#face x murdock
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chiosblog · 1 year ago
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Can someone explain to me why Face need to be so ridiculously close to Murdock in every single episode?
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Well I know why but this is some serious fruity territory pal
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imjuststiney · 5 months ago
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I DID NOT EXPECT...
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TO BE BACK ON MY A-TEAM BULLSHIT IN THE YEAR 2024. BUT HERE WE ARE!
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sugashook · 25 days ago
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doodle because rivals punisher
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pastaxandria · 2 years ago
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The Red Thread: Chapter 153
The Library of Pastaxandria has recorded for its shelves: Chapter 153 of The Red Thread.
Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Chapter Summary:
“Then explain it again to me,” he whispered hotly, his nose brushing against your temple. “Before I track Eli down and break his jaw for putting his head between your legs.”
“The explanation is our ladder sucks donkey balls.”
Or: in which you and the Devil have a discussion, Matt has a realization, and every last criminal decides that tonight's really not the night to test the Devil's patience and maybe they should just take a vacation.
Wordcount: 7.7k
Warnings for this chapter: a heavy makeout session, some filthy language from Matt over what he wants to do to you the second you’re head’s no longer concussed, scent marking.
Read me on AO3 because that’s where penguins hang out
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pastafossa · 2 years ago
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Hey Pasta! It turns out I'm addicted to drawing Jane and Matt so here they are taking a little stroll and having a chat. I thought it was cute and wanted to share!
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WAIT I LOVE THIS THOUGH????? I LOVE THIS I LOVE IT I LOVE IT
I
LOVE
IT
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SO LET'S FUCKING TALK OK
Matt's grey suit? CHECK i love his suits leave me alone BUT I also love the little touch here like the WAY he's holding his cane, I've seen him hold it like this sometimes. My theory is it's when he's comfortable while moving and doesn't need a super tight grip on it cause he has a general idea of what's around or he has a good guide (AND JANE IS HERE SO IT FITS), and I have zero idea if this is the right reasoning, but either way you've got it drawn in here and that was a lovely touch.
Do I dare talk about his perma-stubble???? HIS HAIR??? HIS SMILE AND THE HAPPY BODY LANGUAGE i'm hopeless help me
I think his suit makes a good contrast to Jane here too which i LOVE, LOOK AT THOSE CONVERSE, hair down and relaxed and casual. As much as we see it in TRT (simply because that's where the plot leads), her getting to relax and just have a fun walk and be casual is not something she gets to do often. She's incredibly professional looking when meeting clients and then she's usually wearing cheaper, easy-to-dirty-up clothes when tracking in case she needs to crawl into down a grate cause half the time she's gotta chuck those clothes out. I genuinely enjoy seeing her like this in art, seeing her relaxed in clothes she might actually ENJOY wearing as opposed to necessity, seeing her happy and just chilling and getting a slice of Something Normal, especially with Matt who's kinda in the same boat (not style wise but just in Happy Normal Things territory).
AND HER KEY IS THERE
JUST
LOOK AT THEM SO HAPPY
MY BABIES 😭
Thank you thank you THANK YOU for coming to show me this! I LOVE IT SO MUCH
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ezra-the · 2 years ago
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I’ve decided I want to write x readers so pls read requirements before you request
Will-
Smut
Fluff
Other stuff idk
Maybe -
Abuse
Suicide
Sexual Assult
Dub Con
Won’t -
Rape /Non con
Maybe more idk depends
What I’ll write for
Marvel
Daredevil/Punisher
Criminal Minds
Sally face
Idrk what else pls just ask and I’ll tell you if I can do it or not
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A-Team Incorrect Quotes
Murdock, watching Face stare at Amy: Wouldn't it be easier to just write 'I'm desperate' on your forehead?
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avengerstower-houseplant · 1 year ago
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It had been a bad night, and Matt’s inherent Catholic guilt was at an all time high. So, he positioned himself exactly where he thought he belonged.
On his knees.
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Don’t mind me, I’ll just wilt in the corner… because holy fuck, Court. I have no idea how I am supposed to function after reading this, but this is one of those times where I am so fucking thankful that I have somewhat of a poker face when reading smut in public. Albeit you always seem to try and get that to crack, but goddamn it…
If Matt needs a volunteer for his next trick, count me right the fuck in because I just need that and it’s the perfect stress buster for finals season. So… you know… 😳🙋‍♀️
taste
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pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader
summary: matt just wants a taste.
warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
a/n: it’s thanksgiving here today, and despite my mixed feelings about this holiday, I am thankful for all of y’all. so, here’s a little treat from me to you bc I haven’t shown our favorite human disaster some love in awhile. 🖤
word count: 1.1k
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Matt lost track of how long he’d had his head buried between your thighs. Your hair was still damp from your shower earlier, fresh notes of citrus and green apple lingering on the silk sheets. That coupled with the crisp sandalwood of his own cologne from the worn Columbia shirt of his you had stolen to bed intertwined with your own distinct scent lit a fire of desire within him. He’d discarded a layer of his black suit with every silent step he took descending the staircase that led up to the rooftop door.
It had been a bad night, and Matt’s inherent Catholic guilt was at an all time high. So, he positioned himself exactly where he thought he belonged.
On his knees.
Matt held your soft thighs in his rough, calloused hands, his warm tongue lazily tumbling over your swollen clit over and over again. He slipped his tongue through your soaked folds much like he had the first time he had really kissed you; when a sweet kiss good night had ended with your back firmly pressed up against your front door and the two of you panting into each other's mouths.
Angelic pleas for mercy had sounded from your lips in various intervals, but your greedy fingers continued to tug him just a little closer by tight grips on his chestnut strands. Neither one of you seemed to be able to quit the other. Matt’s nose was nuzzled against your public bone, and his plump lips were wrapped around your clit, alternating between suckling languidly at a pace that made your eyes roll into the back of your head and dragging his tongue up and down the length of your entire pussy meticulously.
Every time you let out a desperate chant of his name and rolled your hips up in a needy way in search of more, Matt groaned loudly and moved his own hips in tandem. He had been rutting against the mattress for God only knows how long now, the front of his briefs completely soaked from the weeping slit on the head of his throbbing cock. He’d never been so painfully hard in his life.
But Matt didn’t feel like he had earned a release yet.
Despite the several tangy coats of your arousal on his tongue, he wanted more. He needed just a little more.
Just one more, he told himself, then he’d finally let himself fuck you. But right now, he was exactly where he wanted to be. Face nestled against your pussy, feeling your heartbeat pounding against his welcoming tongue, smelling the scent that was uniquely you right under his nose, hearing the verbal reassurances of how much you needed him, and how badly you wanted him.
Praises of his name and confessions of love slowly lifted the self imposed weight that laid heavy on his chest like cement. If an angel like you believed the Devil deserved Heaven, then maybe he did. You didn’t ask for his penance, but he wanted to give it. He wanted to be worthy of being the man you made him feel like he was.
Matt ignored the ache in his jaw, and he whimpered against your core as his briefs snagged against the sensitive head of his cock just right. He wasn’t gonna last long. Not with the heavenly aroma of you surrounding his senses completely, the sweet sound of your pleasure hitting his ears, the thrum of your impending climax thundering against his tongue.
He never wanted to come up for air. If this was how he was going to die, drowning in the tidal wave of your gratification, then he’d die a happy man.
Matt used his index and middle finger to spread your slicked pussy apart, eagerly swirling his tongue around your pulsing nub before switching to flicking the tip of his tongue back and forth across it like a metronome. God, you were so warm and soft, and so fucking wet. He couldn’t tell where his saliva ended and where your own essence started, but he didn’t fucking care. The only taste he wanted seared into his taste buds was yours anyway.
He delved his tongue as deep within your cunt as he could, fucking you with it sensually while his nose bumped against your overstimulated clit repeatedly. You were close again. He could tell by the hitch in your breaths and the quiver in your soft thighs that were enclosed tightly around his head.
Matt never felt like he deserved you, so he made it his personal mission to make sure he earned you.
As soon as another wave of your candied tang drenched his mouth and dripped down his stubbled chin, Matt exploded with a pathetic whimper, feeling his own sticky warmth coating his lower abdomen and the tops of his thighs. The only reason he pulled his face away from your cunt was because you weakly pushed at his shoulders with your trembling hands.
“Fuckfuckfuck…Matty…I can’t. I-God, I need a minute-“
The breathless pants sounding from your lips were an elegant symphony to his ears. He closed his eyes while resting his head on your smooth thigh, trying to catch his own breath. For several minutes neither of you said anything, just laid there tangled up in the sheets together, basking in the afterglow of pleasure.
All of a sudden, Matt sensed a shift in you. He heard your eyes flutter open, and felt the way you shifted your head off the pillow to peer down at him in curiosity.
“Matty…did…did you-“
“Yeah.”
He didn’t bother hiding it. He wasn’t ashamed. He’d be pissed when the cloud of lust currently fogging up his brain eventually cleared and he realized he ruined yet another set of silk sheets, but right now, he was too satisfied to give a shit about anything other than this moment with you.
