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shiorimakibawrites · 7 months ago

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Part 2 (Cat Man Do)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Seconding Pairings: Foggy Nelson x Marci Stahl, implied Karen Page x Frank Castle Word Count: 11,000 Summary: It is a day of discovery for you. Warning(s): Swearing, sexual fantasies, referenced masturbation, kissing, dirty talk, referenced marking/hickies, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected P in V sex, referenced oral sex (male receiving), referenced animal abuse (not graphic) Series Masterlist Matt Murdock/Daredevil Masterlist General Masterlist Tag List: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @indestructeible, @what-i-call-men, @reblog-reblog666, @flynnethenerd, @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment, @yarrystyleeza, @bellaxgiornata, @reluctanthalfwayofoptimism, @bluerobin35 Also posted on AO3

Cat Man Do

Part 2 of 2

“And that’s the last of it,” you said to yourself as you put the last of the dishes into the drying rack. While you dried off your hands, you did a quick survey of your handiwork. The apartment was now back to its normal state of relative tidiness. The only remaining mess was the nest of blankets that Trouble had burrowed himself into and presumably napping it.

It had been tempting to peek. Very tempting. But you knew yourself. If you did that, you wouldn’t be able to resist petting him. Then you would probably give into the urge to see if he liked any of the cat toys you still had . . . then boom, the housework would be completely forgotten.

It wasn’t that you hated housework. It was just boring. Which made any number of procrastinating distractions rather appealing. Listening to music or podcast on your phone usually helped. Singing along with your favorite songs or learned something interesting made it feel like the dull but necessary work wasn’t taking so long. Thought you had to avoid certain ones while doing housework because sometimes they got you arguing with the people in the magic box instead of doing what you were supposed to. Like ironing your work clothes . . .

Other days, your brain decided to turn whatever was coming out of your phone into white noise and simply daydreamed. Today was one of those days. Fortunate for getting your work done, those daydreams stayed innocent. Imaging Matt having his way with you on your kitchen table, for example, would have been rather distracting. Case in point, even just the thought of that fantasy was making you squirm.

Keeping them sweet didn’t prevent Matt from taking the staring role. Far from it. Which was embarrassing for all different reasons. It was one thing to have sexual fantasies about an attractive man. Picturing that same man saying three little words with that deeply fond smile on his face had different implications.

Implications that made you feel stupid. You knew falling in love with your boss was a bad idea. The king of bad ideas. Mousy secretary falls in love with her incredibly attractive boss is the premise for a romance novel, not a recipe for true love forever. You were going to get your heart broken. Probably not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday.

You weren’t looking forward to it. Watching women hit on him already felt like a knife to your heart. Watching while he meet someone else and fall in love with them was going to be agony. Assuming you stayed around to watch. Which you likely wouldn’t do. You weren’t that much of masochist.

The worst part was that you wanted Matt to find his special someone. The person who would make him laugh and help him find joy. Someone who would comfort him when he was sad, take care of him when he was sick. For him to know that someone loved him, that they wanted to stay forever . . . you wanted that for him.

Maybe it was selfish but you just wished that special someone was you.

You knew it was unlikely. Matt had never stated an interest in you beyond friendship. Yes, he flirted. But Matt flirted with everyone. And yes, you had gone on all those outings with him. But those were friend outings, not dates. And yes, on those occasions when Matt asked him to guide him, it seemed like he was reluctant to let go of your arm afterward. Or how he kept holding your hands after they had gotten warmed up after forgetting your gloves last week, only dropping them when the office phone rang . . .

But he never said anything. Sometimes it seem liked he might. Moments where he said he had something to tell you, something that he wanted to ask, that seem like maybe . . . then nothing. Either the universe intervene – phone calls, fire alarm, sudden loud argument between two food truck drivers – or it wouldn’t be exactly what you were hoping for. Like asking if you would be his plus-one at some fancy party being thrown by Columbia Law alum next weekend. That wasn’t a date. It was just practical since he and Foggy had only gotten their invitations to said party this week . . . It was a very deliberate snub considering Marci had received hers month ago . . .

Granted, you hadn’t said anything to him either. In part because you wanted to avoid ruining what you already had. You genuinely liked being Matt’s friend. You valued that relationship and didn’t want to lose it. Or make things incredibly awkward. But big part of it was simply that you weren’t ready to hear ‘I’m flattered but . . .’

You’d probably never be ready. Because no matter how kindly someone tries to let you down, rejection always stung . . .

“Enough moping,” you told yourself sternly. You had a mystery to explore.

But first you were going to check on Trouble. He had been rather quiet. Too quiet. He might simply be asleep but your experience said that sometimes the too quiet cat was a cat getting into mischief. You walked over to the blanket cocoon and peeled back the layers until you found the lithe, brown form. A pair of yellow-green eyes blinked sleepily at you. You couldn’t resist. There were few things cuter than a drowsy cat. You reached over and started lightly scratching behind the ears. Trouble purred and bumped his head more firmly into your hands.

“Hey there, sleepy kitty,” you said. “Enjoy your nap?”

He made one of those trilling noises which only made your smile grow. And encouraged you to keep petting him. Which wasn’t a hardship.

“Your coat is so soft, Trouble,” you said. “Feels like velvet.”

Like your new dress, the one you had let Marci and Karen talked you into buying for the fancy party. You hadn’t intended to buy anything when you accompanied them to the stops. You had fully intended to just wear one of the dresses you already owned. But then you saw it.

A pretty black dress made of velvet that looked like it was your size. Curious, you had checked. It was. Moreover, it was marked off enough to within your limited budget. Which made it very tempting. A temptation that Marci enthusiastically enabled. Come on, at least see how it fits . . .

It fit perfectly, hugging your curves just right. Offered tantalizing glimpses of skin without showing off more than you were comfortable with. You had felt beautiful wearing it. Which meant Marci and Karen didn’t have to push very hard to convince you to buy it. Karen sweetened the deal by reminding you that Matt loved velvet. And that maybe feeling so pretty would give you the confidence boost you needed to tell him how you felt.

Something that both Karen and Marci seemed very certain would be received well. You weren’t nearly so sure but you brought the dress.

In the name of making you feel as pretty and confident as possible, Karen and Marci decided you also needed new shoes and underwear. When you objected that you couldn’t afford to do that, Marci countered that she would pay. Which was why you were now the proud owner of a pair of heels that cost a frankly ridiculous amount of money. Because when Marci decided to treat someone, she didn’t believe in going cheap.

The underwear set had been more reasonably priced but still seemed like a lot for a bra and panties. Even if they were made of high quality silk and lace. But they had looked good on you too and Karen had asked you to imagine if everything went well and the night ended with your dress on Matt’s bedroom floor . . .

You didn’t know what had flustered you more. Your own imagination or that evil, knowing grin on Karen’s face or Marci supplying lewd details of Matt’s sexual prowess. Not from her own experience but she knew people who had slept with him. People whose stories she trusted to be accurate.

Karen insisted that the underwear had to be dark red. Saying with a mysterious smile that Matt would find it hot. Which just confused you. For obvious reasons, purely visual elements like color didn’t hold any appeal for Matt . . .

“Why?” you mused out loud. But since Karen wasn’t here to pester, your only answer was a questioning meow from Trouble. Which probably had more to do with you getting so lost in your head that you had stopped petting him than anything else.

“Sorry, Trouble,” you said, resuming the pets. “Got distracted. Trying to figure out why Karen thinks Matt would find me wearing red silk underwear sexy.”

Trouble made the strangest sound you had ever heard from a cat. Like he couldn’t decide which cat noise to make and kept switching tracks part-way through each one. If he had been human, you would have said he was sputtering.

It was such a funny reaction that you couldn’t help giggling.

Matt’s current form prevented him from blushing. Which he supposed he should be thankful for. His sputtering already had you giggling. He could only imagine your reaction to seeing his cheeks go what he had been told was a lovely shade of dusty pink.

What was Karen up to? Telling you something like that?!

The fact that it was true was immaterial. Now he would have fantasies about running his hands over your curves, feeling your petal soft skin encased in silk . . . and the idea of you wearing Daredevil red immensely pleased that possessive streak that ran deep inside him . . .

But he didn’t need help coming up with impure thoughts about you. He already spent far too much time touching himself while imaging you spread out on his bed, exploring every inch with his hands and mouth, the sounds of your pleasure filling his ears . . . Fantasies that were going to be a lot more vivid now that he knew exactly what those noises sounded like and just how sweet your arousal tasted . . . even if tasting it from the air was a poor substitute for tasting it directly from the source . . .

Matt shook himself. He shouldn’t be thinking about that.

You turned your attention toward your pack and the mystery inside it. You moved the pack over to the couch and started pulling out the suit.

The red color was brighter than you expected, dark scarlet instead of the maroon it had looked under the dim light of your flashlight. The webbing between panels wasn’t black either. It was a deep, deep red that almost black. Like those really good cherries that you loved but could never remember what they were called. It was was just as heavy as you remembered, with the heft that reminded you of an old friend’s bulletproof vest. But more flexible . . . actually, looking at all of the webbing interwoven into it, you’d guess a lot more.

“It seems Daredevil is a bendy vigilante,” you mused outloud. “Probably not as bendy as Spider-Man but that guy is made out of silly-putty. Or at least his spine is.”

The suit was a little scuffed but otherwise looked fine. No holes, rips, or tears that you could find. No visible blood . . . you sniffed. You couldn’t smell any blood either. Just sweat. Something clean that you recognized as saddle soap. The fainter odor of plain soap along with something very familiar.

“Huh,” you said, eyeing the suit. “Daredevil and Matt wear the same cologne. Small world.”

Next, you checked the pouches on the belt. There weren’t that many. They contained a prepaid cell phone that you set aside to look at more closely later, zip ties, fold-up cash, and business cards. Curious, you shuffled through the cards. Nelson & Murdock, Alias Investigations, Chikara Dojo, FEAST, Helping Hands . . . . Each business or charity was separated by paper clips or rubber bands.

“Curious,” you murmured, wondering why . . . maybe he just didn’t want to spend time shuffling through them looking for a particular one? Or didn’t think he would always have time to do that? Maybe he had folded up the cash for the same reason. As long as he remembered how each card was bundled or bill folded, he could get out the right one without looking at them.

You turned your attention to the phone but was immediately stymied. The phone refused to turn on. It didn’t look broken. Which probably meant that it needed to be charged. Guess you weren’t the only one who forgot to put their phone on the charger. Or maybe Daredevil used a phone while fighting crime a lot more than anyone would expect. You grumbled as you got off the couch. You weren’t sure if your charger would work with this phone. Thankfully it did but the batteries were practically dead. Investigating the phone would have to wait.

In the meantime, you inspected the helmet. It was the same color as the suit but not the same materials, something more rigid. But it seemed to be in good shape. You couldn’t see or feel any cracks. You traced the edge of the characteristic horns and mask. You were unable to resist to urge to put the helmet on your own head. It probably looked ridiculous. There was nothing superhero about your oversized tee shirt featuring a gray cat calling itself ‘purr-fect’ and sweat pants. But you were curious. What did the world look like to the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?

The answer was very red. You had expected a reddish tint from the color of the lenses. But it was more intense than you expected. It was also less . . . clear than you would have thought. The lenses weren’t opaque – you could see through them. But tinted dark like a pair of sunglasses.

“Odd,” you said, wondering why Daredevil had what was effectively sunglasses built into his helmet. It seemed peculiar. Especially for a vigilante that operated almost exclusively at night. And had a known habit of cutting lights to places before going in. The consensus in the hero forums was that Daredevil must be able to see in the dark. But, you frowned, even the best night vision still needed some light . . . even nocturnal animals couldn’t see in total darkness . . .

“If he has superhuman night vision,” you thought outloud, pulling off the helmet. “Maybe his eyes are really light sensitive?”

Trouble meowed loudly. It sounded almost like a no.

“Vetoing that theory, Trouble?” You asked, glancing over at him. He had crawled out of the blanket cocoon and was doing the big stretch. Which, by the rules of cat companions everywhere, you had to comment on. “Ohhh, big stretch!”

He meowed again. You laughed. It was almost like he was answering you.

You smiled and shook your head. Despite Trouble’s rejection, the theory was plausible. Someone whose eyes worked very well at low light could very well be someone that found bright light painful. And while he worked at night, New York City wasn’t all that dark after sundown. Nowhere near as dark as it was out in the forest.

Granted, Hell’s Kitchen was darker at night than most of the city. Streets lights and other sources of lighting that had gotten damaged in the Incident still hadn’t been repaired or replaced. Somehow there was never enough money in the budget. At least not for something like street lights. Some of the landlords were similarly disinclined. Others had died during the aforementioned alien invasion and similar attacks on the city. And many of those estates were a byzantine nightmare of disputed wills, shell companies, and other assorted legal headaches.

You knew this because Nelson & Murdock was one of the many laws firms attempting untangle this particular Gordian knot. The progress had been slow and uneven. Matt and Foggy had muttered many unkind words about property law, estate law, the lawyers involved in creating this mess, and especially the lawyers trying to keep the knot intact because the mess benefited their clients . . . which yes, was their job. But they didn’t have be so smug about it . . .

The color of the lenses was another question mark. Why red? Then you remembered something you had read . . . red lenses or red lights helped people kept their eyes dark adapted or helped them adjust to low-light conditions quicker. Of course that little nugget had been discovered during a romp through Wikipedia Wonderland. So massive grain of salt . . .

Of course, it could simply be aesthetics. It fit with the Devil theme. You imagined that seeing the sudden glint of those red lenses from out of the shadows would be quite intimidating.

“Or maybe he just likes red,” you muttered to yourself, putting the helmet down on the coffee table.

You drummed your fingers against your thigh, staring at the suit . . . why? Why would Daredevil abandon his suit and (possibly) walk into the night wearing (possibly) only whatever was under the suit?

“Which couldn’t be much,” you mused, your face flushing at the thought. Most images of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen were either low-quality, out-of-focus, or too shadowy to make out much. But from what you could tell, the suit was close-fitting. No much room for anything but him in there. Or nothing at all. Which was an idea that made your flush worse.

Matt might have been the leading man in your fantasies but he wasn’t the only one to appear. You had entertained thoughts about Daredevil. Very dirty thoughts. Which was really saying something considering some of the ones involving Matt . . . but there was just something about the vigilante that could made you feel feral.

You had the feeling that those fantasies were about to get more vivid. Because now, you knew what the suit looked like up close. What it felt like under your hands. Granted what it felt like without Daredevil actually in it. Which was, if you were being perfectly honest, a little disappointing. You might be carrying the torch for Matt but that didn’t stop other men from being attractive. Or your mind from idly (and somewhat guiltily) wondering if Daredevil’s suit struggled to contain his muscles the same way Matt’s suits struggled to contain his . . .

Something touched your thigh. You jumped before realizing it was just Trouble putting one of his paws on your leg. Probably looking for attention. You reached down to start petting him, scratching him behind the ears. Which he seemed to enjoy, purring as he crawled onto your lap. You were easily tempted away from your mystery.

“You’re a total lap cat, aren’t you?” you asked. Your only answer was louder purring.

You were starting to feel almost sleepy, sitting here with a purring cat in your lap. Especially on a day like this, gray and unusually quiet for New York. Which made the notification chime from your phone inordinately loud. Checking it required disturbing Trouble. Which he made very clear that he didn’t like.

“I know, I know, you were comfortable,” you said, checking the notifications. Mostly text messages from friends and family making sure you were okay. You had just sent off a couple of replies when you caught something out of the corner of your eye.

