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Day 3 - Broken

Prompt: 3 - Broken + 5 - Self-Loathing + 18 - Scars Character: Sam Winchester Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader Word Count: 505 Warnings: Self-loathing, negative self-talk, referenced injury Tags: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland Tuna-Tober Masterlist 2024

Broken

Sam Winchester slipped out of the bed, careful not to wake you. Just because he was too broken to sleep properly didn’t mean you should be deprived of sleep. Especially not for him. You had already given up too much for him.

He still didn’t understand it. Why had you give up your safe, normal life for him? To risk your life hunting monsters for people who would never know or understand your sacrififce. Who would deny all the blood shed in their name. To endure the estrangement of your family and old friends just to join him and Dean on this cursed road. Why?

He understood why Dean did it. He was just as cursed as Sam. There was no escaping this road. Not for them. They had both tried. And Dean was his big brother. He had always tried to protect him. No matter how tired or angry with him that Dean was - and times he had been very much both of those things - he’d never leave Sam to face the world’s evil alone.

Not you. You could have that apple pie life. You could live in a beautiful little house filled with the books and plants that you loved. Not a musty old bunker between a series of cheap hotels. You could have a boyfriend who wasn’t broken. Someone with a real job that could take you out on nice dates. Not a monster who dragged you into the shadows and made you bleed.

It might not be his own two hands that hurt you but it was his fault. You’d never gotten those scars if you had never met him. The obvious ones like the claw marks across your back. But also the invisible ones, the wounds left in the soul by fear and devastating loss.

Without him . . . you’d be safe. Whole. Happy. In love with someone who could put a pretty ring on your finger without fear. Instead of someone who feared putting an even bigger target on your back. Who couldn’t even ask you if you wanted children because he was too terrified of the answer.

You deserved better. Someone worthy of your love. Not a tattered patchwork of a man covered in scars visible and invisible.

But one of his numerous flaws that he was selfish. So when your arms wrapped around him, he couldn’t push you away. He was too greedy to reject the comfort of your body against his. He craved your affection, the pretty words you told him (I’m here . . . I’ve got you, Sammy . . .  I love you . . . you’re a good man, Sam Winchester. I know you don’t want to believe me but you are . . .)

He wanted you to be right. He wished he had your faith that one day, he’d believe those words. He wanted that so badly. It would be so easy to give in.

But Sam was done lying to himself. You deserved better than him. And while he was too selfish to give you up, he was never going to forget that.

Author's Note

This is my first time writing Sam so please let me know what you think.

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A House That Isn’t A Home

Description: A look into Axl’s home life

Prompt: Broken (day 3)

Part 2 of “You’re My Red Rose”

⚠️WARNINGS ⚠️: PHYSICAL ABUSE, SUICIDAL IDEATION

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Andrew unlocked the door with the extra key his father, John, had made for him. They entered to see Mia, his little half-sister, sitting on the couch, hugging her pink teddy bear. John was seated at the table with his head resting in the palm of his hand. Empty beer bottles and cans surrounded him. His mother, Maude, was at work, not getting off until 10 o’clock that night, which meant John was drinking to pass the time. He turned his head to look at the two boys standing at the door. Andrew pushed Axl towards. Axl stepped back. He was now less than an inch away from Andrew

“What he done did, Drew?” John asked in his strong country accent.

Axl could hear Andrew chuckle. “Kissing boys, Pops.”

You could hear a pin drop in the room with how silent it was in there.The first person to move after a period where they all stood still was John. He started to undo his belt. Axl knew what that meant. As if a trigger was pulled, Mia covered her ears and looked at the wall behind her. John charged at him. He tried to run, but Andrew held him down. John swatted the belt at him, striking the outer part of his leg. It stung.

Axl kicked and kicked and kicked in an attempt to break from Andrew’s hold. He failed. Andrew had a tight grip on him. John struck him again on the arm, leaving behind a red mark.

“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again! I’m sorry!” Axl pleaded, tasting the salt of his tears.

“You better be sorry,” John grumbled.

He finally stopped swinging. Andrew let him go. Axl immediately ran to his and Mia’s room, falling onto his bed. He buried his face into his pillow, letting the tears run wild. The sting from the seats lingered on his skin. Loud footsteps could be heard approaching him. He quickly jumped up, afraid his father had returned to continue. However, he was met with Mia’s terrified eyes. He apologized for scaring her. She ran to him and wrapped her arms around. He pulled her into his lap, resting his head on top of hers as they snuggled. She looked up at him with tears in his eyes.

“Don’t cry, Mia.” Axl soothed, brushing back her brown hair.

She sniffed. “I thought-I thought-I thought he was going to kill you, Billy.”

She cried harder, hugging herself tightly against his chest. Axl didn’t know what to say. He thought he was going to kill him, too.

“It’s going to be okay, Mia” was all he could come up with.

Axl wasn’t going to make that a promise. John was getting more violent by the day. He was sure that one day he was going to snap and…do despicable things. John and Andrew went to the gun range almost every weekend. They had a passion for weapons of different kinds. That was the one thing they bonded over as father and son. Axl knew John wasn’t afraid to use it. He could recall the day he came home from school to witness John threatening his mother with a pistol against her head. His finger inches from pulling the trigger. Axl sat there and watched as John threatened to shoot her if he dared to call the police.

From that day forward, he tried to stay on John’s good side, if there was even one, to keep Mia safe. The pressures of school and being basically the only caregiver of his little sister was becoming too much for him. Some days he wanted to end it. To take John's gun and put a bullet into his own head, but he knew if he did, there would be nobody to give Mia the care she deserved. He would rather live with this feeling than see her get hurt whilst his soul is free.

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"You’re who I want." (Michael Kinsella x F!Reader)

Time for Day 3 of the Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! For Day Three, I chose to combine the fluff and angst prompts ("I feel real when I'm with you" and 'Broken'), and I also decided to try my hand at one of Charlie Cox's other characters for once, that being our favorite sad, tragic, sweetheart of a mobster Michael Kinsella! You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me. Also, if you'd like notifications when I post a new story, drabble, or chapter, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications! And off we go!

Ship: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader

Wordcount: 2k

Warnings for this chapter, let's do this: mentions of blood, kiss at the end, angst (but with a happy ending obvs)

It was Birdy that called you right as you were getting ready to settle in for the night, the heavy downpour a drumbeat against your windows that you’d hoped would lull you to sleep. But that wasn’t in your cards tonight, it seemed. 

“He’s headed yer way. Things… didn’t go well tonight.” 

Not for the first time, you quietly cursed the way the Kinsellas had dragged Michael back into their business as you dug out the first aid kit, setting it beside a change of clothes and a few clean towels to help Michael dry off when he arrived. You didn’t care what the Kinsellas got up to on their own time, who they sold to and what their business was. What you cared about was whether Michael had wanted this. But he was a loyal man, endlessly devoted to family, something Amanda was all too happy to take advantage of. 

You had thoughts on that, too, but that would also have to wait. 

 “We lost a few o’ ours. He managed ta turn it around at the last second, but… Well, the family argued after. Things were said ta him, and…”

Some nights, though, you wondered just how long Michael had left before he broke beneath that weight—the weight of expectation and a grim responsibility he shouldered without complaint, even as he began to crumble beneath it. In the two years since you’d met this beautiful, quiet man in that small coffee shop, you’d watched those brittle cracks form. Over time, as he gradually began to let you in, you’d discovered the far deeper fissures that lay buried beneath. Your lack of fear, your absence of judgement over what he’d done, had only opened that door further, until he began to seek you out as you did him. Time passed, and your orbits were brought closer and closer together, spiraling planets caught inevitably in the pull of each other’s gravity.   

Neither of you had named what this was. But if he could find comfort here, safety here, then you’d happily give it. 

 “Just… be gentle with him, dear.” 

Somehow, even the knock at your door sounded exhausted. You hurried out of the kitchen where you’d been filling up the kettle—you’d learned very quickly how important it was to have it ready at all hours when you’d moved to Ireland—and headed down the hall to the front door. You unlocked the door and tugged it open, letting in the roaring sound of the rain and a gust of chilled wind. 

“Oh, Michael,” you whispered. 

He was soaked to the bone, dark hair plastered down against his skin as he leaned tiredly against the doorframe, his body wracked with shivers from the cold. What was worse: even with the rain, you could still see traces of blood on his shirt and hands, more of it leaking steadily from a split on his lip. Fortunately, only the blood on his mouth seemed to belong to him. He tried to throw you a small smile, but it was far too crooked, too brittle to be real, and you had a feeling his eyes weren’t red because of the rain. The moment he seemed to realize you didn’t buy it, that shield fell away, and you were left with just Michael at his most exposed, empty and exhausted. 

“That bad, eh?” he asked tiredly, trying for humor and missing by miles.

“Shit, get in here before you freeze.” You caught his arm and tugged him forward until you could quickly shut the door behind him. He didn’t fight you on it physically, for which you were grateful, but he couldn’t seem to resist at least a little verbal stubbornness. 

“I’m gettin’ yer floors all wet,” he said. Without the need to pretend, his tone had gone empty and lifeless, stripped of all energy, as if he’d used up what little he had left on the walk over. He dropped his head, staring down at the growing puddle on the floor, his face twisting through something unreadable. “‘M sorry, pet. I shouldn’t have—”

“Floors can be dried, Mikey.” You waved the objection away, locking the door before turning back to Michael where he was standing shivering in the hall as if he were reluctant to take up any further space, as if he feared he were unwelcome. And something about it, about the way he seemed to barely be holding himself together, just… broke your heart. “Come here.”

He shivered again, even as he shook his head, arms wrapped around himself. You could almost see him changing his mind, a wave of regret rearing up inside him, flashing in the dark of his eyes, eyes still looking too damp for just the rain. “I’ll… I’ll get blood on ya.” “I don’t care.”

