
“Cum, baby. Let this aching pussy have what she’s been begging for all night.”
And with her words, the pressure built to your breaking point as you released right onto her, oozing onto her hand and trailing down to her crotch. Your orgasm crashed through you wave after wave as Shuri continued to praise you through it, making promises of forever and how much she loves her pretty girl.
“Shuri, yeah,” you trembled, moans shattered and delicate, struggling to articulate thoughts while your mind and pussy absorbed everything.
"Ngokwenyani ungoyena mntu umhle ndakha ndambona. Ndifuna nje ukwenza ukuba ube cum ngokuphindaphindiweyo." ("You're literally the most beautiful person I've ever seen. I just wanna make you cum over and over again.")
“I..fuck.”
“Will you let me do that, y/n? Make you cum all the time? Whenever I please?”
You nod frantically, the pulse in your walls growing as Shuri continues to fuck you through it, switching between rubbing your clit and thrusting into you as you struggle to come down from your blissful state.
“Fuck, I love you,” she mumbles, repositioning you so your on your back, almost unaware of where you were but you snapped back to reality as you feel Shuri spread your legs open and place her mouth inbetween them, grazing her lips over your still sensitive clit and your whole body spasmed at her touch, absolutely fragile from your lingering orgasm.
“W-wait Shuri…I can’t…please,” you whimper, placing your hand over your aching pussy.
“Yihambise.” (“Move it.”)
“Baby…I-I…”
“Y/n…I said move it.”
You shake your head from side to side in protest, your face contorting in a mix of desperation and fatigue as your delicate pussy continues its rhythmic throb. Shuri removes herself from between your thighs, leaning forward to meet your gaze as she gently pinches your chin to redirect your attention to her. Cradling the back of your head, she holds you close, her light chain dangling inches from your face.
“There isn’t a woman in the world as strong as my baby girl. You can take anything. I promise. Do you understand me?”
You vigorously nod and she chuckles at the sight of your vulnerability, noticing how your responses have been reduced to mere head gestures, as you grapple to form coherent sentences.
“I know what your pussy needs, and from the way you’re still leaking onto these sheets like a slut, I know she wants more. Am I right?”
Another nod.
“Uze ube yintombazana elungileyo kum, nkosazana, wenze le nto ndiyithethayo. Hambisa isandla sakho.” (“Then be a good girl for me, princess, and do what I say. Move your hand.”)
You hesitated at first before you obeyed her words. You removed your hand from the heat between your thighs, revealing your pussy that continued to drip for her. Your pussy lips were puffy, your clit enlarged as you opened your legs wider for Shuris devour and she practically salivated at the sight of you before she dove into her meal with one flat lick through your folds. Instantly, your hand gravitates to your pussy again but Shuri lightly pushes it out the way, allowing nothing to get between her and what belongs to her.
“Ungakhe ucinge ngayo.” (“Don’t even think about it.”)
Finally, she takes your clit into the swells of her lips, pulling you into her mouth as she sucked and slurped both in and around you. Your legs rest on her shoulders, her hands hooked around your thighs, your toes perfectly pointed. It was overwhelming, her mouth on you as she moaned into your pussy and connected her gaze with yours. You brought your hand to gently fist her curls, using them as a handle to grind down on her tongue.
“Shuri, oh my god, baby yes,”
“Take it easy, sthandwa. I don’t want you cumming just yet.”
“Oh…okay…fuck.”
The squelch of your pussy resonated loudly, wet lips meeting wet lips as you sensed your impending climax. Your stomach started to twist into knots, the soles of your feet and palms of your hands tingle while your pussy hole tightened. You weren’t certain with how much longer you could keep it in as Shuri’s tongue work seemed to intensify, causing your cunt to clench repeatedly.
“Baby…I’m gonna-you’re gonna make me-”
Once again, Shuri moaned into your pussy, a sound that added to your already soaked cunt before reluctantly letting go. The physical and mental turmoil of nearing the threshold, only to be abruptly pulled away was agonizing. But Shuri had a different plan for the both of you. She wanted to experience your body entirely, to witness your release directly onto her as your body completely unraveled and understood that you belonged to her and it will remain so as long as you allow it.
She locks eyes with you while standing by the bed. With elegance and sexual frustration, she begins to unbutton the rest of her dress shirt, meticulously lifting the fabric from her body. Her perky breasts rest beautifully on her chest, her dark skin seemingly eager to intertwine with yours. As she begins to undo her belt buckle, you shift your position to sit at the edge of the bed in front of her, wanting to take over and complete the task yourself.
“Here baby, lemme take these off of you,” you plead. She nods in agreement, making room for you to complete the job. You earnestly unbuckle her belt, undoing each button one by one as you press your lips against the valley in her breasts. When her pants were undone, you slipped your hand beneath her boxers, your palm coming in direct contact with her dripping pussy and she took a sharp inhale as you glided through her folds.
“So wet just from tasting me,” you whispered with a smirk.
“Ndimanzi kuba ndikuthanda,” she replied. (“I’m wet because I love you.) She completely removes her pants and boxers from her body, standing before you fully bare in her petite yet toned body. “Lala phantsi ngenxa yam.” (“Lie back down for me.”)
In no time, Shuri grips your calf, guiding you into a perfect position where her pussy can meet yours. The moment she touches you, the instant her aching bud kisses yours, a surge of immediate pleasure overwhelms you, your jaw falling open as you sing soft melodies of praise meant for her ears only.
“Fuck baby.”
She embraces you, swaying back and forth until it feels like the entire universe is within your grasp. Your melanated skins meld as one, two feminine bodies intertwining to form the most exquisite shades of brown.
“Sh-Shuri, un-UNH.” Your moans escalated, becoming filthier by the second and you couldn't help but feel a tinge of embarrassment with how easily aroused you became and so you bit your bottom lip to try and contain the shameful moans that sat in the pit of your throat. Shuri's face was concentrated, eyebrows furrowing as she was captivated by the sight of your puffy pussy on hers; concentrated on sloshing cores and the friction created below. But she was determined to hear you, reveling in your inability to keep quiet as she pleased you with her body. She allowed muffled moans and gentle whimpers to linger on for too long, fully aware that you wanted to completely unleash yourself. And she would make you.
“No, don’t do that.”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t hold back.”
No matter how many times she saw you naked, how many times she’s fucked you into oblivion, you always became embarrassed with how effortlessly compliant your body was, how loud your mouth and your pussy desperately became.
“What’d I say about holding it in?”
You shake your head in defiance, struggling to muffle the pitiful moan welling up within you. It's almost as if you're testing her, curious to see how she'll respond and whether she'll get her way. Shuri doesn’t hesitate to snake her palm around your throat, almost in a loving manner as she grins. She presses lightly, again, not enough to hinder your breathing pattern but enough to get your attention on her.
“Answer me, princess. What’d I say about holding it in?”
“Y-you…fuck. You said n-not to,” you struggled to say amidst Shuri’s heavy grinding.
“Injalo, ntombi yam entle,” she responds (“That’s right, my pretty girl). Still, you resist her, intrigued to witness the depths of determination in your normally tender and affectionate Shuri, to see how far she'll go in pursuing her own desires. You feel the compression on your windpipe escalate much harder than it was, oxygen struggling to move down your throat and it makes you soak as you moan in unison with your guttural gasps. You clasp her wrist for support, a soft smile appearing on your face as you get lost in your dwindling breathing pattern.
“I…Shuri…AH!”
“That’s it, y/n. Pour it out, just like I said. Let yourself feel the things you feel. Let me give your pretty pussy what she deserves…shit.”
“UNH.”
“Nantso ke sthandwa sam, mandikuva.” (“That’s it my love, let me hear you.”)
Your pussy entrance clenched frantically, your used clit beating like rapid thunder as your orgasm awaited you. And it was no different for Shuri. It was written all over her face. The more she spoke, the more broken and disheveled her sentences became, her jaw twitching and abs contracting as she chased her own high, absolutely desperate to feel your pussy cum all over her palpitating clit.
“Sh…Shuri! Ooooo fuck baby…I-I’m gonna…”
“Do it. Flood m-me…unh.”
Both of your moans were messy, filling the air with cries of each others names as Shuri continued to fuck you with her drenched pussy. It was exhilarating, a rush of warmth that surged through your body, starting as a tight ball of heat in your sex and radiating outward. The thump between your dewy folds pulsed at a faltering rhythm, one beat upon another, as you felt Shuri's clit continuously twitching and teasing against you.
“Fuck, y/n. You make my pussy feel so g-good,” Shuri moaned, struggling to descend from her own state of bliss. And she was a sight to see. Her dark skin glistened with perspiration, the chain adhering to her body due to the sweat. Her curls were ruffled, their natural pattern still discernible but marred by the droplets of sweat that trickled down her forehead. And you could always tell how hard her orgasm was rushing through her body with the way her abs tightened and her jaw clenched, her pussy puffed out as her clit jolted with pleasure. Your girlfriend was ridiculously sexy and the way her body reacted to yours was a testament in itself with how much she loved you.
Before you were able to come back to earth, you felt one last lick up your folds and you shuddered violently forcing Shuri to grip your thighs tightly in order to keep you still. You were still so achy, pulsations still finding a way to decrease as Shuri pressed her mouth onto you, kissing your pussy lips like they’re the lips on your face.
“Ugqibelele kakhulu,” she hums into your cunt before licking your juices up (“You’re so perfect,”). “Intwana yakho igqibelele.” (“Your pussy is so perfect.”)
Another lick through your folds that makes you jolt and you consider trying to squirm out of her grasp but the sight of Shuri worshiping words of praise into your pussy in her native tongue is enough to let you keep her there.
"Ndifuna ukudlala kwi intwana yakho ngalo lonke ixesha.” (“I want to play in your pussy all the time.”)
“Ufuna ukwenza ukuba uze ngapha nangapha nangaphezulu kwakhona.” (“Wanna make you cum over and over and over again.”)
“Nanini na ndifuna.” (“Whenever I want.”)
"Kuba ndiyakuthanda." (“Because I love you.”)
“Intwana yam.” (“My pussy.)
“Umntwana wam oyintombazana.” (“My baby girl.”)