Looking away from your phone, you peered at the suit. What . . . oh. There was something inside the crumpled suit, a bit of fabric peeking out. Curious, you sat down your phone and touched it. Silk. You gave it a gentle tug and the cloth came out.

Immediately, you felt your face flush again. It was underwear. Specifically a pair of men’s black boxers. Black silk boxers. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen wore black silk boxers. For reasons you couldn’t really explain, this made you giggle.

The universe was a peculiar place. One where a blind defense attorney and a vigilante had interesting things in common. They both liked silk. They wear the same cologne. And estimating from the suit, Daredevil and Matt were the same height and had a similar build.

And apparently knew a lot of the same people. Matt carried a lot of the same business cards, personally knew the owners. Though you were a little unclear on how he had met some of them. Jessica Jones, you could see. She lived and worked in Hell’s Kitchen and her zero-tolerance policy for assholes often got her trouble with the cops. But the others were less clear . . . It didn’t help that when you had asked, the story you had gotten had been rather vague.

It wasn’t the only story where Matt, Foggy, and Karen got evasive. Another sign that there were secrets in the office of Nelson & Murdock. And not the normal client-confidentiality type secrets . . .

Glancing back at the suit, you noticed something else. Something you couldn’t believe you had missed. It didn’t look like it had been stripped off. None of the zippers or other fasteners were undone. You frowned, looking closely at it again. How could he have gotten it off without undoing any of the fasteners?

All thoughts of Daredevil were driven out of your head when Trouble let out a pained yowl. You snapped your head up to see him fall off the couch, writhing and twisting like he was having a seizure. You rushed toward him but then something weird happened. Trouble began to grow and swell, becoming bigger and bigger . . . body twisting and jerking the entire time . . . until what was laying on your floor wasn’t a cat. It was a man.

A very familiar man. Matt Murdock lay there, his body still twitching and spasming. His chest heaved and his forehead was beaded with sweat.

You couldn’t believe your own eyes. Had that really just happened? You pinched yourself. It hurt. So not a dream. You reached out and touched Matt’s shoulder. It was solid and warm under your hand. The muscles still twitching from . . . whatever that was. But gradually the twitching stopped and the tension in Matt’s jaw eased.

“Sorry,” he said. His voice was strained. “Didn’t want you to find out this way.”

Find out what? That he turned into a cat? Or . . . you looked at the suit. Then it clicked. All of the pieces suddenly made sense. Matt was Daredevil. The suit didn’t look like it had been stripped off because it hadn’t. The person wearing it had merely gotten much, much smaller.

“You’re Daredevil?” you asked, just to be sure.

“Yes.”

“And you turn into a cat?” you asked. You hoped not. He was a very cute cat but that transformation had looked like hideously painful.

His lips twitched into something like a smile. “Not usually. This was the first time.”

“Okay,” you said. You took a deep breath. Than another. Your boss was Daredevil. He had been turned into a cat. You had taken him to your apartment. He might have observed you having a dirty dream about him. This was fine. You were fine. Everything was fine.

Another breath. “Expected development?”

“No. Magic spell. I think.”

“Magic spell?” you repeated. “Like actual magic? You know, nevermind. Of course, magic is real. Why the hell not? We were invaded by aliens. There is a Norse God living uptown. Why wouldn’t magic be real?!”

You were babbling. But you couldn’t help it. It didn’t help that Matt was really smiling now. With the dimple and everything. Which had always left you flustered. Especially when combined with that fond look. Even if it almost immediately faded to something sober and tentative.

“Let me sit up and I’ll explain everything.”

“Okay,” you said. But as he started to push himself into a sitting position, you noticed something. Something that left you even more flustered. Matt was naked. Completely naked. Not a single stitch on him. You could see his . . . everything. Feeling your cheeks burn, you jerked back and whirled around to face the wall.

“Sweetheart?”

You felt your heart beat faster at the pet name. He had never called you that before. At work, he was entirely professional. And when you were at Josie’s or an outing, he just called you by your name.

“Clothes,” you said, feeling little frantic. You needed answers – to so many things – but you couldn’t have that conversation with him while he was naked. You would get . . . distracted. But none of your clothes would fit him . . . wait, the boxers! Where . . . you looked . . . there!

You scurried forward and snatched the boxers off the floor. Keeping your eyes firmly on his face, you went and dropped the underwear into what you hoped was his lap. “Your boxers. This isn’t a naked conversation.”

A soft huff of laughter. “No, it isn’t. Thank you, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart again? It wasn’t a slip of the tongue? Your cheeks couldn’t get any warmer but they sure tried.

You turned away again to give him some privacy while he dressed. For a given value of dressed. Considering it was only underwear. You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt and tried not to think about that. Or his . . . everything. You had limited success.

“I’m decent. You can look now.”

‘That’s debatable,’ you thought after you turned to face him. Yes, everything that needed covering was now covered. But the boxers fit him snugly enough that very little was left to the imagination. Not that you really needed your imagination anymore . . . . And that wasn’t even taking into account the rest of him.

You had known he had muscles. You just hadn’t realized he had quite so many muscles . . .

Matt realized that you had gotten distracted when it took a couple of times calling your name to get your attention. He was well aware that you were attracted to him but it was still gratifying to his ego to experience your body’s reaction to him. And the way the temperature and blood shifted to your face when you realized that you had been caught staring was rather cute.

But he soon sobered, remembering what you had just discovered. What he needed to explained. “Do you remember how I lost my eyesight?”

“I remember,” you said.

“Those chemicals didn’t just blind me,” he said. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He squared his shoulders, bracing himself for your inevitable reaction. Then he explained how his remaining senses had been enhanced to a superhuman degree. How he could hear everything happening around him, for several blocks. Further if he was focusing on someone he was familiar with. How he could very likely find Foggy, Karen, or you anywhere in this city if he needed to.

That his other senses were just as keen. Did his best to describe his world on fire. The others had poked fun of his metaphor but it was the best one he had found. He felt the usual frustration at not having the right words, the perfect words, to describe how he experienced the world. Words that help someone else understand his world without the misconceptions.

But such words didn’t seem to exist. He had to make do with the ones he had.

He took another deep breath, continuing in a very firm voice. “My senses do not change the fact that I cannot see. There are things my senses cannot tell me. Like what color anything is. Times when my world on fire isn’t as reliable as I would like such as when I’m tired or ill. My cane and other adaptive equipment aren’t props. I’m not pretending to be blind. I am blind.”

“Someone actually said that to you?” you said, sounding shocked. It was the first time you had spoken when he had started talking.

“Yes,” he said, trying not to remember how Foggy had spit out those words. Hardly the most painful thing that had been said that awful night . . . but the clear disgust in his voice had stayed with Matt for a long time . . .

“Who?” you demanded, your heartbeat sharply rising. He heard the shift of bone and muscle as your hands curled into fists. It was sweet that your first reaction was defend him. If it was completely unnecessary.

“Doesn’t matter,” Matt said, waving it off. “They didn’t really understand the explanation at first. Neither of us were in the right head space for the conversation. We’ve talked more since then and now they get it. And they apologized for that particular misunderstanding.”

You sighed.

You weren’t entirely surprised. Matt tended to be forgiving. Along with a rather concerning habit of ignoring or downplaying things when he was the one being treated poorly . . . And, as you silently reminded yourself, you didn’t know the whole story. That wouldn’t make what they said okay but it might make it understandable . . .

Regardless the decision to forgive or not to forgive was ultimately Matt’s, not yours. And he had obviously chosen to forgive whoever it was. Best to let it go and change the subject.

“Do you want some coffee?” you asked. “Or something else to drink?”

That bit of gravel in his voice might do all sorts of tingly stuff to your insides but he had been talking for a while. His mouth must be getting dry.

“As long you are making it anyway, coffee would be great,” Matt said.

“Coming right up,” you said and went into the kitchen. As you set up the coffee to brew, you did your best to process anything you had just learned.

Matt was Daredevil. It explained a lot. Foggy and Karen certainly knew. It was the only explanation for why they went along with Matt’s very obvious lies about how he had been injured. And why they didn’t seem . . . well, you couldn’t say that there was no concern. You had seen the pinched look of Foggy’s face when Matt was moving like it hurt him to breath. The worried, accessing look Karen gave particularly colorful bruises.

And yet, they had accepted every single one of his excuses from the plausible to the silly without question. Told you there was nothing to worry about when you expressed concern about Matt’s well-being. Even through sometimes neither looked like they really believed that . . .

Now you realized that they were concerned. It was just a different kind of concerned. Because they weren’t wondering how Matt kept getting hurt. They weren’t racking their brains trying to figure out who was hurting him or if all those worrying signs were related to some kind of health problem. Like maybe he was having seizures or something like that but was refusing to see the doctor . . .

But every theory you came up with kept hitting the wall for not being able to explain why Foggy and Karen didn’t seem to share your concerns. Why they clearly loved Matt but ignored that something troubling was obviously going on with him. . . . It hadn’t made any sense.

Now it did. Matt was Daredevil. They knew he was Daredevil. And knew his injuries were from fighting crime.

Matt had super senses. Which meant, you realized with a certain amount of horror, he had absolutely heard you moaning his name while touching yourself this morning. You buried your face in your hands with a soft groan. There was no hiding your non-platonic feelings anymore. The cat was out of the bag. Pun fully intended.

“What’s wrong?”

You jumped. You weren’t expecting his voice to be so close. He wasn’t crowding you or anything. His position by the edge of the counter that divided the kitchen from the living room was a couple feet away from where you were standing in front of the coffee pot. But you hadn’t heard him moving around. Apparently he didn’t need to be cat shaped to walk silently through walls.

“Sorry,” he said, though the little twitch of his lips belied that apology. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Somehow,” you said, willing your heart to slow back down. “I doubt that.”

“Do you?”

“I saw those lips twitch,” you pointed out. “You think making me jump is funny.”

“That is quite the accusation,” he said with mock seriousness. “Do you have any evidence?”

Using his courtroom voice was cheating. Especially when he was only wearing boxers. Pure cheating. You pulled out your stubborn streak, standing with your fists on your hips. “I know what I saw. I will not be fooled by your twisty-turny lawyer tricks into saying otherwise, Mr. Murdock.”

“That sounds like a challenge, sweetheart.”

The pet name said with that almost purring voice sent tingles down your spine. And brought renewed heat between your legs. Rather annoyingly the cocky smirk on his face did nothing to diminish that ardor. Maybe if he had been wearing more than boxers . . . or if he didn’t look so good half-naked . . .

A soft cough brought you back to the present. You felt your cheeks get warm again, realizing that you had been so busy staring at his abs that you hadn’t noticed him talking.

“Distracted?” he asked, a teasing grin spread wide across his face.

“No,” you said quickly, feeling the warmth in your cheeks intensify.

He hummed, tilting his head slightly to one side. “Lie.”

“What?”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that I can tell when someone is lying?” He said, feigning innocence. It wasn’t a very convincing performance. He was far too amused.

“No, that detail hadn’t come up yet,” you said. “How?”

“Mostly your heartbeat. It changes when someone is lying.”

Suddenly, something you had observed at the office now made sense. Your job was more on the reception and secretarial side but sometimes you acted as their paralegal. When acting in that role, you had seen Foggy subtly nudge Matt who would give a little shake or nod of his head. You hadn’t know what to make of it at the time. Now you realized that Foggy was checking to see if their client or whoever else they were interviewing was telling the truth.

When you asked about your theory, Matt was quick to confirmed it. A moment later, the coffee finished brewing. You pulled down the two mugs, then doctored them to each of your coffee preferences.

“You seem to be taking this rather well,” he remarked, after taking a sip of his coffee.

You shrugged. “It’s not that surprising once I started thinking about it.”

“It’s not?”

“No.”

Matt chuckled. “What, you didn’t believe that I got that black eye tripping over a curb?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Come on, I thought that one was very plausible.”

“Only for someone who doesn’t know you,” you said. “Or your friends pretending for the sake of your secret identity.”

He laughed. “Fair enough.”

You drank more of your coffee, enjoying the comfortable quiet. To avoid getting distracted by his half-naked body again, you kept your eyes on his face. Which probably wasn’t the best plan. Matt’s handsome face was a distraction in its own right. Especially when he wasn’t wearing his dark glasses. It wasn’t the first time you had seen him without them but the sight always pleased you. It meant Matt trusted you. Not with all of his secrets, obviously, but enough that he didn’t feel the need to hide himself.

Along with those lovely hazel eyes, there were further delights. The generous mouth, good cheekbones and that strong jaw dusted with facial hair. Heavily dusted today. He hadn’t shaved lately. So he had the very start of a beard. You had never seen Matt with a beard. You bet that he would look good with one . . .

“Penny for your thoughts?” Matt said, interrupting your attempts to imagine him with a beard.

“Nothing important,” you said. “Just noticed you hadn’t shave lately and was idly wondering if you were growing a beard.”

Matt made a thoughtful humming sound. “It is tempting this time of year but they get so itchy during the summer.”

“That sounds like the voice of experience,” you said.

“It is,” he said. “Wore one for a couple years during college. Shaved it off just after starting L1.”

“Any particular reason why?” you asked, making a mental note to ask Foggy if he had any pictures of bearded Matt. You needed to see them. For science. Or something.

“An especially muggy day in August when the air conditioners decided to stop working. And the girl I was seeing at the time liked me clean-shaven. Said my beard was too rough when I kissed her.”

A salacious grin spread across his face. “Among other activities.”

“Did she?” you said, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. Because your mind had immediately become consumed with imagining the delicious contrast between prickly beard on your thigh while his soft lips . . . warmth flooded your cheeks.

You saw Matt’s nostrils flare. Then the tip of his tongue slipped out to run across his lips. He made a soft moan that went straight to your cunt. It was impossible not to get worked up. Not with those images in your head. Not with that sound. You were equally unable to stop your breath from hitching as he stepped closer. And closer, stopping just shy of touching you.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked. His voice had always done things to you but that huskier timber really made you shudder. There was only one answer you could give.

“Yes.”

And he was kissing you. Gentle at first, a delicate press of the lips with your head cradled in his hands. But it didn’t remain that way for long. Not after all those months of pent-up desire. Now that you didn’t have to resist kissing him, you all but devoured his mouth.

Matt matched your eagerness, seemingly just hungry for your mouth as you were his. Even the need for air barely kept your lips apart. The entire world might as well have disappeared. You were aware of nothing else. Only that mouth kissing you and greedily swallowing every moan you made. Only those large, warm hands sliding down your body, skimming the sides of your breasts until coming to rest on your hips. Only his body against yours. The edge of the counter digging into your back barely even registered.

At least to you. Matt made some grumpy-sounding noise, then his hands were gripping your hips and lifting you up onto the counter. Your startled yelp turned into a moan when he slot himself between your legs. Any lingering doubts you had about him finding you physically attractive were dispelled at the feeling of his growing erection rubbing against your core. You couldn’t contain a second louder, stuttered moan. Even with too many clothes in the way, it felt incredible . . .

“If you want me to stop,” he rumbled, nuzzling your neck. “Tell me to stop. Tell me no.”

“Don’t stop,” you said, your voice dangerously close to begging. But you didn’t care. You had wanted this for so long. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t, sweetheart. Not unless you want me to.” he said, then one hand abandoned its place on your hip to tug lightly at your shirt. “May I?”

“Yes, yes,” you said, rising your arms to help Matt pull off your shirt. Despite the heater chugging away, your skin still immediately pebbled. Your nipples had already tightened into peaks. You kissed him again as your shirt was tossed . . . somewhere. You weren’t paying attention to your shirt. All of your attention was Matt and the hungry, almost feral look on his face.