He clenched his jaw, still refusing to look at you. Some of the blood on him had joined the puddle of rainwater at his feet, the pale tile darkening to a rusty pink. “No, I-I shoulda stopped ‘a home first, cleaned up. And it’s late, yer clearly dressed for bed. We can talk another time—”

You crossed the distance between you both before he could take a single step towards the door. He went stiff the moment you pulled him into you, but you let him work through it as you wound your arms tightly around him, hooking the fingers of one hand in his belt loops, making it clear you weren’t going anywhere. You used the other hand to stroke gently down his back, heedless of the water and blood that began to dampen your clothes, breathing in the scent of whiskey and leather, of gun oil and rain and blood. “Stop worrying about my clothes or the floors, you silly man,” you said softly, setting your chin on his shoulder as his breath hitched. “I don’t care about those. I care about you, Michael. No matter what happens, that won’t change. I’ll stand here all night with you if I have to.”

He choked out a shaking breath against your hair, and you could feel it the moment he began to break, his hands tentatively finding their way around your waist, as if he were still half-convinced it would be rejected. Something far warmer than rain dripped against your neck. “Why?” he whispered. “I don’t understand. I have nothin’ ta give ya. Ta give anyone. I keep tryin’ to be what everyone needs, but I can’t even do tha’ right. Why do ya keep openin’ the door for a broken man, pet?”

“You might be hurt, but you’re far from broken,” you murmured, turning your head to lay it on his shoulder as his hold gradually tightened around you, his hands beginning to fist in the fabric of your shirt. Another shaky breath from him, more of his tears falling against your throat as he finally let his head fall to your neck, accepting what you’d offered. “I let you in because I just need you. You’re who I want. So you can let go, Mikey. There’s nothing here you need to fix, no one else you need to be.” 

That was all it took, and between one breath and the next, he crumbled in your arms, the entire terrible night, terrible year, terrible life tearing its way out of him in choked sobs. You held him as tightly as you could, soft, soothing whispers in his ears, your hands running gently down his back and through his hair as he let go of every last wall he’d put up between him and the outside world. 

It took time for that wave of emotion to ease, time you spent with your head on his shoulder, with your chest to his, until eventually the shaking of his body began to slow, his breath easing against your throat. Only then did you guide him to the bathroom, taking the time to clean him up. He accepted the care silently, his eyes half closed, his form slumped and exhausted, drained after the emotional release. You knew better than to press before he was ready, so you let the quiet have its place, though every now and then you’d lift his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

You left him alone just long enough for him to change. You were glad he now kept a few changes of clothes here. It was another unspoken intimacy between you both, the knowledge that this place was a retreat for him just as his home sometimes was for you, even if neither of you had said as much. Once he was changed, you tipped your head before heading towards the bedroom. He hesitated, just for a moment, and you paused in the doorway, waiting.

It wasn’t every time he came here that you both wound up curled up together. Just on those bad nights, those nights when one of you needed each other’s presence to act as a shield against nightmares, against grief or hurt. Until now, however, it had always taken place on the couch, the two of you dozing off together under the excuse that you’d never intended to fall asleep at all. Tonight, however, you just… thought he deserved a bed. That you and he had never taken this step before hung heavy between you, weighted and intimate. Neither of you had dared offer access to the other’s bed until now. Hell, you hadn’t even kissed yet, though there’d been… moments when you’d both come close, dancing along that edge. Somehow you knew there’d be no going back after this, no more pretending, even if no one had believed either of you before now when you’d both sworn you were simply friends.

And after a long moment… the soft padding of his footsteps began to follow. 

The bed came first, soft sheets and the gradually returning warmth of him, one of your arms draped over his waist as he buried his face in your hair, the two of you twined together so closely that there was no space at all between you. 

Then came his voice, the soft lilt of it soothing you as much as your touch seemed to be soothing him. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without ya’,” he sighed, his breath slowly easing. He nuzzled at you gently, and you tipped your head up to meet his eyes. The warmth in them took your breath away, filled with a tender light and a devotion so deep you knew you could spend the rest of your life searching for the end and never find it. “Every time I think I’ve lost who I am, yer’ there ta bring me back. I feel… I feel real when I’m with ya’. I…” 

His eyes searched yours for a moment before he seemed to make a decision. He dipped his head down slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. Instead, you tilted your head back, your hand sliding up to tangle in his hair as his lips met yours. 

The kiss was a soft, new thing, fragile as spun strands of glass. His lips still tasted a little of copper and whiskey, chapped from the cold night air, but his breath was warm, and his mouth moved against yours with a hesitance that swiftly gave way to confidence as you leaned into him, using your fingers in his hair to pull him in closer. His name on your lips was a sigh, a gift to him, one he breathed down as if he wanted to draw it down into the very heart of him. When he finally pulled away, he lay his forehead against yours, his eyes falling closed. You reached up to stroke your fingers warmly against his cheek, and he smiled, eyes crinkling, even if they stayed closed. “Wanted ta do that for a long time, now,” he admitted. “Not long after we met, if ’m honest.” “I may or may not have wanted the same thing,” you huffed softly, his smile growing. 

“Can I take ya ta breakfast tomorrow?”

You made a contented noise as you curled into him, and he wound around you, the two of you getting comfortable for the night. It felt… permanent, as if you two had simply been waiting to find your way here, this place you were both meant for. 

“I’d love that.”

And maybe tomorrow... you'd tell him you loved him, too.

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You’re My Red Rose

Description: After years of hiding his feelings, Slash admits them to Axl with the help of flower crowns.

Relationship: Axl Rose x Slash

Prompt: “Why? Why do you love me?”, Flower Crowns (Day 2)

(Axl and Slash are both 18 years old in this fic and seniors in high school)

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1980

Axl was lying his head on Slash’s lap, smoothing his hand through the wet grass of the meadow. The sun was starting to set. He admired Slash’s strong jawlines and sweet, brown eyes while Slash was doing something with the flowers they had picked earlier.

Life was getting hard to live. Slash’s kindness and beauty ade it worth living. He wouldn’t be able to handle a universe where he would be without his chocolate eyes, his sweet voice, or his smooth skin. From the very first day they met two years before in the 10th grade, Slash always made him feel at peace.

“Look what I made you,” Slash announced, lifting his creation up to show him.

Axl sat up. It was a flower crown made with twigs tied together and bits of daisies, roses, dandelions, and lilies. Slash placed it on top of Axl’s head. It was a perfect fit.

“How do I look?” Axl asked.

It didn’t take long for Slash to answer. “Cute.”

“Cute?” Axl furrowed his eyebrows.

Axl’s face went hot. He always thought Slash was attractive, but he didn’t know if the feelings were mutual. During school hours, Slash and Axl barely saw each other due to their conflicting class schedules. Whenever he did, a girl was always hanging from his arms. He was a ladies’ man. The girls loved him and he never rejected them, so calling him cute surprised and confused him greatly.

“Yes, cute. Beautiful actually.” He caressed his cheek. “From the first time I saw you, I always thought that. It’s probably way too early to say these very strong words, but I don’t care. Life is short to dwell. I love you.”

Axl’s heart pounded in his chest. “Why? Why do you love me? What about all those girls you were drooling over?”

“I was putting on a show because I was still figuring out who I was. I love you because you brought out the real me. I love you because you’re not afraid to be you around me. I love you because you’re Axl. Do you love me? You can say no. I won’t be upset if you do.”

Axl pulled him close, bringing him into a kiss. Before pulling away, Slash licked his lips.

“I do love you, Slash. I don’t have that many words to show it, but I do.”

Axl straddled his legs around Slash’s waist. They pressed their foreheads together, enjoying this moment between them. There was this weird feeling that someone was watching them. Axl moved back and looked in the distance. A dark and tall silhouette was standing next to a tree about 30 feet away from where he and Slash were.

It was his older stepbrother, Andrew.

His heart dropped into his stomach. His stepbrother most definitely saw everything that just happened.

“I-I have to go. My parents would be worried.” Axl stood in a hurry.

“See you tomorrow.”

Axl nodded. He didn’t want to go home. Their stepfather was there. Andrew would tell him what he saw without any consideration for what would happen. But he had to go. Axl met up with Andrew, who stared at him with a smirk.

“Is that your little boyfriend?” Andrew asked in a teasing tone.

“No, he’s just my friend.” Axl kept his head down as they walked to their trailer.

“That’s not what I saw. You know Dad will blow a gasket when he hears about this.”

“Please, don’t tell him. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Nah, Dad doesn’t like when we keep secrets.”

Tears streamed down his face as they walked home. There was no convincing him. Andrew was a miniature version of his father. He loved seeing him in pain.

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On Your Knees, Devil

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 6k [Tuna-Tober Masterlist]

Tuna-Tober Prompt: Role Reversal

Warnings/tags: 18+; pure filthy smut, dom!Reader/sub!Devil, smidge of roughness (very slight), fingering, f!oral receiving, cocky Matt and mouthy Devil (they definitely need a warning)

Summary: You've never been one to take control in the bedroom–until tonight, when you're determined to draw out the Devil and make him submit to you.

a/n: I was unhinged the week when I wrote this, and I'll admit, it's a bit different from my usual smut. Enjoy the filth. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

“Oh come on,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Now you're just being cocky.”

Matt smirked at you from his place on the leather couch, sinking deeper back into the cushions as he spread his legs further apart. “I'm just being honest with you, sweetheart,” he replied, casually tossing an arm over the backrest. “You couldn't handle the Devil, and you certainly wouldn't be able to bend him to your will.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you arched a brow at Matt from across the coffee table. You could feel your frustration rising the more he kept dismissing you.

“How would you know?” you questioned. “You've never been with anyone as the Devil before, Matt. Because none of your previous flings ever knew your big secret like I do.”

“Sweetheart,” Matt began, his smirk growing wider, “you're far too soft spoken in the bedroom. Loud in other ways but–and I don't want you to take this wrong–you just…would not be able to handle that side of me. Especially not with you being the one in control.”

“You don’t know that,” you scoffed.

He shot you a pointed look, his head tilting to the side. Your jaw clenched at the sight of it.

“You’ve never been in that role before, sweetheart,” he said. “If you want to play out whatever’s in your head with me, then I’m all for it. But we’re not bringing that side of me into this. Certainly not like that.”