They were words of promise, words of desire as you cum once more. The waves of her husky voice surged through you as her mouth wrapped around your clit and you whimpered through your overwhelming orgasm, legs trembling as you trapped Shuri between the thickness of your dark thighs.
“Sh-Shuri…please. I-ah…I can’t take it anymore.”
“I know, baby.”
“Then…please.” You were shaking, completely overtaken by it all. “Please Shuri…I can’t.”
Shuri plants one last kiss onto your clit and you shudder, breasts and thick thighs jiggling one last time before Shuri removes herself from the heaven between them. You were her baby girl, her princess, her everything and she didn’t want you to feel anything less. She comes back up to face you, caressing your cheek as sleep crept through your mind.
“Y/n…are you able to wash up yourself?”
You nodded and Shuri smiled, proud of you.
“Then go do it, please. I’ll be out here waiting for you.”
“W-wait…why can’t we wash up together? We always do it together,” you pouted.
“Sshhhh,” she whispered, still caressing your beautiful face. “Kukanye nje, sthandwa sam. Ndiyacela." (“Just this once, my love. Please.”)
You hesitate, but nod, bringing her in for a kiss as you taste the remnants of your pleasure on Shuri’s lips.
“Good girl. Always my good girl.”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
♪ ༘⋆ Open up those gates to your heart, Only if you’ll let me ♪ ༘⋆ (favorite song - toosii)
After finishing your shower and changing into pajamas, you step out of the bathroom only to be greeted by a heartwarming sight that leaves you holding back tears. A trail of rose petals leads from the bathroom door to the neatly made hotel bed, where you and Shuri shared your intimate moment. Placed on the bed is a large stuffed panda bear, a thoughtful reminder that Shuri noticed your love for these creatures during your trip to China to visit The Great Wall. Right in front of the bear sits a beautifully wrapped box. Shuri's smile warms your heart, and you rush into her arms, straddling her with a passionate kiss. She changed into low waisted black joggers with a matching black crop top, showing off her sculpted body and toned arms as the subtle gold chain remained on her neck. She looked damn good.
“Baby, you didn’t have to do all this.”
“Of course I did. You’re my girlfriend.”
“Shuri…”
“Sshhh, y/n, just open it.”
“But I didn’t get you anything.”
“Y/n…I don’t get you things to get things in return. I get you things because I love you and because I can. Now open it…please?”
"Mmmm okay!," you giggled, playfully pecking Shuri's nose before removing yourself from her lap. You picked up the gift, giving it a little shake before eagerly unwrapping it. Inside, you found exquisite souvenirs from each of the stops you and Shuri had made on your trip to the Seven Wonders. The items looked rare and valuable, serving as a beautiful memento of the precious time you had spent with the woman you cherished the most.
“Shuriiiiii! Where-how? How did you get these??”
Shuri shrugs her shoulders, a half cocky grin painting her face. “I have my ways.”
You rolled your eyes in a playful manner, proceeding to dig through the gift. Along with it all was a kimoyo bracelet, and you smiled at the gesture.
“Thank you babyyyy,” you squeal, wrapping your arms around her neck. “Now I can do all the things you do!”
“Welllll not quite. Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now,” she chuckled. “I made this mostly so I can keep you safe even when I’m not around. That amongst…other things.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“What things?”
“Oh you know…like…things…like I can give you orgasms with it.”
“Oh my god, Shuri!,” you laugh, playfully hitting her once more before proceeding to look in the box, finding a folded piece of paper at the bottom.
“Oooo, what’s this??,” you ask before Shuri takes the paper from your hand, laughing in your state of confusion.
“I wanna read this to you myself,” she says, her voice smooth as silk.
“What is it?”
“Just relax for me. Here…hold this,” she says, placing the panda plush in your arms. It was so cute.
Shuri slowly unfolded the paper, kissing your lips before inhaling deeply.
“I call this piece ‘Seven Wonders’.”
“Piece? Shuri, what is this?”
“Just…listen...”
✎✯ “They say the world contains wonders, I heard there were seven
But what wonders do they speak of if we don’t live in heaven?
They say the world contains beauty, but for me it was tragic
And though I don’t believe fables, I believe you are magic
I say the world contains death, yet in you I find life
And though now I’m your girlfriend, I hope one day I’m your wife
I say the world is but hell, yet you are my heaven
And if the world contains wonders, then you are all seven” ✯✎
With each word, each stanza and rhyme, you were brought to a state of healing. A state where you could feel Shuri’s words pick up the pieces for you and mend them back into one. You were an emotional wreck, tears falling down your cheeks uncontrollably to a point where softs sobs ripped out of your mouth. Your chest felt heavy and light all at once, as you were overtaken and consumed by the love you had for your girlfriend.
“Shuri, what the fuck???,” you cried, basking it all in. “That was so fucking beautiful, what? I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything, nkoszana. You just have to believe it.”
“Shuri I…I didn’t even get you anything.”
"Baby, come here," she murmurs gently, gesturing for you to return and settle back into her lap, and you comply willingly. With your puffy eyes meeting hers, she can't help but be overwhelmed with love for you.
“You are my gift.”
Your lips form a pout, eyes twinkling with your tears.
“What life took away from me, Bast replaced with you. You, my angel, are my gift.” She places a kiss on your cheek, the salt of your tears lingering on her lips and she allows it because she wants to stay here forever, wants to sulk in everything she’s feeling as a reminder that this is not a dream. She begins crying with you, overwhelmed with the gift that was you, overwhelmed that she had explored the world’s most intricate of beauties and yet you were still the most beautiful to her.
“Thank you my love,” you whisper for her ears only, nuzzling your face into the warmth of her neck as she kisses your temple in longing. “You’re my everything, Shuri.”
“Nawe ungowam.” (“And you are mine.”) ❁ཻུ۪۪♡
♪ ༘⋆ I see reflections of me when I look at you, and I ain’t never felt this way, and I can’t lie girl you got it, and I got pain all in my body you helping me heal from, lil’ mama a real one ♪ ༘⋆ (reflections - dustystaytrue ft. toosii)
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cheesus-doodles · 5 months
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i wonder how izana is like if he had a s/o during the time when he was the black dragon leader
Red Dragonflies Masterlist | Masterlist
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i have actually answered this previously in these Relationship HCs ! and this is also the case in my red dragonflies AU, former gang leader reader is actually Izzy's s/o when he was the black dragon leader - have linked the masterlist up top cough
but because I like to rant, here are some more thoughts about yan black dragon-era Izzy and you, which can apply to both regular reader and gang leader reader!
Izana was probably already very unstable and jealous during his time as the 8th Gen Black Dragon leader, what with the entire situation between Shinichiro constantly talking about Mikey, and learning that the Black Dragon gang would go to said boy instead of him. Combined that with him having found you as an s/o, someone that Izana would see as his, something that he could finally own and keep to himself without having to share (unlike the whole situation with Shinichiro), no doubt that it wouldn't take long for Izana to swing into yandere tendencies, becoming extremely overbearing and overprotective over you.
With you around, there is a very clear difference in Izana's mannerisms and general behavior. Almost a personality flip in fact, it's night and day how he acts in your presence and when you aren't present. After all, there's a certain way that Izana wants you to perceive him as, and then there's everything else - so this white-haired boy would be sure to carefully tailor and adjust how he acts around you to what he knows you like (to a certain degree of course). As long as you don't threaten the status quo, as long as you keep by his side and his side only, your precious Izzy is whoever you want him to be. Loving, kind, doting, he can almost seem to read your mind and predict your moods.
Knows how to make you feel better after a shitty day, knows what to say and what to do to get you falling heads over heels for him over and over. But don't let that fool you into thinking that you were beyond his manipulation, because nope, not a chance. If he even has the slightest doubt that you were drifting away from him, or worse, thinking of leaving him, expect for Izzy to start subtly tearing you down. He wouldn't sound any different from what he usually does, cooing, low, soft murmur, but the things that slip from his mouth; it pokes at your insecurities, stirs the doubts you have about yourself. Yes, you were the most beautiful person he had laid eyes on, but did you think that really extended to everyone? Surely, surely you know that only he can love you like this? You couldn't possibly survive away from his side the way you are, right?
In his mind, Izzy is only doing it because he loved you as much as he did - you were made for him, like he was made for you. He couldn't live without you, so even if he had to hurt you a little, it'll all be worth it. You'll see that it was all for you.
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Wouldn't be uncommon to see him roaring down streets, both city and mountain ones alike, on his motorbike with you clung to his back and with no specific destination in mind - just likes to spend time with you, brings you anywhere that you want to go. Besides, the delinquents in the city, be they Black Dragons or rival scum, know better than to stare at the two of you. Loves light, airy places, so be prepared to spend a lot of time just hanging out together on rooftops and mountains, somewhere where you can feel the breeze through your hair, where Izzy can get you all to himself. All your attention being on him is the best kind of date.
There's no such thing as privacy, period. He absolutely needs to know everything that happens in your life, and anything less would earn you a full tantrum and fit. Put simply, its either Izana is there, hovering next to you and keeping one violet eye on all your ongoings, and no doubt this baby boy has someone (cough Inupi cough) tagging you from a respectable distance when he isn't free. That is, on top of having unfettered access to everything on your phone; call logs, messages, photos. Nothing is secret from him, why would it be? What do you have to hide from your partner?
You don't go anywhere new without Izzy. Why do you have to? What were you hiding? Your future husband would be happy to take you anywhere you have to go: cafe, the new department store downtown, even festivals. So unless you were trying to hide something from him, why wouldn't you want him to go along? Don't you know how dangerous it is out there? What if you get jumped by a rival gang? Needless to say, keeping presents a secret from this boy isn't a walk in a park.
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Everything else that Izana doesn't think you would approve of seeing would be done out of your sight. He doesn't like having you see the darker side of your boyfriend, the one that deals with weapons and drugs, the one that beats people, both civilians and his own gang members alike for the mildest of perceived infringements against you. You were too soft, too delicate for that. What if you got scared off? What would he do if you became frightened of him?
Instead, all his rage, all his hatred, he poured into the Black Dragon gang, leading them down darker and darker paths. The entire world was scum as far as he was concerned, trash that he had to beat and flatten into perfection so you didn't have to foul your hands and feet.