Matt ran his hands over your body, exploring every inch of bare skin from the tips of your fingers to the waistband of your sweatpants. So soft, even softer than he had dreamed. Keeping his hands to himself the next time you were at work was going to take some serious self-discipline. He blazed a trail of kisses down your neck until he found a spot that had you shuddering.

There, he applied little nips and lathed at the skin until he was satisfied there would be a mark. One that by happy coincidence should peek out from behind the collar of your work blouses. Good. That should let any would-be suitors know that you were taken. It was selfish but he didn’t want share this delightfully soft skin with anyone.

Or how responsive you were. He greedily took in all your reactions. The dancing rhythm of your heart. The breathy moans as his mouth continued its downward journey. The gasps when he started lapping at one peaked nipple while squeezing the other breast in his hand. The way you cried out his name when he latched onto that nipple and sucked. The way you arched your back, begging for more. How your nails bit into his shoulder when he obliged, swirling his tongue around the hardened nipple. The whines when he removed his mouth from that breast . . . and how it turned into a wordless cry when he gave the other breast the same attention.

Best of all, the scent of your arousal soaking through your panties. All because of him. You smelled just as sweet as you had been this morning. Only this time he wasn’t a cat. Soon, he would be on his knees. Soon, his face would be buried in that wonderfully drenched pussy . . .

Soon . . .

You were burning. A fire that Matt had lit, then steadily built with his hands and mouth until you burned with need. An urgency that the man himself didn’t seem to feel. He moved at a speed that could be best described as languid.

“M-matt,” you whined.

“Yes?” he asked, lifting his head from your breast. Seeing his lust-darkened eyes and kiss-swollen lips made the growing ache in your cunt worse. “What does my sweet girl need?”

My sweet girl . . . . Your cunt clenched desperately around nothing. “Need you.”

“Gotta be more specific than that,” he said. “Tell me what you want.”

You were half naked on your kitchen counter and fully ready to have sex with this man and yet somehow that question still managed to fluster you. “Maattt.”

“I’m not a mind reader, sweetheart. You have to tell me what you want,” he said, sounding almost conversational. But his voice was too husky, his eyes too hungry, for that. The way his thumbs rubbed the skin just about the waistband of your sweatbands was another dead giveaway.

Your mouth opened, then closed.

“No need to be shy, sweet girl,” he continued, pausing to give another little nip to the top of your right breast. A spot that you hadn’t realized that so sensitive until he started lavishing it with attention. “No one but me will hear you.”

Biting your bottom lip, you considered that. He was right. It was just you and him. And you trusted him . . . Maybe you should start with something simple?

“My pants and underwear,” you said, managing to keep your voice steady. “I want them off.”

The smirk he flashed you was all kinds of wicked. “As you wish.”

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants and started tugging it down. Along with your panties. In a sharp contrast to his earlier leisurely pace, he quickly yanked down the clothes and tossed them aside. Like with your shirt, you found yourself too distracted to notice or care where your clothes went.

Matt gripped your knees and spread your legs wide. He then sank down to his knees, shifting forward until he was tantalizingly close to where you desperately wanted him. The sight once again had your cunt clenching around nothing. A deep rumble, almost like a growl, erupted from him. It matched the feral expression spreading across his face.

“Tell me what you need,” he demanded, his voice a growl full of gravel. You shuddered. You had never heard him speak like that. But it worked you up just as much as his courtroom voice. His hands tightened on your thighs. “My fingers?”

He lifted one hand away from your leg, then ran a single thick finger through your folds. You gasped when that finger brushed over your clit, then groaned with disappointment when that fleeting touch was all you got. Then felt your mouth go dry when he raised the finger to his mouth and licked off your slick. Especially when Matt let out a low moan, briefly closing his eyes in clear pleasure.

“Or my mouth,” Matt continued. You gasped when he leaned forward and gave the entire length of your cunt a single lick. You tried to lift your hips but Matt’s hands clamped down on your thighs and pinned you down to the counter.

“Matt!” you pleaded but the grip on your legs remained firm.

“Tell me,” He said, then blow a puff of air against your desperate cunt. He nuzzled your inner thigh, his rough stubble sending sparks down your spine. “What does this beautiful pussy want?”

“Maatt.”

“Tell me, sweet girl.” He kissed your inner thigh. Then another kiss. It rapidly became clear that your desperate cunt wasn’t going to get the attention it wanted unless you said the words.

“Matt!”

“Tell me.”

“Your mouth,” you begged. “Please, I need – fuck!”

Matt did another long, slow lick up your entire slit. After a teasing swipe across your clit, he turned his attention to your soaked entrance. There he lapped with soft, little licks which were obscenely loud. Like he was messily eating an ice cream cone. One that he clearly enjoyed, making a low noise that sounded remarkably like purring. The vibration contributed to making your own, much louder moans. Instinctively you tried to squirm but his hands kept you right where he wanted you. You could feel that familiar pressure start to build.

He pulled away. No! You started to protest but was cut off by Matt lifting your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. Then his mouth was back on you, his tongue circling your entrance before slipping inside you. Your hands scrambled for something to hold onto as his tongue fucked into you again and again

That something ended up being Matt’s hair. But he didn’t seem to mind, rewarding every tug on the hair twisted tightly in your fingers with a loud groan. Then his tongue slipped out of you, switching its attention to your clit. You cried out. He altered between teasing licks and stronger lapping as you chanted his name.

Matt wrapped his lips around your little bud and sucked. You almost screamed. Your legs began to tremble as you started hurling toward your peak. Then he thrust two thick fingers inside you. Your thighs squeezed his face between them. Close, you were so close . . . then his fingers curled. You fell over the edge calling out his name.

Your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers. Fingers that continued to work you through your orgasm. His mouth remained latched onto your clit, sending wave after wave of white-hot pleasure. Only you started to whimper from oversensitivity did he lift away from your clit. He withdrew his fingers, replacing them with his mouth. You let out warbling moan as he noisily lapped at your entrance.

By the time he pulled away, you were a limp puddle on your own kitchen counter. Despite your recent orgasm, your cunt clenched again. Because Matt looked thoroughly debauched. His hair mussed, eyes half-lidded, those pink lips swollen and glistening with your slick. While you watched, his tongue slide out and slowly licked it off.

Matt knew you were watching him. It was obvious from the way your heartbeat sped up. The hitch in your already heavy breathing. The fresh slick dripping out of your cunt, even more tempting now that he knew just how sweet you tasted. He settled for the slick clinging to his two fingers, putting them in his mouth and sucking them clean. Not as nearly as good as getting it directly from your cunt but the strangled groan you made watching him do it was its own reward.

Fingers now clean, he carefully lowered your legs from his shoulders and rose to his feet. Matt heard you shifting, pushing yourself back into an upright position. Then, your hands reached out and tugged his head down to kiss him. You moaned into his mouth at the taste of yourself.

But you didn’t stop there. Your hands leisurely made their way down his torso until you reached his boxers. Your fingers dipped under the waistband, then hesitated.

“May I?” you asked.

“Please,” he answered, eager to see what you would do.

Permission granted, you peeled his boxers down. His cock eagerly sprang free of its confines. As Matt finished pushing his boxers off, you felt a tinge of nerves. His cock hadn’t looked small during your brief glimpse earlier. But it had been flaccid then. Now that his cock was fully erect, you realized he was rather more . . . impressive than you had first thought. Or even imagined and Past You had been rather hopeful that he had a big dick . . .

“Sweetheart?”

The clear concern in Matt’s voice had your head snapping up. He was frowning at you, his brow furrowed with worry.

“You know you don’t have do anything, right?” he asked, his tone deadly serious. “If you want to stop right now, we will.”

“No,” you said, rapidly shaking your head. “I want to.”

He frowned, his head titling slightly to one side. Listening, you realized. Doing his human lie detector thing. “But?”

“I’m just a little nervous,” you said, tapping your fingers against your bare thigh.

“Why?” he asked.

You felt your cheeks warm. “It’s . . . um . . . you’re . . . ah . . . bigger. Than any . . . of my exes.”

“Is that so?” Matt looked distinctly smug. “I can be gentle. But if you’d like to wait –”

“No,” you interrupted. Because nerves wasn’t your only reaction to seeing his cock. Feeling suddenly bold, you reached over and wrapped your hand around his cock. And feel another tinge of nerves and anticipation at realizing that Matt wasn’t just long, he was thick. You started stroking him, slowly adjusting the firmness of your grip as you watched the reactions on his face. He moaned, his hands finding their way back to your hips.

You noted, with a certain amount of satisfaction, that he looked a lot less smug now.

Feeling more confident, you continued, “I don’t want to wait. I want this.” Your thumb swiped across the tip, smearing the weeping pre-cum. His hips jerked and out of his mouth came a beautiful groan that you immediately wanted him to make again. “Inside me.”

His hands tightened on your hips. That feral look was creeping back in. “I don’t – ah – have a condom.”

“Don’t want one,” you said. You knew it was a dumb thing to do. Reckless. But you were tired of all of the barriers that had been separating the two of you. The thought of another one just rubbed you the wrong way.

Your hand slide off of his cock. A faint whine escaped his throat. Tempting you to put your hand back. But it felt . . . coercive . . . to be giving him a handjob while asking him if he wanted a condom after you had just made it clear that you didn’t want one. Especially since you knew Matt had a people-pleasing streak.

“But I, um, have a box of condoms in my bedroom. If you’d rather wear one,” you offered, feeling renewed warmth in your cheeks. It had been an impulse purchase during one of those rare periods when you were both determined to tell him your feelings and confident it would go well . . . only to chicken out once you were actually in front of Matt.

“I don’t think many man would rather wear one,” he said. “As long as you were sure . . .”

“I am.”

“Okay,” he said. “When did you buy these condoms?”

There was a peculiar note in his voice. He sounded almost . . . jealous? But that couldn’t be right. Why would Matt be jealous?

“Last month,” you said. “Past Me, um, had a moment where she, ah, . . . was very confident that you’d agree to a date? And that sex might happen afterward?”

A smile spread across his face. “Past You would have been right. Past Matt would have agreed in a heartbeat.”

“What about Current Matt?” you asked, daring to hope.

“Current Matt agrees with Past Matt,” he said. “I would love to go on a date with you.”

Your heart gave a leap. “You would?!”

“Of course,” he said, utterly matter of fact. Like he was stating something obvious. The sky is blue. Grass is green. Matt Murdock wanted to go on a date with you. “I’ve wanted to ask you for a while.”

“Why didn’t you?” you asked.

“In part because you didn’t know about Daredevil,” he said. “Not telling a one-night stand is one thing. Not telling my girlfriend is something else.”

“Girlfriend?” you repeated.

“Yes,” he said. “If you would like to be.”

“I would like that,” you said, smiling.

“Good,” he said. Then he suddenly laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“All the ways I pictured asking you to be my girlfriend,” Matt said. “Standing in your kitchen naked wasn’t one of them.”

“Me neither.” You giggled. “We’ve done this all topsy-turvy.”

“We have,” he agreed. “Normally, I’d take you to dinner before burying my face in your sweet cunt.”

The reminder sent fresh arousal pooling between your legs. Despite that toe-curling orgasm, that particular body part was eager for more. A desire that only increased when his pink tongue darted out to slowly lick his lips. Then he made another soft moan. The same soft moans he had made while eating you out . . . your heart raced as something finally clicked together in your mind.

“Can you taste, um, . . ?” you trailed off, feeling your cheeks burn. You couldn’t say it.

“How wet that pussy is for me?” Matt said, his eyes darkening. “Yes. Having my mouth on you is better but from the air, the aroma of it, is still . . . intoxicating.”

Part of you was embarrassed. Especially when you thought about this morning, that Matt hadn’t just heard you touching yourself. But another, larger part of you was powerfully turned on. There was something very hot about knowing that just the taste of you, the smell of you, was putting that hungry look on his face.

You squirmed. Then something else occurred to you. “Technically you have taken me to dinner many times.”

“Very true,” Matt said, then chuckled. “Foggy has been saying that we’ve been dating for months.”

“Karen said the same thing,” you said. “Maybe they are right?”

“Definitely,” Matt said. “And we’ve been idiots.”

“Total idiots,” you agreed, then pulled him down for another kiss.

You could still faintly taste yourself in his mouth. Before you knew it, your hands were buried in his hair. Matt used his grip on your hips to pull you over to the counter’s edge. He pressed himself against you. Despite the intervening conversation, he was still hard. Feeling himself grind his cock against your cunt had felt good before. But now? Without any clothes in the way? It stoked that banked fire inside you into an inferno.

You wanted . . . no, you needed him. You didn’t care that you were in your kitchen. You needed that cock filling your achingly empty cut. You needed him to fuck you stupid.

“Matty,” you whimpered, breaking away from the kiss. “Need you.”

“What do you need, sweet girl?” He rumbled against your throat. “What does your pretty pussy need?”

This time you didn’t hesitate. “Needs your cock. Needs you to fuck me.”

He growled. You expected him to line himself up, to start fucking you right then and there. Instead he shifted his grip to your thighs and lifted you off the counter. Startled, your hands abandoned his hair in favor of his shoulders to steady yourself as he carried you out of the kitchen. Given the small size of your apartment, it didn’t take to figure out where he was taking you.

Sure enough, soon he was lowering you down onto your bed. He kissed you deeply as his knees encouraged your legs wider. Not that you needed much encouragement. He grinded against you, coating his cock in your slick. Sparks raced down your spine every time the head nudged your clit. It was so good. It was not enough. Your cunt clenched desperately around nothing.

“Stop teasing me,” you begged. “Please . . . fuck me.”

Which was apparently all he needed to hear. Matt took himself in hand, lining himself up with your entrance. Then, finally, he was inside you. You gasped, nails digging into his back. It was just the tip of him but the stretch was noticeable. Despite the clear hunger on his face, he didn’t move. Stayed right where he was while your cunt fluttered around him until you were ready for more. Slowly, he pressed in deeper and deeper. Until his cock was fully sheathed inside you.

You felt so good. So deliciously full. No one had ever filled you like this. Then Matt started to move, gently rocking his hips into you. Pleasure washed over you with each back and forth movement of his cock so deep inside you. You couldn’t stop moaning. You could feel yourself climbing back toward that precipice.

“Taking me so well,” Matt said, then groaned when your cunt clenched around him at the praise. “Ready for more, sweetheart?”

Your answer was another stuttered moan.

“Words, sweet girl. I need words.”

“More,” you managed to moan out. “More. Mo-”

You were cut off by sharp snap of his hips. His first real thrust into you. You cried out wordlessly. Cries that only got louder as the thrusts got faster and deeper. Instinctively, your hips began to move. You thought he couldn’t get any deeper. You were wrong. As soon as you matched his rhythm, you felt him sink just a little further inside you.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Matt grunted. “Just like that.”

Matt was always handsome. But there was something indescribably beautiful about how he looked now. The pull and flex of his muscles as he moved in and out of your body. Skin kissed with sweat. Hair, a fluffy chaotic mess. His face, for once, with no sign of worry or stress. Just pure pleasure. The grunts and moans spilling out of his mouth with each thrust only added to the beatific vision on top of you.

Your climax had been steadily building but now you were teetering on that edge. Just a little bit more . . .

Matt must have sensed it somehow because his next thrust was slower but impossibly deep and hard. You gasped, your back arching. He did it again. Your body began to shake, toes curling . . . Close, you were so close . . .!