A melodic giggle immediately erupted from your chest, and Matt squeezed your thigh teasingly in retaliation which caused you to squeal.
“Hey! I wasn’t making fun of you. It’s actually quite flattering that you enjoy having your head between my thighs so much that you can come from that alone.”
“Sweetheart, you could make me come just by reading our grocery list.”
Another round of angelic giggles fell from your lips, and a quiet whine of disapproval sounded from Matt when he felt you shifting in bed. Much to his dismay, you moved your soft and warm thigh away from under his head, which caused him to purse his plush lips in a pout. But before he could even protest, you were gently pushing him onto his back and brushing your lips against the shell of his ear.
“Maybe I’ll test that theory later, but right now, I’d rather make you come with my mouth in a different way.”
tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @avengerstower-houseplant @mars-rants-a-lot @topperthornton @hailey-murdock @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @thyme-in-a-bubble @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts
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chiosblog · 1 year ago
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cuddles
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imjuststiney · 4 months ago
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I can’t believe I’m actually writing the ending of The Slay Team.
It’s only taken 12 years since I started the fic in the first place.
If there’s anyone out there still waiting to read it, hopefully it won’t disappoint. 💜
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bellaxgiornata · 5 months ago
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Catcalling the Devil
Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings/tags: drunk Reader, humor, terrible flirtatious comments, and lots of appreciation for the Ass of Hell's Kitchen
Summary: A night out takes an amusing turn when you accidentally and drunkenly catcall the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.
a/n: This little one shot is brought to you thanks to the Murdock Tuna Team who not only inspired the idea, but helped create some of the flirtatious banter. I just couldn't resist the idea of catcalling the Devil in the black suit, okay? Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
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Pushing open the door of Alchemy, you stepped outside and onto the sidewalk. The sweltering heat of Hell’s Kitchen greeted you, the humidity mixing with the sticky sweat already coating your skin and adding another uncomfortable layer of dampness. But it still felt far more refreshing outside in the humid evening air than it did inside the busy bar with countless other sweaty bodies packed together. The usual buzz of the city at night was even welcoming in comparison to the loud music that had been steadily aggravating the pounding in your head for the past twenty minutes. 
Walking unsteadily in your heels, you turned to the right and made your way over towards the corner of the building and away from Alchemy's main doors and thumping music. One of your hands reached up as you stumble-walked, grabbing at the neck of your dress and peeling it off of your wet skin to allow some air to flow inside and cool your heated body. You’d spent a good portion of your evening drunkenly dancing with your friends as you celebrated Elise’s birthday tonight, which was why you'd decided to wait for your Uber outside of the bar–so you could catch your breath before heading home. 
As you neared the alley, your ankle unexpectedly twisted when your heel caught in a crack along the sidewalk. A surprised gasp slipped past your lips as you began falling forward face-first towards the pavement. Your hand released the neck of your dress and instinctively flew out to your side, your palm landing against the brick of the building just in time to awkwardly catch yourself. Struggling to steady your inebriated self, you stayed bent in half as the pavement swirled beneath your black heels. 
Once the spinning had finally stopped, you threw your other hand out and began to desperately claw your way back upright with both hands along the brick. Limping forward, you leant up against the side of the bar and tried to ease the pressure off your now sore ankle. With a low groan you attempted to find a comfortable position against the brick, supporting your weight more fully along the wall and resigning yourself to waiting right here for your Uber. Internally you cursed yourself for wearing such tall heels and drinking as much as you had tonight��hopefully you hadn’t actually injured your ankle. You’d probably be regretting your decisions in the morning, especially since you still had to go into work. 
Reaching up, you ran the back of your hand across your forehead in an attempt to remove some of the sweat that had accumulated there. But just as you’d begun to lower your hand back to your side, movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. Your head turned in the direction of it, your vision spinning momentarily before everything came back into focus. Though the second your brain managed to make sense of the black blur on the rooftop, your mouth fell open. Because there on the roof just above you was the infamous Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 
“There’s no way I’m this drunk,” you muttered to yourself. 
You watched as the dark figure crouched down low on the corner of the building, his body hunched like a gargoyle overlooking the street below. He was only a few floors above you and seemingly searching for something with the way his head was scanning the street below as it moved back and forth in sharp movements. With his back turned towards you while he was lowered in a crouch, you had been left with a perfect view of his backside under the city lights. Whether it was due to how absolutely glorious the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen’s ass looked in his black pants while you were almost directly beneath him, or due to the handful of shots and cocktails you’d recently drank down, you’d suddenly loosed a long, low whistle out into the night.
Immediately the Devil’s head snapped over his shoulder the second you’d whistled. Eyes growing wide in shock, your body straightened against the wall behind you instantly. You hadn’t even realized you’d just catcalled the Devil until you’d actually done it. And now he was crouched atop the roof and staring right down at you.
For a long time you stood there locking eyes with the masked man–or so you assumed, considering you couldn’t see his eyes beneath the black on his face. Neither of you moved,  neither of you spoke, yet a tension had quickly formed in the air. 
Until a peel of laughter bubbled right up out of your mouth.
The Devil’s head tilted sharply to the side as the sound echoed through the alley beside you. You threw a hand up to cover your mouth, trying to stifle the noise, but somehow that only made you laugh harder. Because no one would believe you about this later. But your laughter fell short when the Devil rose to his full height on the rooftop, spinning around to face you with a fluid grace that had made your head spin in return. Biting down on your lip, you fought back another round of laughter as tears began to form in your eyes. You’d only managed to reduce your amusement at the situation to barely restrained giggles before he spoke.
“Something wrong?” the deep voice called out.
You shook your head quickly, the Devil briefly blurring into three Devils above you. Throwing your hand up into the air, you sent him a single thumb’s up. “No!” you answered, stifling another giggle. “Everything’s fine, Devil. Just–just appreciating the view.”
His head cocked to the side even further, the sight reminding you of a dog. Another giggle slipped out of you before you could stop it. Though you once more bit down on your lip when the vigilante began to expertly climb his way down the side of the building. Openly admiring his body as you readjusted your position against the wall–which was currently still single-handedly keeping you upright at the moment–you watched as he easily made his way from the roof to the alley. If it hadn’t been for the curious, pleased smile that was clearly spread across his lips when he came to stand just a few feet away, you might’ve felt nervous that he’d suddenly taken as much of an interest in you as you had in him. 
“Appreciating the view?” he asked.
“Yeah,” you replied. “Your ass.”
The Devil’s lips twitched at your bold honesty and you bit back another giggle. This whole situation was so unbelievable it was actually absurdly hilarious.
“So you’re saying that you interrupted me solely just to whistle at my ass?” the Devil inquired. “Did I hear that right?”
Pushing away from the wall, you stumbled forward a step, squaring your shoulders and looking him straight in the eyes–or where you thought they were. “Yeah. Couldn’t exactly resist,” you answered, your words slurring a bit as you spoke. “You’re carryin’ an entire bakery’s worth of devil’s food cake back there.”
You wildly waved a hand towards the Devil’s lower half, sloppily gesturing towards his ass. His head once more tilted curiously to the side, the grin on his lips growing even wider in clear amusement. 
“Devil’s food cake?” he questioned.
“Y’know,” you said, waggling your eyebrows suggestively at him. “‘Cause of all that–that cake you got back there. Wouldn’t mind a piece, personally.”
A huff of laughter slipped past the Devil’s lips and you brightened at the sound as it registered in your intoxicated ears. His positive reaction was only going to encourage you now.
“Are you… flirting with me?” he asked incredulously. “Because you do realize who I am, right?”
“Wouldn’t be the worst guy I’ve hit on tonight,” you replied with a shrug.
The Devil laughed, shaking his head as his attention dropped down towards his boots. A grin lingered along his lips, something almost bashful. But your focus openly shifted back down to the profile of his ass, your eyes appreciating the way the dark fabric stretched over him. 
“Y’know it’s my friend’s birthday tonight,” you told him, swaying unsteadily on the sidewalk. “Didn’t realize you were the one bringin’ the cake.”
A snort of laughter met your comment, your smile growing wide as you watched the Devil’s head rise back up. He was smirking now, something mischievous in the way his mouth had twisted beneath the hard line of his mask. 
Grinning back at him, your right hand cupped around your mouth as you leaned forward towards him. “But maybe you can let me blow out the candle,” you drunkenly half-whispered.
He shook his head at you, but the mischievous twist of his lips remained beneath the black fabric of his mask. “You're a bold drunk, aren't you?” he asked.
“Maybe,” you mumbled back, your eyes fixing along his lips. Without even thinking, you blurted next, “Wouldn’t mind climbing you like a building.”
Another surprised snort of amusement fell out of him as he shook his head at you once more. “You’re full of so many terrible lines,” he teased back with a chuckle. “You do realize that, right?”
“Oh I’ve got plenty more,” you assured him with a nod, exaggeratingly waving a dismissive hand in the air between you both. “Don’t you worry. Could totally do this all night.”
“Oh really?” he asked. “Is that right? Because I certainly can make time for this.”