Sure Izana couldn't keep Shinichiro to himself as much as he desperately wanted to, the first time he truly found family - the source of a lot of his anger and jealousy. He hated Mikey, and always will, for stealing his older brother. But you were perfection, divinity, and you filled the hole in his heart; you didn't have to see that side of him if you just stuck by his side and returned his love. You were the only thing giving stability to a very fragile Izzy, and god only knows what would happen to him if that stability ever left. Izana would give you the sun and the moon if you wanted them both, all he asked for in return was your loyalty.
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Matt and Peter trying to see who can fuck you better but they both fuck you so good that you become a babbling mess
i meshed two requests together, this one as well as matt and peter fucking villain! reader :)) i had a lotta fun with this one, enjoy!
VIGILANTE SHIT- P.B PARKER & MATT MURDOCK
Pairing: Peter! Matt! x Vigilante Black Cat! Reader (enemies to lovers)
Word Count: 8.8k
Warnings: SMUT, praise and degradation kink, mocking/ babying, petnames, teasing, swearing, mentions of blood/ violence (matt also bandages readers wound), bondage, dry humping, masturbation, breeding kink, man handling, overstim, fluff tho<33
"and i don't dress for villains, or for innocents.. i'm on my vigilante shit again. i don't start shit but i can tell you how it ends..."- vigilante shit, taylor swift
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You had married the night.
It was your escape, your desires, your dreams. The stars were rings upon your fingers, the moon a shining spotlight through the clouds as you’d stalk your prey during the hunting hours.
You came alive in the darkness.
You felt like a burst of light, energy and power bursting through your veins. It was when you could take charge. When you could sneak up on people, make them fall to their knees and beg for salvation.
It was when you could get revenge on the people who deserved it most.
You had trained yourself to be a soldier. To have your guard up, to be alert and stealthy. The Black Cat, is what they had called you. You were quiet and flexible, getting in places the average person couldn't.
It was ideal for stealing.
“Stealing” things that didn't belong to the people who had stolen them in the first place. They didn't belong to the white, rich old men the prowled the upper parts of New York.
They didn't belong to the thugs and gangs in Hell's Kitchen either.
They belonged to you.
It was a waiting game, finding the right time to swoop in from your spot on the rooftops to scurry down and collect the goods. But it was one you were willing to play. You had played many games since your time on the streets in the twilight hours, like cat and mouse.
Matt Murdock and Peter Parker were crawling on you like spiders, and you had run into them more times than you could count. As fast as they appeared, you had fled.
They had no idea who you were, but you had made headlines. The thief in the night. The media didn't know anything. They liked to spin and twist lies for their own benefit, so that things would sell and people would become frightened.
What they didn't know- is that you only stole from people who deserved it.
Your own version of justice.
And right now, the men you were watching from the alleyway deserved it. You had been watching the Pirus gang now for days, hiding behind old warehouse containers and perching yourself upon balconies and ledges to spy upon them and their dirty deeds that made your own hands feel greasy with grime.
They had something that belonged to you. You had noted the 18k gold ring getting pocketed between them, a ring that had been gifted to your mother before she had passed.
You didn't care about the imaginary price tag that was attached to it, like these crooks did. You didn’t care you could sell it and easily make a hundred thousand dollars, waving goodbye to student debt and mortgage rates. You just cared that it was in a safe, and valuable place.
Tucked away in the little vintage jewelry box she had gifted you before she took her final breaths on that old, creaking bed.
A growl ripped through your throat as you saw them flip it up like a coin, hearing their mutters about ‘thank god the bitch is dead’. They were just a leap away. With a push, you could jump down upon the pavement, ripping them to shreds with your claws.
You had been patient enough, a clock ticking in your head with each second that had passed where the ring wasn't in your possession.
The ring was an easy target, and you shifted your weight stealthy to propel your body forward.
It was all coming together. It was easy.
Almost too easy.
As you guided yourself, eye on the prize- a sharp jerk yanked you back. The breath was stolen from your lungs, your scream muffled as a hand was placed across your mouth.
“Shhhh. Not a word.” the low voice murmured in your ear, his warm breath making the hairs on your neck rise with anxiety as you struggled against his chokehold grip he held on you against his large, solid body.
You were brought back in through the large warehouse window you had so stupidly turned your back on, too focused on the activities below to realize what was going on behind you.
Who was behind you, for that matter. You twisted your foot to step on his own, but he avoided it, clearly trained in combat as he fought back against your contained fight.
“Don’t make this harder for yourself sweetheart.” he growled, twisting you around to smash your body against the cold brick, the wind knocked out of you, too stunned to cry for help as he tossed you like a rag doll.
A black bandanna covered his eyes, toned body was hidden under the same black fabric, blood smeared across his cracked knuckles. You searched him for some recognition of who he was, but you were too dazed from the sudden assault, heartbeat racing too loud in your ears from adrenaline to think clearly enough.
“She's got fight in her man.” the mystery man smirked, as if you were a wild animal in a cage, desperate to get free.
Shivers broke out across your skin from under the leather as shocks went through your whole body, white, sticky webs clinging you to the wall like a mouse in a trap.
Then it clicked. Oh. Fuck.
“Oh you fuckers.”
A second body hung from the ceiling, emerging from the darkness into the dingy warehouse lighting, attached to a web as he waved at you from upside down.
“Well hello there!” he said cheerfully as if the three of you were all buddy-buddy and this was an everyday event.
“Was that a goddamn Star Wars reference?” you huffed, wanting to strangle the both of them.
“Yes. Maybe. Maybe yes.” He dropped from the ceiling, bouncing on his heels as he looked at you with interest through his mask, head tilted with curiosity.
“You need to slow your heartbeat. Calm down.” the masked man murmured lowly, listening to the increasing speed of its thumps as he neared you. It was then your vision cleared, and you could get a good look at them in the dimmed lighting.
Matt and Peter. 
“I would be calm, if I wasn't webbed to a fucking wall right now.” you sang sweetly, making him smirk.
“It's for your own good.”
“Well technically, it’s for our own good because if she weren't bound she’d be clawing our faces off right now.” Peter noted, his voice fading in the distance as he found some random old chairs that were scattered in the corner.
“Peter’s right ya know.” you played along,  the dragging of the chair's feet against the stone floor coming to an abrupt halt.
“You know my name?”
“Well duh. I’m not stupid, no matter how much you and Mr. Matthew over here may think I am.” You couldn't keep the sly smirk off your face, knowing you had them right where you wanted them.
You couldn't defeat them, and you knew the gang had most likely scrambled by now, along with your ring- but you could keep them talking.
“It's nice for us to finally be acquainted again.” Matt sighed, watching as Peter brought up the chair, plopping himself in one directly in front of you. As if you were a circus act, or the hottest new movie in the box office.
You huffed, not meeting his eyes as Peter curled his feet under him, sitting crisscross in the old, rusting chair. “What is this a therapy session?”
“Does it need to be? Tell me, my darling- how is your relationship with your father?” Peter asked mockingly, making you hiss out in response.
“Alright, alright enough. We just want to talk to you…”
“I’m not giving you my name.” you replied sharply, slightly struggling against the webs, having no luck of them weakening.
“How is that remotely fair?” Peter scoffed.
“Peter- enough. Fine, be that way. As I said, we just want to talk.” Matt exclaimed, cracking his knuckles as his head tilted to listen, surveying the nearby area with his ears.
“I think they left.” you murmured, and he nodded in response, mouth drawn into a hard line. “They left cause you scared them off with all your thrashing. Settle down woman, the webs won't break that easily.”  Peter hinted, watching in amusement as you finally gave up, putting your head down in defeat.
“I hate you.” you murmured softly, quiet as a pin drop as you stared down at the cold concrete.
“Yeah, yeah tell us something we don't know.” Matt sighed, your eyes flickering back up to look at Peter, his legs still crossed in an almost childish manner as he leaned his head in his hands- appearing bored.
“Let's get this over and done with. What do you want to talk about?” you asked, already knowing the answer.
They were going to threaten you- obviously, or they'd try and talk you over with their magical words of wisdom, about how being ‘good’ was better than whatever the fuck you were doing. You didn’t care for it.
But you knew they wouldn't let you go until they said what they had to say.
You fought the urge to shiver, a cold breeze filtering through the broken windows, seething to chill your bones. Your nipples hardened, and you swore Matt’s head tilted slightly, a smirk dotting his face.
“You. Helping us.” Peter retorted, and before you could stop it, you laughed.
You laughed and laughed and laughed because what the fuck? That was the last thing you had expected them to say, his words seeming like an inside joke you weren’t involved with.
The cold had now disappeared, replaced with a warmth and bubbliness that pooled in the pit of your stomach.
“What?” was all you could gasp out, your sides hurting from the continuous laughter that poured out of you. You laughed partly because yes- it was funny, but also because you were confused and anxious. Not that they needed to know that of course.
“We need your help taking on Kingpin.”
There it was.
The laughter stopped. That name had left you scarred, your insides shriveling up at the whispers of memories that trickled through your brain.
“I don’t get involved with him.” you stated, voice hardened like cracked sugar. The air was sucked out of the room, and you saw fear and darkness slither across the brick.
“I know you don’t. That's why we’re now asking you to get involved with him, with us. We need another hand to play in his card game.”
“I don’t. Get. Involved.” you hissed, drawing out each symbol as if they were illiterate. Which they must have been. They must have been borderline stupid to think you would help them, with Kingpin nonetheless.
He was way out of your territory, and there were even lines you didn't cross once they were drawn.
“We’ll help you get your mother's things back.” Peter said cooly from his side of the room. Your head whipped towards him, eyes wide.
Maybe you didn't have the upper hand afterall.
“I don’t need your help.” Peter snorted, hand extending to the broken window, the one you had been perched out of a few minutes prior.
“Yeah. I’m sure.” he said sarcastically. “I had it under control, until you two showed up and ruined it.” you snarled.
“We saved you. They had multiple firearms on them, and you were severely outnumbered. The second you dropped, you would have been shot on the spot, too many bullets to stand a chance.” Matt replied to your outburst coolly. “But you wouldn't have known that, would you? They were tucked away, in their boots and under their jackets. Because if you did know, you would have been openly committing suicide, and that seems unlike you since theres jobs that still need to be done.”
