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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: NOTHING UNDERNEATH🐟✨

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Day 7 - Nothing Underneath (18+)

Paring: Matt Murdock x Reader Word Count: 947 Content: SMUT!! So this fic is 18+ MDNI (I mean it kids, go read some fluff or angst! This ain't for you!) Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: So this is my first time writing smut so I’m sorry if it’s awkward ; I’m trying to push myself writing wise with this writing challenge. Also I’m so so so sorry in advance for the abrupt ending, I wanted to make sure I got this fic out tonight. Ya girl is tired and has a morning shift to wake up for please forgive me (╥﹏╥)

Matt always feels a twinge of guilt every time he has to leave you alone in the apartment when he does his patrols. 

Especially on a night like tonight.

I mean it was just your typical day. . . excluding the fact that you both are just very horny for each other. 

And it wasn’t like you aren’t usually! It was just neither of you had the chance to fuck each other in a couple days and the tension was starting to get to Matt.

“Red?”

Every small touch you did, every time you kissed him goodbye before his patrol, even the one call you did earlier in the week had him getting hard.

All he wanted to do was stay between your thighs and love on you, was that too much to ask?

“Red!” 

Apparently it was. Matt looks over at Frank who was smirking.

“Go home man, you clearly need to work through some things.”

“What are you talking about? I’m fine.” The white knuckled grip on his billy clubs says otherwise, so Frank just rolls his eyes.

“Uh-huh,” He looks back at the empty lot that they’ve been watching over for the past two hours. They got tipped off that a drug deal was sighted around this block, so they’ve been keeping watch to see where it could potentially lead to.

“Y’know. . .” Frank starts, “I’ve been doing just fine without your special senses for years now,” Matt tilts his head in the direction of a building that was seemingly empty, his lips forming a thin line. 

Frank stills and waits. . . nothing.

“Just go home Red.”

. . . “Fine.”

Frank’s eyebrows shoot up, but his expression remains the same.

“There’s not a lot of activity happening inside the building anyways, call me if that changes.”

“You got it Red.” Frank wouldn’t call tonight, Matt figured as much, but it was still worth it to remind him.

Matt starts heading back to his apartment, leaping and bounding across the different rooftops, trying to make it back home before you head to bed.

You figured the Devil would be out late again tonight, just as he had like the past few days. You couldn’t be upset at Matt, but that doesn’t mean you can’t feel frustrated about the circumstances. Almost every time you tried to make a move on Matt he would have to go to work, go patrolling and when he got home you were asleep.

This night was going to be different, you thought. You were determined to fuck him tonight, you just needed to stay awake along enough to do so.

At first you figured it would be good to wear some lingerie to get you in the mood, but after about an hour of just lounging around waiting for Matt to come through the window you could feel your eyes wanting to droop.

You shake your head and decide to just fuck it and not wear any clothes, yeah that’ll do it! You weren’t even sure if he would be able to tell unless he was close enough to you. Smiling, you remove the lingerie you put on and walk back into your shared bedroom. You slip under the covers, completely naked, just scrolling on your phone waiting patiently for your devil to return home. Still a bit bored, but horny, you slowly reach down and start slowly toying with your clit, thinking how Matt would be so much better.

All you wanted was just his mouth to devour you, no maybe have him fuck you til you couldn’t cum anymore. A small moan escapes your lips as you keep playing with your clit, moving your fingers in a circular motion but barely putting any pressure.

Your breathing shallows as you start moving your hand faster and faster, but it just doesn’t satisfy you. Feeling frustrated you remove your hand and roll to your side putting your phone down. Maybe you should just go to sleep, you guys can fuck in the-

“Sweetheart?”

“Matt?” You turn around and see Matt, breathing heavily but with each breath you see him get more and more tense.

“Fuck, are you naked?” His voice lower than before.

“Yes, I just-” He walks over to you and you look away from him, “I dunno-” He shifts you to face him his body right in between your legs, “I thought-”

He kisses you with a searing passion cutting you off. You moan into the kiss grabbing onto his face pulling him closer towards you. You can feel him smile as you reach the base of his neck, gently tugging some of his hair. 

He starts moving down your neck, kissing every exposed part of you “I want you like this every time I come home.” He tells you in between kisses. You breathe out a laugh, seeing that he’s still mostly dressed in his nightly outfit.

“Matty your suit-”

“I don’t care.” He kneels down to go further down your body until his face is at your cunt. He sighs happily as he moves his hand up your body, gently grabbing onto one of your boobs. With his other hand, he inserts two fingers into your dripping cunt, slowly working them in and out.

You moan his name as he continues to work his hands on your body, waves of pleasure making your eyes go hazy. 