Your hand stopped flapping in the air between you both, a single finger raising up. “Okay, wait,” you amended. “I have an Uber coming. So maybe not all night, but probably a few more minutes.”
“Mmm,” he hummed out, his smile briefly slipping. “Shame because this is turning out to be the most fun I’ve had so far in the mask.”
“Wanna make it more fun?” you asked, grinning suggestively at him.
The Devil’s bottom lip rolled between his teeth as he tried to bite back his growing smile. Something warm heated you, starting at the base of your skull and trickling down to your toes. Your eyes focused back on his mouth as your tongue slid out, licking your lips. You'd only been jokingly flirting, but now…
“Hate to be the voice of reason here,” the Devil began, “but I don't sleep with intoxicated women that I meet in alleys. I much prefer sober consent.”
“What a pity,” you mumbled, face contorting into a pout. “Never would've thought the Devil was a gentleman .”
“I'm full of surprises,” he teased.
You hummed thoughtfully in response, taking a step into the alley towards him and stumbling a little in your heels. Ignoring the growing throbbing of your ankle, you focused on the thrill of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen actually letting you flirt with him. You wanted to enjoy every minute of it, even if you probably wouldn't remember this moment too clearly in the morning.
“Anyone tell you you’ve got a pretty mouth?” you asked him. 
The Devil shook his head, his smile returning. “No. Can't say the criminals I meet are too fond of passing out compliments when I'm hitting them,” he replied.
“Well you do ,” you assured him. “You really, really do .” Eyes narrowing at the plush lips of his still quirked into a smile, you studied the shape of them amongst the faint bit of dark stubble. “Reminds me of my boss. Now that's a mouth I'd love to do things with,” you drunkenly confessed. “But see,” you continued, pointing a firm finger at the Devil’s chest, “ he’s an asshole. Not fun like you.” 
The Devil’s head tilted to the side again, his grin growing into a smirk. “Oh he is, is he?” he asked.
“Yes,” you answered. “Great ass, huge asshole. I’m–I’m sure there’s a stick shoved in there somewhere.”
The Devil barked out a laugh into the night as you reached into your purse and pulled out your phone. Squinting as the bright light assaulted your eyes, you saw that your Uber was mere minutes away. You loosed a disappointed sigh.
“Your ride almost here?” the Devil asked.
“Unfortunately,” you answered, returning your phone to your purse. “Unless you wanna be my ride tonight?”
Zipping your purse back up, you heard the Devil let out another laugh. Your smile grew along with your surprise at this whole interaction. You hadn’t anticipated just how fun the masked vigilante actually was considering how he spent his evenings. It was a shame you’d never meet him again.
“Have you fallen tonight?” the Devil asked, still grinning at you.
You held up a hand, preventing him from continuing his thought. “If you're about to ask if I fell from heaven,” you slurred, “then I'm disappointed in your lines, Devil man.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head and laughing softly. “I’m just concerned you might have a concussion because of your continued flirting with a known vigilante. You should probably get your head checked out.”
“ You can check me out,” you teased coyly, sending him an exaggerated wink.
The Devil’s mouth opened, about to reply, but then his face darted over your shoulder, the corner of his lip twitching. You frowned when he took a step back, aware the gesture meant this entire interaction was quickly coming to an end. You didn’t want it to.
“Think your ride’s about here, actually,” the Devil said, further backing up into the alley. “Seems this is where I say goodnight.”
“Oh c’mon, don’t go yet!” you begged his retreating form. “I didn’t get any devil’s food cake!” you called after him. “How ‘bout a piece to-go? Sharing is caring!”
But somehow the Devil had quickly disappeared into the darkened alley, the only proof of his presence the echo of his laughter bouncing off the brick walls. The sound sent a pleasant chill up your body, a smile still lingering along your lips as you teetered on the spot staring after him.
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The pounding in your head hit you almost immediately after the sound of your alarm hit your ears. Groaning miserably as your entire body protested waking, your hand blindly flew out from beneath the sheets and felt around for your phone. Opening your eyes, you immediately hissed in pain as the bright light in your bedroom burned them. You blinked rapidly, trying to push past the growing throbbing in your head in order to shut off your irritating alarm. 
Silence finally settling once more in your room, you tossed your phone back down onto your nightstand and rolled onto your side before immediately halting. A wave of nausea hit you instantly and you squeezed your eyes closed, hoping to fight the feeling back. You needed to get up and get ready for work. You had twenty minutes to wash up, brush your teeth, and throw on clothes before you had to be out the door or you'd be late, and you could only imagine how irate your one boss would be if you were. You didn’t have time to get sick.
After a few moments, you were grateful when the nausea subsided. Cautiously you tested things, slowly opening your eyes again before tentatively pushing yourself upright in bed. The pounding in your head continued to rage on, another pathetic groan slipping past your lips. Drinking like you'd done on a weeknight last night had been a horrible idea. Vaguely you recalled the evening in flashes–doing rounds of shots, dancing with your friends, flirting with some guy. Most of the night remained a blur, though.
Feeling half-alive, you climbed out of bed and focused on getting ready for work. You'd briefly washed off in the shower, scrubbing yourself just clean enough to remove the scent of alcohol that felt like it was seeping out from your pores. Then you brushed your teeth vigorously before swirling some mouthwash around in your mouth, the taste of which had you fighting bile once more back down. Then you threw on whatever clean blouse and slacks your hands touched first, shuffling through your apartment towards your shoes as you pulled your pants on.
It had ultimately taken you more than twenty minutes to get ready for work and to get out the door since you'd had to stop and brace yourself against a wall or piece of furniture multiple times–either due to the pain in your head or the roiling in your gut. Then you'd been in a hurry making your way out of your building and towards the office, the morning sun and the usual city traffic only further aggravating your headache. By the time you'd finally gotten to work, you were more than ten minutes late and out of breath. 
“I am–” you pushed open the door to the office, panting hard as you spotted one of your bosses leaning against your desk, “–so sorry. Was trying to get here on time but I went out last night. This morning was a struggle.”
“Well you're here now, at least,” Foggy said, glancing up from a paper in his hands at you. His brows creased together as he eyed you, his nose visibly scrunching in distaste. “Though you smell like you slept in a bathtub of liquor and you look like you woke up to fight a pissed off honey badger.”
You laughed lightly, the noise further irritating your head as you hurried over towards your desk before making your way around it. “Yeah. I'm aware,” you replied. “I'm sorry. My friend had a birthday last night and I went out to celebrate. I definitely drank too much and I completely regret it. I promise I learned my lesson.”
“Certainly not the best decision,” Foggy agreed. “But I'm glad to hear that. Maybe next time–”
“You're late.”
Your head darted over your shoulder at the sound of your other boss. Grimacing at the stern look on Matt’s face, your shoulders slumped as you set your bag down onto the top of your desk.  
“I know, I'm sorry, Mr. Murdock,” you apologized. “It was a one time thing, it won't happen again, I promise.”
“Good, it better not,” he said, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe to his office. The corner of his lip twitched upwards for a second before he raised his coffee cup to his mouth, hiding the smile threatening to spread onto his lips. “Fog's right though, you smell like you bathed in the alcohol instead of drinking it. Can you even remember your night out?”
Chewing your lip awkwardly, your brows furrowed as you tried to recall last night. Though the sight of Matt standing there casually leaning against the doorframe drinking his coffee, the buttons of his sage green dress shirt struggling as he did, was making it hard for you to focus.
“Uh, bits and pieces of it?” you answered. 
“Mmm,” he hummed out, lowering his coffee cup. “Well, hopefully your evening was worth showing up late for. I certainly enjoyed my night, though. Woke up in a good mood this morning, actually.”
Your eyes narrowed at the smile on his face, something tickling at the back of your mind at the sight of it. But Matt smiling instead of scolding you when you messed up was an unusual occurrence, one that had you hesitantly and distractedly lowering down into your desk chair. 
“Which is why I brought doughnuts for everyone this morning,” Matt continued, gesturing a hand towards your desk. “I hope you still have an appetite after all the alcohol.”
“They're so good,” Foggy told you. “They’re from that new bakery a block over.”
Foggy slid the white box you hadn’t noticed on your desk over towards you. You watched as he flipped the lid open, the strong and sweet aroma of sugar and chocolate hitting your nose. Your stomach rumbled hungrily as you eyed the delicious chocolate pastries.
“Since when do you bring in doughnuts?” you asked, glancing back over at Matt.
He pushed off the doorframe, shrugging his shoulder. “I don't know,” he said, a strange smile drawing itself wide across his lips. “For some reason I woke up with a craving for devil's food cake and I just thought I’d share.”