You were silent. They had you in their webs. Quite literally, at that.
“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
“You always have a choice.” Matt replied softly, his demeanor seeming to change. Almost as if... as if he felt bad for you. As if he could see right through you, could feel the pain and sorrow in your heart that ripped and clawed at you daily, could feel the loneliness and anguish that haunted you.
Maybe he didn't have many choices in his lifetime.
His words were nearly comforting, but you knew they were one-sided. You did have a choice, but if you didn’t accept their offer- things wouldn't turn out good. Not that they would working with them anyways.
But what ‘choice’ did you really have?
“Fine. When do we start?” 
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“It’s fucking cold.” you groaned, the air around you seeming brisker with each passing second. New York never seemed to be warm, the skin-tight suit plastered to you not helping the cause.
It was lightweight and stretchy, its fabric perfect for fighting and climbing- but it provided next to no warmth.
The sirens shrieked as they passed by under you, the city lights illuminating the two men next to you as you sat perched on the roof.
It had been a few weeks since the webbing incident, and you now waited- bored out of your mind for an instruction. It was unlike you to listen and not lead, but you wanted to see how the dice would roll.
You crouched low, the concrete block rough and bitter to the touch as you knelt at Peter’s level.
“It’s not cold. You’re just being a pussy.” Peter drawled, the wind whipping through his messy locks as he looked down, taking in the bustling traffic below.
The cars were all fancy here, all Porches and Bentleys on this side of town. It made you feel out of sorts, and uncomfortable in your skin.
“Did you just call me a pussy?”
“He meant it romantically.” Matt replied, your eyes meeting his sharp jawline as he sourced out the area from the other side of you.
“I did not.” he scoffed, a blush burning on his cheeks as he turned away, suddenly very interested with the stone ledge.
“Yeah, yeah whatever. When are we moving in?” you asked impatiently, rocking on the balls of your feet anxiously. It felt like you had been sitting up here forever, despite meeting them back near Hell's Kitchen over half an hour ago.
So in reality, you had really only been sitting here for a good twenty minutes. Yet, it dragged on.
Where was the action? The fighting? You were sick of waiting.
“Don’t even think of moving in without my signal.” Matt stated, sensing your anticipation as you sighed.
“What are we even waiting for?!”
“For them to take their fighting somewhere else.” Peter snorted, obviously as anxious to get going as you were, but it appeared he was more collected. He had been working with Matt a lot longer than you had, and you hoped to keep it that way.
You watched as Matt listened closely, obviously aware of the conversation that was appearing behind the glass in front of you. The two men were tall and build, almost double the size of you. Anger was written across their faces, buried in the creases of their foreheads as they yelled, hands frantically moving. Their black suits were wrinkled, blood dotting one's forehead as if a fight had occurred before this one.
You tilted your head, curious.
Were they not on the same side? Were they not both fighting for Fisk, defending him?
“They seem pretty angry for people who appear to be on the same side.” you hinted, trying to think of reasons they could possibly be so mad.
“You’d be surprised how competitive his men can get, when he's angry the way has been lately.” Peter stated, looking to Matt for instruction as a gun was cocked, hands going up in surrender.
“Should we intervene?”
Matt just shook his head.
“Let it play out.” was all he said. You despised how calm and collected he was about this. Part of you wanted him to be rash, so you could save him and yell at him for how stupid he was. But that wasn't his style, and you knew it never had been. He and Peter waited in the shadows, counting down the minutes until it was right to strike.
Suddenly another man appeared from the hallway, breaking up the fight. They left the room, and you felt your body instinctively moving forward, ready to leap, though you couldn’t reach.
“The documents Peter and I need are in the office across from that one, in a safe behind the painting behind the desks. All the offices look the same, it's an industrial office. You’re in charge of making sure no one comes up on this floor.”
“So what I’m on watch duty? You brought me along so I could protect you guys while you play capture the flag?” you scoffed. Seeing as to how they quite literally webbed you to a wall, asking for your help- you figured it’d be for something much cooler than this.
“For now.” was all he said, a tone in his voice indicating something else was on the table for a later date. “I don’t really have a choice in this.”
“You always have a choice.” he repeated, words echoing those at the warehouse.
“I’m going to fucking punch you.”
A laugh escaped Peter and he was quick to cover it with a slap to the mouth as he watched the stand down you had with Matt. Nothing was coming out of this, and you weren't expecting it to. But it was still fun to try and bother him anyways.
Nothing seemed to get under his skin, which irked you even more. He was the water to your fire, the voice of reasoning. Fuck his reasoning.
“Punch me and I’m telling you right now things will not end in your favor.” Matt snarled, hand grabbing your wrist as you raised it.
“I’ll take my chances.” you hissed back, hair raising on your arms like a cat’s from under your suit.
“Go.” he commanded sternly. “What?”
“Go. The floor is clear, for now. Peter’s taking you over.”
“Wha-” Before you could beg to differ, confused about what the man meant, you felt an arm wrap around your middle. Matt's grip released from your wrist, yet you could still feel the warmth of his skin against yours, the area where his fingers brushed you starting to tingle.
The wind rushed in your ears as Peter grabbed you, a web shooting from his wrist as he swung you off your feet. It took everything in you not to scream, the movement so quick and sudden you felt your lungs come out through your ribcage. You were soaring through the air, Peter's grip tightening on you as you watched the world blaze by in a blend of colours from under you, coming to a standstill as he stuck to the side of Fisks building.
You looked over to where you once were, finding it empty. Matt had already disappeared, not a whisper or a trace that he had ever been there remaining.
“I think I’m going to be sick.” you whispered, looking down and regretting it immensely.
“I thought you liked high places? Don’t all cats?”
“Not this high.” you whimpered, willing for him to pry open the window quicker than he was currently. Although you gave him credit, he was doing it one-handed after all.
“Just don’t look down. That's what I did before I got used to it.” he shrugged, and you clung to him tighter, breathing in the cologne he wore through his suit. It was nice, you realized, sort of hating yourself for liking it as much as you did.
All of a sudden the two of you were much too close, the air becoming hot and saccharine despite being almost twenty stories high, the wind whipping through your hair wildly.
He let out a small grunt as you heard the window click open, the glass freeing enough space for you to wedge your body through.
“This is the storage room, down the hall from the office we’ll be at. Stay close.” he instructed, and you scrambled to grip onto the window ledge. “And don't let yarn be a distraction.” he added teasingly, darting away before you could let out a sly remark in return.
“Asshole” you muttered to yourself, slowly and quietly shutting the window behind you. You had landed upon a shelf, filled with cleaning supplies. The smell of chemicals burned, your nose twitching with disgust as you took in your surroundings.
It was quiet in here, minus the gentle hum of the air vents. Dark as the night outside, you were stealthy and careful not to knock anything over as you leaped to the floor, the hard tile cold under your hands.
Mops, buckets, vacuums and brooms all were dotted against the walls, cleaning chemicals so advanced you didn't even know if you could pronounce them. Sometimes you forgot how much money this man really had. It seemed unimaginable.
Kingpin could probably buy the entire city if he wanted, in all honesty. You were rather confused why he hadn't yet, since that always seemed to be his endgame. Changing the city. Changing the way people lived, changing the way the economy ran to better suit his needs.
All this change that didn’t need to happen. He could change his shitty attitude, or even the paint colour in here. You thought with a sigh, dusting your hands off as you rose to your full height, on high alert as your hand reached for the door handle.
It was quiet outside. Too quiet.
You held your breath, feeling your lungs tighten as you slid beside the door. Your back was to the wall, heartbeat thumping in your chest as you heard a voice call from the end of the hallway, turning the corner.
Waiting wasn't something you were very good at, but you knew you had to time this right. The whole mission- and your life, depended on it. Just as his foot hit the hardwood in front of your hidden alcove, you swung the door open, arm reaching around his throat.
A meer gasp escaped him as you pounced on him, dragging him into the cleaning closet with you. His arm went back to hit you with his gun, but you had wrapped around him like a koala bear- his arms unable to you. His gun clattered to the ground as you kicked it, squeezing your arm around his airways even tighter as he fell back against a shelf.
You winced as the pain shot up your arm as he slammed you back against the wooden ledges, cleaning supplies rattling in the struggle.
“Can you pass out quieter?!” you hissed, feeling his grip lack as he slipped into unconsciousness. You jumped off of him as he thudded down to the ground, limbs spread out as his breathing steadied.
You sighed, dusting off your suit again with the quick bush of your hands. He had got dirt on you- the bastard. Grabbing underneath his armpits, you attempted to trudge the large, beefy man to sit against the shelf.
If he was going to be unconscious, he might as well ruin his posture in the process. It seemed like a fair trade, seeming as he almost pointed a gun at you and smacked your shoulders hard enough to see little black spots dot across your vision.
He would be out cold for a while, hopefully, long enough for your little boy scout duo to get their shit and scramble. You watched as he slouched over, proud of your handiwork. You were lucky he wasn't as large as the other guards you had seen, or else you weren't so sure your strategy would work.
Remembering you had a job to do, you slipped back over to the closed door, poking your head out slightly as you heard the ever so slight creak of a window close from the office down the hall.
Good. They got in.
You were scared to breathe, scared the rush of air whooshing through your trachea would set off some sort of alarm or trigger. It was like walking on pins and needles. The air seemed tighter here, stuffy as it weighed down on you. It was almost an unfamiliar presence was lurking nearby, someone you had seen in a nightmare once before, but had convinced yourself they weren't real.
Shivering, you tried your best to ignore it, slipping off behind the corner- somewhere you knew the cameras wouldn't be able to see you. Peter had already mapped out the floor plan earlier- his long, elegant fingers gliding over the page, his words tuning out slightly as you felt warmth spread through you the longer you watched his fingers point and tap.
You thought of them now as you watched the empty hallways, knowing they were probably gliding across the ridges of the mahogany desk as he waited for Matthew to finish his task.
They brushed against you now as you felt the hairs on the back of your neck raise, a ghost slipping through you.