“Why not?” you demanded.

Matt sighed, leaning back into the leather of the couch. “It’s just not that simple. You don’t have any experience and you want to just immediately go straight to controlling the Devil? That’s…a little out of your league, sweetheart.”

Your eyes narrowed back at him, your spine straightening as his words only further increased your determination. Matt was clearly picking up on the subtle shifts in your body, and each one only seemed to grow that arrogant smirk on his face. A smirk you wanted to wipe from his lips with each passing second.

“What’s the harm in letting me try?” you asked, voice darkening.

The corners of Matt’s lips twitched at your tone, clearly catching your growing irritation. “The harm, sweetheart,” he began, his response already grating on your nerves, “is that if you don’t know what you’re doing, this could all go down in a way that we both regret. The Devil isn’t…he’s not just some costume I throw on. He’s–he’s a part of me. A darker part of me.”

“I know, Matt,” you told him. “I’ve been with you for almost a year. I’ve met the Devil. On many occasions and in many different moods. I know exactly who the Devil is and I've always wanted that side of you just as much as this one.”

Over on the couch, Matt expelled a long sigh. “I know we’ve been together for awhile, and yes, you’ve seen that side of me. And I love that you still love me despite that–”

“In spite of it,” you muttered. “I love all of you.”

Matt grinned at your comment before he continued, “But you still don’t have any experience in this area. And I just–just don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to ‘let the Devil out’ as you called it.”

For a moment you stood there, eyeing Matt so casually sprawled out on the leather couch. He couldn’t look any more smug with the way he was practically taking up the whole piece of furniture, his lips still quirked into an arrogant smirk. As you stood there staring at him, an idea gradually began to form in your mind.

“So you won’t just let the Devil out,” you began slowly, studying him closely, “but would you be opposed to me drawing him out myself?”

Matt’s lips twisted into something like a smile before he regained his composure, almost as if he was about to laugh at the idea. A heat flamed within you at the sight, your resolve to tame the Devil only growing by the second.

“And how do you plan to do that?” he asked, amused. “Are you going to rob a bank to lure him out? Mug someone on the street, sweetheart?”

He chuckled at the thought, a deep rumbling sound. The noise had your hands curling into fists where they were crossed over your chest but you fought back your annoyance. You knew he wouldn’t be laughing for long.

“I asked you a question and I expect an answer,” you demanded.

Matt’s amusement quickly subsided at the seriousness in your tone, his own eyes narrowing back at you. A muscle jumped in his cheek before he spoke.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Matt replied. “If you can manage to draw the Devil out, I'll let you. You think you can handle the situation? Then by all means, you can go ahead and try.”

Arching a brow at Matt, you uncrossed your arms, sensually sliding one hand down your body to the waistband of your sleep shorts. Two fingers toyed with the edge of it, your focus on Matt. 

“You think I can't?” you challenged back. 

Matt's eyes darkened, his unseeing gaze seemingly following the path of your hand as it had traveled down your body. You had his attention now, at least.

“You think that's going to draw out the Devil?” he goaded. “You think that's enough to do it?”

Your hand slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts, your fingers gently running back and forth along your cunt over your panties. Your breath hitched just before you caught the slight flare of Matt's nostrils–exactly what you were looking for. 

“I think I know more than you realize,” you told him.

Matt's eyes further narrowed back at you, his arm lowering from the back of the couch as he leaned forward, his smirk gradually shrinking. You definitely had his attention now. 

“And just what do you think you know, sweetheart?” he shot back.

Squaring your shoulders, aware of the dampness that had begun to soak through your panties, your fingers continued running along yourself. “I know the scent of me makes you lose your mind,” you stated.

Matt's lip twitched at the corners, his nostrils flaring even more sharply at your words. You were right and he damn well knew it.

“And I know you can hear how wet I'm becoming right now,” you continued. “I can see how it's affecting you. You can’t hide that from me.”

“You're going to need to do a hell of a lot more than that if you want the Devil,” he countered. 

Slipping your fingers into your panties, you grinned back at Matt as you ran them between your damp folds. “Oh, I know.”

Judging by the way he was shifting on the couch, his nostrils repeatedly flaring as his hands gripped the cushions, you could tell he was inhaling the scent of you. You'd been with Matt plenty of times to know exactly what your arousal did to him, but there was one thing that had never happened before, one thing you had never done. 

Matt had never been denied a taste or a simple touch before. Until now.

“I told you earlier–I want the Devil tonight Matt,” you reminded him. “On his knees and at my feet.”

Matt huffed out a laugh, his gaze briefly flickering to the floor in front of you before it returned to where your fingers were still running back and forth delicately through your damp folds. You knew he could hear the wet sounds they were making and you knew the scent of your arousal in the air was only increasing with every pass of your fingers.

“You're playing a dangerous game, sweetheart,” Matt warned you. 

“I know what I'm doing,” you replied.

“Do you?” he asked.

You slid your fingers towards your soaked entrance, your other hand sliding up beneath your shirt. The tips of your fingers barely grazed the underside of your breast and you saw Matt's grip tighten on the couch.

“If you want a taste,” you told him slowly, enunciating each word, “or a touch, Matt, you'll do what you're told. Otherwise you get nothing tonight. You hear me? Nothing.”

Matt’s lip curled back into a partial sneer at your words, his gaze somehow darkening even more at the thought. He clearly didn’t like the idea of you denying him the opportunity to pleasure you, let alone denying him a simple taste–something you’d already guessed he’d be exceptionally unhappy to hear. 

“You wouldn’t,” he ground out.

“You can listen to me take care of myself, I’ll let you do that,” you continued, your hand snaking its way up to tweak a nipple as Matt’s lip tugged further back into a snarl. “But when I’m done and I fall asleep in bed afterwards, I know you'll still be awake smelling the scent of me lingering all over the apartment. And while I’m contentedly dreaming, you'll be laying there in bed as the sounds I made–that you love so much–replay over and over in your mind.”

Matt sat stiff on the couch, his elbows now resting along his knees as he leaned forward towards you. His head was cocked even further to the side, his lips still drawn back into a snarl that was bordering on animalistic at your words. His control over the Devil was slipping, that much you could see already. Though it wasn’t Matt that would be your biggest fight, you knew that, but you were certainly thrilled at the sight of him like this. The challenge of bringing the Devil to his knees next was only increasing the dampness pooling between your thighs.

“Really trying to push me over the edge, aren’t you?” he gritted between his teeth.

Slipping two fingers finally into yourself, you loosed a soft sigh at the sensation. On the couch, Matt struggled to contain himself as you slowly pumped your fingers into yourself, your hand on your breast tugging at your nipple. Matt’s knuckles almost turned white as he gripped the cushions tighter.

“Give me the Devil, Matt,” you demanded. “Stop holding back already.”

Visibly teetering on the edge of entirely losing his composure, Matt’s lip began to repeatedly twitch. A deep rumble vibrated in his chest at your words and you knew he was close to losing his control. 

“Careful there, sweetheart,” he warned.

Pressing the heel of your hand against your clit, a jolt of pleasure shot through you as you sunk your fingers deeper inside. Matt lurched to the edge of the couch cushion now, his body tensed and ready to pounce. He needed a nudge, just a little one, and then you’d have him.

“Let the Devil out, Matt,” you pressed.

The look on his face in conjunction with what you were already doing to yourself had the quietest little moan slip out of your lips. And that was all it took. 

Matt’s demeanor shifted instantly. His eyes darkened to something predatory and dangerous before he launched himself off of the leather couch. An excited thrill shot through your body as he took just three brief strides to close the distance between you. And then he was standing before you, one hand darting out lightning quick before his fingers were tightly gripping you by the chin and tilting your face up towards his.

“You wanted the Devil, sweetheart?” he growled out in that familiar gravely tone. “You got him.”

“I said no touching,” you reminded him, your fingers pausing their movements as you stared back at him.

“Do you think I care about your rules?” he challenged. “Your body is begging for me right now. I can hear it.”

“No, it's not,” you disagreed, shaking your head in his hold. “And I know you'll follow my rules because I know you'd never do anything that I don’t consent to.  And right now, I didn't say you could touch me, Devil.”

Frustration and annoyance flashed in his eyes as they focused on your mouth while you spoke. His teeth noticeably ground together, his fingers still gripping your chin. You arched an eyebrow at him, knowing full well no matter the situation, Matt would never pass one of your boundaries–even as the Devil. Another moment passed before the Devil growled in aggravation, his fingers abruptly releasing you before his hand dropped back to his side. A shudder of pride burned in you as he did. He wasn’t on his knees yet, but you were positive you'd get him there.

“Fine,” he spat. “I won’t touch you. But don’t think for a second you’re the one in control here.”

With a pleased grin on your lips, you slid your two fingers out from inside of yourself before removing them from your panties. The Devil’s head snapped down towards your hand, tracking its movement as you held up the two glistening fingers in the space between you both. He was almost immobile now, completely fixated on your fingers.

“Every time we’ve been together,” you began in a hushed tone, reveling in the way he was locked on to your fingers, “you always like to call me yours. ‘My good girl,’” you repeated. “So tonight, I want you to be my good little Devil.”

“Think I’m some pet to tame?” he ground out between his teeth. “Think you can control me?”

“Oh, I know exactly how you operate,” you assured him, watching the way he was still focused on your fingers. You knew the scent of your arousal so close to his face was taking every bit of his willpower to hold back from sucking your digits into his mouth. “Those senses of yours can get overwhelmed, and you’ve never been the most patient. Doesn’t help that I can see how much the scent of me is affecting you. You want a taste don’t you, Devil?”

A low growl reverberated through his chest in response. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as his gaze never wavered. Satisfied at his answer, you drew the fingers up to your mouth and slipped them inside, your tongue lapping over them instead of his. You grinned when another deep, irritated rumble vibrated in his chest. You knew you were beginning to do more than frustrate him now.

Slowly you slid the fingers back out of your mouth, enjoying the irritation evident on his face. His body was tense with his restraint, struggling to resist the urge to just tear your clothing off and have you. The thought that he knew he couldn't was incredibly exhilarating. 