“Matty,” you whimpered.

“Let it go, sweetheart,” Matt grunted. “Cum on my cock.”

Another impossibly deep thrust and you did.

Matt groaned as your cunt gripped his cock tightly as you cried out his name. He never stopped moving, drawing out your orgasm until you were a babbling, shaking mess underneath him.

Only then did he start chasing his release. He pumped into you hard and fast, his entire world narrowed down to you. The delightful pain of your nails raking up and down his back. Your heart pounding in his ears. The guttural noises you made as he fucked you. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet squelch of your cunt as he moved in and out . . . you were so fucking wet. All for him. Because of him.

He wasn’t going to last much longer. Not with the way your cunt kept clamping down on his cock like a vice. Feeling his balls start to draw up, he tried to withdraw. He intended to release himself on your stomach. But you loudly protested, back arching and frantic hands grabbing his ass in a bid to him keep inside you.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you begged. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Gonna cum,” he managed to grit out.

Your hands only gripped his ass tighter. “Cum inside me. Wanna feel it.”

Truth. “Sweetheart.”

“Matty, please.”

That did it. He couldn’t resist your begging. With one last hard thrust, he buried his cock deep inside you and came.

Breathing hard, it was tempting to collapse on top on you. But he couldn’t. He was too heavy. He carefully pulled out of you and collapsed next to you. Still catching his breath, he gathered you in his arms, pressing your back against his chest. Perfect. Matt liked a good cuddle afterward. Didn’t understand what some men had against it. Your soft, naked body against his, smelling like sex and his pheromones? Yes, please.

For a moment, Matt attributed your little restless movements as simply getting comfortable. But quickly he realized that wasn’t entirely it. He reached between your legs. Felt you jolt when his fingers found your clit. Then moaned as he started rubbing gentle circles. You were already very sensitive. It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak again.

Matt buried his nose in the back of your neck. In a little while, he’d need to get up and get a washcloth. Clean up the mess he had made between your legs. But not right now. Right now, he was just going to enjoy having you in his arms.

The storm broke that night, after dumping almost ten feet of snow on the Big Apple. The powers that be had crews out clearing the streets and restoring downed power lines bright and early the next morning but it took several days to get the city fully up and running again.

You and Matt weren’t trapped in your apartment the entire time. Just a couple days. Despite the fact that neither of you were used to living with anyone, it was . . . comfortable. You cooked together in your tiny kitchen without much trouble. He did his share of the housework without prompting or complaint. You discovered during the brief power outage that, in addition to being a lie detector, Matt was a human furnace. Also that he was cuddler.

Once his phone was charged enough, Matt called Foggy and let him know that he wasn’t dead. He made Matt put him on speaker-phone so he could tell you both ‘I told you so.’ A sentiment echoed by Marci and Karen. Among many, many others.

The sex continued to be mind-blowing. And frequent. Because you both were having a hard time keeping your hands to yourselves. A shower became Matt fingering you, then fucking you against the wall. Watching a movie turned you kneeling between his legs, taking his cock into your mouth. Blissful Puddle was a very good look on him.

By time Daredevil slipped out of your window on the third night, your cunt had been given quite the workout and you had lost track of your orgasms.

Life went back to normal. Well, as normal as dating a vigilante could be. You worked. Matt saved people, in and out of the courtroom. You and Matt still went on your outgoings together, only with a lot more hand-holding and kissing. And often followed by enthusiastic sex in either your places or his. Matt quickly fulfilled his promise to introduce you to his silk sheets. You were very happy.

Tonight as you headed up to Matt’s apartment, you were filled with curiosity. Matt told you that he had a surprise. Then you reached his door, he pulled his usual trick of opening the door just as you raised your hand to knock. Just to make you jump.

“Having fun, Trouble?” you asked, entering the apartment.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he denied. But his eyes were too filled with mirth to make his protests believable.

“Lie.”

His lips twitched. But you were distracted away from whatever smartass remark that was about to come out of his mouth by movement behind Matt. You looked and to your surprise, it was a cat. A little brown-and-gray tabby standing in front of the slightly ajar bedroom door, its tail curled into a question mark.

“When did you get a cat?”

“I didn’t,” Matt said. “You did.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, assuming you want her.” He smiled. “I promise this one wouldn’t turn into a vigilante.”

“Certain of that?” You asked. The question was only partially teasing. The recent events had only cemented your desire for another feline companion. But, as much as you were happy with how things had worked out, starting to get attached to a cat only to discover that you couldn’t keep it wasn’t fun.

“Very. According to my magic expert, she’s just a cat.”

You filed away ‘magic expert’ as something to pester him about later. “Where did you find her?”

“Dumpster,” Matt answered, his expression turning grim. “Inside a knotted pillowcase.”

You stared at him in horrified disbelief. Not at Matt’s story. You believed him. But at the sheer cruelty. You knew people could be cruel. You weren’t that naive. But it still shocked you.

“Someone actually did that?”

“They did.” His voice reflected the same anger, the same horror, you were feeling. “Not the first time I’ve found something like that. Wouldn’t be the last.”

He took a deep breath. Visibly reigned in his temper, saving it for the streets or the heavy bag. “Normally I take the animals to an all-night shelter but they’re full right now. They’d still find somewhere for her with one of their fosters or something . . . but I found this one by the same dumpster where you found me. So I thought, maybe it was a sign.”

You smiled. The cat redistribution system at work. And that was that. The cat was officially yours.

You named her Blizzard.

END NOTES

Gordian knot is a legendary knot that became a metaphor for an intractable problem solved by bold stroke. Or in this particular case, one which Matt and Foggy dearly wish they could solve with one bold stroke.

That red light/red lenses thing comes from Wikipedia so treat it with the appropriate level of skepticism.

In Nelson vs Murdock, Foggy had every right to be hurt and angry with Matt. But even if it was deserved, doesn’t make what he said less painful to Matt. Personally, I think Foggy had hit that point of angry-hurt where you just want the other person to feel as badly as you do. And since Foggy is Matt’s best friend, he knows exactly which words will hurt the most. Moreover, I think he was too upset that tonight to really absorb Matt’s explanation about his senses. Hence some of his caustic comments during Season 2.

I have no proof that this incarnation of Matt has ever worn a beard. But shh, we’re having fun here.

It is my understanding that New York City during August is not only hot but miserably humid.

#fan fiction #fan fic #daredevil #mcu daredevil #netflix daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock smut #cat man do #ao3 link

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emp-t-man · 8 months ago

Text

eiffel and minkowski are often perceived (either by the other characters of the podcast or its audience, but mostly by each other) as the lazy slacker who sucks at his job and the competent go-getter who’s the best at what she does, and yet neither of these things are true. i think one of my favorites of their parallels is they are both exceptionally good at what they do, and yet they both constantly suffer from doubts about their own abilities. they just have completely different ways of going about this insecurity, and that’s what creates this stigma about them.

eiffel has proven time and time again that he absolutely knows what he’s doing in his field. He’s extremely protective over his equipment, he knows exactly what to do when it doesn’t work ninety nine percent of the time, the man made two way radios from old audio recorders, for christ’s sake, not to mention the way he was able to figure out how to survive for months in the middle of deep space completely by himself. but one of his most fatal flaws is that he doesn’t believe he knows what he’s doing. his self hatred and insecurity run so deep that the moment he believes he’s not cut out for something, he stops trying entirely. he sees people like minkowski doing such a good job in their position, that when people like that tell him he’s incapable of doing the same, he believes it, because he never believed in himself, anyway. i think the most obvious example of this is after the season one finale, when he learns about the decima project. the minute he learns that being an officer of communications wasn’t his only purpose on that mission, he comes to the conclusion that he doesn’t serve that purpose at all. he resolves that he was simply an “experimental meatbag”, chosen for the mission because he had absolutely nothing else going for him. he’s so quick to dismiss his worth and his capabilities, and so he leans into this persona of a good for nothing procrastinator to avoid letting his peers down by never letting them form expectations of him in the first place. of course, he isn’t perfect, he is a bit of a procrastinator and a scatterbrain, but that’s far from all he is.

minkowski on the other hand, she’s constantly praised for all of her achievements and hard work, be it by goddard, by her students, her superiors, lovelace, and especially eiffel in the later seasons. she’s seen as strong, and resilient, and an excellent leader. but the thing is, she also constantly doubts her own ability. this can also be seen during the season one finale, where she apologizes to eiffel because she describes hera’s deactivation and hilbert’s mutiny as her own fault, because she wasn’t a good enough commander to prevent it. but the thing about her is when she starts to doubt her capability, she works overtime to try and prove herself and anyone else who may doubt her wrong, which is also unhealthy! it happens with the plant monster, when she continuously risks her own life just to prove to herself that she can have the slightest bit of control over a situation. it happens during pan-pan, where she attempts to keep the stress fractures in the station a secret and handle them on her own because she wants to be able to protect the lives and morale of her crew the way a “good commander” should! instead of giving up and saving herself the disappointment if ever she should fail, she does the complete opposite, working herself to the bone and obsessing over every detail to make sure she doesn’t fail, no matter what it takes.

now here’s the kicker— after the events of desperate times / desperate measures, eiffel and minkowski completely swap coping mechanisms. when lovelace comes to, minkowski almost immediately asks her to assume the position of commander in her place, because she thinks that the loss of lives means that she completely failed her objective and isn’t fit for the role. her stepping down is essentially giving up in her eyes, because why hold such an important position if you’re no good at it? meanwhile, in episode fifty two, after eiffel gets called out on his, while without malicious intent, inconsiderate and distasteful behavior, he completely withdraws from the rest of the crew in order to work extremely hard on his own tasks, ultimately risking his and the rest of the crew’s life in order to prove he can be useful. sounds familiar, right?

but the thing is, they’ve each already spent so much time reverting to their original way of coping, that attempting the other’s method is immediately clocked as simply being concerning and out of character, rather than establishing them as the opposite archetype of being capable or not. lovelace expects minkowski to always resort to overachieving, but not because its a way to disprove her insecurity, but because it’s just “who she is”. so when she does the opposite, that’s when she realizes something is wrong, and resorts to comforting minkowski instead of simply letting her do what she’s elected to do. hera expects eiffel to laugh off any mistake he makes and go back to goofing off— not because it’s his way of avoiding disappointment from those he cares about, but because it’s just “who he is”. so when he does the opposite, focusing solely and intently on his duties where he was so comfortable neglecting them before, she realizes something is wrong. and when he explains to the rest of the crew that his actions are only to “help the only way he still can”, they realize something is wrong, and choose to comfort him rather than simply rolling their eyes and letting eiffel be eiffel.

it is. so incredibly late at night so i don’t know if this makes the sense i want it to make but i just. cannot get enough of how much they compliment and reflect each other. they seem to have nothing in common on the surface, but they fit together so well in terms of how they operate as people and i’m obsessed with it

#i will take every opportunity to talk about them ever #oh my god they were narrative foils #and they’re also in love #because i say so #wolf 359 #doug eiffel #renee minkowski #minffel

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hinatiny · 7 months ago

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plans ruined but that's okay ੈ✩‧₊˚ sugawara koshi

when you wake up to an unexpected storm, you realize you have to procrastinate everything you had scheduled on a particular saturday. nothing that can be helped, really, and sugawara is quite happy about that.

w.c: 0.6k

the rain is heavy outside, harshly pattering against the window, to the point it slowly begins to bring you out of your pleasant sleep. through blurry eyes and thin linen curtains, it’s hard to see it but it’s definitely pouring. you think about how the weather forecast last night must’ve been spitting bullshit, because you’re greeted by anything but the clear blue sky it had predicted—you quickly realize that everything on your to-do list for the day might as well be crossed out.

even though summer hasn’t even ended yet, there’s a slight chill in the air. when you sit up and the covers slide down your frame, it raises goosebumps on your skin. it’s humid too, making the room feel the slightest bit icky. you reach for the phone on the nightstand table, only briefly to check what time it is, and sigh upon seeing it’s just a few minutes past six.

still, you try to make the best of it. the weather might not be the ideal one what goes your now ruined plans, but there’s a sense of comfort in the sound of bulleting hail. in tune with flashes of light, occasional thunder reverberates between the clouds but you’re in the security of your home; the roaring it comes with only becomes another background noise. you’re not fully awake enough to prepare breakfast really yet, but the idea of having a warm beverage in the incoming storm is quite tempting. thinking about it, maybe it’s a good thing that you no longer can do any of the plans you had for today. maybe you don’t have to feel bad about going back to sleep for just a little longer.

the arm around your waist seems to agree.

its loose hold suddenly tightens and although the fingertips around your side barely press into your shirt, you soon find yourself pulled back to the sheets again. your head misses the pillows a terribly lot, but you can already tell it’s impossible to move in the grip you’re kept in. "suga, can i at least—"

"no." "at least hear me o—" "no, you’re going to get out of bed." "i just want my pillows." "..."

sugawara eases his arm around you, and you’re able to find the softness of the pillows. just as fast, you’re carefully hauled back to his chest. calm breaths warm your nape at an even pace. it’s not like there’s anything remotely close to danger around you but in this embrace, you feel safer than ever; like you’re meant to melt into each other, like two tangible halves of a complete serenity.

"can’t we just stay at home today?"

you chuckle at his suggestion, feeling a light tingle in your stomach when the chime of it makes him smile against your shoulder. "it’s not like we can do much in this weather." he mumbles, something you can’t hear properly but you guess it’s something close to a satisfied good. it really isn’t, considering how much there is to do, but the longer you stay in this peace, the less you can bring yourself to care. you let yourself relax into the sheets instead, into the reassuring hold around you. this is good too.

sugawara lies there no better than you. in fact, as unusual as it is for his routine-proper self, he cares even less than you do about… nearly everything. it’s saturday, your scheduled plans are ruined, there’s nothing you can do about it and he’s shamelessly glad about that. he’s satisfied with staying in bed for a while longer, maybe even for hours if not the entire day, because the tranquility of your closeness makes him feel like there’s no need to mind anything else.

"uh, suga… my plants are still on the balcony."

truly, anything else.

"i don’t care, let them drown."

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu scenarios #sugawara koshi #sugawara x reader

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diodellet · 4 months ago

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try wishing for it: magical girl au ~author's note~

warning for: Puella Magi Madoka Magica spoilers and more yandere headcanoning

Read the fanfic first before you spoil yourself on my rambling 😇

I did not expect to be able to transition from draft to posting that quickly for a fic of this length (or maybe it just felt faster because the stars aligned for my motivation and brainworms to work together? who knows)

Will I ever continue this AU? Maybe if I get clubbed in the head by more Scarabia brainworms, I might write oneshots/short scenes, but I don’t see myself writing for any of the other twst charas.

Anyways onto the ramblings galore:

Inspirations:

The verse that the fic’s title is ripped from goes: “Saying, ‘it’s like magic!’ / immersed in this sensation, even if I try wishing for it, / I know it’s nothing but playing with dolls //” (tl credits to Releska).

Tbh, analyzing poetry/song lyrics isn’t my biggest strength, but I know that Mahou Shoujo, as a genre, tends to touch on themes of adolescence like innocence vs. jadedness in the face of the real world and its many issues, just stepping into and growing out of adolescence as one of those uncomfortable transitions in life.

Stepping into young adulthood is scary, and most people my age don’t even know what the hell they’re doing. So for Reader, I gave them that highschooler-trying-to-be-capable-and-mature persona, with a tinge of anxieties that a young person would have.