With a deep chuckle Matt turned around, making his way back into his office. Head tilting curiously to the side, your eyes lingered along his backside as that strange feeling of something trying to reach the forefront of your mind returned.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 3 months ago
Text
snow white
kinktober, day fifteen
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a/n: i really wanted to play around with a fairytale this kinktober season and i came up with maybe too many ideas for a bunch of different ones, but this one just stuck with me for months, so i had to go with this one.
summary: that was often how it was with your seven miners. In certain moments, they just became something else, something entirely different and much more ethereal than seven mortal men, but instead fused together into a sea of love that they let you float in. 
warnings: snow white!reader x various, dark!prince!billy russo, miners!steve rogers, bucky barnes, thor odinson, miguel o'hara, marc spector, matt murdock, frank castle, dark content, smut, fairytale retelling, innocent!reader, references to loss of virginity, arranged engagement, assassination attempt, violence, poison apple, kidnapping, somno, polyamory, reverse harem, time jump (for domestic and slutty purposes), kissing, fingering, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, overstimulation, oral, handjob, squirting, multiple orgasms, gangbang, penetrative sex, anal, double penetration, double penetration in one hole, unprotected sex, creampie, dark ending
word count: 6746
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2024
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Once upon a time, there lived a princess. 
You, to be exact. 
However, your day-to-day life, that wasn’t a part of you that one could define as something very regal, not lately, not since your father had died and left you in the hands of his late wife, a vain woman he had only married a short time prior to his passing. 
There wasn’t much you were allowed to do any longer as your stepmother was perhaps a bit too overprotective of you in her own cold way, even though many of the chores the sea of servants that buzzed within the castle took care of, that for some reason wasn’t off limits to you, if not encouraged by the queen. 
But it was all out of love, wasn’t it? 
“Oh, there you are!” your gaze fluttered up to find the prim and familiar figure stalking towards you in the gardens, “what in the world are you doing out by this ghastly old well?”
“Prince William,” you stiffened up slightly at his presence and swiftly did a curtsy, “w-what are you doing here?” 
“Ah, come on, Snow,” his palm brushed against the edge of the stone well, briefly cleaning it a bit before he leaned against it, “how many times do I have to tell you to call me Billy?” 
“Your Highness,” you swallowed nervously, “I’m just not sure that would be completely appropriate. You deserve to be paid with the utmost respect.” 
“Oh, I agree,” a sly smirk slithered across his chiselled features, “though, I do think my fiancé should be allowed just a little leniency.” 
“Oh,” you put on a smile for the royal, “you got engaged? Congratulations! Is it to someone I know?” 
“I’d sure hope so,” he grinned, and the next words that rolled off his tongue caused your face to drop, “it’s you.”
Blinking back at him, you couldn’t help but flinch as he stepped to get closer to you.
“…excuse me?” you breathed, your hand fluttering up to the neckline of your modest gown as you felt your heart begin to hammer in your chest.
“We’re to be married,” he caught your hand and kept on smiling, “I just sorted the last of the details out with your mother a few moments ago.” 
“Stepmother,” you corrected him hazily before uttering, “I–… how come I didn’t know about any of this? Why didn’t anyone think to ask me what I wanted?” 
Billy’s face then scrunched up at your question, as if it was the strangest of reactions to have at such news, “well you know now.” 
“That’s–,” you stared back at him, your eyes wide and horrified before you ripped your arm back out of his hold, “no.”
“What?” 
“No, I don’t wanna marry you,” the words flowed out of your lungs. 
But to your astonishment, the prince of the neighbouring kingdom then only chuckled, “what do you mean you don’t want to marry me? Of course you do, everyone does.”
“Well, I don’t.” 
Slowly, he seized your arm in a bruising grip before inching closer to you and leaning down to sternly whisper in your ear, “you better get rid of this attitude before you become my wife.”
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The following week when the queen suggested that you go for a walk through the nearby woods, an activity you’d formerly thought to be banned as all your previous pleas throughout the years had failed, you nearly stumbled as you rushed to accept the opportunity. 
Where this newfound kindness had come from that you had no clue of, though you weren’t going to argue now as the chains around you slowly began to slacken. 
The queen’s protective nature for you stayed fast however when she sent a guard to accompany you, though one you’d never encountered before as you spent so much time in the castle that you knew all of the others by name. Perhaps he was just new? 
Though when you eventually came upon a clearing and you decided to take a small break in that peaceful and serene glen, it all changed so quickly that you nearly got whiplash. 
One moment, you were grinning up at the treetops, whistling back to the birds building a nest up there, and the next, the guard shadowing you had raised a dagger up high and lunged it down upon you. Thankfully, luck was for once on your side and you managed to twist just enough for it to miss your sternum and instead slice through your sleeve and cut your shoulder. 
When you tried to run, a shrill scream erupting your frame, the knight caught your arm before you could manage to escape.
Though just as all hope seemed lost, when the dappled sunlight caught and reflected in the shiny blade as he rose it back up high, it never pierced your heart as a pickaxe instead suddenly appeared from out of nowhere, flying through the air and lodging itself right above the guard’s brow. 
He stayed standing for a second, blood trickling down his face, before the warrior’s body fell backwards and collapsed on the forest floor. 
Your frame shook like a leaf on the wind as you stood there, eyes wide with horror, watching his brain leak and stain the moss below your feet. 
“Are you alright, my lady?” a deep voice called from behind you, though it still took you a moment before you were able to rip yourself out of your petrified state. 
As you slowly twisted around, you saw seven men standing at the edge of the clearing, all of them except the blonde one in the middle with a pickaxe clutched in their hands. 
“Are you hurt?” the miner missing his tool spoke again, taking a ginger step closer. 
Still reeling, unable to fathom that you nearly just lost your life, you blinked, “I–… I–…” though just continued to stand there, frozen in the middle of the storm. 
“You’re bleeding,” a dark-haired man further down the line uttered before the muddled confusion that bloomed on your horrified features caused him to gently gestured to your arm and guide your gaze down to your shoulder. 
“O-oh…” you blinked back at the gash, though still couldn’t pierce through the fog to do anything more. As your glossy eyes flickered back up to gaze at your heroes, the woods around you began to spin as you then blubbered, “you saved me… I–… I–…” before the whole forest went black and you collapsed into a pair of quick arms. 
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“Wow, it’s alright,” a voice washed over you as soon as you came to, “you’re okay.”
After your eyes had found the source of the deep timbre, they then flickered around to take in the unfamiliar home you now found yourself in.
“Where am I?” you asked hesitantly as you sat up in the bed you’d been planted on. Looking around the space, it wasn’t the only one as the whole room was filled with enough sleeping arrangements for all of the strangers. 
“Don’t worry, you’re safe,” the long golden locks on the man sitting by your feet rustled slightly as he raised up both hands in a gesture of goodwill, “you’re in our home,” he informed you before his neck twisted and he shouted out the open bedroom door, “hey guys! She’s awake!”
As the rest of the men from the forest began to filter into the dormitory, your legs curled up beneath the blanket and you swiftly hugged your knees to your chest. 
“Hey, how are you feeling?” one of them asked in a careful tone. 
“I–…” you felt your heart thump in your chest as your wide eyes danced between the burly figures, “what do you–, w-why did you take me with you?” 
Taking a step forward, a dark-haired one said, “well, we couldn’t in good conscience just leave you back there and let you bleed next to your assassin,” he then tilted his head, “plus my healing supplies were all back here.” 
As you glanced down to discover your slashed sleeve cut off and missing with a bandage instead wrapped around the ghastly cut on your upper arm, you then blinked back up at the stranger and asked, “you’re a healer?”
“No, not really, I’m a miner, we all are,” he gestured to the others. 
“Yeah, we work in the mines out west on the other side of the village,” the one leaning against the doorframe shared. 
You faintly recalled the mines they spoke of, though you hadn’t been out there since you were a child, the memory however of the glimmering jewels it produced still sparkled brightly in your mind. 
“Hey, do you mind me asking,” the one standing beside the pickaxe-throwing blonde spoke, “why in the world would a royal guard want to kill you? I mean, forgive me if your looks are deceiving, but you look like just an innocent young girl.”
Averting your gaze to the quilted blanket draped over your form, you uttered, “it’s probably because my stepmother commanded him to…”
“Wow…” one of them breathed, “she has that kinda power? Then you must be, what–, some kind of lady?”
“Princess, actually,” you blinked up at them and watched as they all froze up, instantly growing so quiet that you would have been able to hear a single pin drop in the cottage, “thank you all so very much for saving me. I can’t even begin to fathom what would have happened if you hadn’t intervened.” 
“Oh, well…” the blonde one in the middle shifted slightly, visibly nervous at the discovery of who you truly were, “you’re welcome, your–, uhm, highness.”
“Please, just call me Snow. That’s what everyone does,” you waved a hand and offered him a soft smile, “what are your names?”
“Well, I’m Steve,” the one who’d thrown the pickaxe pressed his palm to his broad chest, “and that there is Bucky, Thor and Marc,” he gestured to the other miners, “and that’s Matthew, Frank and Miguel.”
“Miguel,” you spoke the name of your healer, “thank you for patching up my arm.” 
“Does it feel alright?” he glanced down at the bandage, he too clearly not having a clue how one should act around a royal, “because I could go get some herbs if you–”
“No, thank you, I think I’ll manage” you gently declined before uttering, “although, I–… what’s to happen now? I can’t just go back to the castle, I’d be dead within minutes.”
“Don’t you have anyone you trust somewhere else? Someone you could stay with?” the one named Matthew asked. 