Someone was watching you. Someone was here with you, and it wasn't Peter.
Before you could turn fully, hands reached for you, tugging you under an invisible wave. You were dragged under the surface, the shock and adrenaline causing you to gasp for air as they yanked you back against the wall.
Men came from all directions, swarming you. You kicked and clawed, getting in a good few punches as you struggled.
You were caught. Again.
But this time, they wouldn't be willing to talk- like Matt and Peter were. You didn’t know what they do, which was the scary part.
“MATT-” You managed to call out, quickly silenced as a butt of a gun was hit to your forehead, the force so strong your neck snapped back, head rolling limp as the sound of the crack reverberated through your ears.
The world turned dark, and you prayed deep down he had some idea what was happening to you at the time being.
He was a catholic. He’d hear.
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The world was fuzzy.
Everyone said that, that when their eyes opened it was difficult to see for a bit, shapes and colours blending together. But it was bad. Worse than they put it in the books, when they didnt know how else to change the scene, so they just made the character unconscious or whatever.
You feared you were trapped in a watercolour painting as your eyes opened, hand reaching up to grab the place where your head was throbbing like a jackhammer.
You ached for it to stop, moaning out in pain as the word started to reform itself.
“Shh, shh relax.” a familiar voice called, though he sounded slightly out of tune and distant. Matthew came into view as you turned your head, his hand reaching out to press you back into the pillows.
“What happened?” you croaked out, trying to hold back the tears as you felt dried blood crust on your forehead. There was the sound of water trickling as he twisted out a clean rag, the bowl on the bedside table scattered with medical supplies.
You managed to move slightly, allowing him to sit next to you on the bed, a slight frown on his face as he sighed.
“Peter ran out to back you up, but we were outnumbered. He grabbed you and we took off. There were too many of them swarming us for it to be a decent fight, especially because you were knocked out.”
The warm cloth was pressed against your gash, and you flinched from the sudden contact as he tended to you.
Who would have thought? Not you.
“I thought the Matthew Murdock never backed down from a fight?” you asked curiously, knowing it would twinge a nerve or two. But it didn’t. He just shrugged, setting the cloth back down next to the others.
“I do when someone who is on my side is hurt.” he stated, voice seeming to be filled with an emotion you couldn't quite decide on. It was a factual statement, and you were honestly shocked he wasn't more upset with you.
You were silent as he stood, bed creaking slightly from the removal of his extra weight, his arms hanging limp at his sides. It was then you could get a good look at him, though the lighting was dim in his apartment.
His knuckles were slightly smeared with dried blood, some slashes dotted across his forearms that seemed fresh.
But he was unbothered.
He had put on the mask you had put on so many times before, becoming a soldier. Becoming guarded.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” he noted, sensing your gaze on the marks that dotted across his exposed skin. All you could do was clear your throat as you peeled your eyes from him, desperate to think of anything else but running your fingers across his skin.
You focused on the red numbers from the analog that stared at you, seeing it was an odd hour in the early morning. The heavy rain pattered against the windows, the comforting sound reminding you of nights at your mother's, listening to the rain hit the tin.
Her soft perfume would wrap you in an embrace as she’d lie with you, book in hand as you’d drift off to sleep. The sound always brought you back to a place of serenity, even in the toughest of times. You urged to find yourself back to the memories of her, but were interrupted by the sound of the door slamming, and the squealing of wet boots.
“He returns triumphant.” Peter called from the entrance, a plastic bag dropping to the ground with the water that dripped from his coat as he shrugged it off.
You groaned, forcing yourself to swing your legs over the bed, the hardwood cold against your feet. Pushing up, you wobbled slightly as you rose to your full height- feeling like a fawn on its new legs.
“Did Claire cause a fuss?” Matt asked, flicking on a light from around the corner. You heard water run from a faucet as Peter shook out his dripping hair, running his fingers through it before carrying the bag over to him.
“No, no she seemed fine with it. Kinda rushy but-” His attention slid over to you, concern across his features.
“Hey, hey you're supposed to be in bed.”
“I don't like you.” you murmured, trying to shoo him away as he walked towards you.
“I don't care. You’re supposed to be resting.” he sighed, rolling his eyes as you protested. Peter's hands were warm, despite being outside in the crisp, chilled New York air as they picked you up gently.
He treated you as if you were a piece of fine china when he walked, moving ever so slowly to avoid jutting you around more than necessary. It was odd, considering you both had given each other the side eye more times than you could count.
You weren't used to the attention. You weren't sure if you liked it or not, it was too unfamiliar and new. But you accepted it, tucking your head to your chin as you clutched his sweater tighter, the clenching of your fists bringing you relief.
He carried you to the bathroom, the brighter lighting making you squint as he entered. Matt stood at the vanity, the bag of goods Peter had picked up scattered out on the counter. You gulped at the sight of the medical tools, the needle and thread making your skin crawl.
“I think I’m fine.” you said, anxiously clearing your throat as Peter set you down beside the sink. Matt resumed his doings, gathering the thread as if this were an everyday occurrence for him.
It very well could be, you realized.
“Seriously, I’m okay-”
“Hold her still.” Matt insisted to Peter as you made a move to slide off the counter. Panic swarmed you like flies, maggots chewing away at your lungs as you found it harder and harder to breathe.
It wasn't because of the boys, far from that. They had taken quite good care of you, despite the circumstances. It was the needle, the damn needle that made your stomach turn in on itself.
The idea of something sewing through layers of your skin did not sit right with you. You wanted to turn to the invisible camera,  break the fourth wall during this shit.
“Can you believe this shit? I can help take down Fisk, but I’m scared of a small needle? (and commitment sometimes)”  
“Breathe.” Matt commanded sternly as his hand gripped your thigh, sensing your bubbling fear. You shook your head frantically, your stomach starting to clench.
A gentle touch to your other thigh startled you, and you looked over in alarm as Peter's fingers brushed your skin, his eyes seeming to bleed raw with empathy. He seemed genuinely concerned for you, and you welcomed his touches with open arms as you started to shake and buzz with nerves.
“Kitty, it’s okay. I promise you, he knows what he’s doing.”
”I used to stitch up my dad after his fights when I was a kid. I’ve been doing it my whole life.” Matt replied softly. “It’s not that it’s just… it grosses me out. The needle- I mean.”
Matt tilted his head slightly, a small little smile on his face. The one you had seen so much when you were around him in the short period of time, the one he did when he was teasing you.
You wanted to rub it off his face, smear it like chocolate into his skin with the palm of your hand.
“You’re a brave lil thing. You’ll be okay.” You closed your eyes, doing anything to dissociate, anything to convince your mind you were in a better place. Knuckles clenched around the counters edge, nails scratching the sharp surface as you keened.
“I’ll be gentle.” he murmured in your ear, close enough so that you could breathe in his scent, could feel the heat that pulsed off him in a sinusoidal wave. 
He was far, yet so close in your mind, sight like tunnel vision as you tried not to be consumed by him. But it was impossible. The soft gentle squeeze on your thigh took away from Matt's actions, and you exhaled softly, steadily.
In for four. Hold for four. Out for four. In for four. Hold for-
“Which one of them did this to you?” Peter asked you benevolently, finger strumming a steady rhythm. You were scared for him to stop.
Suddenly, you didn't want to be left alone anymore. It was strange how the human body could react like this, how it could change and fluctuate depending on each situation was thrown at it. It wasn't equipped to handle them alone. It was a machine, but was unusable, nor was it well-oiled if someone wasn't there to support it.
In some cases, that was the last person you'd ever expect in your life to keep its maintenance.
“I’m not sure. He had a scar, right across his cheek. That’s all I could see of him, before the others came.”
Silence. Then another beat.
“We’ll kill them all.” was all he said, eyes slipping up to admire Matt's handiwork. Matt nodded, humming to himself softly as he patched you up with ease. Your eyes threatened to bulge out of their head at their comments, shocked that they could talk about this so… so lightly.
And for you? They would kill for you, someone they could barely stand to work with. It rubbed you the wrong way.
There was more to this than you realized.
“I thought the two of you didnt kill?” you asked hesitantly, gritting your teeth so hard they hurt as you felt Matt tug on the final stitch.
The two of them just shrugged. You didn't like how much they shrugged.
“We don't really.”
Then this was personal. This was about Fisk. You needed- no ached for more answers for the more questions that brewed in your mind,
Why Fisk? Why bring you into this? They most likely weren't planning on killing them because of you. You seemed too insignificant. There was a larger cause behind this, if it was driving them to killing instincts.
“So why?” You couldn't help but speak your current interest, too many questions churning deep inside the labyrinths of your mind.
“Done.” Matt sighed, ignoring your questions. A chill spread through your thigh as you felt Peter's hand slip from the surface of your skin, slightly scarred but smoothen after healing.
It felt like a shock, his hand retracting as if he was zapped from you. As if the trance was broken, and things were back to normal. Where you hated him, and he hated you, and neither of you could look at each other for more than two minutes without making faces like children.
His footsteps were silent, cat-like as he removed himself from the tension sharp enough you could cut it with a knife- as he should.
You’d go, or he would.
You slipped from the counter, watching as Matt started to put his supplies in random drawers, although they weren't random to him. He opened each one swiftly, knowing exactly where to put each item where.
You stood still, hoping he’d provide you with the answer you desired. You didn't want to leave this apartment without one.
But he ignored you, acting as if you weren't there. A childlike tendency was brewing inside you, and you fought the urge to not stop your foot against the cool tile and huff.
“Matt?”
“Yeah?”
Why won't you tell me anything? Why am I being left in the dark? Why, just why can't you tell me anything? But you didn't want to push anything.
It was too soon. You had a feeling deep down, small but visible, that’d they'd tell you at some point. Patience was key. It was key in that cleaning closet, and it was key now. It had overtaken so many parts of your life- being patient. It was difficult to master, but it was essential for independence.
“Thank you. For stitching me up, and taking care of me. I appreciate it.” you nodded, not waiting for a reply before you stepped out of the bathroom, heart heavy in your hands.
It had weighed on you- how exhausted you were. It was a lot for your body to handle, in such a short period of time. It was hard for you to admit it to yourself, but you registered the fact you hadn't done something as extreme as this.