“Think you can keep teasing and taunting me without any consequences?” he questioned sharply. “You're pushing me, sweetheart.”

“Mmm, I think,” you hummed out as you turned towards the bedroom, “that you're all bark and no bite. You've got absolutely nothing to use against me tonight because there's only one thing I want.”

You gradually began to make your way to the bedroom, grinning when you heard his soft footsteps following after you. He was honed in on you now, his attention fixed. You just had to outlast his stubbornness and you'd have him.

“You really think you've got the upper hand here,” he asked, voice dark and low. 

Pausing halfway to the bed, you glanced over your shoulder and saw him stop directly in the doorway. His expression was almost pained beneath his scowl.

“Well you're already following me like a dog,” you teasingly pointed out. “Leaves me to wonder what you think you could possibly tempt me with?”

The Devil's face darkened at your question, a devious smirk curling his lips upwards. “I can give you an entire evening of pleasure like you've never experienced before, sweetheart,” he promised. “Stop this little game now and I'll push your body past its limits until you can hardly feel it anymore. I can make you forget your own name for a few hours. You know I can.”

Walking the rest of the way to the bed, you felt a rush of warmth flood you at his words. You'd never slept with Matt when he was like this before, but you'd always been tempted. You were curious to know what the Devil would be like in the bedroom after all the times you'd seen him come home worked up from patrol, but despite how enticing his offer was, it still wasn’t what you wanted.

“The only thing I want,” you repeated carefully as you sat down on the end of the bed and faced him, “is you right here on your knees doing what I tell you to. And I know you can hear the truth in my words.”

You pointed at the ground in front of your feet, accentuating what you'd said. Another flash of frustration shone back at you in his eyes as his smirk entirely disappeared. His jaw tightened once more, determination to fight you still written across his face. Despite his rigid posture and the way he remained in the doorway, you noticed how he'd gone temporarily quiet. The knowledge that he had no leverage, no way to tease you and distract you, had him closer to breaking. You could feel it.

“Still need more encouragement?” you asked coyly.

Hands grabbing onto both your shorts and your underwear, you gradually pushed them down your legs before tossing them carelessly off to the side of the bed. The Devil’s hands began to clench and unclench at his sides but he didn't move from his place in the threshold. With your lower half now exposed, the unobstructed scent of your arousal was likely driving him mad. Lightly resting your hand along your stomach, the tips of your fingers just barely brushed the sensitive bundle of nerves as you settled in to give him the last few pushes over the edge.

“You have two options, Devil,” you told him, watching his nostrils sharply flaring back at you. “You can stand there and keep fighting me and I'll happily get off on my own just watching you. Or you can tell me that you'll be my good little Devil and I'll let you help me.”

A dangerous snarl tore out of his chest at your second option. The sound sent a delicious wave of arousal through your body, your skin practically humming in response. But he still didn't answer, continuing to remain silent. His lack of response had you grinning, especially when you caught the bulge now poking through his gray sweatpants.

“That your choice then?” you asked.

Fingers moving down a fraction, you began to gently draw circles over your clit. A soft, pleased sigh slipped out of your lips as you lowered back onto the bed, resting on one elbow. Eyes falling shut, you focused on pleasuring yourself, enjoying the fact that he was still standing in the doorway focused on you while you did. 

“You're not going to get off right in front of me,” he snapped.

You opened your eyes, attention returning to him by the door. He'd taken a single step into the bedroom now, that pained expression becoming further visible on his face. That one step said more than he realized.

“I'll finish without you,” you warned him with a sly grin. “Show you how little I need you.”

Back arching along the bed, you caught the second step he took towards you as a feral snarl tore through the bedroom. Your finger began to move a little quicker as you added a bit more pressure along your clit, your breath coming in sharper.

“I'm not going to make this easy for you,” he growled.

Laughing lightly, your eyes fell shut once more as a shudder raced up your spine. It was an empty threat and you both knew it.

“Not a damn thing you can do, Devil,” you told him, breath coming in quick pants as another surge of pleasure raced through you. “You're not allowed to touch. Not until you–” 

Your sentence broke off on a soft moan, the noise loud in the otherwise silent bedroom. With your eyes still closed, you could almost feel his senses raking over you, taking in the racing of your heart, the scent of your arousal, the blood rushing through your body, the flush in your cheeks. 

“Not until you agree to be my good little Devil,” you finished, eyelids fluttering back open.

He’d taken another step closer now, standing barely two feet away from you. His jaw was tensed, his teeth grinding back and forth as the muscle repeatedly jumped in his cheek. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, his shoulders drawn up to his neck. You could hear his sharp breaths each time his nostrils flared now. Biting your lip, you tilted your head to the side as you once more slid your fingers through your damp folds, teasing your entrance. The sensation had your eyes almost closing, but you fought to keep them open, watching as he almost took another step closer.

“Last chance, Devil,” you told him. “Come here or I'll finish without you.”

A dark, almost guttural growl tore straight out of his chest in sheer frustration. Removing your hand from yourself, you sat up on the edge of the bed. His unseeing gaze once more snapped directly down towards your damp fingers, his tongue yet again darting out along his lips hungrily. 

“Come here, Devil,” you ordered. 

An almost imperceptible whine slipped out of his lips before he grudgingly closed the remaining distance between you both. You smiled at the sight, realizing he was on the cusp of submitting–even if reluctantly. Leaning closer towards him, you reached your hand up to his face. His sightless eyes managed to track the movement almost perfectly until you’d gripped him by the chin, your fingers intentionally near his mouth but not remotely touching it. A rough grunt fell out of him at your touch, his eyes narrowing back at you.

“You’re going to regret this later,” he warned. “I can promise you that, sweetheart.”

“We’ll see about that, Devil,” you murmured, still holding his chin. “But for now, you need to do what you’re told.”

His lip twitched in response, his eyes glaring darkly at you. Biting your lip, you gave a little tug downwards on his chin.

“On your knees, Devil,” you ordered.

A deep, rumbling snarl slipped out of his lips at your order and the way you’d tugged his chin, but you held your ground as you sat on the edge of the bed. Seconds passed as he stood there towering over you, a fire burning in his eyes that was a mix of desire, need, and sheer agitation. But then gradually, ever so slowly, you saw him finally and reluctantly sink down to his knees before you, his lips still curled back into a frustrated sneer. A slow, triumphant smile spread across your mouth as you continued to hold his chin firmly between your wet fingers.

“Are you going to be my good little Devil?” you asked.

“Enjoy this moment while you can,” he growled up at you. “Because it’s never happening again, sweetheart. I’ll have you on your knees–”

“Are you going to be my good little Devil?” you questioned more firmly, cutting him off mid sentence.

An irate growl rumbled in his throat. “Is it necessary to call me that?”

“Answer the question,” you ordered.

His eyes narrowed further back at you, his hands slowly coming up to rest along the bed on either side of your hips. A shudder ran through you as he gripped the mattress tight, your cunt clenching around air at the sight of him like this before you. His attention immediately snapped down to the space between your thighs, an almost choked noise getting caught in his throat.

“Yes,” he ground out.

Releasing his chin, you slowly set both of your legs over his shoulders before leaning back and resting your elbows along the bed. You stared down at him, comfortable on the bed as he sat gnawing on his bottom lip just before you, his sightless eyes staring longingly at one part of your body in particular. 

“That’s my good little Devil,” you praised.

A sharp grunt met your words and you grinned. He might’ve been irritated, but he was technically still obeying. 

“Do you want to get me off?” you asked him. “Is that what you want?”

“I want to make you feel so good you can’t do anything but scream,” he snarled back. “Want to hear that pretty little mouth crying up there. Show you how much you do need me, sweetheart.”

“Watch yourself, Devil,” you warned. “You’re getting a little too feisty down there.”

“What did you expect?” he snapped. “This is the closest thing you’re going to get to what you want with me. You can’t tame me. Can’t control me.”

Your eyes narrowed at his challenge. “Yeah? Take one taste, Devil. Go on.”

With his hands gripping the bed tighter on either side of your hips, he leaned in and swiped the flat of his tongue entirely up the length of you, as if trying to taste as much of you as he could. Your eyes snapped shut the second he’d touched you, the sound of his throaty groan cutting straight through the bedroom. Opening your eyes a second later, you saw his own eyes had closed, his face contorted into a mix of pleasure and pain before he released a long, low growl.

“You want more?” you whispered down to him.

His eyes snapped open at your voice, their focus finding your chin. He blinked a few times, his expression wavering between bliss and frustration.

“Yes,” he ground out.

“You’re going to be my good little Devil then, do you understand?” you asked.

“Yes,” he grunted.

“That’s a good little Devil,” you replied. “Fingers first. Prove you can behave, then maybe I’ll let you use your mouth.”

A frustrated noise rumbled in his chest in response, but he didn’t argue back this time. Instead, one of his hands released his tight grip along the bed before he lifted it over your leg and left it hovering in front of your soaked entrance. His lips twitched again before his tongue slipped out, gliding along the length of his bottom lip. A jolt of excitement raced through you at the sight, anticipation of what was about to happen taking hold of you as you held your breath, awaiting his touch.

Two of his thick fingers finally began to slide back and forth delicately along your entrance, teasing you just a little as your arousal gathered along his fingertips. Then slowly he slid them up through your folds towards your clit with a faint groan of pleasure. With the slightest pressure, he began lightly tracing the exact patterns to immediately cause your hips to squirm along the bed. A satisfied rumble met your ears as your eyes fell shut and your breath came in faster.

His other hand released the bed, grabbing the thigh resting along his shoulder in a tight vice as he yanked you further towards him. A surprised gasp flew out of you as you slid forward on the bed, your eyes reopening at the movement. You’d been about to chastise him for what he’d just done, but the sight of the devilish grin on his lips had your mouth momentarily going dry. As much as you wanted to appear confident in this situation, you couldn’t deny that the Devil was certainly a challenge, even if he was mostly obeying you now.