The only person your mind managed to scrounge up was the prince you’d been unwillingly promised to, and he wasn’t just an individual you didn’t trust, but also one you feared.
“No…”
“Uh…” Marc exhaled before his glance flickered across the rest, “would you excuse us for a moment?” 
And as you offered a nod, they all filtered back out the bedroom and huddled up just outside the door, though you could still faintly catch a word or two in their discussion.
“Okay,” Steve crossed his burly arms across his chest when they all entered the room once more, “you can stay here for tonight, and then tomorrow we’ll help you come up with a plan.”
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The following day, when all the miners had gone off to the mountains for the day’s work, they’d said their goodbyes before leaving you in the cottage, fully expecting you to no longer be there once they returned. 
But you didn’t leave, you couldn’t have. Where would you have run off to?
So instead, to both try and convince the entire group of you staying, yet also in a makeshift attempt at thanking them for how they’d come to your aid, you spend the day cleaning their messy abode and welcoming them home to a dining table brimming with a roasted feast, a simple comfort none of them had seen in a while. 
It had only been one of them who hadn’t instantly jumped onto the unanimous agreement to let you become a part of their household, but he swiftly received an elbow to the rib to help change his tune.
Not long passed before you soon grew close, and one night, after weeks of you experiencing a sensation you’d never even known existed, something unfamiliar that each and every one of them evoke and flooded your senses with, you finally couldn’t hold your tongue any longer as your innocence had begun to thrust you into the abyss of worry. 
You still hadn’t received a permanent sleeping arrangement even though you’d been here for a while, each one of the miners still took turns letting you borrow one of their simple beds, all of them lined up along the perimeter of the shared bedroom, and let you rest there for the night while they took the humble couch. 
So as you sat on your bed for the night and your gaze shadowed the men as finished getting ready for the night, shedding their clothing and washing up in a small basin by one of the windows, the unfamiliar feeling fluttered once more in your lower belly and drove you to part your lips and utter, “hey Miguel?” you caught the attention of the healer of the lot, “I think there might be something wrong with me…” 
Patting his damp face dry with a small rag, he brought it down upon his shoulder as he furrowed his dark brows over at you, “why would you think that?”
Sucking in a sharp breath, you met his glance, “I feel strange…”
“Strange how?” he took a seat at the foot of the mattress you were curled up on, “explain it to me.”
“Well,” you began hesitantly, “ever since I got here, since I met you all, this weird feeling keeps bubbling up inside of me, like I’m about to faint or something, like I can’t think, and all I can focus on is just this odd tingling sensation almost, like–, I don’t know how to explain it, I know it sounds weird, but I swear, something’s going on, I don’t know what, but it’s weird.”
The man’s head then promptly tilted to the side and you heard him exhale, “oh, honey…” 
Your explanation also caught the attention of the rest of the miners and even conjured a small laugh in some, though Steve swiftly stepped in and barked, “hey! Shut it!” rapidly putting a holt to Bucky and Marc’s amusement. 
Placing a palm on your blanket-covered shin, Miguel then uttered gently, “I think what you’re describing isn’t something bad.”
“Are you sure?” you sat up a bit more. 
“Positive,” he nodded, trying his best to keep a straight face unlike some of the men behind him who still struggled even after getting scalded. 
“So, I’m not sick?”
“No,” he shook his head, “you’re not.”
“Your Highness,” Frank then spoke up, “have you never–, uhm, been with someone else?” 
“What do you mean?” your brows knitted together. 
“Okay, uh…” Thor sighed softly, taking your confusion as enough of an answer, “have you ever–, let’s say, kissedsomeone before?”
“Well, yeah, I’ve been kissed before,” your thoughts drifted to Prince Billy, though none of those times had stirred any sensations of this sort, “but I’ve never felt like this, not ever,” your gaze then danced between and caught each of the stares the seven miners directed at you, “what’s going on? Why are you all looking at me like that?”
“Have you touched yourself while you feel like this?” your eyes suddenly grew at Bucky’s bold question, “does your little honeypot get all wet from this feeling?” and when you found yourself too stunned to conjure an answer, he went on, this time with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, “I mean, if you’d like, one of us could help you. Teach you how to make it feel better…” 
“You know how to make it better?” you blinked back at him.
“Oh yeah,” his gaze dipped a bit as his grin grew wider. 
“Do you want one of us to help you?” you then heard Steve offer. 
And as your head began to rock in a soft nod, Marc asked, “which one do you want?”
But as you stared around at all of them, you murmured, “I–… I don’t know…”
“Just pick the one that gives you the most butterflies,” Matt tried to aid your decision, “the one that makes you feel like your heart lives between your thighs.”
“…do I have to pick?” you asked quietly as you blinked around at all of them, now clustered by the small bed, “couldn’t you all just help me?”
“…you want all of us to help you?” Miguel’s head dipped slightly as he tilted forward in surprise. 
“At once?” Frank asked. 
And as you offered them a nod, they all exchanged looks, silently agreeing before Steve uttered, “alright.” 
With all of the miners surrounding the bed, they swiftly kneeled down on the floor in a half-moon around you before they began. 
Before Marc, Thor and Frank the furthest from you grabbed a hold of the blanket draped over you and began to tug it down and let it crumble below your feet, Matt and Miguel to your right gently prepared you and began to undo your confusion. 
Each of their touches were feathery in the beginning as their fingers ghosted over your frame. At first, it wasn’t even in that scandalous of places as Steve and Matt even continued to hold your hands long after the thin chemise you wore had been tugged at, the neckline pushed down to expose your boobs, heaving with every fierce breath you sucked in, and the skirts shoved up, letting the linen bunch well above your hips to uncover the place where the dizzying sensation peaked to unimaginable heights. 
When the first touch fluttered between your legs, your eyes swiftly flickered up to find Bucky and Steve’s directly to your left as the pleasure was one you’d never even thought possible. 
You rapidly melted into the bliss as lingering embarrassment faded away and you soon let them crack you open even further, folding up your legs to grant them all better access to your haven. 
Even before your eyes fluttered closed, the job of deciphering which hand belonged to who was an impossible task. Floating in the sea of touches, not a millimetre of your skin was left unexplored, and neither were your untouched holes as they all turned you so molten that at one point everyone had at least one finger warm within you at once. 
Four digits stretched out your lips and both gave your mouth something to drool around and also let your moans melt against their flesh. Three of them slipped in and worked in tandem to stretch out your virgin cunt. They’d even gotten you so relaxed that two managed to sneak a finger inside of your tight little ass, plugging you up completely.
And when the still unfamiliar high began to bubble within you and creep near, worry first began to billow out of you once more, though after some soothing sentences and an ask of trust, they carried you through the overwhelming ecstasy till you were trembling in their hands and begging them to grant you that gift one more time, like an addict, already craving that sweetness once again.  
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ONE YEAR LATER
“Ah-ha-ha!” Thor’s jovial rumble was the first sign you got that any of the fellows had returned after a day at the mines, “come here, princess!” 
As he entered the cottage, arms spread out wide, he excitedly caught you in a hug and lifted you up as he swung you around till you became no more than an ethereal giggle in his hold. 
“Oh, no,” you complained light-heartedly through your laugh as his stale smell of sweat mixed with soot flooded your senses, “you’re so dirty!” you tried to glance down at your dress to see if any of the grime from the mine had transferred.
Letting out a chuckle as he only tightened his hold around your frame, “you love it,” he tilted his head out of the crook of your neck and planted a kiss to your lips. 
“You’re not–,” you continued your giggle even as his own mouth tried to smother the sound, “Thor, you need to bathe first.” 
“Oh, really?” he cocked his head and slyly narrowed his eyes, “you sure you don’t wanna repeat the welcome home you gave me yesterday where you couldn’t wait? I mean, I could barely get in the door before you had your lips on me, struggling to fit my balls inside that little mouth of yours?” 
His lips first pressed against your now hot cheek before they wandered across in a straight line down to your own, not simmering down his eagerness even as the rest of his fellow miners began to filter into the cabin. 
“Oh, so that’s why you ran ahead,” Marc’s sigh caused you to break the peck, “of course.” 
Still entangled in Thor’s strong arms, you glanced over at the familiar men who crossed the threshold and slowly began to set down their tools and peel off their muddy boots.  
“Heya, boys,” a warm bubble burst within you as you flashed them all a smile. Attempting to slip out of the burly hug, Thor still kept his palm interlocked in your own as you made your way around through the crowd and began to greet the others, “how was the mine today?”
“It was fine,” Frank muttered in your ear when you hugged him. 
And as your free arm lastly found Steve’s broad shoulder in an embrace, his low voice tickled the side of your neck as he exhaled, “hi Snow.”  
“Hi,” you pressed a soft kiss to his bearded cheek. 
As you retracted and let Thor pull you back against his warmth, Miguel asked, “so, what’s for dinner tonight?” as Thor leaned back against the sturdy dining table and dragged you with him, half planting you in his lap as he leaned you back against him. 