He removes his hand from your cunt and takes a taste from his fingers, moaning. You look over at him and notice that he’s managed to remove his pants just enough to start palming his cock with the hand that was just inside you. 

This was going to be a long night, but you both needed it.

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✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: FLOWER CROWNS🐟✨

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Tuna-tober Day 2

Here's day 2 of Tuna-tober.

Prompt: Flower Crowns

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Word Count: ~1k

You and Logan were complete opposites. He was dark and gloomy, grumpy most of the time. While you were sunshine and rainbows, happy as can be. 

Your powers dealt with nature. You could grow flowers from nothing, cause minor earthquakes, and create remedies from herbs. It was helpful sometimes and useless others. But you got by. Teaching at Professor Xavier's school helped. Being around Logan, despite his grumpy nature, helped. And boy, did you enjoy being around him.

Alright, so you had a crush on the man. It was hard not to. Beneath his gruff exterior laid a heart of gold. Plus, Logan was different around you. He was more playful, more kind. He picked on you but not maliciously. And you did the same. The two of you had a back and forth banter that just worked.

What you loved most, however, was when the students got involved. They loved to see just how far Logan would go for you. Which is how you found yourself in your current situation.

You stood outside Logan's classroom door and carefully played with the item in your hands. You were patiently waiting for him to finish talking to his students so that you could pull him aside. As he wrapped up, you hid your hands behind your back and smiled at the students as they left, greeting the ones who spoke to you. Once everyone had left, you turned to face Logan and grinned. His eyebrow immediately rose and he crossed his arms across his broad chest.

“What are you up to?” He asked, voice deep and warm.

“Me? I'm not up to anything. I just wanted to see you!”

“Well, you've seen me. Now what?” You walked into the room, keeping your hands behind your back. Logan grew wary as you approached and you giggled. You stopped a couple feet in front of him and smiled. 

“I made you something, Logan.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I worked on it for a long time too. So you better like it.” The corner of his lips twitched in amusement but otherwise, he kept a straight face. 

“Is that so?”

“Yep!”

“Well, what is it?” He asked. You brought your hands out in front of you with a flourish and watched as Logan tried not to laugh. In your hands was a beautiful flower crown. It was full of reds, yellows, and oranges interwoven with the greens and browns of the leaves and stems.

“You've got to be joking.” He said, fighting a smile.

“Nope! I made it just for you. It reminds me of a sunset. I tried not to make it too girly. But flower crowns are inherently girly. Do you like it?” You sounded and looked so hopeful that Logan found he couldn't possibly crush your dreams. He sighed and tilted his head.

“Yeah, darling. I like it.” You squealed in happiness. 

“Does that mean you'll wear it?”

“...what?”

“The flower crown, silly! Will you wear it? Pleaseeee?” You put your hands together and looked up at him innocently. If you didn't know better, you'd say Logan was blushing. He seemed to have an internal battle before he eventually let out a long suffering sigh. He tilted his head down in your direction.

“Go ahead, darling. But only for a minute.” He said gruffly. You very gently placed the crown upon his head, making sure it was straight, before you pulled your hands back and clapped. 

“Perfect! It looks good on you, Logan.” You grinned, giggling between words.

“Alright. Come on now. Take it off.” He rumbled. You pouted then, putting the next part of your plan into action.

“Aw, come on, Logan. Don't you want to wear it for a little while. I did work pretty hard on it.” You told him, batting your eyelashes. Logan playfully rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“I know you did. Don't you want to keep it safe? If I'm wearing it, I'm liable to mess it up.”

“It is safe. I sprayed it with something that will keep it together. You'd have to get hit pretty hard to mess it up. It's a gift, Logan, accept it.” 

“So that's what I'm smelling.” At that, you raised a brow. But then it hit you. With Logan's heightened sense of smell, he could likely still smell the glue that was holding everything together. You smacked your forehead then held your hand out, your shoulders drooping. 

“I'm so sorry, I didn't even think about that. I'll take it back so it doesn't bother you anymore.” You told him. Logan regarded you for a long second before he suddenly shook his head and stepped back out of your reach.

“No.”

“What?”

“No, you can't have it back. You said it was a gift right? Well then it'd be pretty rude to take it back.” He told you smugly. You gawked at him for a minute then smiled.

“Well, if you're certain…”

“I am.” 

“Okay, then. I'm glad you like it.” You tell him. He nods but before he can say anything, the kids start entering the room. His next class is about to start and so you simply smile at him and turn to leave. You're almost out the door when you hear one of the kids gasp.