Of course you had taken down organizations before, small little street gangs and such that caused disturbances to your true targets.
But this? Fisk? It was a lot. And you had a very strong feeling it wouldn't be ending soon.
The sound of a glass shifting across the table made you jump, the scraping of the glass against the mahogany an uncomfortable pause in the everlasting silence.
Peter’s hand closed around the cup, adams apple bobbing as he chugged the water back.
“You gonna sleep in just that?” he asked, eyebrow raised with a sly grin on his face. You looked down, the oversized tank top hanging down just past your knees.
You presumed it was one of Matt’s considering how large it was on you- and the fact all you had on you at the time was your suit.
They had seen you mostly naked. Oh my god.
Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you looked back up at him, determined not to let the humiliation you felt win. Besides, Peter was more pretty to look at than the floor anyways.
“What else am I supposed to wear? You gonna be a pervert?” His hands flew up in mock defense, eyes widening.
“No, no I’m a gentleman. Just worried you’ll be cold, that's all.”
“These floors better be heated then.” you shrugged, snagging a warm fuzzy blanket off the arm of the couch.
“No ones sleeping on the floor. I’m on the couch, you're with Parker in the bed.” Matt chipped out, emerging from the bathroom at last. It was as if he was your conversation- not wanting to interrupt in case someone said something snarky and he’d drop the popcorn.
It took you a second to understand what he said fully, feeling incompetent.
“The bed?”
“The bed.” You shook your head hectically, the room blurring.
“I can sleep on the floor.”
“I know you can.” he replied, hand touching the lower area of your back as he passed you, making you shiver.
“But it’d be much better if you slept in the bed with your injuries. And besides, what guest sleeps on the floor?” he asked coyly, fluffing up the couch pillows.
Peter’s smile was mischievous as ever, a glimmer in his eye as he took you in.
“C'mon kitty. I don't bite. Promise.” You refused to trust a promise from Parker. But you felt your feet begin to automatically walk over to the comfort of the bed, with its warm sheets that smelt of lavender.
Today was bundles of nightmares all smashed into each other, toppling over one another to cram themselves into the twenty-four hours.
What would sleeping next to Parker do to add to that? 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ He added a lot.
Though it wasn't nightmares- the opposite in fact, it was more trouble to your own morals than you thought was possible.
You woke just as the sun rose, only managing to muster a few hours of shut eye despite the events before. Though your injuries were numbed from pain meds, it was spent tossing and turning between the sheets, trapped in the labyrinth of your own mind.
You were internally angry at yourself, mad at the attraction you felt towards the two men. It had only been a few weeks, and anytime their eyes lingered on you for too long you felt your panties start to dampen.
You wondered if they could tell.
The idea that they could excited you even more.
This wasn't supposed to happen, this little rendezvous of sexual tension between the three of you. You were the villain, they were the heroes. The villain wasn't supposed to clash with the hero in that way- it was off-script.
Yet you felt frozen in place as the birds chirped, Peter's warm body so close to yours you felt the hardening bulge in his pj pants- his large arm draped over your body.
Everyone was still asleep as far as you knew, but you wouldn't be surprised if Matt was awake. He was as quiet as a mouse, most likely listening to your quickening heartbeat as Peter's arm brushed against your hardened nipples, and you opened your legs slightly.
You swallowed, too afraid to make a sound.
“Mmm here kitty, kitty.” he whispered, voice husky and laced with sleep against your scalp.
Your eyes widened.
Was he dreaming about you?
Shifting, you brushed the curve of your ass against his bulge, making him groan. There was no harm in a little fun- was there? It’s not like you were in love with them or anything.
Who said you couldn't mess around for a bit- act on that sexual tension?
You heard his breath catch in his throat, eyes opening slowly to feel you pressed up against him.
“Were you dreaming of me?” you asked innocently, starting to slowly tease him, his fingers brushing circles against your hardened nipples.
“I like when you do that, ya know. They're so sensitive.”
“You minx. You're being a tease.” he growled softly, pinching your nipple harshly as you softly yelped.
“Don’t you like it when I’m a tease though bug boy? It just means you’ll have to train me real good.” you smiled, turning back to give him puppy dog eyes, resulting him practically dry-humping you.
You knew Matt could smell your sweet arousal, and you wondered how long he would hold off before yelling at the two of you to stop fucking around on his bed.
“I thought you hated me?”
“I do. But you feel so good.” you sighed, coy smile blooming as he shimmed lower, teeth sinking deep into your neck as he slid his hand down to part your legs even further.
“Such a fucking whore. Just some cock will shut you up- won’t it?”
You nodded frantically, the hiss that slipped from his lips sounding like music to your ears as he felt how wet you were through the flimsy fabric.
“Please. Please I’ll be so good I promise-” you begged, squirming with anticipation as he chuckled lowly.
“Oh so now she switches up hmm? Silly girl.” he cooed, slipping your thong to the side. You couldn't believe this was really happening. It made your head spin, made your limbs tingly at the thought alone how wrong this was.
Wasting no time, he tugged down his boxers, slowly teasing you as he slid the tip along your wet folds. You knew he was doing it just to spite you, and you were insistent on not giving him the satisfaction.
Biting your lip, you shivered as he toyed with you- a cat playing with its dinner.
“Oh so no back talk now? Good.” he growled, sliding it in to the hilt, making you slap your hands over your mouth with a means to silence the moans that threatened to escape.
Though there was no point, Matt heard every little breath and whimper you protruded, cock hard and heavy in his hands as he stoked it like some pervert.
Peter stuffed you to the brim, brushing your g-spot as he tossed his head back in pleasure.
“F-fuck-” you whimpered, almost unable to speak with how sudden the stretch was. It sent fire coursing through your veins, an adrenaline rush bringing you back to when you were in his arms on the rooftop.
“Fuck is right, Jesus Christ you feel so good. So fuckin tight.” he moaned, slowly sliding out of you, feeling your juices coat the base of his cock as he thrust into you hard enough to send your body jolting before he steadied you.
A new body had entered the room, his presence searing and as hot as embers. Little moans escaped your mouth as you stared at Matt, mouth agape, eyes wide as Peter hammered into you.
“In my bed? Really?” he smirked, and you followed his happy trail down to where his large, veiny hand palmed himself as he heard your heartbeat skip a beat.
“Well someone’s happy to see me. Hmm kitty?”
You moaned, hiccuping on your spit and drool as Peter’s thrusts became more erratic. By the way he was handling you, you knew he didn’t care how quickly you came.
He was using you as a toy, a means to get off. That turned you on even more.
“You’ll get your turn with her after Matty. We talked about this.” he mused, watching your breasts bounce from his harsh manhandling.
“Oh, I know. It’s only fair, isn't it kitty?”
“Y-yeah.” you choked out, Matt’s fingers reaching out to wipe the drool that had dribbled from your lips, swirling his tongue around the coated digit and releasing it with a pop.
“She’s already going dumb. Like a bitch in heat.” Peter smiled, him and Matt holding you steady as your body instinctively attempted to wiggle away from the intense waves of overstimulation, his moans ringing out throughout the room as he came in you with a grunt.
“She just needs to be bred.” Matt smiled, tugging off his boxers and your eyes nearly rolled at the sight.
This was addicting. The way they were making you feel, the way they spoke to you as if you were just a toy for their pleasure. But that's what you liked. Which made it so you knew it would be even harder to avoid this scenario again. It was like a drug.
His hand gripped your chin, forcing your gaze on his as Peter slid out of you, cum oozing out all over your puffy, swollen cunt as you whined from the abrupt emptiness.
“Shhh. You’re fine.”
Your body was limp as Matt took over, flipping you on your stomach, knees bent with your ass in the air. Kisses trailed down your spine, thin tanktop slung somewhere in the room.
You didn’t know. You didn't care.
All you cared about was the way he handled you, so gentle compared to Peter. But you knew he’d get rough soon.
“S’too much-” you mumbled sleepy against the sheets, feeling spent.
“She's spent. Fuckin whore is cockdrunk.” Peter smirked, shrugging on a t-shirt as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.
It felt dirtier with him watching in a way, knowing his eyes would linger on you in your most vulnerable state.
“But she had so much backtalk with us these past few weeks. What happened to that now angel?” Matt asked mockingly as he slid back in you, stuffing Peter's cum back into your abused hole again.
“Mhm-” you moaned, fisting the sheets as he entered you. He was more patient than Peter, slowly filling you instead of slamming to the hilt- but the stretch was just as delicious.
“M’so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” you mindlessly babbled- for what you didn't know. You just wanted to be good, to make them happy, and to please them. If that meant shattering your ego, then so be it.
“Silly girl.” Matt provoked, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he started to use you as he saw fit. You sunk your head deeper into the pillows, tears starting to stream down your cheeks from the sensitivity.
“M’gonna cum-” you hiccupped cautiously, seeing as Matt’s pace was not stopping for anything, or anyone.
“Yeah? Go ahead baby. I’ll let you, since Parker was being so cruel.”
“She was being a tease. She had to learn a lesson.” Peter mused, teeth digging into his lower lip as he watched where you and Matt connected, knowing his cum was being shoved further into you.
“But she’s such a sweet girl. Deep down, you just wanna please us, don’t you baby? Your little demeanor doesn't fool us.”
You felt your brain go fuzzy, his voice sounding distant as you came around his cock with a high pitched whine.
“Atta girl kitty.” Peter called, creaming Matt’s cock as he stilled, filling you up just the same. His grunts were like music to your ears, following you as you came down from the little cloud you were perched on.
“So good baby. Just stay put, yeah?” Matt murmured, and you didn’t even have the strength to nod as he slowly inched his way out of you, both of their cum now slowly spilling out of you as your legs twitched and quivered.
You couldn't move even if you wanted to. Your body felt like jello, and you felt your lower half slowly slide down onto the bed as you whimpered.
“Hurts s’bad.” you groaned, Peter's hand finding its way to stroke your cheek bringing you some form of comfort as you heard Matt start to run the tap, warm water spewing out onto a clean washcloth.
“I know kitty. But you did so good for us. It’s okay, just go back to sleep yeah?”
You nodded, eyes starting to droop as you clung to consciousness.