Though as the softness of your bottom came to rest against the miner’s pelvis, a palpable hardness distracted you even through the layers of your dress, “uhm, I’ve got a lentil stew going over the fire,” your breathing began to grow unsteady as he discreetly grinded you down against his desperation, “it should be done soon.” 
“Good,” Miguel smiled, haven not yet noticed the nefarious activities that had begun right under his own nose, “I’m starving.” 
“What else have you gotten up to today?” Matt asked as he sat down on the bench where Marc had already planted himself, “did you begin that book we were talking about?” 
“I–, uh, I started it, but I didn’t get that far,” your words became a struggle to form as you tried to fight through the fog Thor thrust you into, “ended up taking a nap instead.”
“Well, that’s good,” Bucky noted, “you were tossing and turning so much last–,” though his sentence then promptly crumbled as a soft whimper finally slipped out past your lips and drew his attention to the way Thor’s hands on your hips subtly rocked you down against him, “seriously?” he swiftly scalded him, “you couldn’t keep it in your pants for even two seconds?” 
“Right,” Thor scoffed, “like I'm the only one who’s desperate,” he then buried his grasp in your skirts and before you had the chance to protest, picked it up to prove his point. 
It was frankly a bit embarrassing how wet you already were, though when Thor grabbed ahold of your thighs and lifted you up, your back plastered against his chest as his hold on you spread you wide for all to see, your cunt couldn’t help but drool for them so fiercely that even the one furthest away from you could catch a glimpse of the glimmer glinting back at him in a lewd plea.  
“Hm…” Bucky hummed warmly as he kneeled down before you, though only let his palm come up to ghost against your inner thigh and didn’t grant you the sweet relief of petting your pussy as she cried out for his touch, “your Highness, are you sure it wasn’t something else you were doing all day while we were off at work?” 
“I–,” an airy chuckle innocently escaped your lungs, “what are you implying?” 
“Well, either you were too impatient to wait for us,” you sucked in a breath as his hand finally drifted up to offer your core the softest of pets, teasing you further into madness, “or just the mere sound of the front door opening got you dripping the way that you are right now…” 
“So, which is it, princess?” Frank smirked, arms crossed as he leaned back against the wall beside the fireplace, “are you a whore or is it just for us?” 
“You already know the answer to that…” you hazily smiled, though swiftly let out a whimper as Bucky removed his hand, denying you of any further pleasure. However, before you could part your lips in a complaint, Thor set you back down on your now wobbly feet. 
Your gaze found Steve’s as he took a seat beside Marc, unlike the rest of the men who began to swarm around you, their broad hands swiftly reaching for your dress. It nearly didn’t even get the chance to drop back down and cover you from how Thor had torn it up, before they nearly ripped it to shreds. 
And when no fabric was left to conceal your frame, your moment with your feet on the ground turned out to be more fleeting than you’d thought as both Frank and Miguel then shifted to stand behind you and their grasps found your form, first guiding your arms around their necks for support before they plucked you up. 
As Matt stepped up and seized your flaming cheeks to dip his lips down to yours, a whisper then washed over you as the sweet kiss ended, “can I have a taste?” and as your head began to nod, your nose momentarily nuzzled against his own before his knees buckled. 
Both Thor and Bucky enveloped a hand around your ankles, keeping you spread wide even as Matthew dropped down and made you squirm as his hot breath fanned across your glistening core. 
As your lips parted in a gasp, staring down at Matt as he dipped down to kiss your puffy pearl, in your periphery you just managed to spot how everyone’s free hand had found the tent in their pants, squeezing it for an ounce of relief as they watched you intently. 
When Matt’s tongue lapped through your petals, it wasn’t till he tilted his chin and sucked your clit into his mouth that your gaze fluttered up to find Marc’s across the room. 
“O-oh, fuck,” you moaned into the cottage, “I need–, I–, I need more–,” the plea left your lips as you tried to keep your stare lock. Though the love pecks felt incredible, it was bordering the line of crude torture, only tickling at your senses and not granting you the sweet relief the deepest depths of you yearned for so fiercely. 
It seemed like an eternity that Marc took to get up from his seat and actually cross the small room, though when he did, his palm briefly patted Matthew’s shoulder and caused the kisses to cease. 
“How much more, princess?” Marc asked as Matt got up and let him switch places. 
Though when your answer came in the form of your gaze dropping to his hard length, freed and heavy in his tight fist, one of the men holding you up murmured in your ear, “you want him to fuck you, huh? Is that what you want?” Frank’s deep timbre seeped directly into your bones as his lips dipped down to nip at your neck. 
“Uh-huh,” you nodded hazily, keeping your eyes glued as Marc stepped up and briefly swept the bulbous head of his cock through your folds. 
For a second, you thought it had been Marc himself who had slowly thrust his entirety inside of you, though in actuality when Miguel and Frank’s hold on you tightened, they’d been the ones to tilt your body just as the girth caught your entrance, and lower you down on it in one fell motion. 
“There you go, Snow,” Bucky breathed as your eyes fluttered at the stretch. Halting his palming of himself, Bucky’s hand soothingly swept up the length of you till it found your tit and cupped it gently, his calloused thumb stretching up to flick against your pebbly nipple and get your eyes to blink back open. 
Marc’s efforts were purposely slow and he gently began to warm you up for what you expected was in store. Though on one of his long and deep strokes, plunging all the way inside of your little pussy before yanking himself out completely, you only blinked and when your eyes fluttered back open, it wasn’t Marc’s cock that was buried deep within you, but instead the last man to join the fray. 
“S-Steve, o-oh!” your head tilted back slightly as his fat girth split you open. 
“Oh, how do you always feel better than I recall?” Steve groaned, the tip of him already bumping against your cervix. 
“It’s that fucking princess pussy,” Thor grunted, “I swear it’s like magic or something.” 
“No matter how many of us try and fit inside of you at once, we just can’t ruin you,” Miguel kissed your cheek, “you just snap right back and we have to stretch you all the way back out again.” 
Steve, Marc and Matt before you then took turns, fucking you slowly and building a rhythm till they became like a river, each of them only sinking in and letting their balls tap against your slick skin before they pulled back out and let the other one take a dive. As the silky pattern pushed you closer to the peak and made you dazed out of your mind, you stopped being able to tell who was fucking you when, as they all just flowed together and worked your body as one soul being. That was often how it was with your seven miners. In certain moments, they just became something else, something entirely different and much more ethereal than seven mortal men, but instead fused together into a sea of love that they let you float in. 
Once your first of many orgasms washed over you and rocked through your soul, your body was set back down, though only for a mere moment before Bucky picked you up into his arms and carried you with him as he lowered himself onto one of the long benches that stretched out on either side of the dining table. 
As he settled you atop of him and slipped inside your still throbbing cunt, your head tilted up in the direction of the men whose hard lengths were still glistening with your juices and your hands fluttered up to motion for them, grabbing for their girths, way before your fingers could reach them, though when they did, Steve didn’t let your touch linger on himself but instead plucked up your face and parted your lips with his cock, letting your hands take care of Matt and Marc on either side of him while he gently fucked your mouth. 
“Oh, shit,” Frank then appeared before you, wedging himself in beside Steve’s bulky form, “share some of that sugar,” his palm found your cheek and stroked it softly. As your lips left Steve with an audible pop, Frank’s fingers drifted up to bury themselves in your locks before he guided you to him and groaned as he finally felt you swallow his cock, “yes…”
However, what you didn’t expect was how Steve’s hand too fluttered up to tangle itself in the other side of your hair before they both took over your head’s movements, passing you back and forth between the both of them, though only granting themselves one long bob at a time.  
When a pair of fingers softly swept over the last of your holes, your eyebrows knit together at the familiar teasing. 
“What do you say, Snow?” you heard Thor utter from behind you as he brought his palm down to smack the curve of your ass, watching intently as Miguel’s fingertips rub against you, only shyly dipping inside the hole just above where Bucky split you open, “exactly how much more are you in the mood for today?”
And when you took your chance to catch your breath, you shot back your needy answer through your heaving intakes of air, “all of it.” 
It wasn’t till Miguel let out a gravelly groan that you knew which one had gotten the chance to claim your ass first. When a dollop of his spit landed upon your skin, his thumb wasted no time to soar up and rub it in, swiping over your little rosebud as it stretched to take his girth. 
The task of keeping up your attention to the four miners at your head became an impossible task as they gave your mouth a break for your breathless moans to flow freely and they instead came to your aid and helped guide your hands around to grant them all a bit of affection. 
With both of your holes snuggly filled up, you felt yourself near the edge once more, though it was Thor who pushed you over it as his hand coiled around your waist and snaked down to find your swollen clit in a lavish pattern. 
Though when you buried your face in the crook of Bucky’s neck and trembled between his and Miguel’s burly forms, Thor’s touch dissipated and though you half expected him to join the rest up top, it still didn’t manage to surprise you what he opted for instead. 
“Holy shit!” you shakily gasped, your palm nearly slapping Bucky in the chest as you felt Thor angle himself behind you and press his cock in beside Miguel’s, who’s dick was already more than enough for you to handle on its own. 