“I want a flower crown like that!” You stifle your giggles as the rest of the students catch on. You stop in the doorway and turn to see Logan looking at you with a look you can't quite distinguish. The students are all clamoring around him as they ooh and ahh over his flower crown. You can't resist adding fuel to the fire so you call out.

“I'll see you later, Logan.” Then you left the room, hearing his students start asking if the two of you are dating and if he likes his flower crown. You laugh the whole way back to your room. You know you're in for it when Logan gets done with class.

You wouldn't have it any other way. 

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "Why? Why do you love me?” 🐟✨

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LUCKY DAY

Hi everyone! I hope you having a good time in this spooky season, this is my second day with the tuna-tober prompts, like I said in one post I have a few ideas with this ones but still if any of you have an requests with this prompts you can send me an ask, I hope you have a great day/night, and I know is little but still I hope you like it, lots of love!

Prompt: why? Why do you love me?

——————————

When you first met Jimmy you were amaze about him, he had this attitude that make make you look at him, and that smile, that cocky smile that make you blush every time he smiled at you. You work on a little dinner when you met him, he was alone when he sat at one of your tables, you didn’t know why but you got nervous when he look at you.

-Hi, my name is Yn and I will your waitress today- you said.

-Well this must be my lucky day- he said,you smiled.

-Uh a cocky one…

-But an adorable one, don’t you think?- you blushed.

-Yes I’ll give you that- he smiled -so mysterious man, do yo know what you want?

-you- you smiled a little nervous.

-I’m sorry but I don’t do that until I have at least one date, but I can bring you some eggs and some pancakes- you said before you get back to the kitchen and try to relax, you didn’t know why but he make you nervous, you return a few minutes later with his food -here you have mysterious man…

-Jimmy my name is Jimmy Keene- he said with a smile.

-nice to meet you Jimmy- you said -by the if it is your lucky day and you win the lottery don’t forget to come by next time.

-I tell you what, why don’t I invite you on a date?- he asked you, you look at him for a little a second before you smile.

-I’m off at 8 o’clock, there’s this coffee shop we can go- Jimmy smiled.

-That’s a great plan.

You’re relationship with Jimmy was different, after a few months he told you his real work of line and you have to admitted that you were afraid, afraid of how it could affect you and you always afraid for his safety. The day after his arrest was hard, going to the audiences, the meeting with the layers, you tried to be close to his father every time you could, but you didn’t really know how but you start to get used to it. You were on your way to the visitors room, it wasn’t a lot of time before you saw Jimmy, he tried to give you a cocky smile but you could see the sadness in his eyes.

-Hey, babydoll- he said.

-hey, love- you took his hand -your dad send you love, he said he will come next week -he nod -hey, are you ok?

-I… don’t really know- he said -I had a lot time to think and I screw you up…

-What? No you…

-Look at you Yn, you shouldn’t be here, you should be out there having a better life than this.

-I do it because I love you…

-Why? why you keep loving me? I’ve done bad things, they right to have me here- you took his hand again.

-That’s why, even if you done some bad things, you regret it, and I also see the good things, you’re funny, and kind, and you also make me feel like I’m the only girl in the world, I love when you sings and how you care about your family and I know that you did all those stuffs to help your father, you have a good heart Jimmy and that’s why I love.

-shit I wanna kiss you so hurt right now- you smiled and look around but one guard was watching at the two of you.

-Back at you handsome.

-Maybe we should save it for the wedding.

-What wedding- you asked a little confuse.

-Would you marry me?- you didn’t responde right away -I mean I know this isn’t the best place to asked it and maybe you want to wait until I’m free…

-Yes- he stop talking.

-Really- you nodded.

-Yes, yes and a million time yes, Jimmy, of course I’ll marry you- you were about to kiss him but the guard stopped you, making the two giggle.

-Times up Keene- the guard say.

-I promise that kiss will be worth it- he said making you smile -bye, Mrs. Keene.

-I’ll see you next week, Mr. keen.

-This must be my lucky day- he winked at you.

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✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: MUTUAL MASTURBATION 🐟✨

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Chapter 2

Pairing: Elektra Natchios/Karen Page

Tuna-Tober Prompt: Mutual Masturbation

Summary: Matt’s tied up and Elektra and Karen have some fun.

Word Count: 3099

I had to edit/upload this on mobile so I’m crossing my fingers that this posts correctly.

Thank you so much for reading! Gentle reminder that reblogs are the best way to support writers on this platform. XOXO

“Yes, you can kiss me.” Karen responded with a soft smile as her cheeks flushed. The tense mixture of nerves and excitement was swirling around her body as Elektra slowly leaned in to kiss Karen, pausing when their lips were barely touching. Elektra held space, taking a few moments to breathe each other’s air, building a palpable tension. Karen could feel Elektra’s warmth radiating off her skin and on to Karen’s. The anticipation was making her palms sweat and her heart race. Elektra moved her hand to cup Karen’s cheek before closing the gap and delicately kissing Karen.  