“I fucked her better you know.” Peter called, making Matt scoff as he returned with the damp fabric in hand.
“Yeah right. Older men just do it better Parker.” he shrugged, and you almost wanted to deride them. They were bickering like children and if you were in the position to bicker back- you would.
The feeling of the cloth against you made you jolt, and Peter reached out to steady you, rubbing small soothing circles on your back as Matt cleaned you.
It was strange and unfamiliar, the kindness and soothing physical contact the men were showing you. You bathed in it, scared it would all slip away like sand when the after-orgasm haze wore off.
“I’m sure Murdock. But who got to have her first?”
“Because she was sleeping right next to you! In my bed, may I add.”
You rolled your eyes, their endless arguing lingering over to the kitchen as you clung to the warm blankets that smelt of them.
It was going to be a long day indeed.
1K notes · View notes
1ovewoo · 9 months
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bubbly - jung wooyoung ♡
cw/tags: fem reader, hot tub sex, dry humping, clothed sex (?) bc they're in swimsuits lol, semi-public sex, making out, nipple play
note: something possessed me and when i regained consciousness i had this. idk i was just thinking abt how i've read a few pool sex fics w san but i personally have never seen an wooyoung one so i did pool sex but BETTER aka hot tub sex<3 hope u enjoy
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the warm bubbles soothe your tired muscles as you slide into the hot tub, letting the jets massage your back and legs as your eyes fall shut in relaxation.
wooyoung stands on the edge and admires the way the soft blue lights illuminate you in the otherwise dim light of the hotel rooftop, an even prettier view than the city skyline behind you, in his opinion, before he slips into the water alongside you.
you open your eyes and grin at him, sidling over and tossing a leg over his lap to straddle him, grabbing his face and pulling him in for a passionate kiss.
his hands smooth down your back to grip your hips, encouraging you to grind against him as your tongues intertwine and your body temperatures rise even more, steam from the water rising around your bodies into the night air, the only sounds being the bubbling of the jets, faint chatter and noise from the city far below, and the quiet sighs and moans that you each let out.
soon, the kiss grows more frantic, as do your thrusts as you grind harder against wooyoung’s aching cock through the thin layers of your swimsuits.
one of wooyoung’s hands slides around to crawl under your bikini top, palming your breast and teasing your nipple with little strokes of his thumb.
“you gonna cum for me, baby?” he murmurs against your lips
“mhm, close,” you whine, adjusting your position just right so that the tip of his cock catches against your clit on every glide of your hips.
your moans and cries become more desperate as you speed up your pace, racing towards your high, unable to even keep moving your lips and simply letting your mouth hang open, allowing wooyoung to lap at your tongue as your orgasm creeps up on you.
with a gentle pinch to your nipple and wooyoung sucking your bottom lip into his mouth to nip at it, you finally reach your climax and let out a string of moans and cries of your boyfriend’s name as waves of pleasure wash over you, continuing to move your hips in little circles, trying to draw out your high and also bring wooyoung to completion.
a few seconds later, wooyoung cums as well, groaning with his lips pressed to your cheek as he grips your hips with both hands and thrusts up against you a few times while he spills his load into his swim shorts and subsequently, the hot tub.
for a few moments the only sounds are those of your heavy breaths as the two of you come down, your head resting in the crook of wooyoung’s neck while his hands rub circles in your back.
you feel him place a soft kiss on the crown of your head and you can’t help but smile when he whispers a sweet “i love you” into the cool night air.
ty for reading! if you enjoyed this and would like to support my works please consider reblogging or checking out my masterlist!
© 1ovewoo 2023
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mayajadewrites · 3 months
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ghostin
matt murdock x reader
preface: reader is a vigilante, much like matthew murdock. they've developed a relationship and have fallen in love with one another. their future together was seemingly written in the stars - until the blip.
tags/warnings: 18+, established relationship, angst, no use of y/n, eventual sex
notes: i will be mentioning aspects of the main character that are more specific to her looks, but picture her as whoever you please :)
ao3
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The sounds of Hell's Kitchen filled Matt's apartment as you finally get out of bed for the day. People talking, car horns beeping, police sirens in the distance. It was a late night filled with vigilante escapades and sex with your boyfriend.
You sit up on the bed to stretch your sore muscles, feeling the aches of bruises from the past week on your skin. You heard Matt stir, a sign that he will be awake soon.
There's no point in trying to be quiet around him. He can hear your heartbeat from 5 blocks down.
"Good morning, sweetheart." You hear Matt's morning voice behind you. As you turn around, you marvel at the man that you share a bed with every night. His hazel eyes have a touch of sunlight in them, the green popping ahainst his tired eyes.
"Good morning Matthew." You press your lips to his pillow soft ones, a place you have grown fond of. His lips had to have been sculpted by the Gods. His face is a Renaissance painting. Only you get to feel it with your fingertips.
"You must've slept well. You added the good in 'good morning'." Matt brought his hand to the side of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
"Ever since I started staying with you, I've slept so much better." You close your eyes and lean your cheek into his palm.
Before Matt, you were a vigilante that was frequently hired by people like Wilson Fisk to take out any enemies, or potential enemies.
The first time you met you were assigned to take out Daredevil. Obviously, that's not an easy task. But you needed the money.
The night was cold, your skin filled with goosebumps as you jumped from rooftop to rooftop. You would hear steps, but never saw him.
Until he striked.
Fisk wanted Daredevil gone, but he is a force to be messed with. You kept running into him, but never having the guts to take him out, and he felt the same as you.
You didn't know he was Matt Murdock until a few months after your first encounter. You were jaded from your past, as was he. Learning to trust does not come easy to either of you.
"Baby, come back to bed." Matt almost whined, his large hands grasping yours to pull you down to him.
"Fine, 5 minutes." You eliminate any space between your bodies and allow your lips to find his.
"Make that forever." Matt smirked against your lips.
"You're impossible." You feel Matt's tongue snake into your mouth, doing a dance you are all too familiar with.
The first time you and Matt had sex there was undeniable lust, love, and magic in the air. You both avoided your attraction to each other for so long. At the end of the day, the only people that didn't want to admit that you two were made for each other was you and Matt.
"I can't deny you anymore." Matt said helplessly. "Everything about you is everything I want in my life. Everything you are, I, I-"
You stare at his face as he speaks, his eyes moving to different spaces in the room with every word.
"I can't stay away from you. No matter how much you may want me to, or the world may want me to, I can't." Matt's tongue grazed his lower lip. "I want to fall asleep next to you. I want to wake up next to you. I want to share my coffee with you, even though you're psychotic and drink iced coffee regardless of the temperature outside. So you wouldn't want any of mine anyways. But I want to have the chance to share it with you."
"Matthew, are you going to let me speak?" You uncross your arms from your chest. "I wouldn't mind hearing your little speech for awhile though."
"Go ahead." Matt cleared his throat.
"I want you too." You take a step closer to Matt, taking a closer look at the bruises that mark his skin. "I want to learn how to play poole for you. I want to sit on your rooftop and take in the sounds and smells of New York with you. I want to kiss your lips first thing and the morning even though you probably have nasty morning breath."
"Aren't you just a romantic." Matt followed your lead and took a step closer to you. "Tell me to stop." He took another step towards you.
Silence.
Then another step.
And another.
And another.
Matt was now in front of you, his nose grazing yours, his hands hovering over you. "Tell me to stop."
You stare at him, silent.
His hands pressed against your hips, dragging along your curves until he grips your ass. His forehead presses to yours, like the world was finally aligned.
Matt's lips found yours, moving slowly and deliberately. His mouth was starved from yours for so long that he wanted to savor this moment. He palmed your ass gently as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, pushing your body against his once more.
"You are addicting." Matt broke the kiss briefly. He lifted you from your hips to wrap your legs around his waist, kissing you as he brought you to his bedroom where you would spend hours in the sheets.
"I'm gonna brew your coffee, baby." You plant a kiss on Matt's lips, his palm on the back of your head as you pull away. The pad of his thumb stroked your hair as you pulled away. "You never make getting out of bed easy."
"I never will."
As you brew Matt's coffee, you go through the mental checklist of what needs to be done for today. Grocery shopping, a jog through the park, and to clean Matt's apartment.
You pour the hot liquid into Matt's favorite mug - it's nothing special, but it's big enough for two cups of coffee so he loves it.
You pour a splash of creamer into the cup, stirring it with a spoon. You smile at your reflection in the liquid, unsure of how you were so lucky to live this life with Matthew.
"Be careful, it's hot-" You look up from the mug to see the bed empty.
You didn't hear Matt move from the bed. The bathroom door was never opened. You could still see the silhouette of his body tangled in the sheets.
"Matt?!" You said loudly. "This isn't funny." You opened the closet door, then the bathroom.
Nothing.
You hear people outside screaming.
"She was just here!! Where the hell did she go? She just... dusted away." You heard someone say outside the window.
"I was just talking to him and then he was evaporating before my eyes." Another worried voice screams.
Your heart fell to your stomach. You run to the bed, running your hand over where Matt's body just was.
It was still warm.
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si11yw0rm · 5 months
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ghost drabbles #1 (words)
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blurb: ghost and you have had a complicated relationship. but one night in the kitchen changes everything between the two of you.
tags: gender-neutral reader, dirty talk, use of doll, baby, and love, dual switching (you would understand when you see it)
wordcount: 2k+
note: worm is tired. if you see this, please make them smile by leaving comments about what you thought. (please, i am typing this from a hospital bed, anything but the doctors saying bs would make me happy)
but i do wanna finish the Kinktober fics and reedit them and probably put out a part two to this, we would see. until we meet again, i shall slink back to my cave.
mdni x fic under the cut.
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Ghost was not a very vocal man. Everyone on the base knew that. You knew how silent he could be, even better than anyone else. He had made sure of that.
You stirred the cup of hot chocolate, shaking your head a little. It was one of the reasons you were instantly drawn to him. You were a fan of silence, just like he was. 
Sometimes, words weren't necessary.
Your relationship with Ghost was a tricky one.
When Captain Price introduced you to the crew the first time you had landed on base, you knew he didn't like you straightaway.
For someone so silent, his eyes could be widely expressive. 