*I’ll elaborate more on the Puella Magi inspirations in a later section, but yes, that was also a major inspiration for this fic

Vagueness:

Compared to my usual long-winded writing style, this fic ended up a bit more short and ambiugous in its prose. Partially because I didn’t want to procrastinate on writing this by rewatching my favorite Mahou Shoujo franchises.

(but also mainly because partial aphantasia lets gooo, detailed visuals are not my strong suit, I’m leaving Reader’s outfit and weapon blank for people to insert anything they’d like)

I mainly wanted to emphasize the character moments between Reader and Kyubey!Scarabia, which ended up becoming more conflicting and interesting than I initially drafted.

(It helps that Jamil is a shady guy, he set up the foreshadowing on his own. Kalim on the other hand, my god, maybe it's just me but I had a harder time characterizing. Why is he so loud and friendly, it makes his manipulation so much more covert grr)

Gold (and Red, I guess):

I lied, there was one visual aspect I wanted to highlight throughout the story, which were Scarabia’s trademark colors of gold and red. Anything gold mentioned in the fic is traced back to them. So every moment of Kalim and Jamil using magic, Reader’s magic, the bangle that Jamil gifts them, the wraith in the beginning having a (formerly) gold collar. (I would've added a description of something gold on each wraith, but I didn't want to be too heavy-handed with the repetition.)

(yes i had thoughts of jamil just giving them a golden collar…but ooo…held off on that instead, it could be a standalone what-if scenario…a corruption arc premise…ooo…someone remind me about this, i might forget)

I also mention jamil++the color red in this fic because I had to put Snake Whisper in, I can’t not 🙈

(that bit of kalim’s healing magic was me trying to make a reference to Oasis Maker, it feels a bit scuffed to me, but i don't think he’d ever get the urge to drown the world. truly sunshine boy's such a covert yandere it almost made me tear my hair out)

Kyubey!Scarabia, Some Difficulties and Omissions:

In Puella Magi, the little satanspawn named Kyubey is actually short for “Incubator,” who hails from an alien civilization tasked with preventing the heat death of the universe. Turns out the emotions of teenage girls is a very potent energy source. So he turns girls into magical girls to fight Witches and when those magical girls succumb to despair, they become the very thing that they fight against, producing vast amounts of energy for them to use.

(Though I changed it from ‘Witches’ to ‘Wraiths’ for this fanfic. I also did away with the Witches’ Labyrinth to lessen the amount of exposition. I jus think Witches work better in a visual medium.)

Another standout characteristic of Kyubey is his eerie sense of apathy to the characters’ suffering, which was Difficult to incorporate into Kalim since that guy’s got buckets of empathy. Until I realized that i could spin this into a kind of “warped” love.

Kalim loved each and every magical girl that he’s worked with, and of course he gets sad that they eventually become a wraith. But as an Incubator, his grieving is more akin to a rich person feeling sad over the death of a pet. He’s very quick to turn his attention to the next shiny thing (that’s you/Reader! Ain’t that great!🥴)

Also @jessamine-rose gave me this hc of Kalim amassing little trinkets from every magical fighter, like a ribbon accessory or a piece of their wand, collecting these little charms. Just, the idea of him saying that he’ll cherish Reader’s own treasure, and the way that could go from reassuring to chilling. (now i’m spreading that hc to yall instead of pingponging it in my brain😇)

On the idea of Jamil and love, I think he just loves holding power over magical girls #MegalomaniacThingz (ignore that growing fondness in the fever scene, he was just playing the part of helpful familiar or sumn /shrug)

There's definitely room for some kind of intense fascination to reader, knowing that they surprised him with their resilience. Yeah sorta like Tokyo Mew Mew's Ichigo and Quiche...

(i was crying so hard at having to axe forehead kissies for the second time, but it was a necessary omission😔)

Misc. Extras:

As a palate cleanser, just imagine plush ball!jamil carrying a plastic bag twice his size… (i was struggling with the dialogue during that fever scene, this was how i kept myself from spiraling too far)

In line with the genie of the lamp story, Kyubey!Scarabia gets the three wishes for their magical girls, with the third wish eventually corrupting the magical girl into a wraith.

I guess the other dorms would have something unique for the magical girls that they create? (not having wi-fi for the past few days gave me some half-baked ideas)

Like Heartslabyul imposing a rigid set of rules on their magical girls, which are of course rigged against the inherently flawed nature of humans and their emotions.

Savanaclaw and Pomefiore are similar, you fight until you can’t. Or in Pome’s case, you fight until you become an unrecognizable monster.

I imagine that Octavinelle and Ignihyde are the most similar to the original Kyubey of Puella Magi. You make a wish, fight the wraiths, reap the consequences of a wish, and eventually succumb to the vicious system they have laid out. Only Octavinelle’s version is Sayaka Miki-core, while Ignihyde’s plays out like a video game-ified version of Hercules’ trials. (Also, Ignihyde deffo keeps a compendium of each magical girl and wraith).

For Diasomnia, it could kinda follow Sleeping Beauty's plot, where there's a curse that the magical girl has to work against, while being aided with blessings from the fairies/Malleus' retinue (tho in this case, i guess Malleus ends up being revealed as the one creating the wraiths?)

tl;dr: This fic was so fun to write, I can almost forgive the usual agonies that plague me. I'm a writer who heavily prefers soft worldbuilding. Scarabia makes me so ill.

tagging: @viperwhispered @twstgo

#dellet-writings #jamil viper x reader #kalim al asim x reader #scarabia x reader #twst x reader #yandere kalim al asim #yandere jamil viper #twst #twisted wonderland x reader

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endereies · 9 months ago

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RIDE OR DIE

Spotify Playlist:

Pairing: Matt x Reader

Contains: Switch!Matt x Reader (idk you decide), illegal car races, riding, no protection (be smart kids), nicknames - baby, angel, small use of y/n, hickies, praise kink if you squint, dont like dont read

Requested?: no

Author's notes: This took a lil too damn long and im sorry, i had a mini session of writers block and heavy procrastination sooo. But thank you @raysmayhem-72 for helping me w this, it wouldnt of been posted otherwise. Enjoy!

Word Count: 4777

His favourite part was the adrenaline. The roars of the engines barely made his breathing audible, alongside the high from the illegality.

Matt used racing as a way to settle any disputes he had, this way there was no room for error. A clear winner. Most of the time these disputes were ones that Matt had created himself, only so that he could race again and again. The high he got from it was addictive.

These fights were petty and were as simple as a difference in opinion, racing for that better option.

However he never felt the need to prove himself to any strangers unplanned, road rage was never his thing. He preferred the races with crowds on the sides with line-ups of people daring enough to do the same.

His brothers never participated in these races but the same couldn’t be said about his best friend Nate, a brunette with the same itch to be behind the wheel. They were known for their impulsiveness to rival each-other any chance they got.

Common disputes were over girls, typically the flag girls at the start of each race. The pair would show up at events at times merely for the girls brave enough to stand between the two vehicles.

Sometimes these stemmed from pure boredom, no excuse for a fight either one can use, yet they couldn’t deter from it for that long. There was no time-limit for these races, no reason to rush for a winner.

No rules, no laws, especially no cops. Matt felt like he was born to race; everything about it felt right to him.

Matt never paid any attention to girls that started the races between him and Nate, he only acted for Nate’s sake. Nate talked a lot about the flag-girls, the ones he chose to stand between the pair or the ones he chose to take home. Matt never batted an eye to them, he never found the appeal.

Nate talked a lot about each girl after the races, the way their bodies moved in tune to the waving flags; the tight clothing that hugged their bodies, leaving little to the imagination and the attention they clearly craved.

The flirting was constant between most racers, the girls wanting a one night stand that would bag them some money from the recent races and the guys wanting a simple deposit from the excess of adrenaline.

Everything was built around impulse and need.

Matt leant against the bonnet of his car that was neatly wrapped in a baby blue shade, a faint glow emitted from inside where it had been laced with LED strips which managed to make the black console stand out. Before Matt could process his movements, Nate had slapped the back of his head lightly, gaining his attention. He scowled at his actions but only received a cocky wink from Nate instead whilst he stepped into his vehicle which was wrapped in its own toxic green.

Once Nate was settled in his car, Matt turned his own body to face his own vehicle, catching a glance of the girl stood in between the cars, hips cocked to the side.

He lingered his stare more than he should have which was evident by the wink the girl left behind aimed at him.

That’s when his body ran hot and his breath hitched and caught in his throat.

He let his eyes trace over her features, the way her skirt barely covered her ass, teasing him slightly; or the way that her skin was flaunted through the white fabric onto her chest. He couldn’t fail to notice the way her miniskirt matched the colours of his car all to well. Her platform’s shoes allowed her legs to show underneath the leg warmers that hugged her skin. He kept focusing on the leather jacket that he knew wasn’t to hide her chest, but instead to draw attention to it.

It was all easy access and they both knew that.

She pulled out two flags that were tucked into her belt with a identical checked pattern and smirked as she held them to her sides. She swayed her hips slightly, but it was enough for Matt to notice. Crowds of people cheered around them on the side-lines. Matt’s eyes glanced over to Nate’s trying to read him and he instantly knew he wanted her too. And for once he agreed.

But he needed to win.

He painfully watched as she mouthed ‘good luck’ through her pink lips, only thinking about how he could watch them hug his cock in her mouth. He groaned lightly at the thought, his eyes fluttering somewhat.

Nate’s engine roared beside his own, the red lights etched around the green wrap. Matt could only focus on the asphalt that laid before him, barely gravelled with worn. He smirked, knowing it would be a smooth ride.

Engines started to roar between the two which was followed by puffs of smoke from the ends of the cars. Lights above the two of them shone, highlighting the bold technicolour display of cars, the blue being enhanced with the red lights.

The girl raises an arm above her head, silencing the crowd harshly before swinging the fabric down. Instantly, the two cars jerk forward, speeding through the sudden changes of gear. Matt maintains eye contact with the girl as he pushes his car forwards.

Once out of his sight, Matt puts all his focus into his vehicle, listening to his exhaust roar with each spin of the wheel. Urgency was present on Matts face and he ensured with each turn that be would win. It grew harder to deter from that whenever Nate lacked in the quick reaction speeds that matt had, only making each curve in the track and advantage to Nate.

Matt was currently in the lead to win however, Nate wasn’t far behind with the sounds of his engine, familiarly close to him. The corners were Matt’s advantage but the straights were Nate’s, his car simply held the speeds longer.

Matt wanted this, no, needed this. He used every corner to its full capability and when he straightened his steering wheel, he knew it wasn’t out of his reach.

The finish line was barely in sight but Matt had one more drift he could use. The wheel spun hard and he changed gears quick as he switched gear, feeling the car shake slightly as it expels more smoke from the back tires.

In the last stretch, he maintains his lead and passes the sloppy finish line with a smirk plastered on his face.

His car came to a halt shortly after he processed his victory and left the car once it was put into park. People cheered among the sides as the pair narrowly cross the line but Matt is too caught up in the adrenaline rush to truly focus on it.

Nate couldn’t have been too bitter from the loss, since he had his arm wrapped around another girls waist by the time that Matt looked over to him. He simply shrugged and leant against the bonnet of the car that rested out of the main view of the audience and cheers.

Y/N pov:

“You race for all girls like that?” Matt couldn’t help but smirk as he saw you approach him, your body language only drawing him in further. He resisted the urge to grab your hips and pull you closer.

“Only the cute ones, baby” You blushed at the remarks, slipping your hand into a pocket of the leather jacket that hugged your chest, pulling out a lollipop that once unwrapped showed a candy ball covered in blue sugar crystals. You painted your tongue with the candy, letting the sweet taste mix with your saliva.

You could see his chest rise and fall as his breath hitched. He didn’t do this often and it was more obvious than he hoped, it was always Nate in this position. You adjusted your skirt slightly, moving the belt so it laid central to your hips. Matt dropped his eyes and stared at the skirt before acknowledging once again how perfectly it matched his vehicle.

“Your outfit matches my car.” He didn’t take his eyes off of you, scanning the outfit that barely covered what it needed to. You nod lightly, not wanting to speak around the candy.

“Oh? Is that intentional?” He smirked at the thought of you being dolled up for him and he finally looked up into your eyes as you spoke.

“Only for the cute ones” You wink subtly as you place the candy on your tongue, flaunting a pale blue that started to spread over it.

“So...how fast can she go?” Your body leant against the metal of the bonnet, leaning over it subtly as you admired the paint job with a trace of your finger.

“Numbers don’t matter” He stares bluntly at you, holding back a smirk. His tone is cocky and arrogant which only appealing to you the more you two talked.

“Oh really?” This wasn’t a conversation that you weren’t used to, you constantly grabbed attention of needy racers who needed to ride out the adrenaline of a win. However, Matt seemed different to you, tension arising between you two which didn’t go unnoticed.

“Want to ride?” A smirk rose to your face wanting to experience the common high of a racer. You turned your body and entered the vehicle that you adored the colour of, it was hard to miss after all.

Matt instantly followed suit and fell into the drivers seat, his hands confident and unwavering as he pushed his keys in the ignition. He decided to rev the engine a few times before finally starting the car and accelerating. You could see his eyes linger on the candy in your mouth that had now fully stained your tongue a deep shade of blue. Before you acknowledged his movements, he wrapped a finger around the stick and stole the lollipop and placed it into his own mouth, taking in the sweet flavour.

You let out a playful scoff and sat back into your seat, squeezing your thighs together at his bold demeanour.

Matt knew what he was doing was risky but at this point neither of you cared. His mind was telling him how stupid it was to drive after a race, especially out of the common ground they were familiar with. At night, the streets looked too tempting for either of them to say no.

You quietly stared at the speedometer, judging the careful 60mph Matt was going at. He saw you inch closer to the dashboard and changed gears quickly before speeding to about 100mph suddenly. The fast change in speed pushed you back into your seat and you finally got that adrenaline rush, instantly understanding why it was so addictive. The butterflies in your stomach didn’t leave as he kept racing down the roads, reaching a highway where he could get away with those speeds.

Matts hands clutched the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip and twisted them to earn a screech from the back tires. Your body jerked as you realised he was drifting the car around a tight bend, only gaining a laugh from you. His heart pounded at your reaction and speeding off again once the corner again.

“So, baby? Think I deserve your name now?” You were all laughs and giggles, riding high on the adrenaline that was so foreign to you, but you momentarily dragged yourself out of it to respond to you.

“Y/n..” You replied, losing yourself in the breeze that came whispering through the wound-down windows.

“Matt.” He responded, his cocky, teasing attitude muted by his thoughts, considering his next actions.

“Well, y/n. Want to see how fast this baby goes?” He didn’t give you a chance to answer before revving and taking off at an even higher speed down fast lanes, ignoring any signs of police.

Specks of colour flickered past as we swerved between cars and other larger vehicles. You wanted to be scared, panicked even of the possibility that you would crash or be pulled over, but the rush that came with it only forced those feelings away. All you could think about was how you wanted Matt to push the limits. But you weren’t so sure you were thinking about cars anymore.

After a few minutes, Matt slowed down as the roads became quieter. you were no longer racing down the highway, but for some reason, your body was still pulsing with some sort of thrill. He pulled the empty lolly stick from between his pink lips, revealing the intense blue tint that stained his tongue. you shivered, trying to stop your thoughts from straying elsewhere. he tossed the chewed up stick into some random compartment somewhere before leading his focus back on you and the road. On you for the most part which you had guessed by the eyes you could feel staring into the side of your head.

“Keep your eyes on the road, Matt.” You said, testing the way his name sounded from your lips.