After a moment, his fingers traveled back down towards your entrance, the sensitive bundle of nerves above still desperate for his attention. But instead he slipped a single digit inside of you, sinking it in as far as it could go. Your breath hitched in response, your hips raising just a fraction off of the bed. The Devil immediately pushed you back down with the hand gripping your thigh, holding you still on the mattress.

“I want more,” he growled.

His eyes darted up to you as his finger began to pump in and out of you, the wet squelch with each thrust loud even to you. Your heart was hammering in your chest, your body begging to reach your climax after everything that had been leading up to this moment.

“And I can tell you do, too,” he said. “Don’t deny it.”

“Bit–bit mouthy for one who’s supposed to be behaving,” you stammered out, the continued waves of pleasure causing your mind to cloud. 

“I want a taste,” he shot back, his finger pumping a bit more roughly into you as he said it. “I’m doing what you want, sweetheart. Now give me what I want.”

Your eyelids fluttered as he stuck a second finger inside, his pace moving agonizingly slow on purpose. Struggling to focus, you tried to formulate a coherent thought, but it was difficult to do with his hot breath washing over you as he worked.

“That sounded more like a command, Devil,” you replied, trying your best to stay focused. “Try that again.”

A frustrated rumble sounded in the room, mixing with the wet sounds of his fingers fucking you. Your breath was coming in shallower now, your body getting closer and closer to your climax. You knew he could tell, and you knew he’d do what you wanted before you came. Because you knew he’d want his mouth on you when you did.

His eyes closed as his head snapped to the side. A look of distaste crossed his features before he spoke. “Let me use my mouth…please.”

Your cunt tightened around his fingers when you heard the Devil actually beg you. The power you felt at that one word alone almost had you toppling over the edge, but you fisted the sheets in your hands and tried to hold on a bit longer.

“That’s–that’s my good little Devil,” you breathed out. “You ask, you don’t–don’t demand.”

The sound of his irritated growl broke on a whine this time and your eyes darted straight to him. His fingers were still sinking into you repeatedly, but it seemed as if his composure was breaking the wetter you were becoming.

“Please,” he ground out. “Let me get you there. The way I know your body is begging for it.”

Your breath hitched at his unexpected and sincere plea, but you found yourself wanting a little more. “Ask again,” you demanded, trying to keep your voice even.

“Let me taste you,” he began, his usually husky, dark tone laced with growing desperation. “Please, let me–let me take care of you how I know you need it. Please.”

Struggling to keep your orgasm from crashing into you, you nodded quickly. “Yes, use–use your mouth,” you whispered back.

The Devil didn’t even wait for you to finish your sentence before his face had lunged forward, his plush lips sucking your sensitive clit right into his mouth. The sensation had a sharp cry flying out of you, your head falling back over your shoulders. He began frantically sucking on your clit, his teeth lightly grazing it at one point. The sensation caused you to hiss in pleasure, your hips fighting against his hold on you. But as his fingers inside of you never ceased their movements, relentlessly fucking into you over and over, his other hand had slid up your thigh and over your stomach. His thick, single muscular arm was holding you firm to the mattress as he brought you even closer to the brink. 

Your body felt like it was on fire with sheer pleasure, your back fighting his hold to arch along the mattress as your eyes had begun to roll back. You were close, so incredibly close. And that’s when you caught the sound of his hungry, vexed growls against your clit turning into high-pitched whines. Struggling to keep your focus, your breath repeatedly catching in your throat as you fisted the bed sheets tighter in your holder, you glanced down at the Devil. From your angle you couldn’t see much, but it almost looked as if he was struggling from rutting against the bed. The sight had a curse slipping out of your lips at just how desperate and aroused he was himself.

“Doing–alright–down there?” you panted out.

You were growing dizzy at the sensations his tongue and his fingers were giving you, your entire body feeling like it was vibrating. The Devil only responded with something like a choked moan, the sound muffled against you as he continued to diligently and determinedly get you off. That needy, desperate sound coming from the Devil–the same one criminals feared in Hell’s Kitchen’s streets–as he fought the urge to rut against the bed just from the taste of you, from the sounds your body was making in his ears, had you immediately hitting your peak.

One hand releasing the bed sheets, you reached out and gripped his forearm so tight your nails dug into his skin. He hissed against you just as your head fell limp over your shoulders, your eyes closing as your mouth went slack. A long, low moan gradually tore out of you just as you reached your climax. You felt the Devil slip his fingers out, instead using those against your clit as he worked you through your release. His mouth had latched onto your cunt, lapping at your release like a starved man. The bedroom around you filled with his strangled moans of pleasure and the wet, hungry licks of his tongue against you. 

Body suddenly heavy, you sunk down into the mattress, your eyes blinking blankly up at the ceiling. Below you, the Devil’s movements had gradually begun to take an obvious shift. You felt soft, gentle laps at your entrance before his wet mouth was gently kissing and nuzzling at your inner thighs. Struggling to sit upright on the bed, you glanced down to see Matt’s half-lidded eyes as he continued nuzzling against your leg. Reaching a hand out, you gently began to card your fingers through his hair as you tried to catch your breath.

“Matty? You good?” you asked.

“Mmm,” he hummed out, planting another kiss against your skin. “Yes. You–you taste so good.”

You smiled softly down at him, your hand coming to lightly tap the arm he still had resting along your stomach. “Hey, come up here,” you whispered.

He gently kissed your thigh once more before he sluggishly rose to his feet. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the damp patch soaking the front of his sweatpants, your eyebrows rising. 

“Matty, did you…?”

Sinking into the mattress beside you, Matt wrapped his arms around your waist and drew you towards himself with a huff. He buried his face into your shoulder, his eyes closing.

“I…guess I underestimated you,” he murmured into your skin. “That was–” he paused, teeth lightly nipping your shoulder. “I like you like that.”

“Oh you do, do you?” you teased back.

“Mhmm,” he hummed.

You grinned, resting your cheek against the top of his head as you tried to catch your breath. “We should probably get cleaned up, though,” you whispered.

Matt burrowed closer to your neck, releasing a soft sigh. “Mmm, in a minute, sweetheart,” he replied. “Let me just–just recover first.”

You laughed lightly, one hand gently resting along his thigh that was nestled beside your bare one. “Alright, my good little Devil,” you teased. 

Matt’s lips pulled into a smile against your shoulder at the praise, a soft, contented hum vibrating in his throat. You had a feeling that after tonight he wouldn’t fight you so much the next time you asked for the Devil.

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @millennial-birkin @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1 @scriptedmoon @lucienofthelakes @sarahskywalker-amidala @flowher @loves0phelia @a-half-empty-g1rl @zomtart @justvalkyrie @steve-chandler

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "You remembered?"🐟✨

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Day 12 - "You remembered?"

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader Word Count: 599 Content: Fluff! Reader is allergic to milk (sorry fam) Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: And here’s day 12! It’s a little bit short but that’s because of how much I wrote for day 11 so forgive me about the length. Also this is totally self indulgent because I have a lot of severe food allergies (more than 5) and I just figured Matt would be like one of those dogs who can smell an allergen on a food. I wrote this very quickly and it's not beta read so I apologize for any mistakes!

It’s a busy night in Josie’s bar, it was lucky that you, Matt, Foggy and Karen were able to get a booth with how crowded it is. There was barely any standing room and you could tell the noise was starting to get to Matt.

“I’ll get us some drinks,” Foggy stands up and starts to squeeze his way towards the bar.

“Our usuals please Fog!” Karen calls out, “It’s been one hell of a week.”

“You’re telling me.” Matt responds and you smile, “At least it’s the weekend now, we can relax just a little bit.” You lean against Matt and he chuckles.

“Just for a bit.” He wraps his arm around your torso and brings you closer to him to kiss you on your check.

“Ew,” Karen teases, “Get your PDA outta here.” She points towards the exit and you both laugh.

A few minutes later Foggy comes back with a tray of drinks for you all, he and Matt have the cheapest beers known to man, a rum and coke for Karen and an espresso martini for you.

You’ve been trying your best to stay up longer at night for Matt when he goes out on his patrols, so far you’ve only been awake the one night he came back, most other nights you’re barely half awake or just asleep on the couch.

As Foggy hands you your drink, you notice Matt looking confused, “What’s wrong?”

“Your drink smells different,”

“Maybe Josie used decaf or something.” You joke, bringing the drink up to your lips.

“Wait!” Matt quickly takes the glass out of your hands, bringing the drink close up to his nose, “You can’t have this.”

“Aw what? Matt, come on!” Karen says.

You give Matt a questioning look before he takes a sip of your drink, “Yeah there’s milk in this.”

“What?” Foggy spits out his drink and looks over at you, “Did you drink it?”

“No I didn’t I- wait you remembered?”

“Your milk allergy? Of course sweetheart, why wouldn’t I?” He looks at you with concern.

Karen gasps, “Was it because of a shitty ex or something? Spill.”

“No it’s just-” You look down at your hands, “People usually forget about my allergy and I don’t blame them. It can be hard to remember sometimes.”

“It’s not hard to remember,” Matt tells you, “It’s worth remembering to keep you safe.” He takes your hand in his and gives it a small squeeze. You smile at him and nod your head in thanks.

“Hey, I’ll get you a new drink. Want anything in particular, aside from an espresso martini?” Karen asks as she gets out of the booth. 

“Let’s see how Josie does on a margarita,” You say to Karen and she laughs walking up to the bar.

Foggy gestures over towards Matt, “Just be sure to have your little allergen checker make sure it’s safe for you alright?”

Matt grins, “I wouldn't want it any other way.”

Karen soon comes back with your favorite flavor of margarita and before she hands it to you she gives it to Matt. 

After a moment he sets the drink down, lips forming a thin line. 

“Well?”

“. . .It’s safe,” “Matthew!!” Foggy cries out, “How dare you put us on edge like that?!”

Matt grins, “It was a funny,”

Foggy crosses his arms and glares at Matt, “. . . yeah it was a little funny.” 

You grab your margarita and start drinking along with everyone else, thankful to have a group of loved ones who care about your food allergies and are careful of what they have around you.