“Shh,” Bucky tilted your chin down for you to catch his eye, “don’t act like this is your first time, princess,” he kept his own pace selfish as the silky wall parting him from the rest grew thinner than ever, “you can take it,” his palm tapped your cheek lightly as he smiled at how you overcame the staggering sensation, “just as you always do.” 
And take it you did, soon gushing all over them as the three miners emptied themselves into your holes, pumping you full and leaving you a leaky mess for the remainder to enjoy while they all found a seat to relax in and watch you descend further into madness. 
It was Frank who then flipped your molten form around, planting himself on the very same bench, and twisted you around for your back to be melting down against his front. He slipped in effortlessly as the two loads that dripped out of your ass aided his fat girth as he buried himself completely, fucking the other miner’s cum that much deeper inside your utterly wrecked hole. 
“How’s she doing, huh?” Steve asked as he and Matthew stepped up between your parted legs, his fingers coasting down to spread open and inspect your pussy as it too leaked, “you think she can take a bit more? You think she can take on the two of us?” he briefly pumped two of his fingers into your quivering hole as he awaited your answer. 
“I–, you can try,” you panted, hazily blinking down at how Matt’s digits too came down between your thighs and began to draw rude patterns over your puffy pearl, “I don’t know if I can do it, but you can try.”
“Atta girl,” Matt flashed you a smile before each of their touches was traded out for something much more overwhelming. 
With Marc as the last one remaining above your head, he stayed patient and simply stood there, stroking your hair and even dipping down to press his lips to your cheek as your poor pussy struggled to take the two cocks your loves attempted to ease in there. Though, when your eyes widened at the eventual success, the man behind you only let you stare at the severe stretch a moment before he tilted your head back, supporting it with both of his hands as you caught on and parted your lips for him. 
As he fucked your face, one of his hands briefly swept down to your throat as he fed you more of his length and spotted how a dull bulge of him appeared each time you gagged around his girth. 
You felt as if you’d slipped into a trance by the time everyone had gotten the chance to cum inside your sweetness, yourself falling apart around them enough times that you lost count. Though even so, as you layed there, various burly men enveloping your half-continuous form in their warmth, your eyes blinked open and spotted the few who’d gotten the privilege to go first and how they’d at some time grown hard once again and were now pumping their cocks in their fists, with all of their greedy gazes glued on you.  
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The seven miners always warned you to be careful while they were off at work and you were all alone in the secluded cottage. Even though it was located in the middle of the woods, they still advised you not to open the door for anyone, not even if their looks deceived you. 
You should have heeded those warnings the day when an old hag knocked at the cabin door, because she didn’t turn out to be just a sweet old lady as you had thought when you first spotted her through the window, dark cloak drawn up over her grey hair as she clutched onto a heavy basket of apples in one arm and thumped her free fist against the front door. 
All she’d asked for had been a sip of water, one your kindness couldn’t deny her of. 
Though your gravest mistake came when you accepted her seemingly kind offer of gratitude in the form of one of her apples, because when you sank your teeth into the crisp red fruit, the produce suddenly turned rotten in your grasp, granting you a brief glance of the truth, of the potent poison it withheld, before the effects took ahold and cast you into an eternal slumber. 
The enchanted sleep however wasn’t like the one you’d heard tales about as it in truth only shut down your body as the rest of your senses still stayed awake, alert and aware as ever to the things around you, though forever helpless to whatever could occur. 
When your dear miners returned that day, the sight that found them utterly broke them all. 
And when they discovered that you’d received a fate worse than death, a few of them had to lean on superstition in order to cope. 
Though superstition was what superstition often is, just a fairytale. 
No matter how many of them attempted to press their lips to yours, you stayed asleep as true love’s kiss turned out to be no more than a bedtime story. 
That’s how you ended up in a blossoming glen, not far from the cottage that had grown to become your home, encased in a glass coffin. 
But that’s also how he found you again…
Prince Billy had been on a hunting trip the day he stumbled over the clearing you rested in, his deepest desires he’d assumed forever lost, so perfectly on display for him in the middle of the woods and with no one to stop him from taking you with him back to his castle. You had been his fiancé after all, so if your fate as his wife included you being a little less of an active participant than you’d been previously, then so be it. He could be content with you as nothing but a living doll… in fact, perhaps the royal even preferred it… 
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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wanderingmind867 · 18 days ago
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I think this would actually be the perfect excuse for a Daredevil and Silver Age Batman crossover. Matt Murdock defends Batman, while Daredevil investigates outside of court. And while he battles Two-Face in the courtroom, he deals with Two-Face and The Riddler. I think it'd be a great crossover. I'd read it.
That riddler plot in the 1960s Batman show where he tried to get Batman in legal trouble so he’d reveal his identity was SO GOOD and I’m mad he decided to also try and steal an elephant full of cash or whatever it was at the same time. If he’d just done the suing thing it probably would have worked but no, he has to be extra
Anyways I want him to try that again (this time without any sideplots) and I want him to hire Harvey Dent as his lawyer I think it would be silly
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star-crossed-sluts · 8 months ago
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Matt Murdock X Chubby!Fem!Reader
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Contents: 2.2k words, love confession/discussion, cheeky reader, giggly sex, chubby female reader, slight insecure reader but that's quickly solved, mentions of bullying regarding weight though very brief
Minors DNI
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You've dealt with strange looks all your life. It wasn't surprising their whispers had infiltrated your mind. Often you managed to catch yourself, stopping the thoughts that weren't quite yours. When you first met Matt, the most frequent one was, of course, you could only get a blind man to like you. It was cruel, and you tried to chase it away every time, but there was a small part of you that thought, if only I can keep him from touching me, we can go on like this. 
Because you were a fool. 
He always grabs your hips first, almost a warning of the devil to come. 
“What’re you doing up,” he rumbled against your neck, voice thick with sleep. You're half-sure he’s subconsciously tracking how long you've been away from his arms every night, waking himself when the timer passes your usual bathroom breaks’ duration. 
His hands push even further, rubbing your sides until he's gripped two handfuls of your soft stomach. Bare chest plastered against your back, his grip manhandling your hips back to meet his. You used to shy away from his touch, wanting to keep the you from reality separate from the you he's crafted in his mind's eye. 
Little hard to feel ashamed of your body when he was rocking his hard-on against your ass.
“You're insatiable, Matthew.” 
His groan was pained, like you were terribly twisting his arm instead of letting him fondle you in the kitchenette. “Don't call me Matthew,” he griped, one hand searching for the bottom of your nightshirt. “Reminds me of my priest.” 
You leaned into him, a fond smile playing on your lips as he found the edge of your panties, starting to leave open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Because you’re such an altar boy,” you joked as his fingers trailed the hem, outlining the curve where your leg met your mound. You know the moment he thinks of a retort, because his lips twitch against your pulse.
“Well, I do seem to spend a lot of time on my knees-” He burst into laughter as your elbow came back at him, letting you attack his ribs to distract you from the way his hand explored your upper thigh. “Abuse,” he accused, “attacking a blind man!”
“It’s alright, I know a great lawyer.”
Matt chuckled against the thrumming vein in your neck, his grip on your stomach pulling you tighter against him. “Yeah? You know, my rates are pretty steep, but I think we can come up with some alternative payment.”
“I was talking about Foggy.”
His laugh flew out of him, taken completely off guard, and sent you into manic giggles right along with him, throwing yourself back against his chest to hold you upright. “You're terrible,” he cackled, tugging you to shuffle backwards to the bedroom with him. “Come back to bed, trouble.” 
“Oh, don't you start with me,” you faux-threatened, but still gave in and helped him navigate the living room. “You're so much more trouble than I am.” 
He pretended to mull it over, hmm-ing and mmm-ing between soft kisses on your neck. “Alright,” he decided, “I'll let you have that one. Y'know, since you obviously need a win right now.” 
You hit the mattress, helping each other climb into bed like you hadn't been in months, as opposed to the twenty minutes it took you to make and drink your sleep aid. Only when you were wrapped in each other's arms again did you gush, “oh, yes, obviously. How can I thank you, Matty?”
Who could ever think you were anything but beautiful - that he thought you were anything but stunning - when he got such an eager, bashful grin at the suggestion. When his entire face lit up with a pink hue, as if he hasn't helped himself to your body any chance he got. How long have you lived together, and he still got that cute crinkle in the corners of his eyes with the force of his beaming as he dove for your lips. 
“Y'know,” he murmured into your mouth, “I was disappointed when I woke up and you were gone.” 
You dragged your hands down his bare back, snapping his waistband with a grin. “Oh yeah?” 
“Yeah,” he emphasized, like he was offended by the teasing tone you took with him, snapping your underwear. A warning that he was ready to give as good as he got. “It's not nice to leave your boyfriend all alone in bed.”
You hummed, pretending to really consider that as you let him pull you to straddle his hips. He helped you out of your night shirt, tossing the thin fabric aside and letting out a pleased groan as you plastered your chest to his. You dragged your lips softly over his jaw, a smile twitching into place as he chased you, trying to catch a kiss. “Are you saying you think I should make it up to you?” 