He smirked at you, before doing as you said and staring ahead at the empty roads in front of him. It was your time to admire him, you thought, an idea forming in your head.

You pulled your hands from your lap, reaching over to place one on his thigh. You waited for a reaction. He glanced at you before reluctantly returning his gaze to the windshield. This time though, it wasn’t because you told him to, but because he feared he wouldn’t be able to control himself if he kept staring the soft skin of your thighs. Goddamn that skirt.

You slowly started to drag your hands further up his leg, earning yourself a warning look from the man beside you. You looked up at him, a facade of innocence painted across your features. He swore under his breath as you kept your hand moving slowly but firmly, entranced by the laboured breaths that started to escape his lips. You refocused on them, watching as his blue tinted tongue peeked out to sweep across them, the moisture glinting in the moonlight that came in through the windows.

You pressed your own thighs together, as the sinful thoughts started to flood in, your mind plagued by the thoughts of his tongue in other places.

Matt could feel everything through the thin nylon material of his pants, including the sharp press of your nails into the sensitive skin of his thighs. He swallowed down a sound that willed to escape his throat.

Despite the alarm sounds blaring through his head, Matt turned to look at you, regretting it as soon as he did.

The rosy flush on your cheeks, the glassy faraway look in your eyes, it all drew Matt in, sending him spiralling in a fit of lust. He looked down, seeing the way your skirt had ridden up and the way your legs were tightly pressed together. Images of hot skin sliding, chests heaving with laboured pants and bodies tangled between sheets flashed behind his eyelids. every part of his body shuddered with arousal. His white knuckled hands gripped the wheel with the same firm grip he imagined he would have on your hips as he rutted into you.

He stopped himself quickly, leading his thoughts to flood his brain with images of anything else, to get rid of the sensation raging in his abdomen.

By some sort of miracle, Matt managed to pull over into some sort of car park. there were three, maybe four cars scattered around the huge place, none with any indication that there was anyone inside.

No one was there..

Once the car was in park, his hands released their tight grip on the steering wheel and allowed the blood to flow back. His chest rises and falls with the occasional hitch in his throat whenever you press a little deeper into the material of his pants. He presses himself against the car door, unable to pull away from the sensations. Matt’s body was aching with each gentle graze of your fingernails with your touch continuing to tease his thoughts.

Matt lets his hands fall and tug at the lever that allowed his seat to pull back with a slight jerk. You let your hand back off from his body as you admire the modifications of his car.

His fingertips tap his thigh lightly as he calls you over, which you oblige.

He instantly reaches out without a second thought as his hands rest against your hips, guiding them onto his own. Once sat in his lap, his fingers start to trace up your sides leaving a trail of sparks in their wake.

You squeeze your legs around his sides and press all your body weight onto his. He shifts in his place, the feeling of you sat comfortably against him left him struggling to keep a straight face. You smirked down at him as you started to rock your hips back and forth. A quiet gasp emits past his lips.

Strokes of his hands trace your skin slowly back and forth, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. His eyes track your body and its movements each time you grind your hips. You feel Matt’s hands glide down your back before pulling you closer to him. He started to produce small whines caused from the friction on his dick, tilting his head back into the headrest of the chair.

Once he starts to release small high-pitched whined you slide down to his thigh and your hands start to toy with his waistband, pulling back the elastic to gently ping against his skin. You can’t help but smirk when he squirms underneath you as his pants rubbed against your clothed pussy.

You tease him slightly as you pull them down slowly past his hips, watching his face and it twists with anticipation.

You grab the hem of his boxers and pull them down to the same level as his boxers and you practically drool at the sight in front of you. He hisses as a light breeze of cool air hit his dick making him twitch slightly.

His cock was hard and leaking precum slowly through the tip. You grab the base of it and pump him a few times in your grasp, earning light moans from Matt. He wanted nothing more than to buck his hips up into your palms but he resisted so he could focus and savour the sight before him.

“Let me feel you baby..” He mumbles past a moan and his hands move around your thigh to meet the skin above your core. His fingers brush past the hem of your underwear and pushes it to the side to slide his fingers across. You gasp at the contact as he barely touches the edge of your clit.

Matt's expression turns into a smirk at your reaction, feeling how wet you are at such a lack of contact between the both of you.

“Fuck..you’re so wet...” Your teeth graze your skin as you bite down onto your lips, hiding yourself from him. He realises this quickly as grabs your chin to look at him.

“Let me hear you y/n, I want to hear how good I’m about to make you feel, yeah?” Matt had started to take control again and all it did was make you wetter.

His fingers gripped the skin on either side of your hips and takes a moment to study you and your body.

“You made this so easy for me with this skirt baby, but I think we both know that’s what you wanted hm..” He spoke so casually towards you, but you had no shame in admitting the truth to him with a weak nod.

The distance between you both closed as you leant forward to meet his lips, tasting the remnants of the blue candy as you swiped his bottom lip with your tongue.

Matt forced his hips upwards, applying pressure onto your core which made you groan into the kiss. He took this opportunity to push his tongue past your lips and deepen the kiss.

Both of you pulled apart from each other for air both of your chests panting against one another.

Your thighs reclaim their place, hovering just above matt, using your knees below and arms on the back of the seat as support. You could feel his body heat radiating onto yours which made you both realise how close you two were.“Want me to guide you, angel?” He takes a glance up at you and see your uncertainty mingled across your face. You blink at him sheepishly before slowly nodding your head, looking down at the near connection between you.

With your body still suspended above him he took this chance to slide down the seat, adjusting his body for the comfort against his body. He took your hips and gradually pulled them towards him taking small glances up at you to make sure you were ready.

He took the small nod as confirmation and pushed your hips down onto your body, gradually enough that you could stop anytime that you needed to. You sharply inhaled when his tip entered, not used to the feeling immediately. You only had your own slick to provide for you since his car lacked any of those products, the acknowledgement of that was mutual as you both took it slow, not wanting to hurt the other.

“Good..good..” He whispers in your ear as you slowly take more of him until you had bottomed out.

Little ruts of his hips were noticeable to you and you could see through his expression he wanted to move desperately, wanting to feel the body he craved for the past hour.

He wanted control during this but you decided to toy with him a little bit first. His eyes fixed on where your bodied were connected so once you felt comfortable enough with him inside, you lifted your body and bobbed your pelvis up and down a few times. Short but sweet.

Sweet enough to elicit a small moan from Matt’s throat, evidently taken by surprise.

“Is that how this is going to work?” His innocent facade was flawed and you saw through the smirk that was plastered on his face. The only thing you could do was prepare for what Matt had planned.

“C’mere baby..” Each of his fingers cupped your jaw and pulled your head forward until he was only an inch from your face. His eyes admired each feature before landing on his lips only momentarily staying still before leaning his head forward and kissing you gently. That was short lived as he applied more pressure on your lips and pressed his tongue against your lips.

The grin on his face grew each time he laid his lips on to your own as his body shuddered with arousal.

Matt could barely sense the lingering blue raspberry flavour on your lips but he needed more, he needed to taste it.

He took your distraction as an opportunity to press his hips upwards, causing you to moan at the sudden change. A smirk crossed his face as he succeeded and drove his tongue into your mouth.

Your body eased into his actions as he slowly moved against you, still letting you get used to him but you could tell he was holding back. You allowed yourself to break off the kiss and move down to his jawline and neck, sucking on the skin around it.

Matt immediately formed an ‘o’ shape with his mouth when you nipped along his jawline, finally letting his pelvis lift from his seat and pushed into you.

You both had formed a steady pace around each other between matt raising his hips and you lowering your body. Strings of moans fell between you both, growing closer to a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck, you’re so good.. taking me so well..” His words filled your ears and it only made you paw at something more than you couldn’t quite reach.

You knew he felt the same way, the way his hips occasionally stuttered when you moaned a little louder or when you bit his neck once more and made him whimper.

“M-matt..please.” You babbled into his neck as he kept thrusting upwards at his steady pace, you didn’t even know what you were begging for from him.

His pants were close to your ear, satisfying you as you realised he was getting close too.

“Please what, y/n..?” His tone was breathy and low and you pathetically whimpered at his words, as he began to thrust harder.

“Please I’m c-close..” A breathy chuckle was heard from Matt followed by a moan of his own.

“Hold on a little longer for me angel..c-can you do that?” As you replied you tilted your head backwards, trying to grip onto anything to make you last longer. Handprints had long been imprinted in the back of his seat, lined with a small coating of sweat. His own hands still gripped your hips tightly which left small crescents dented into your skin, but you were too overwhelmed with pleasure to care.

“Mhm..” You nodded to say what your mouth couldn’t. You both grew closer and you could feel him twitching slightly.

“Fuck..where do you want me?” His thrusts were becoming sloppy and you could barely keep yourself up anymore as he kept rutting inside.

“In..in me..please Matt.” You leant back forwards again whispering small cuss words into his ear as you reached your peak, suddenly moaning a little louder. You couldn’t hold back and clenched around him, whimpering his name.

“Shit.!” His body stuttered as he came inside you, groaning each time your body tightened around his cock.

Your breathes are just as shaky as Matt’s, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Everything between you two is still exposed as he remains inside you while he lets you come down from your high. You take your focus off of Matt for just a moment to see the windows covered in a light sheen that blurred your view to the exterior. It was either that or the way tears glossed over your eyes as you finished.

A smirk covers his face once he sees your fucked out expression.

“Maybe you should come to more races..” A low chuckle rose from his body and you merely rolled your eyes at his statement. But he was quick to fill the silence again.

“Hold on angel.. don’t move.” You freeze in your seat, watching Matt’s body pull his body closer to yours before reaching for the opening of the glove compartment, fumbling around a few times as it jolts open with a click. Matt grabs an un opened packet of tissues and holds the packaging between his front set of teeth, placing his free hands on your hips.

You pick up what he is trying to do and help lift yourself off on him and onto his thigh. The packet of tissues drops into his palms and he opens it and take two out, bringing it up between your leg.

He’s gently as he caresses the skin, trying to get your body to relax just a little more. Your lower back shivers as he wipes between the folds and past your clit but one quick inhale calms you down. He tosses the tissues into the side section of his car door and brings his hands to your hips one last time. His thumb rubs against the marked skin, lifting you again to aid you back over the console. His own hips lift to grab his boxers and pants and brings them back up to his waist slowly while he tries not to overstimulate himself.

Once you make it over to the console and Matt is situated again you catch him staring at the love bites you made across the skin of his neck and you smirk proudly at your work. The pushes the mirror back up to the roof of the car and faces you, holding a kind smile comparing to the smug look he had on ten minutes prior.

“You want to get food y/n..?” You realised quick that you hasn’t eaten since before the race and you were never one to turn down free food.

“Of course..I don’t mind where” You offer a sincere smile, referring to his own as he quickly resumed the car and changed gears before accelerating out of the car park.

“You better be at my next race.”

“Only if you win.”

@bueckerslover @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @breeloveschris @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @sleepysturnss @jnkvivi @melliflws @axolotllover225

#★ Ride Or Die AU #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #street racing #endereies #©endereies

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fanatic564 · 13 days ago

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Abandon Weakness (Am I a Weakness?) (DPxDC) Chapter 2

Chp 1 Learning Weakness 1 2 AO3 Link Here Chapter Summary Danny makes it to Gotham, but quickly discovers that it is the haunt of a powerful, and frankly terrifying, ghost.

Pre-A/N: Welp, instead of working on the main story, I once again procrastinated by working on the prequel. I will say, however, that this has probably been my most favorite chapter to write of this series yet (it's also the longest). I hope y'all enjoy!

Gotham City is both exactly what Danny expected and nothing at all like he expected. He expected the ambient ecto, the feeling of fear and pain that shrouded the city when he stepped in its limits.He had expected the other emotions in the mix, like joy and safety and protection, likely caused by the vigilantes that helped those around them. He even expected the gloom, the cloud-covered sky and tall dark buildings blocking what little sunlight peaked through the dark cover above.

What he hadn't expected was the crushing feeling of leave stay away mine THREAT GO AWAY that flooded in as soon as he crossed the border into the city. The instinct to bow down to a creature more powerful than anything he's ever seen, or to run away as he was told and never look back. The feeling that he just trespassed somewhere he shouldn't have even looked at, let alone actually entered.

He hadn't expected Gotham City to be the haunt of an overprotective and powerful ghost.

Danny thinks back on everything he's learned from his ghost mentors about the etiquette of entering another ghost's haunt. Introduce yourself to whoever the ghost is. Ask for permission and state your reasoning for entering. Bring a gift, usually one relating to the ghost's obsession. All things Danny didn't do before entering, couldn't do now that the owner was aware of his presence. And now that owner is angry.

He feels a tug on his core, an angry grip trying to drag him further into the city. It startles him at first, not used to feeling it so strongly while in human form. Not wanting to anger the ghost anymore than he already has, Danny follows the pull into a nearby alley that Danny notes isn't visible from the main road. The further in he gets, the darker the alley seems, until Danny figures the only reason he can still see clearly is because of his halfa status. The tugging on his core stops when he reaches a dead end in the alleyway. Despite both him and the ghost knowing a simple wall won't stop him from continuing, Danny has a feeling he wouldn't be able to escape if he tried.

Danny notices the moment a faint green light starts to reflect on the wall in front of him, and he knows that whoever owns this haunt is now standing right behind him.

"Phantom" A voice rasps, and the ghost knowing his name, while he looks human no less, is not the only reason a shiver runs down his spine. The voice is gravelly, as if the speaker smokes a pack of cigarettes a day, although knowing where he is now it's more likely from the smog filling the air in the city. He feels a sense of danger in the voice, and knows without any doubt that if he messes up this interaction, this ghost could End him with ease.

Danny takes a breathe before turning around slowly. He bows his head and keeps his eyes on the ground as he does, a sign of submission he hopes will calm the ghost in front of him enough for a civil conversation. From this angle, he can only see their feet, or lack-thereof. Instead, wisps of gray smoke trail off of what could be considered their legs, almost identical in color to the smog surrounding the city. After a moment, the ghost continues speaking.

"Why have you dared to enter my city? We have an agreement. I remain neutral in your politics, and you and your people stay far away from my city and people."

Danny doesn't break eye contact with soda can he's been staring at on the ground as he voices his confusion. "I'm not sure what you are referring to. I am here on personal business, and had no idea Gotham was the home of another ghost. If I had known, I would have performed proper etiquette to ask for access."

"You would have still requested access to my city, knowing I don't take kindly to interlopers?"

"Again, I'm not sure what you're referring to. I don't actually know who you are."

"Hm" Danny watches in his peripherals as the ghost circles him. He keeps his breathing calm, even as the smoke wafting off of the ghost and into the air encompasses him completely. "I suppose you are fairly new to your…role." Danny tries to suppress a flinch, but he doesn't think he managed if the ghost's pause means anything. "It's possible that you haven't yet been informed of my agreement with your court."

Danny feels a cold finger touch his chin, forcing him to look away from his emotional support soda can. His gaze travels up the ghost's form before landing on cold, colorless eyes that feel as if they pierce into his core.

"However, you still have not answered my question, Phantom. Why have you entered my domain? What personal business do you have that requires you to be here? And do try not to lie. I will know if you do." The smoke around him swirls as if in response to their words.

Danny takes a moment to get his thoughts together, and as he does he takes in the ghost in front of him. The ghost is tall, having to lean down quite a bit in order to meet his eyes, even with his head tilted up as it is. They are lithe, but in no way do they look delicate. Their coloring is dark. Even with the green glow of ectoplasm that makes them up, it feels as if they suck in all other light surrounding them. That explains the unnatural darkness of the alley at least.