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Self-Loathing🐟✨

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I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU

Hey everyone, hope you’re having a great spooky season time, for me it’s been great but I got a little busy so I didn’t have a lot of time to write, but I’ll try to catch up, for now I hope you like this little blurb and if you have any idea or a request don’t doubt to send me an ask! Have a great day, lots of loves!

Prompt: Self-loathing- tuna_tober prompts challenge

—————

You remember the first time you met Taron, you it was your second year on RADA, he was always making him notice, You were on the same acting class, but you never thought you’ll have to do scene together, you were a little shy at first, you practice your scene together but when you were done you barely saw his face. That day you were getting ready to leave the classroom when Taron calls you.

-Hey, wait- he said as you turn around -so next week is the big test with the scene- you nod- I was thinking about maybe we can practice together before the big day.

-Sounds good, do you want to do it at lunch or…

-You really hard to asked for a date, you know?

-What?- you asked confused.

-I want to go on a date with you, but I’m not sure if you’re interesting in me or maybe your not and I’m just waisting your time- he said as he was about to walk away but you took his arm.

-I’m interesting, is just that, I’m not like you, I can’t express it so easy, but I’m interesting- Taron smiled at you.

-So dinner? Tonight?- he asked you again, his smiled grew bigger when you nodded.

You been together since that day, even thought he prefer to work on movies and you prefer the theatre but you always manage to be together, he took you to his red carpets, he was in every opening of your shows, he help you with your lines just as you help him with his lines and he love to take you to the sets. Just like that day, as he was filming you usually took time to walk around the set but this time you decide to watch him work, you were fascinate with his acting, but there were something in the way he sees at his costar, you haven’t notice her before, sure he introduced you to her but it was until now that you notice how pretty she was.

-I bet he is dating her- you heard one member of the crew said, you paid attention -I don’t buy it, that the girl he brought today is his girlfriend, and if that’s true I bet he is cheating her, I mean look at the way he looks at her, you can’t act that.

Before you knew it you were in Taron’s trailer, the only thing that was on your mind was Taron’s scene and what that crew guy said. You were so absorb in your thoughts that you didn’t notice that Taron was in the trailer until he touch your shoulder, his smile fade when he look at your face.

-Hey, are you ok? What happened?

-I… are you cheating on me?- your question took him by surprise.

-What?

-Come on Taron, I’m not naive, I see how women stare at you, I’ve seen your costars and all of them are beautiful, with the perfect body, the skinny legs, with great boobs and then is me, I’m totally different, I’m not like them the only thing I can do is sing and if you don’t want to be with me is ok but…

-Hey hey hey slowed down- he said when he notices the tears coming from your eyes -where is this coming from? You were fine when I left you- you bite your lip.

-One of the crew members said that you were in love with Anne- you said -for the way you look at her and it was impossible that I was your girlfriend and… he’s right…

-Not his not, he’s an ass and he should be talking about us- he said a little angry before he kneel in front of you -I love you since that first day of Mr. Robbins’s class, I love all of you, your body, for me is perfect, perfect face, perfect ass, perfect legs and perfect boobs, which I’m conveniently in the perfect sight- you rolled your eyes as you giggles -for me you’re everything, Yn.

-but…

-but you want to know what am I thinking to see Anne like that?- he asked you.

-What?- you asked a little afraid of the answer.

-You, on that firs date, with that amazing dress you wore even with that stain of wine- you laughed -It’s real when I say that I love you Yn, and I love you with all my heart, I can sing you I will always love right now so you can believe me- you laughed before you kiss him.

-And I- you start to sing softly -will always love you.

-fuck I love you sing.

-I love you Egerton- you said.

-I love you too YLN- he said -Fore ever and ever.

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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: WATER GUN FIGHT🐟✨

✨🐟Find the rest of the Tuna-Tober prompts here, and remember to follow to see what other prompt fics these writers might drop this October!🐟 ✨

Day 5 - Water Gun Fight

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader Word Count: 646 Content: : Fluff, no use of y/n, Reader is the second year teacher at Jujutsu High, I kept using the word splash so many times so I apologize in advance, this takes place about a week after the Exchange event so sometime in September 2018 Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: And here's day 5's entry. . . 30 minutes before the day ends haha. Enjoy!!

“KUGISAKI DON’T-!”

“WE HAVE THE HIGH GROUND ITA-ITIOT!”

“no, don’t, stop, come back-”

“You’re not helping Fushiguro!”

Watching Nobara sprinting out from their hiding spot, followed closely by Yuji and Megumi, you smile to yourself, “Glad to see they’re having fun.” 

“I know; I have the best ideas, don’t I?” Gojo grins, spinning a water gun around his finger. Your smile quickly vanishes and you give him a look. “What?!” He responds.

“Uh-huh. . .” Your attention goes to the three second years, who are perfectly setting a trap to get the first years.

Gojo somehow convinced Yaga to allow them to do a water gun fight before the weather got too cold. He claimed it would help with their teamwork skills but you knew how Gojo felt about teamwork and jujutsu; it was pointless bullshit. Regardless, the kids needed a break, and what’s more fun than a water gun fight.

It was decided that this fight would be treated like a paintball fight. The first years have water that’s colored red while the second years’ water is colored blue. You set a charm on their water guns that would keep them refilled so they won’t worry about running out of water during their battle. It also saved Ichiji from having to recolor a new batch of water every time. 

You notice Toge moving his uniform away from his face, “Don’t move!” There he goes.

“SHIT!”

“Fushiguro?!”

“I got him!” Panda yells, pointing his water gun towards Fushiguro who’s stood frozen in place.

His face is contorted in anger, his movements are short and stiff. The more he tries to move the faster he’ll be able to have a full range of motion again. . . Right?

But doing that risks Yuji and Norbara getting hit too-

SPLASH!

“Panda you’re out!” Gojo calls out.

Panda groans, “It’s gonna take forever for this dye to get out of my fur!!” 

Yuji stands proudly, grinning at Megumi, “I’ve got your back Fushiguro!”

SPLUSH! SPLASH!

“Yuji! Megumi! You’re out.” You yell, leaning up against a tree. 

“Why is it sticky?” Megumi asks.

“I mixed in something a little special~” Maki teases.

“Salmon roe!” Toge adds, and Megumi makes a face.

“What is it?” Yuji asks and Megumi shakes his head, “You don’t want to know.” He mutters.

“Now where’s Kugisaki-?” Maki starts but then- SPLASH!

“Toge you’re out-“

“AH- HA!” SPLASH!!

“HA?!” Maki exclaims. You and Gojo look between each other, unable to tell who hit who first. Both are covered in purple dye and they both look like they’re gonna kill each other.

You try your best not to laugh at the two of them but a snicker does escape from your lips. Gojo is too busy laughing his ass off to give them a clear winner, which only makes them more pissed off.

“If there’s no clear winner then. . .” Megumi starts, “then you guys have to fight for us!” Yuji finishes.

“Huh?”

“I’m not doing that-“

“It would be too easy of a fight-“

“WHAT?! Maki hand me your water gun!”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you hon~” 

The blue water just floats around him as he just smiles at you. Stupid infinity.

“Water is harmless!”

“Why would I want to get wet? So you know how expensive my clothing is? Are you gonna buy me new-?”

He stills as you appear suddenly in front of him, you lightly touch his arm; he always puts his infinity down around you. . . You’re not sure why he does, but it helps you out now though.

SPLASH!

“DAMN IT!!” You cry out, drenched in red liquid.

“You didn’t think I wouldn’t take Nobara’s water gun? She threw it at me earlier when she was mad. Maaaaaan, you really don’t pay close enough attention sweetheart-“

You punch him with a black flash, throwing him halfway across the school’s campus. Damn him.

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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: "Why? Why do you love me?"🐟✨

✨🐟Find the rest of the Tuna-Tober prompts here, and remember to follow to see what other prompt fics these writers might drop this October!🐟 ✨

Tell Me

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.3k [Tuna-Tober Masterlist]

Tuna-Tober Prompt: “Why? Why do you love me?”

Warnings/tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, almost breakup

Summary: Matt has been acting cold for the past couple of weeks–ever since you told him you loved him.

a/n: Of course Matt was the first one who came to my mind for this prompt. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

“We’re done,” Matt stated. “That’s it. I can’t do this any longer.”

A thick and palpable tension hung in the air at Matt’s words, a heaviness so pervasive that you didn't need his heightened senses to feel it filling the apartment. Standing beside the leather couch, your arms tightly wrapped around yourself as if they alone were the only thing holding you together. Heart pounding rapidly inside of your chest, it felt close to bursting straight out if you dared to move your arms even an inch. 

Across the room, Matt stood in front of the large living room windows with his back turned to you. The light from the billboard across the street washed the front of him in a dark crimson, casting looming shadows along his tense and rigid form. His hands were situated on his hips, fingers digging so sharply into his dress pants that they were pulling the fabric even more taut around his waist. Everything about his posture–from his clenched jaw to his squared shoulders–felt as if he was intentionally shutting you out as well as keeping a physical distance between the pair of you.

This is it, you thought. This is where he finally tries to push me away.

You’d known Matt for a while now. Long enough to know how he operated when things became just a bit too much for him or if someone grew a bit too close. Over time you’d slowly learned the signs of when he’d start to close himself off, beginning to read him sometimes better than he thought he could even read you. 

It had been ten months since you’d met Matt while working on an article for The Bulletin. You’d interviewed him about a case that his firm had won and the pair of you had steadily and easily grown closer together after that initial encounter. Neither of you had been able to stay away from the other. You’d long since been past the point of just dating and occasionally sleeping together–you’d been an official couple for months now. You had clothing hanging in his closet and you knew exactly where he stored the red Daredevil suit that he donned most evenings. You knew about his past from the many late nights he'd opened up to you either after a rough patrol as the Devil or a case he was particularly fired up over.

But lately Matt had started to become prickly around you. Constantly on edge. Canceling dates and intentionally trying to avoid you. He was often gone in the mornings the few times you’d stayed over at his apartment, not even giving you his usual goodbye kiss before he left. He hadn’t invited you over as frequently either because most nights now he told you that he planned to stay late at the office before running out to deal with one thing or another as Daredevil. 