Ghost never sought you out, and you respected his wishes and kept out of his way.
And it worked until that one night.
The single night that changed you both forever.
 The roof was open to anyone, but for some weird reason, you didn't expect Ghost to be the person to climb up your spot and find you that night.  
You knew he was surprised to find you there staring at the stars because even in the darkness of that night, you could see his hesitation.  
But he had stayed, and it was a silent agreement that it would be routine. 
And it was. 
Except for where you both went on missions and Price took the team out for drinks, your two souls always found yourselves on the roof every night. 
Not saying anything. 
Just breathing and existing in the same space. 
Till you broke the silence one night, and by some miraculous intervention, he had answered. 
You knew it wasn't right. 
Sneaking behind the other members' backs. Especially Price. 
But for some reason, you couldn't care. 
And you knew the Lieutenant didn't either. 
You nearly spilt the beverage over your fingers as you remembered how he had stared at you last night, his eyes saying everything and nothing all at once.
You knew it was cowardly to avoid going to the rooftop tonight, but you couldn't see yourself facing him. 
Then you heard a cough.
It was unmistakably him. 
You weren't surprised you hadn't heard him moving, but as you turned around, you froze when you saw him standing in the doorway.
Ghost couldn't believe his luck. When he hadn't seen you tonight, he had nearly pulled his gun on himself. 
But here you were, standing directly in front of him, looking like his every fantasy just come to life, and he just knew.
He had to get the words out. He had to. 
They were clawing at his throat. 
He could practically feel them burning a hole in his chest. 
He cleared his throat, grabbing the bottom of his mask, and tugged it downwards before stepping closer. 
You looked so sad and heartbroken that he could feel his cold heart moving around funny in his chest.
"I lied." It was a stupid way to start, and he knew it. 
Your eyes narrowed, and he could see the anger simmering in them.
You had every right to be angry. 
And fuck, if he didn't want to fuck it out of you.  
"What?" You hissed the word out, folding your arms, and fuck him, but he couldn't stop his hands from dropping to your chest. 
You didn't look at him as you hissed again, grabbing the cup off the counter. He could bet that you wanted to dunk it over his head.
"What do you mean you lied, Riley?" 
He knew you were mad when you called him that. 
He was always Lieutenant. 
You always called him that during your missions together over the comms. 
Fuck, now that he thought of it, you mostly referred to him as lieutenant. 
And he knew it was most definitely out of necessity.
But on the rarest occasions that you were happy with him, you called him Simon, and he let you. 
Because he had never met anyone that captivated him as much as you did. 
So yes, in hindsight, you should be mad.
Because it was one of your rules. 
Never lie. 
Lie to everyone but each other.
But Christ, he was a sick bastard because as he looked at you now, he finally understood what Price meant by you being a force of nature.
He was in awe of you. 
Which also terrified the hell out of him too.
His brain reminded him that he had said that before, but he couldn't find it in him to begin to actually care. 
"I lied. When you asked me if I thought about you." 
Oh, he did.
In the nights when you both denied yourself what could be the most divine bliss.
He did. 
During breakfast.
During lunch.
During dinner. 
And after your rooftop nights, when he was alone in his dorm, that was when he couldn't help himself.
He was in over his head. 
So much so it was both fascinating and terrifying. You should be scared of what he could do to you if you just gave him your consent. 
Your jaw dropped, and your eyes got that hazy look in them. 
The look you always had when your mind went south. Ghost knew you didn't realize it, but he could always read you like a book.
A book he was becoming fast obsessed with.
"So you think about me?" Your voice was hesitant, and he nearly laughed. 
You couldn't be that clueless, considering everyone on base already knew he more than liked you.
He released his breath through his teeth, shaking his head. "You have no idea, love." 
He knew what you were going to say before you even said it.
"Tell me. Let me in, Simon. Please." 
His head lifted, and he saw the pleading in your eyes. He hissed through his teeth, holding his head in his hands. 
He couldn't bear to look at you. He knew you liked it the way he did. 
So what was holding him back?
You sighed, and Ghost could hear that telltale disappointment lining your voice.
The unspoken one you had every time he couldn't voice out his emotions. 
You shook your head slowly and shook your head, holding your cup to your chest before dropping back on the counter. "It's okay, Ghost." 
But Ghost couldn't let you leave without telling you. 
He grabbed your arm and tugged you around until you were staring at him, your eyes both sad and understanding. It tore a hole through him.
His hands slid up your arm, coming to rest on your cheek. Even through the glove he was wearing, you could feel his hand burning against your skin. 
He leaned closer, his lips brushing your neck as his hand dropped from your cheek to slip around your waist. 
"I...I want you. I think about you." His voice was uncertain at first, but the conviction in them had you freezing.
"Every hour. Every minute. Every day. God, love. You have me burning me up inside." 
You felt your breath shudder through your lungs, and Ghost leaned away, staring at your lips. He was staring at them like he suddenly wanted to put something inside. 
"I...I think about you. On your knees. In my bed. Everywhere." You couldn't control how fast your breath was coming out of your lungs like you weren't getting enough air in your lungs.
You knew what it meant. The exact cause of your reaction came from childhood trauma you refused to unpack. But you saw the precise minute that Ghost's eyes widened with realization. 
Ghost couldn't believe his luck. His little brat was a word slut.
You, who blushed and shied away from looking anyone in the eye during briefings, loved someone looking at you and talking you through it. 
And knowing it had the knot in his tongue loosening. 
He stepped closer, pinning you against the counter, his hands resting on the counter behind you.
"I think of touching you under the table, especially when we have briefings together."
What was it with him and your briefings? God, he was so far gone. 
He had always wondered why Price gave him an unreadable look after briefings, but now he understood. 
He must have been staring.
His hands left the counter, coming under your thighs to grab you off the ground and drop you on the counter, his hands shifting to spread your thighs apart. 
"I think of grabbing you by the throat and giving you something to choke on. I think of spreading your thighs apart and fucking drowning you, baby. You have no idea."
You weren't sure if you were still breathing normally, and you could feel your head swimming. Somehow, the look of pure desire burning in his eyes was just as dangerous as his words.
Because this was Simon.
"And I think of you blowing me while you are under my table, and it's our little secret." 
His hands slid up your jaw, and his thumb parted your lips, sliding inside your mouth. You didn't think twice before wrapping your lips around it.
Ghost smiled. "You know when you walked into my office that night to grab the files Price asked about?" 
You nodded, and when your eyes shuttered, Ghost knew you hadn't realized that you were purring softly. 
"Afterwards, my office smelt like you so much I was sure I had nearly gone mad." 
"You hide your feelings well." You whispered, your lips still around his thumb. Your eyes were half closed, and you were practically resting your cheek on his palm.
"I was scared."
Your eyes snapped open, and you blinked slowly, smiling at him. "Are you scared now?"
"Yes." He decided to keep it short.
You let go of his thumb, pulling him closer by wrapping your legs around his hips. He stalled himself from connecting your groins together by slamming his hand on the counter.
You smiled, and Ghost knew whatever you had planned was going to be the death of him. 
"That undercover party that Price sent us on. The one where I wore the bunny outfit. You seemed pissed after Soap made a barrack bunny joke. What were you thinking?"
He wanted to say he didn't know what the fuck you were talking about, but he did. 
It was one of the nights he couldn't stop replaying in his head.
"You mean the night where you kept talking sass and outrightly disobeyed me? And then got yourself in trouble. Like I fucking warned you it would? Is that the night you are talking about, doll?" 
You opened your mouth to talk, but Ghost suddenly had a lot to say and it was all coming out.
"God, when you bent over answering that man. It was all I could think about. Spanking you. You were literally begging for it, doll." 
"Wha-What?"
"It made me a sick and twisted man, but Jesus. I wanted to spank your ass red for letting him touch you."
"Oh yeah? You are fucking hypocrite, Ghost. Because you ran out like you couldn't wait to move away from me fast enough." 
Ghost knew you well enough to know you were teasing. You were poking him. Seeing how far you could take him before he snapped, but lucky for you, he was feeling generous.
"Say what you want, baby." 
"Touch me. Like you do in your thoughts. Just once. I need in, Simon. Please."
The Simon was his kryptonite.
He laughed, pushing you back against the counter as his hands dipped down your stomach, lifting your shirt enough to expose your belly.
You held your breath as his hands dipped lower, and he tsked, his fingers brushing against you so suddenly that your back arched off the counter.
What was it about him that made you feel things so intensely?
"You are such a little whore, baby. Look at you. Dripping. And I haven't even touched you yet." 
His hand came up to cover your eyes, and you heard rustling before you finally felt his breath ghost your nose. 
He had taken off his mask.
"Simon..."
His lips nuzzled your nose before kissing a path down your jaw, deliberately avoiding your lips. "Keep saying my name, baby."
His fingers were sliding up your waist, inching your shirt higher, and coming to rest directly under your nipple.
"Simon..."
"That's it. Who's touching you?" His voice had gotten so rough and deep it was like it was vibrating through you, leaving you wrung out and breathless with desire. 
"Simon is."
"That's right, baby." His hand lifted off your eyes suddenly, and you saw a flash of a sharp jawline before he yanked your shirt so far up that he could pull it over your head.
"Can you breathe through the cotton?" You saw his silhouette hovering over you, but you could barely make out his features. You also noticed that he had only pulled the mask halfway up his face.
"Yeah." 
"Perfect, baby. Now, try not to scream."
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connorboyyy · 1 month
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💙✨ Hank appreciation post ✨💙
One of my favorite things in the world is protective Hank—I eat that shit up breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, and desserts baby. It’s a tag in every one of my fics and it always will be. And the best part? It’s canon
Hank is NATURALLY protective ‼️ He makes Connor stay behind him anytime they go headfirst into something that could be dangerous—he makes the android who can (in many cases) survive a gunshot stay behind him when they walk into danger ??????????
He turns Connor away when Kamski is being a creep ??????
He stops the android designed to accomplish the mission anytime he’s about to do something dangerous to accomplish said mission (i.e., the roadway and the rooftop)
And the scene near the end when he tries to intercept the gun the SECOND Connor’s clone turns it towards Connor—ARE YOU KIDDING ME ⁉️
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