Their hair is long, pulled up into a complicated style that Danny is pretty sure would not work if gravity affected it like a normal person. It almost reminds him of the fancy hairstyles he would see in period films or in his history books. On top is a large sunhat, casting a shadow on an already sunless face. The sunhat is fancy, with a plethora of webbing or ribbon or something that Danny can't really make sense of. The only thing that really sticks out is the bat decoration nestled among the lace.

The dark black that makes up their outfit flows down their legs like a dress and fades into the dark gray smoke Danny has become familiar with. Along their arms, their dress turns to thin black lace, showing the 'skin' underneath. And that is where Danny notices the one part of this ghost that isn't colorless and dark. On their arms are what appear to be tattoo sleeves, parts of which almost glow from the saturation of color, especially when compared to the monochrome of the rest of the ghost. He can't quite make out the full design, but he can see some of the saturated blobs and the immediate picture beside them. The most notable one appears to be a bunch of different stylized yellow R's, forming a circle surrounded by dark gray clouds. An imitation of a sun peaking out of a storm most likely, although Danny isn't sure what the R's represent. He's pretty sure he can see one blue and two red birds flying amongst the clouds, separate flecks of light in the otherwise dark sky of skin.

Danny is so enamored by the ghost's appearance that he loses himself in the moment. Soon it becomes way longer than is probably acceptable for a response, but he doesn't even notice. He only does when he feels that cold finger still on his chin tilt his head higher so he once more meets eyes with the ghost.

"I'm waiting, Little Ghostling." The name, which feels like it should be a thing of endearment, feels like a taunt coming from the ghost's lips.

Danny has to remember what question he was asked, being so distracted by the ghost's appearance, but he finally thinks of how he wants to answer. He doesn't want to go into full detail with this ghost he doesn't know, and so he thinks of what he can exclude. He finally thinks of a starting point that should hopefully satisfy the ghost.

"I'm looking for someone."

"Oh? And who is it that you just have to get to?"

"Nowadays, he goes by Damian Wayne." The feeling is so sudden, Danny doesn't register it at first, but soon he is almost choking on the feeling of protectiveness and danger that suddenly surrounds him, amplified by the smoke that gets thicker around him. The ghost's voice booms as they speak up.

" What reason do you have to seek out the son of my Knight?

Knight? "U-uh" Just tell the truth Danny. "He's my brother."

The smoke surrounding him somehow seeps closer, and Danny squeezes his eyes shut. It's only when the sensation eases, and the ghost lets out a light hum, that he opens them once more. There is curiosity in the ghost's gaze, as opposed to the heat and threat that had been there just moments before.

"Interesting. You do not seem to be lying. Explain, Ghostling. How is it we are only learning of you now?" We?

Danny decides it's probably best to just fully explain his situation. Trying to be vague seemed to cause too many strong emotions from the ghost, and he would rather there not be any misunderstandings. So he starts talking. His birth family. His adopted family. His deaths. His parents discovering his ghost status. His choosing Gotham as his destination.

He still doesn't go into full detail, but it's enough for the ghost to get the gist of it. They listen closely, and Danny can feel some of their emotions and reactions seeping into the smoke around him. He can also feel as his own emotions seep into the smoke as well. It's almost therapeutic, feeling his own emotions echoed back at him, even if he knows this ghost can feel them as well. Can feel his anger towards his parents, his determination to see his brother, his fear of being abandoned a third time , his insecurities of the roles pushed onto him by others. When he's done, the ghost allows the silence that follows to linger, observing Danny with a thoughtful eye instead of responding. Danny has to resist the urge to make himself smaller under their gaze.

When they finally speak, it is a quiet whisper to themself, but Danny is still able to make out the words. "So the Little Ghostling is my Knight's Prince. Then he will be my Little Princeling as well."

Louder, the ghost speaks to him directly. "Very well Phantom. I shall open my haunt and allow it to be yours as well."

Danny's eyes widen. "No no. You don't need to go that far! Simply allowing me to reside here for now would be enough. I could pay you back for the ambient ecto I absorb. There's no need for me to fully haunt your city."

The ghost's voice softens as they speak next. It is the friendliest he has heard the ghost be. It almost sounds like a mother consoling her child. "It is already done, my Little Princeling." Danny doesn't know how he feels about the nickname, but he doesn't want to comment in fear of earning the ghost's ire once more. They could take back their amnesty at any moment, after all.

"I am now your home. My streets are mapped into your core, my shadows shall be your willing blanket, my people shall be your kin. As long as you never abandon her, Gotham shall never abandon you. I shall take my leave now, my Little Princeling, but know that from now on you are mine, and I protect those who are mine."

The ghost starts to turn away, but Danny has one more question he needs answered before he can process what has just happened.

"Wait!"

The ghost stops their half turn, but doesn't turn back to look at him.

"Just who are you, anyway."

The ghost lets out a laugh, less gravelly than their talking voice. If anything, its almost like a child's laugh, young and high and free. It echoes throughout the alley. No that's not quite right. It's less of an echo, and more as if the alley is laughing along.

"Have you not figured it out yet?"

The walls of the alley seem to close in, and the smoke no, the smog, how could he have thought of it as anything else thickens even more somehow. And Danny knows, a moment before the ghost speaks it into existence. This ghost doesn't just live in Gotham, the city of tall dark silhouettes, and all consuming smog. The city of colorful birds and dark bats flying in its skies.

"I am Lady Gotham."

She is this city.

End Notes: Can you tell who my favorite character to write this chapter was? (It's obviously Danny's emotional support soda can.)

I didn't realize just how much fun I was going to have with Lady Gotham until I started writing her.

Feel free to point out any mistakes.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danyal al ghul #Danny phantom #Lady gotham #fanatic fics #learning weakness

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pleaseeeimjustagirl · 1 year ago

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Shifting Your Mindset From Scarcity To Abundance

Your mindset can be the reason you're not reaching your goals or living the life you want. Philosophers say the way that you think is exactly the way you will live. A lot of people live with a scarcity mindset believing the things they want are unattainable and out of reach. And if you struggle with this way of thinking it's time to shift your mindset to an abundance mindset. Your goals are achievable and the life you want is achievable.

What is a scarcity mindset?

A scarcity mindset is an outlook on life that focuses on the lack of resources it's like putting blinders on limiting what you notice that can benefit you in the world. For example, you don't think there are any more good men in the world so you settle for a guy who doesn't meet your standards. Another example is wanting to start a business and assuming you won't be successful because there are others in the same niche as you. Even comparing your beauty to the next woman. Living in this cycle can create a lot of anxiety, anger, and resentment towards others and their achievements.

Signs you have a scarcity mindset

♡ Perfectionism. You assume that anything less than perfect isn't good enough. This will only lead to procrastination and fear of risk-taking and the cycle will continue.

♡ You hate to see others succeed. Instead of celebrating the accomplishments of others you feel threatened by them. Thinking that their success takes away your chances of being successful or that they are outshining you. You feel that for your situation to get better others must fail so you can win.

♡ Competing with others. You might compare yourself to others and that can lead to competing and trying to outdo the next person. Some people will be in hard financial times and instead of being financially responsible, they will try to keep up with the Jones buying designer and so many other items that don't benefit them at that time.

♡ You blame others for your problems. We all know someone who didn't put in the effort to do something and when asked what happened they blame the world, economy, or anything unrelated to why they didn't achieve their goal. They lack accountability for their actions leading to their failures.

♡Being pessimistic. We will all have bad days and see things negatively we are human but always being pessimistic about all the things in your life is a terrible way to live.

♡ Negative self-talk. You find yourself saying “I can't do that”, “this will never happen to me”, or “This isn't realistic for someone like me.” Your mind believes only what you feed it and if you feed your mind sentences like these you will always live with a scarcity mindset.

If you resonate with any of these signs now its time to change babes<3

What is an abundance mindset?

An abundance mindset is believing that the world is filled with enough resources and time for you to accomplish any goals you have. You optimistically see life and don't hold on to negativity. You let go and let things be. You trust yourself and pour into yourself and the world around you. Seeing the glass as half full.

Signs you have an abundance mindset

♡ You are an optimist. Like I said above you tend to the glass as half full. Negative things may happen to you but instead of thinking why me? You think what can I learn from this experience?

♡ High level of self-awareness. You're able to have a balanced self-image and can recognize the negative traits that you need to fix. You praise and optimize your positive traits.

♡ Being present. You focus on the now you don't get caught up in the past on what could have been or stress yourself on the future on what could be. You focus on the things you can control.

♡ You celebrate people. You want to see others achieve their goals even if they are similar to your own. You think there is enough room for everyone to be successful and happy.

♡ You are open to change. You believe the sky is the limit! And there is always room for new hobbies, careers, and so on. You take advantage of new opportunities that come your way.

♡ Generosity. You don't mind giving your time, money, and resources to others because you believe that these things are endless and always flowing into your life.

♡ Personal development. Instead of focusing on the shortcomings of others you focus on your personal growth and work on becoming the best version of yourself.

How do you cultivate an abundance mindset?

♡ Gratitude journaling. Make time during your day to journal the stuff that you are grateful for. Reflect on the small things in your life that bring you happiness, peace, and hope. Gratitude journaling can help improve your mental health, increase self-esteem, and reduce stress.

♡ Practice being mindful. Practice awareness in the present moment through breath work, sensory activation, and meditation

♡ Positive affirmations. Start speaking positively to yourself and focus on showing love to the things you can’t change about yourself and the things you love about yourself. Making positive statements combat limiting beliefs. This will increase your self-esteem.

♡ Surround yourself with people who have an abundance mindset. We don't realize but the people around us do slowly have an impact on us. Make friends with people who have an abundance mindset instead of those who think negatively with a scarcity mindset.

Going into 2024 we need to kick these scarcity mindsets and sit with abundance affirming that we can achieve our goals. If you have any other tips you’d like to share please comment below and share them with our other girliesss<3

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razzydasombralover · 2 months ago

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Presenting the Emperors of Equestria, Grogar and Tirek! ☀️🌙

From troubled beginnings, these two powerful creatures became Equestrias first (and only) emperors together. Even after many (and i mean MANY) years have passed, these two still act like newlyweds.

Now, here's some extra tidbits to know.

Grogar and Tirek are both Sombras' biological dads. They created him using their magic abilities along with the help of a certain mad scientist to create their magic spore into the king we know today. How he ended up as a unicorn of all things is something Grogar and Tirek tend to keep in the dark. (No mpreg, sorry gang)

As for Cozy Glow, that will have to wait till the next showcase ✨️

Yes, this technically isn't the real Grogars design, and I was going to make him look like similar to his g1 version, but I actually liked soooo yeah

I know Tirek isn't in his ultimate here mind you, he is very powerful still! I just really like his 2nd form more then the others

For many eons, the sun and moon would already set and rise on their own. However, ever since Celestia and Luna were able to control them, it vastly messed with the order of things in Equestria. Grogar and Tirek were unfortunately able to fix this as Sombra had trouble stopping the sisters himself and had pleaded his father's to not intervene and instead leave matters into his hooves. Thus for a thousand years, days were constantly longer and attempts on fixing this issue were in vain. So the Emperors would instead, make the skies dark and cloudy. While the rest of Equestria were doing fine with the odd weather, Canterlot and its neighboring town, Ponyville, unfortunately took a major hit on its resources. When the sisters became reformed but "unknown circumstances", Tirek and Grogar decided to drain the sisters of their magic and finally had abilities to control the sun and moon. Grogar with the Sun and Tirek with the Moon. These duties were short lived as Grogar got tired of it and instead worked out a way for the two to rise and set on their own once more. It's not that he's lazy, he just doesn't want to bother doing extra stuff 🤣

Sombra the "Papa's boy" and Cozy "Daddy's girl"

(And yes, that's Scorpan!)