This had all started just over two weeks ago. Right around the time you’d first told him you loved him. He’d seemed off that night, too. You remembered how he’d suddenly grown quiet in bed, his expression shifting to something impossible to read as he almost immediately shut you out. You’d assured him that you hadn’t expected him to say it back in the moment–and you’d meant that. You knew he’d heard the truth in the firm beat of your heart. Because you loved Matt. You knew him opening his heart up to let someone in was not something he did easily, and you were prepared to continue proving to him that you weren’t about to disappear from his life like he seemed to secretly fear.

You’d long since wondered if his sudden coldness was some sort of a test, one he himself wasn’t even aware he was putting you through. As if he expected you to leave at the first sign of difficulty in the relationship which had otherwise been fairly smooth. You’d always encouraged open communication between you both–something else you were aware he struggled with–but you’d always been patient and understanding with him, which was what you’d tried to be over these past couple of weeks.

Until this very moment. Because right now you did not fully understand why Matt had just told you that he couldn’t continue the relationship anymore. You could feel the tears building in your eyes as you stared at the back of his navy blue dress shirt, your eyes fixed on the wrinkles that formed throughout his work day. In your chest, you could feel your heart teetering on the verge of shattering, ready to break into pieces with only a few more words from his mouth. You found yourself wondering if Matt would be able to hear your heart break.

But you didn't want to let him go without a fight. You didn’t want to lose him. You loved him far too much to let him self-sabotage the relationship you'd both created and poured yourselves into over the past few months without even trying to get through to him first.

“There’s no way you mean any of that, Matt,” you told him, shaking your head and ignoring the sting of tears in your eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

His head snapped to the side when you'd finally spoken, the sharp angle of his profile swathed in red just over the top of his broad shoulder. His jaw was set firm, but even in the light from the billboard you could see the muscle jumping in his cheek.

“And what makes you think that?” he asked, a rough edge to his words.

“Because,” you answered, taking a small, hesitant step towards him and noticing the way he flinched. “I know you. I think you’re just trying to hurt me to avoid the perceived hurt you think is bound to happen if you continue getting close to me. Growing comfortable in our relationship. Because you think I’m going to leave you. You think it's inevitable.”

The muscle jumped in Matt's cheek again, the only movement you caught on his otherwise immobile body. Pressing your lips together, you tried to fight the way they'd begun to quiver. In this moment, it felt more like you were approaching a feral cat than a grown man–a feeling you'd experienced a few times with Matt in the past. And you knew right now that if you showed him any sign of weakness he'd pounce on it.

“You're scared,” you continued slowly, taking another cautious step towards him. “I think you're terrified of how great things have been between us. I think you feel as if you don't deserve the happiness I've seen written on your face when we're together.”

Something like an agitated growl rumbled in his chest at your words. Not exactly a noise of disagreement, but also not exactly the sound of a warning. It sounded more alarmed than anything, which had you feeling more confident that you'd just struck the exact problem he'd created in his mind.

“But you're wrong,” you assured him firmly. “You deserve love and happiness, Matthew. And I intend to be here with you. I will happily spend every day right by your side helping you until you see it for yourself.”

You took another cautious and careful step towards him, but you stopped moving the second you saw his lip curl back into something like a snarl. You could see his eyes narrow at you even behind the lenses of his red glasses just before he spoke.

“Why?” he growled. “Tell me why.”

Swallowing hard, your hands nervously curled up inside the sleeves of your sweatshirt. “Why what?” you whispered.

“Why do you love me?” he demanded. “Why? How could you possibly love me?”

Freezing on the spot as your breath hitched, confusion briefly washed over you. Despite having now learned his strange behavior had indeed been brought about by you saying that you loved him for the first time weeks ago, it had taken you entirely off guard that he'd wanted an actual explanation as to why you did. But then again, that really shouldn't have surprised you quite so much considering you knew just how unlovable he thought he was. And you weren’t going to let an opportunity to tell him how you really felt slip between your fingers. 

“Because you have the biggest heart I've ever seen, Matthew,” you began softly, emotion thick in your voice. “You keep it buried deep in your chest, hiding it from everyone, but I see it. Every time you come home with another banana bread or casserole dish and an excited story about how you helped someone in this city who'd otherwise have been looked over because they couldn’t afford good legal representation. I see it when you come home late at night bruised, exhausted, and bleeding but grinning in triumph as you tell me who you saved. I see it whenever you just simply look at me.”

The snarl that had initially curled his lips back gradually slipped off of his face while you'd been speaking, the hard lines of his body slowly beginning to soften. He didn't speak, but his shift in body language had given you some hope back. Hope that you could get through to him.

“And I'm not bothered by how much of yourself you give to this city,” you continued, once more carefully closing the space between you both as you slowly lowered your arms to your sides. “I admire you for it, Matthew. Ever since you told me the truth. I've never disliked that part of you. I’ve never taken issue with it. I’ve never been afraid of you. That part of you has only made me admire you more. Love you more.”

You were standing a few feet away from him now, able to see the faint tremble of his lips with how close you were. Everything you were saying was having an effect on him so you continued, hoping your words would start to sink in. Even just a little.

“And it's not just that I admire that big, beautiful heart in your chest,” you told him, “but I admire that big, beautiful brain in that handsome head of yours.” You paused, smiling a little back at him. “I think you're incredibly smart and brilliant, Matt. In and out of the courtroom. You're fiercely passionate about justice no matter the cost to yourself–whether it's sleepless nights out on the rooftops or hours pouring over files here at your apartment. And you're funny when you let yourself stop being so broody most days,” you said, your small smile growing a bit more on your lips as a tear slipped down your cheek. “You brighten my days more than you know, Matty. Always helping me to find the light in the darkness when I think there isn't any. Seeing the good in everyone…except for yourself.”

Reaching up, you wiped away another stray tear that had raced down your cheek with the back of your hand. Matt sniffled quietly, his shoulders sagging as he finally and hesitantly turned towards you. His hands had fallen from his hips, hanging at his sides as his fingers twitched.

“Do you really want me to go?” you whispered, more tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. “Because I–I can take my things and leave if that's what you really want, Matt. I can walk out that door and leave you alone.”

Matt shook his head firmly, his mouth visibly trembling at your words. Tears had managed to slide their way beneath his glasses, trailing their way down his cheeks. The sight had your own tears falling faster as he timidly approached you, closing the small bit of distance that remained. 

“No,” he breathed out. “No, I don't really want that.”

Feeling a flood of relief, you reached out and wrapped your arms around his waist. Drawing himself the rest of the way into the front of you, Matt immediately buried his face directly against your neck. You could feel a dampness forming on your skin from his tears, the feeling only causing you to hold him tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed into your skin. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I don’t want you to go. I didn’t mean it. I’m just–just–”

Turning your head, you buried your face into his hair as your hands began rubbing light and soothing patterns over his back while he struggled to find the words he wanted. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you breathed in that warm, rich scent that was always uniquely Matt. With his warm body wrapped around you, your once rapidly beating heart began slowing back to a normal rhythm.

“I know,” you murmured back, lips brushing his hair as you spoke. “I know you didn’t mean it, Matty. Relationships are scary,” you told him. “Giving someone so much of yourself is terrifying, I get it. But I love you and I don’t want to leave you. I’m not going to leave you.”

With his face still buried against your throat, you felt his features screw up against your skin before another rush of Matt’s warm, wet tears began to slide down your neck. Your hands fisted his dress shirt, holding him even tighter to the front of yourself as he cried. You didn’t need him to explain why he’d suddenly begun to weep because you’d already known the answer. He’d heard the truth in your explanation for why you loved him as you’d spoken them aloud. The same unwavering truth that was always present in your words. 

“I love you,” he whispered into your skin. “And I don’t think I could ever stop.”

A smile pulled your lips upwards, tears burning at your eyes for an entirely different reason now. You pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to the top of his head as a warm rush of emotion filled you at hearing him finally say those three little words back to you.

“I love you, too, Matty,” you whispered. “And I don’t ever want to stop.”

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @millennial-birkin @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1 @scriptedmoon @lucienofthelakes @sarahskywalker-amidala @flowher @loves0phelia @a-half-empty-g1rl @zomtart @justvalkyrie @steve-chandler

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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Overstimulation🐟✨

✨🐟Find the rest of the Tuna-Tober prompts here, and remember to follow to see what other prompt fics these writers might drop this October!🐟 ✨

Tuna-Tober Day 8 - Matt Murdock

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

prompt: Overstimulation

word count: 2,600

content: established relationship, light drinking, public sex toy use, public orgasms, language, overstimulation, unprotected piv sex (at home), aftercare. 18+ MINORS DNI!

tuna-tober masterlist / main masterlist

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Matt asked, flipping the slender remote in his hand as you pulled on the underwear that would be controlled by the device. He had gotten you the garment for your anniversary a few days prior, and you weren’t sure of the setting he wanted to use them in. Until tonight.

“It’ll be fun,” you told him, a nervous smile on your lips that he could tell wasn’t completely genuine.

“But are you okay with it?” Matt rephrased his question, wanting a straight answer before you both exited the apartment. “It was my idea, so I need to know if you’re on board. I don’t want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable.”

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to blow away your nerves as you nodded. “I’m okay with it.”

By the steady beat of your heart, Matt knew you were telling the truth. So he smiled and pocketed the remote, but not before giving you an experimental buzz with the toy. When you let out the quietest of moans that he knew only he could hear, a cocky smirk lined his lips as he left you to finish getting ready.

The conversation with Matt as the two of you were getting ready to go out to Josie's was fresh on your mind as you sat in the booth in tense anticipation for what was to come. You were in the corner of the booth, Matt sitting with his thigh pressed against yours, and Karen right across from you. Foggy had just shown up with Marci on his arm and the four of them were engaged in their typical work conversations for the first little bit of the gathering while you were stuck in your head picturing what Matt would be doing to you…who knew when?