“I'm saying it's been entirely too long since you've sat on my face.” 
A laugh burst from you at that, even as Matt peeled your underwear down your thighs. “Oh, yes, it's already been several days!”
“Exactly: it's been days,” he groaned, offering his hands for you to balance as you tossed around to escape the cotton around your knees, working them down one leg, then the other. 
“Next time,” you promised with a soft kiss, nimble fingers working the strings on his pants. “I drank my-”
“Your sleepy girl mocktail?” He grinned like he could feel your embarrassed glare, kissing the pout off your lips. “Can taste it. You added honey tonight?” 
“I needed something to make it sweeter,” you huffed. A tap on his hip and he lifted them for you, helping you work his pants off. You couldn't help a smile as his dick slapped his stomach, leaving a smudge of pearly precum on his smooth skin. “You're such an evil man,” you accused, wrapping your fingers around his base to watch the way his hips jerked into your palm. A stroke with your thumb along that thick vein and he leaked another stream, dripping down the side of him and onto your hand. “You're this hard when you've been teasing your poor girlfriend?” 
Your hips moved on their own when he slid two thick fingers between his lips, grinding against him as he laved his tongue over the digits. That smug grin you hated to love spread across his face as his wet fingers fit themselves to your slit, one rubbing soft shapes into your clit while the other pressed inside you. “My poor girlfriend,” he mused, “who never gets off on teasing me?” 
You shut him up with a kiss, trying to smother his chuckles that told you he knew exactly what you were doing. Still, it didn't stop him from taking advantage, pressing his tongue into your mouth, tasting every inch of you. The bitterness of the tart cherry juice and the sweetness of the honey from your drink dancing on his tongue, disappointingly hiding the taste of you that he's begun to crave. If he pushed deeper, he could almost imagine he found it again, in the back of your throat where nothing could reach but him. Somehow it felt even more intimate than the way you worked each other up with your hands: being the only one to know what you taste like behind the toothpaste and soda you cycled through daily. 
Matt's no idiot. He hears the comments you get, feels the stares - sometimes even more than you do. He wished he could find a way to tell you how wrong they were, but how would he even begin? How do you tell someone that when you wake up alone, the first thing you do is listen for where your girlfriend’s gone? That you could sculpt her exactly from how much you touch her, desperate to commit her to memory. How do you tell someone that even without your sight, your every sense is devoted to her?
He supposed he could settle for making you see stars while he figured it out.
You grinned against Matt's lips, a slight giggle falling out, as he rolled you onto your back. You were always tempted to make fun of him for his favorite position, but there was nothing Catholic about the way he took you.
Your hands kept working his cock as he arranged you - hooking your knees over the crooks of his elbows so he could feel your thick thighs pressed against him - to hear him curse under his breath. “Careful,” he warned, kissing his way down the side of your neck, “or we'll be up all night,”
“Mm, is that supposed to discourage me?” 
A strained laugh against your tender skin as you gave a particularly harsh tug. “You think you're so cute,” he managed out, trying to sound anything other than reverent.
You shared a chaste kiss as you guided him between your thighs. “I'm adorable,”
“Yes, you are. Arms around my neck, angel.” 
You always ended up the same way when one or the other needed some love. Nose to nose, lips glancing off each other like you were shy teenagers again. Your legs over Matt's arms gave him the feeling of holding you completely, letting his hands wander to feel every reaction your body gave him. Your arms around his neck, letting you claw up his back or card through his soft hair, pull his mouth wherever you wanted it. 
A match made in heaven. 
Matt had long since broken you of your bad habit to muffle yourself, the breathy moan falling unhindered from your lips as he pressed into you like coming home. Your voice rang in the empty bedroom, more beautiful than any song, perfectly accompanied by the slick sounds from your cunt as he started a slow, grinding pace. Your hands clenched and unclenched, scratching the base of his neck as you lost yourselves in each other. Lips connected in passing swipes, sharing a deep kiss and almost separating before diving back in. His fingers traced every curve, dip and fold of your soft skin, reveling in your body the way only a man truly in love could. 
The word haunted him until he told you. “Love you,” he managed through heaving breaths, soft and quiet in the privacy of the bed you shared. Then, as if afraid you hadn’t heard him, he said it louder. “I’m in love with you, y’know that?” 
“Matty,”
A great big grin spread over his face when you whined, ankles locking together behind him like you thought he’d stop talking if he fucked you deeper. “Why so shy,” he hummed, stealing another wet kiss. “You didn’t know that? I don’t tell you enough?” He felt your feet kick and your lips turn into a pout, laughing at your mini fit. 
“‘S different,” you insisted, dragging him back to your lips, only to pull him back once you’ve thought of a defense. “In love is bigger than love.” 
It’s a conversation you had in the early stages, when friendship was just barely turning into something more, when you were both stuck dropping hints, hoping the other would make the leap. You didn’t think he remembered until he managed to quote you with his hips pressed into yours. “‘Love is a feeling you can’t control, being in love is a choice- a commitment,’ I know.” He plunged into you as deeply as he could, bringing your lips to his with his palms cupping your round cheeks. He only pulled back when you were both struggling to breathe, searching each other’s air for anything you could get from it. “I,” he enunciated carefully, making sure he left no room for misinterpretation, “am hopelessly in love with you, darling. I choose you every hour of the day. I would choose you in a room of women, I would choose you if you were a worm, and in every other ridiculous scenario that you let keep you up at night.” He heard your lips part as your jaw went slack, smelled the salt of your budding tears as he ranted to you. He pressed a chaste kiss to your parted lips. “I know it’s bigger, and you don’t have-”
“I’m in love with you.”
He felt his heart thump in his chest, beating its way out as you dragged him down to your level, smacking a hundred split-second kisses to every inch of his face. “I love you, I am in love with you, I would pick you- I love you so much, Matty!” 
He pulled your hips up higher on his lap so he could get closer to you, arms wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest until there wasn’t a breath of air between you. His firm body pressing into your soft one like he could make a home in your chest, let you surround him until you would never have to be apart. 
“I hope you realize we’ll definitely be up all night now,”
“I’m not the one who has court tomorrow,” 
A giddy laugh smothered in the crook of your neck as his hips started pumping into you again. “You are trouble,”
You pressed your lips to his temple. “Perfect match for you, then.”
“Yes, you are.”
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sim0nril3y · 9 months ago
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I got you.
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Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: After hours of labour your precious baby has finally arrived. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), very soft, very fluffy, pregnancy, post-labour. Note: Thank you so much to @milf-murdock for feeding into my Dad!Simon delusions. I appreciate you.
It was amazing. One of the most beautiful experiences that Simon had been allowed to witness. He had watched his beautiful wife bring their daughter into the world and here the little bundle was laid across his chest. A tiny little babe pressed to his skin, warm and protected in this cold world. It was in that moment Simon knew that no harm would ever come to her.
There you were laying, completely exhausted, eyelids so heavy that they seemed to droop down further and further with every tiny blink. Still, you were unable to take your eyes from that wonderful little bundle too. “You fought bloody hard.” Simon said with so much love and tenderness, glancing away from that the little human using him as a mattress to look at you. “M'so proud of you.”
For a moment you lower lip trembled, reaching out a hand towards him, which Simon happily took, squeezing your fingers. “She’s so perfect.” You voice was practically hoarse. “I didn’t realise one little baby could be so perfect.” You were completely enamoured by your new daughter, unable to take your eyes from her for a second. “Did we get the best baby ever?”
“Yeah.” Simon let out a small breathy laugh, watching the way the small tuffs of hair seemed to ruffle. Hair. She has hair. His hair. Little blonde splotches on hair on top of her precious head. His daughter. His hair. That nose… was he crazy or did she have his nose too? “She looks like you.” You mentioned, but there was no malice or envy to your tone. “Yeah.” Simon said again, completely dumbstruck. “Poor kid.” He added with another hearty chuckle, careful not to disturb the sleeping babe on his chest.
“Lucky kid.” You corrected softly, leaning your head into the pillow. “Poppy’s gonna… have the best daddy in the world.” You fought back a yawn then, blinking a little too heavy. It took him a full minute to realise what you had said before creasing his brows and reeling. It caught him by surprise then, looking towards your sleepy face. “Did you say Poppy?” Simon asked with raised brow.
Coming back from your exhausted haze you asked. “Hmm?” “Poppy… you called her Poppy…” It had been a name he’d written on the list a few weeks ago. One of the few names he’d written down amongst the dozen that you had scribbled, he had thought choosing a name would be impossible, but you said it like it was destined. “The second I saw her… she looked like a Poppy.” You explained, followed by another yawn. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” Simon replied, his voice a little tighter. “I love her.” Then squeezing your hand. “I love you.” Then looking towards you to see that your eyes had completely closed now, dropping off into a comfortable sleep after your hours of hard work bringing your precious daughter into the world. “S’alright, Poppy. I got you.” He placed a hand over her back, securing her, protecting her, shielding her. “I got you, babygirl. Daddy’s got you.”
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Masterlist | Ask | 30-04-2024
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