TLDR, Old men in love

~~~~~~~

This showcase is waaay overdue. 😅 I gotta stop procrastinating when it comes to uploading my art.

#mlp #mlp au #mlp au lore #mlp au art #mlp Grogar #mlp lord tirek #good king sombra #cozy glow #old man yaoi #my little pony #mlp mirrorverse #mlp mirror universe #grogar #lord tirek #king sombra #scorpan

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draftsandrecs · 5 months ago

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Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Reader has a love hate relation ship with her superior but thinks nothing will come of it until one night at a Halloween party.

Word Count: 4,368

Warnings: 18+, smut, no condoms, dirty talk

One thing that always bothered you in your career is when people asked why you joined the military. Or what drew you to it. Some people answer because of college, career opportunity, or even because of the experience. But not you. You chose it because you didn’t know what you wanted to do with your life. You thought you had enough time in highschool to decide what you wanted to do with the rest of your life. But unfortunately senior year came and went and you still had no idea what you wanted to do. Of course you could’ve gone to community college or taken a leap year. To you though, that just felt like procrastination. You wanted to at least be doing something valuable with your time and energy. Instead of getting a minimum wage job or taking classes you didn’t care for. There wasn’t anything wrong with either of those things, but to you it wasn’t what you wanted. So when people asked why you joined, you would just answer “because I didn’t have anything else to do.” They either laugh or are taken aback by the dry answer. You didn’t care either way considering you’re now a year in, working on two degrees, have decent benefits, and pay is good for your field. And most importantly you found something you wanted to do with your life. But of course there are always downsides to good things. Your one downside? Steve motherfucking Rogers.

Sergeant Rogers. Where do you start when describing him? Is it the fake personality he puts on or is it the pretentious demeanor he parades around. Either way you can’t stand that man no matter how long you’ve known him or worked with him. He’s always nice to everyone, smiles all around, joking non stop. But to you it’s the complete opposite. Its blunt comments, ridiculous requests when it comes to work, and a rude attitude. But that’s not the worst part. The problem is how no matter what he says or does, you still find him undeniably attractive. Perhaps there’s a bit of sadism in how much you enjoy the hateful relationship you give each other. Like cat and mouse but with spiteful words and crude comments. It’s like an adrenaline rush when you two are around each other. Heated words, sexual tension, and hatred. But of course you’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing what you actually think. For all he will ever know is how much you despise him and his stupid self.

The coffee maker whirs alive as it begins brewing a single cup in your favorite mug you keep at work. Natasha’s words are in the background describing the Halloween party you and her are throwing and what all you need to gather for it.

“Do you think it’s too much?” She asks as she pours creamer into her own mug. Referring to the matching costumes she picked out for the two of you. Strawberry shortcake characters, or as the website cited “berry babes.”

“No, I like it, it’s cute. But I am not wearing that hat.” You sit your mug down as you shake your head at the silly headwear. In your defense it looked like what the mom from the Berenstain’s Bears would wear.

“Fair enough, but you have to at least carry a basket for the pictures. We didn’t get any last year.” Natasha refers to the two of you last Halloween being plastered before midnight. You and her forgot your tolerance and went overboard.

“Yeah, yeah I know. It’s not my fault you make strong drinks.” You joke with a smile.

She holds her hands up in defense replying, “it helps when I can taste it so I know I’m getting my worth. What’s the point of drinking if you don't get drunk.”

She made a very good point that morning.

You’re in the middle of finishing up a small task when your phone buzzes. A notification from Natasha appears with the message:

Sgt. Rogers wants to see you

You reply with the eyeroll emoji already annoyed with having to see him. You don’t have the best record with how often you’re in trouble. More so how often he likes to say that you’re in trouble. It usually is never that serious but he enjoys threatening you with consequences as well as giving you bullshit tasks when he’s pushed. It’s usually because of your quick witted remarks and your attitude as well. Which you never noticed a problem with but you enjoy getting him upset when he starts it. This is annoying alone cause this probably could have been an email. He just loves to make your job harder than it needs to be.

She replies back with a laugh reaction knowing how he can be towards you. You figure it will either be a petty remark about something you did or about work that needs to be finished or redone. He loves to have you do work he could finish himself. Sometimes you wonder if you’re working for the army or just as his personal assistant with the way he acts. Not putting too much worry on yourself you head to his office hoping it won’t take long. He knows you don’t like doing stuff before lunch. And you’re due for lunch in less than 10. Right on par for Rogers.

Your knock is small when you reach the door hoping he doesn’t hear it. Maybe you could email him and say you tried to come by earlier. But of course nothing gets past him.

“Come in,” Rogers says as you brace yourself before entering.

“You wanted to see me.” Your tone is more a statement hoping to come across as ‘hurry up I have to get to lunch in 5 or else I’ll be hangry’. You only had a coffee for breakfast after all.

“I was hoping to discuss the schedule change you made.” He moves his mouse around assuming he’s checking your request form.

You sit down as you answer “oh yeah, I figured I have enough personal time that I could have off since it is a Friday.”

Truthfully you haven’t had time off in forever it felt like and rarely had to even use sick days. You figured getting off early for Friday would be good since you would be able to help set up for the party and have an early day.

“Yeah I don’t know about that. I figured we’ll need someone for a few things.” His reply makes your stomach drop.

No fucking way, I earned that time off is what you wanted to say but all you could muster was “excuse me?”

He smirks as he sees you getting annoyed. “I know you requested it but what can I do? I may need someone here and well, it’s your job.”

You lean forward in the chair sitting becoming frustrated, “I requested my day off over a month ago. I do not take time off nor do I ever not get my work done.I think I should be approved. Besides there is nothing on Friday that needs to be done that can’t be done Thursday or wait until Monday to be finished.”

He hums in disagreement, “you know another thing I should also bring up is that attitude problem of yours.”

He gets up from his position as he walks over to you as he continues, “I think your problem is that you have an issue with being obedient and abiding by the rules.”

You’re almost taken aback by his statement and without thinking say “I think your problem is that your power drunk and try to belittle me to make your job a little more interesting. If I can’t have leave approved, fine but don’t expect me to come in Friday because I think I’m coming down with something.” You almost want to fake a cough to add to the matter.

He leans over you, hands on either side of you trapping you in his presence. His voice is low and almost harsh “and that mouth of yours right there is what keeps you in trouble.”

There’s a hint of playfulness in your voice when you say “I know.” You push your chest out challenging him against his authority. Trying to get closer to him. Half of you wanting to piss him off and the other half wanting to be as close as possible. His eyes travel from yours to then to your body. There’s a thick tension that hangs in the air as you wait for his next move.

He leans his head down, lips brushed against your ear sending goosebumps down your spine, “don’t start what you can’t finish (Y/N)” his tone is stern and serious. It almost makes you want to see how far you can go with him.

Just as you plan your next move he speaks again “you’re dismissed.” Just like that he’s back to how he was before.

Your phone speaker blares music as you finish getting ready for the party. Just a few touches to your makeup and hair and you’ll be finished. Thursday has arrived for a night of drinking, dancing, and having fun with friends. Even though you’ve been looking forward to tonight, your mind has been occupied. You haven’t forgotten about the little episode with your sergeant. It’s really all you’ve thought about since it happened earlier this week. You couldn’t believe it actually happened. So close to fulfilling that fantasy of yours yet still on edge. Unfortunately though you didn’t see him much this week. Which made it worse since you couldn’t tell if he was serious about the interaction or just playing a joke to make you feel weak. Either way you’ve decided tonight to push any thought of what happened away.

Around 9pm is when the party started with a house full of people, drinks being handed out, and music becoming increasingly louder the more people drank. You made yourself a drink not too long ago and plan on nursing on it for a while. Not wanting to repeat last year's activities of course. You’re filling a punch bowl up with a cocktail mixture as Natatasha walks in very giddy.

“Don’t tell me you took shots without me. I thought we were taking it semi slow until later.” You say jokingly pouring some off brand cranberry pineapple juice into the large bowl.

“Please, I was there too. I do not want to be laid over a toilet bowl with an ice pack on my head again.” She says looking for a handle to put in the bowl.

“So if it’s not the alcohol talking then I assume you’re excited for a guy, Bucky I assume, am I getting warmer?” Anytime she likes a guy she always has the same grin and walk when she walks about him or on her mind.

“You’re hot. He said he was able to make it. He even said he’ll bring a few friends.” Her voice is excited as she speaks about him. You know what that means, matchmaker.

“You know my thing. I never want to get involved with guy friends in case anything goes south.” Nothing worse than double dating and there’s a falling out to make everything awkward.

“Oh you’re just upset because Rogers hasn’t bent you over yet.” You softly slap her arm as you gasp dramatically.

“Hey, that’s different. If that ever goes wrong I can always transfer. Or ya know, completely change my identity and name and never be seen again.” Half of that was true. That would be mortifying if his plan was just joking with no intentions of pursuing you like you do for him.

“I’m just saying. You two have been playing this cat and mouse game for a little bit. I think you should just go for it.” She transfers a few cups to the table organizing a few things.

“Maybe but I don’t know how I would even go about it. I don’t want him to laugh in my face or worse, pretend like it never happened.” She rolls her eyes at your exaggeration .

“Are you kidding me? For a year or so you two have been at each other. The suggestive remarks, the not so little glances, plus the promotions you’ve gotten even though we both know you haven’t been there long ago to receive. No offense.” You nod in agreement understanding where she’s coming from as she continues. “All I am saying is he must at least like you a little.”

You roll your eyes asking playfully, “you think so?”

“I may tell a joke but I’ll never tell a lie.” You hug each other thanking her as she pulls away to answer her phone.

She holds a finger up as she answers, “hey! Yeah just wherever you can find parking.” She trails off as she leaves the kitchen to help find parking for whoever is on the other line.

Two drinks in you’re already feeling a buzz making you feel fuzzy and warm. You and Wanda are in the middle of a conversation when Nat pulls your attention away.

“Can I steal her for a moment? I wanted you to meet Bucky.” You’ve been excited to meet him with how long they’ve been talking (a few months). It’s rare she dates seriously so he must be something.

She holds your arm making your way to the front entrance of your shared home. You find a brunette man putting his belongings in his coat before hanging it up.

“Nice.” You whisper to her as you check him out.

“I know right, who would’ve thought I would meet someone in a grocery store of all places.” He asked her out by using some lines about if she liked grapes or something. Corny but cute at least it wasn’t a dating app.

“Bucky this is Y/N, Y/N Bucky.” You shake his hand telling him you’re glad he could make it and to make himself at home.

“Thank you, I’ve heard a lot about you. Natasha really seems to look up to you.” He says in a genuine tone.

You pout your lip out at her, as she sticks her tongue out at you “aw that’s too sweet. I can say the same to you.”

Before any more conversation can be made the front door opens revealing none other than Steve Rogers. You feel like your buzz is making your heart race 2x as worse with how fast your heart is beating.

“Hope you don’t mind, I invited a friend. I figured since it’s a party the more the merrier right.” Bucky says as he introduces Steve. You know right now would be a good time to have already been hammered.

Nat finds you in the kitchen pouring shots.

“Please don’t be mad. I didn’t know he was friends with him.”

You stare at her, giving her another chance to change her answer.

“Okay I did but I thought it would be a good thing. You know relationships are different inside and outside of work.” She says trying to make light of the situation.

“I’m not mad. Maybe a little but more so nervous. I’ve never seen him outside of work let alone hung out with him. Should I try to conversate or should I just ignore him? I mean what if-?”

She cuts you off before you can finish your sentence “You say he ‘hates you’ but we both know that men are only mean to women when it comes down to two things. They either find them ugly or they want to fuck them. And you are nowhere near the first choice. I mean look at you, very few can pull off a bulky army uniform yet alone tonight. You look irresistible.”

“You know what, you’re right. I am hot” you say hyping yourself up as you continue “I’m not going to make any moves though. If he wants me, he can finish what he started.” You take a shot with Nat before making your way back to the party.

You, Wanda, and Natasha find yourselves making a circle with one another. Bodies moving with the beat of the music. With the alcohol running through your system and the party music in your ears you let yourself loose.

“Do you know that guy over there?” Wanda asks you as she directs your eyes to a few guys in the corner of the living room talking.

“Which one?” you turn around asking confused. Finding Steve staring at you then quickly looking away.

“Tall blonde one. He’s been looking over a lot at you.” You laugh a little at her answer.

“That’s my sergeant. The one I told you about.” You and the girls laugh as he looks over again making a confused face.

“Don’t look now but he’s coming over here.” Wanda begins to back up to give you a little space as he approaches.

“Oh don’t worry about him, he’s not going to do anything.” You say insinuating he’s a coward.

“Do you girls mind if I steal her away for a minute?” His tone is firm as he grabs your arm not caring of their answer.

“She’s all yours” Nat says as she and Wanda make kissing faces at you as he drags you away from them.

“Where’s your room?” You roll your eyes.

“No hello, or how are you? If you need the bathroom there’s one near the kitchen.” You say snapping at him.

“I’m not asking again.” You direct him near a hallway showing him.

“Why do you need it?” You ask as he opens your door, almost throwing the both of you in it.

“Hey you could at least take me out first.” Your joke doesn’t land as he grabs you closely. His face is so close to yours you can smell the gum and beer mixture on his breath.

“I’ll take you out after but first I want to show you I will do something. Especially about that bratty attitude of yours.” You're taken aback as you feel like this can’t be real until you hear his button pop and zipper become undone.

“No amount of extra work I give you or threats ever close that mouth of yours but I know what will.” He has a smug look on his face as he pushes his jeans down proudly showing his hard on.

“Down, now.” He commands as you instinctually get on your knees. Letting the plush carpet support you. You look up at him as he nods for you to continue going. He finds his hands in your hair as you slip your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and peel them down. His cock is almost intimidating with how thick it is.

He taps your lips with the tip as if he’s asking for an invitation to open. You of course obliged as he slowly pushes his cock into your mouth. Making sure not to go too fast or too rough. He mumbles something to himself as you close your eyes as you welcome the heaviness on your tongue.

“Oh fuck, that’s it. Good girl.” His voice is almost a whisper as he finds his hands guiding the back of your head.

Your mouth mainly focuses on the head finding precum already waiting for you. The saliva and precum make it easier for you to take him but not enough with how thick he is. You're thankful that he isn’t too rough with his pace as he pushes himself a little more into your mouth.

“Don’t worry. I know bunnies aren't able to take too much.” You use that to fuel your next move.

You breathe in as much as you can before swallowing all of him. You feel out of breath but the pain is nothing compared to how proud you feel pleasuring him. He doubles over a little as he rocks his hips. He grips your head harder as he pulls out halfway before quickly shoving himself back in. Your drool is dripping from your mouth as your eyes water, no doubt that your eye makeup is smearing. Your gags are like music to his ears. He doesn’t seem to care about you at this moment as he uses your mouth like a sex toy.

“Fuck you’re so good. I could fuck your mouth forever.” He says finally giving one last thrust as he pulls out leaving his cock shiny with spit and precum. You go to wipe your mouth with your hand but he stops you.

“Leave it. I want to see you ruined.” He pulls you back up to your feet, thankful that your knees aren’t hurting anymore.

He kisses you not caring about the wetness as he finds the hem of the dress going underneath it.

“I always wondered what kind of panties you wore.” He says in between the kisses. He finds a surprise as he realizes no panties are to be found. He smacks your ass making you gasp.

“No panties? Should've known a slut like you wouldn’t wear them.” He rubs his fingers over your wet slit letting them soak in your wetness before applying pressure to your clit.

“If you would’ve fucked me the other day you would’ve seen I mostly wear thongs.” Your voice is smaller as he rubs circular motions around your clit.

“Trust me if the office had been empty I would’ve fucked you so hard the only words you would’ve remembered were yes sir.” His fingers stretch your hole as you buckle underneath him.

“I haven’t even started yet. You're already getting stupid on my fingers bunny?” His tone is condescending as you can only nod watching him use you, exposing you in the most intimate way.

Without exchanging words he tosses you on the bed. He takes his shirt off before climbing on top of you.

“I’m going to say this once. I respect you, but what I’m about to do is going to show no mercy. Do you understand?” His eyes are locked with yours as you nod, responding “yes sir.”

With a verbal agreement he pushes the straps off your costume and helps pull the top off of you leaving you bare underneath him. He grabs the small of your neck kissing you while his other hand finds your breasts and pinches your nipples before slapping them harshly. You cuss as he smiles in between the kisses. You grind against him, making his thigh wet as his fingers find your hole again letting them in eagerly. You whine as his thick fingers lock around him.

“That feels so good.” You moan, laying your head on the pillow.

“Gotta make sure you can take me.” He says taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it. He bites it gently before pulling both his mouth away and his fingers.

He positions himself between your legs. Grabbing the base of his cock he slips it between your lips letting it become wet. His tip rubs your clit after each pass making it swollen. He repeats it a few times before lining himself up with your wet hole. He rests one hand on your bent knee while the other guides his shaft. You feel yourself fall apart as he slowly enters. The words ‘oh my god’ fall from your mouth as he stretches you and fills you up.

You both watch his cock sink into you. He spreads your lower half to help himself go deeper until he’s left with nothing. He begins moving as your g-spot is already beginning to be bullied. You grab onto his forearms to stabilize yourself from his brutal thrusts.

“You feel like absolute heaven.” He says leaning down to kiss your ear then nipping it.

“Your cock- you feel so good.” You stutter through your words.

“You’re the tightest little bunny I’ve ever gotten the pleasure to use.” His words send a shock through you making you dizzy.

He leans back up giving you one last kiss as he sits back up. His muscular thighs lay under your behalf creating a deepend position. Your wide position makes it easier to pound into you. You use one of your hands to rub your clit as he hate fucks you into the mattress. You can feel how wet you are by the slickness of your ass and his thighs. The sounds of your moans and wetness fill the room competing with the loud music throughout the party.

“Your little cunt can’t get enough of me. Sucking my cock so eagerly.” He says slapping the inside of your thigh. You whine at his vulgar words.

“Mm I never want to use my fingers again, only your cock,” referring to the countless times you masturbated to him.

“Yeah, you can have my cock whenever you want bunny.” His thrusts begin to become slower as he gets closer to an orgasm.

You speed up with your fingers as he angles his hips to pound your g-spot. Your body aching wanting to come around his cock. He grabs your legs, pressing your knees into you as he fucks himself into you. Using your wet tight hole as nothing but an object. You grab one of your breasts to toy with as he whines frustrated. The pleasure running through him as he stares down at your body. Regretful he spent nights with his hand when it could’ve been you.

“You were made for me.” He says in between thrusts as you come around cock milking the cum out of him filling you up.

You and him lay in silence for a while. The only sounds being the music and the buzzing fan in the background.

“I approve you.” He says after a while.

“Of what?” You say turning towards him.

“Of your day off. I’m not done with you yet and by the time I will finish I don’t think either of us will step foot in work tomorrow.” He laughs as you roll your eyes, throwing a pillow at him. He knew you weren’t coming in anyway. You were also probably not getting that photo with Natasha either.

#draftsandrecs #smut #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x y/n #chris evans fanfiction #marvel smut

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