As the three others became engrossed in their own conversation, Matt leaned over and mumbled into your ear, “You’re getting yourself worked up and I haven’t even turned them on, Angel.” Angel. Matt only called you that when he got rough in the bedroom. Just hearing him say that caused a shiver to run down your spine and you felt more heat pooling between your thighs. You started to cross your legs to relieve some of the tension, but let out a quiet gasp when you suddenly felt a soft vibration fluttering against your clit. The hand not controlling the little remote landed on your thigh and massaged it gently as Matt whispered in a husky tone, “Just relax. I’ve got you.”

When he said that, the vibrations got a little stronger, and you felt your heart rate increase in response. The grip you had on your drink glass tightened as your hands began to shake as a sudden feeling of anxiety flooded the forefront of your mind. And just like that the vibrations stopped. “Matt, what-?” you started quietly.

“Your cortisol levels just shot through the roof. Something’s wrong. I’m not continuing if you aren’t comfortable with this, I told you that,” he replied, a more gentle tone taking over for the moment.

Throwing a look over to Karen, Foggy, and Marci, you whispered, “I’m just afraid of them catching us, is all… What if they hear it? What if they hear me?”

“None of them reacted when I turned it on,” Matt assured you. That goddamn smirk made its way back onto his lips as he added, “I can turn it on the highest setting and we can see if they notice. Would that make you feel better?”

Your breath hitched in your throat for a second in response to the proposition. You were at an impasse. While turning it to the highest setting would prove whether or not the others could hear the vibrations, you ran the risk of them hearing it and asking questions. It felt like something you would never be able to live down. It felt like something illegal. Public indecency at the least. But Matt wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t sure it was okay…

With that last thought in mind, you nodded. And nothing could have prepared you for the feeling that took over your body in the seconds that followed. As you nearly doubled over when the intense vibrations assaulted your clit, you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from moaning. Loudly. You had used toys before, sure, but it had been a while because Matt always took care of you without them. You had long since forgotten how easily vibrators worked you up and how they could make that coil tighten in your abdomen nearly as fast as Matt could.

When he heard how your body reacted to the vibrator, Matt nearly forgot that he was supposed to be gauging if the others could hear it over the music and conversation that made up the atmosphere of Josie’s. Tearing his attention away from your body, Matt tuned into his friends and the air around them to see if there was even a nearly imperceptible movement of their heads that would indicate that they heard what was happening on the other side of the table. He waited a few seconds before he was satisfied that the three of them were still completely oblivious.

Raising his beer bottle in response to something they just said, Matt kept up the charade that he wasn’t becoming more turned on by the second as he listened to you. The sound of your growing arousal was loud in his ears, and every little shift of your hips only had his jeans tightening more. He could practically feel the restraint you were holding yourself with as you attempted to keep your breathing even, but the little sighs of pleasure escaping your lips were becoming more frequent as time wore on, and it was getting difficult to hold himself back from you.

Matt nearly moaned when he merely placed his hand on your thigh and you suddenly tensed up, grasping the edge of the booth as your breath caught in your throat. Before the moan climbing up your throat could escape and end this whole thing, Matt leaned into you and closed his mouth over yours in a passionate kiss as waves upon waves of pleasure crashed over you as you came. One hand snaked around to the back of his neck and held him close as he kissed you, not only so he could continue his ministrations, but so you could whimper his name like a prayer onto his lips where the others couldn’t see.

“Woah you two, save that for the bedroom!” Foggy said with a chuckle when Matt finally pulled away as you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Matt cleared his throat before asking, “Can a man not kiss his girlfriend anymore?”

“You weren’t kissing her, you were eating her face,” Foggy pointed out before walking back to the bar for another round of drinks.

“Have you two done anything for your anniversary yet?” Karen asked with a sparkle in her eye. “Five years, that’s a big deal!”

When Matt didn’t answer immediately nor turn down the setting on the vibrator, you swallowed hard before telling her, “N-not yet. Not exactly. Waiting for the weekend.”

“Ooh, reservations for somewhere, I hope, Matt?” Marci asked, a well-kept eyebrow raising up into her forehead.

“Yes, actually. Although I can’t remember the name of the restaurant right now,” Matt fibbed, his tone of voice almost teasing as he asked if you remembered the name of the place.

“B-babbo Ris-torante. In Gr-eenwich,” you supplied, reaching for Matt’s thigh as you tried to ground yourself and keep your voice steady as your core continued to throb under the ministrations of the toy.

“Are you okay?” Karen asked, her head tilting slightly as she studied your flushed face.

“Y-yeah, just something caught in my throat,” you lied, selling it further by taking a long drag of the beer pushed your way as Foggy returned with the drinks.

Luckily the conversation moved on quickly to talk of…something. You couldn’t pay attention to anything except the pleasure beginning to mount in your core again. “Stop that,” came Matt’s husky voice as he leaned over to pretend to whisper sweet nothings in your ear. It was only then that you realized that you had started to grind your hips into the booth so you could chase the high that was threatening to wash over you again any second.

Snapping your eyes out of their trance, you looked over to Matt and realized that he was shifting uncomfortably in the booth, his legs spread wider than he normally would before stilling into a stiff posture. Glancing down, you saw just how aroused he was, the outline of his hard cock in his jeans making you picture what you were in for once you got back home. “Ma-att,” you whispered as you ground your hips into the booth once more before the coil in your abdomen abruptly snapped. One hand found the edge of the booth once more as the other wrapped around Matt’s back as your second orgasm of the night ripped through you, somehow more intense than the first one. Burying your face into Matt’s shoulder, you tried to keep your moans quiet as your body continued grinding into the seat to drag out the feeling for as long as possible.

“Fuck it, we’re leaving,” Matt practically growled as he tasted the fresh round of your arousal in the air. It was almost enough to make him come undone then and there. He made up some excuse about having a headache before pulling you out of the booth and close to his front so he could at least try to hide his painfully hard erection from his friends. “Need to get you home. Need you,” he said as you feigned guiding him out of the bar without his cane unfolded.

Truth be told, you were barely able to walk after two mind shattering orgasms and the continuing vibrations against your clit. Matt called a quick goodbye to Josie before the two of you were out in the less stale air of New York City. You barely made it ten feet before Matt was pulling you into an alleyway and kissing you like his life depended on it. With a slight smirk on your lips, you hooked one leg around the back of his knee and pulled Matt’s hips into yours, grinding into him for a brief second. That second was all it took for him to come undone, letting out an unexpected moan as he rutted his hips into yours as he came. Pleasure sparked through his whole body as he buried his face into your neck and left open mouthed kisses there as he worked through the aftershocks of his own orgasm. “Fuck…” he whispered as his movements stilled a few seconds later. “Need to get you home, Angel. Now.”

“Wha-” you tried, thinking that what had just happened was the end of the sexcapades for the night. That he had gotten his fill after giving you two and having one himself before you even really touched him.

“We’re not done until I say we’re done. I need to taste you. I need to feel you. I need to fuck you,” he said, heated kisses punctuating every sentence.

“Lead the way then,” you told him, a giggle leaving your mouth that was replaced by a quiet moan as the settings on the underwear changed to where it would start off at a low rumble before building up into a delicious vibration. When it hit its peak as you rounded the corner, your knees almost gave out, and you grabbed at the front belt loop of your jeans - whether you meant for it to be as a lifeline or as a means of bringing the toy closer, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that you could barely walk and your third orgasm was already building.

Matt made quick work of getting you home, pulling you into the entry hall and slamming his lips into yours as soon as he shut the door. Your jeans were off within seconds and the panties were ripped away and replaced by Matt’s skilled fingers. As he pumped them quickly into you, finding that special spot within your walls, you moaned loudly, the sound shortly followed by a grunt of your name as Matt rutted his hips into your thigh.

Only once you had your third orgasm not even a minute later did Matt move the two of you toward the bedroom. When he had you out of your clothes and laid out on the silk sheets, Matt’s mouth was on your heat, lapping and sucking like a man starved. The vibration of his grunts and groans had you writhing which prompted Matt to hold your hips down as he pulled yet another orgasm out of you.

The transition between Matt eating you out and him fucking you fast and hard was quick to your muddied brain, and it was all you could do to just hold on to his broad shoulders as he thrusted into you.

The pleasure was insurmountable and all encompassing. There was a slightly painful edge to the feeling, and a little voice inside your head was whispering too much. You couldn’t get your brain to form coherent words though, only able to let out a wanton moan into the quiet of the apartment. You weren’t even sure what happened next as your entire body suddenly flooded with a warm flush and your vision went white. Your hearing turned into a sharp ringing sound that was so loud that you barely registered Matt’s call of your name as he came inside of you.

Matt knew there was something wrong the second your arms sagged off of his shoulders and your head lulled back into the pillow without your usual final kiss before he pulled out of you. With his chest heaving still, Matt fell onto his back and pulled you close, running his hand up and down your bare back as he whispered into your hair, “Come on, sweet girl. Come back to me.”

It took a few minutes, but you finally started to come back around, your eyes fluttering back open as you pulled in a deep breath to center yourself again. “There you are,” Matt mumbled, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead as he held you close. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t apologize. Those were the most intense orgasms I’ve ever had,” you interrupted him, a quiet giggle escaping your lips as you snuggled into his chest.

“Same here,” Matt replied, the quiet chuckle rumbling out of his chest soothing under your ear as you continued to gather yourself in his embrace.

“Let's go get you cleaned up,” Matt said after a few peaceful moments of silence.

“Help me up?” you mumbled, your eyes heavy as you curled further into his embrace.

“You got it,” he replied before untangling himself from your limbs and making his way into the bathroom to start up the shower.

“I love you Matthew Murdock, and happy anniversary,” you whispered as he pulled you up and into his arms to help you walk into the bathroom on unsteady legs.

He got you set up in the shower and began massaging soap onto your skin as he told you, “I love you too,” the smile evident in his voice. He would have to find another occasion to bring out those panties again…

this is highly unformatted and barely edited ngl i’m just tryna get this thrown up as a little birthday treat from me to y’all!

likes and comments are always appreciated! xo, brooke <3