Karen’s skin prickled at the sensation of Elektra’s soft lips on hers. Her usually busy mind blanked out as she gently kissed Elektra in return. She was a bit taken aback by the sensation. Karen had kissed her fair share of men but this kiss was so different. Elektra was taking her time, enjoying the experience and sensation with Karen. Elektra was letting Karen take pleasure with her exploration, whereas many of the men she had dated in the past were more firm and quick to advance exploration with her. 

Elektra slowly leaned back, breaking the kiss but smiling as she did so. “Can I keep kissing you?” She asked as she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind Karen’s ear. 

“Yes.” Karen breathed out before hungrily closing the gap between them once again. Only this time, Karen wasn’t so timid as she open mouth kissed Elektra, slipping her tongue into Elektra’s mouth. She lightly moaned before massaging her tongue against Karen’s.The girls sat on the couch, taking their time making out and playing with each other’s hair. An occasional giggle slipped from Karen in between kisses. 

Matt was in no hurry for this to end. He enjoyed being lost in their arousal.

Their bodies were calling to him. He could feel how hot their figures were pressed together. He could sense how every tender touch to the lips and each soft caress of their hands were working each other up. The scent of their arousal was already thick and beginning to linger in the room, despite being fully clothed. Karen was so easily worked up and he knew she would be a pleasure to ruin. In due time, that is. Until then he politely waits, letting the ladies have their fun. Temperance is a cardinal virtue after all. 

Elektra breaks away from the kiss once again. “Would you like to take this somewhere more private? We can stay out here if you like, or we can go back to our bedroom.” 

Karen pauses to think. The thought of doing this in front of Matt was really turning her on but the newness of it all had her feeling insecure. 

“Um, yes. I’d like to go to your bedroom. This time.” Karen quietly replied.

“Ok love, wait here for just a moment. I’m going to get something ready. Wait here, love.” Elektra brushed Karen’s cheek before sauntering off to the bedroom.

Karen exhaled sharply and moved to untuck her top from her skirt. She was already feeling flushed from the little bit of making out they just did. 

Karen and Matt sat hot and bothered in the living room. The air is already heavy with want. Tension between Matt and Karen was high as they waited for Elektra to return. Karen was trying to slow her breathing. Matt was feeling heady with desire but he noticed Karen swallowing hard and her changing heart beat, indicating that she was getting nervous once more. 

“Remember if you start to feel uncomfortable at any time, just tell us and we will stop everything.” Matt spoke softly as we sat back into his seat, wanting to soften his body language for Karen’s sake. 

“I know.” Karen smiled, breaking some of the tension. “I just started to get nervous again but I know everything will be ok.” She said, before turning her head to face the loud bang that just came from the bedroom. “I just need to get out of my head.”

”Alright everyone, thanks for your patience.” Elektra announced on her way back into the room. 

“I couldn’t find our spare pair of handcuffs Matty, so I had to pull ours off the bed. Although I don’t think you’ll mind.” Elektra taunted as she proceeded to handcuff Matt to the chair. 

Karen’s mouth drops in shock but Matt could smell the increase of her arousal. 

“Are you ok with this Matt?” Karen asks. 

“Oh, I’m more than ok. Are you comfortable with me out here listening?” 

Karen nodded yes before Elektra asked, “Karen, sweetie, may I have your panties please?” Extending her hand out toward Karen. 

Karen quickly glanced between Elektra and Matt. Matt sensed her staring at him and nodded in her direction. 

Smiling mischievously, whilst also thinking to herself: what the fuck am I doing? And Why do I like it so much?  Unfortunately: Is this too soon? Followed quickly behind. Stop denying yourself. Was the last bit of rumination on the topic. Before she can change her mind,Karen stands and pulls up her skirt just enough to shimmy her panties down her legs. Stepping out of them, she hands them to Elektra. 

“Thanks dear.” 

Elektra walked over to Matt and knelt down beside him.

“Karen and I are going to go play in our bedroom. All you need to do is sit here like a good boy and kindly wait until it’s your turn.” She places a kiss to the side of his cheek and she sets Karen’s panties on his shoulder, knowing that having her scent so close would drive him wild.  

“Yes, Mistress” Matt groaned in response, feeling the fabric of his pants tighten against his dick as his body responded to Elektra. 

Karen appreciated the view of Matt willingly handcuffed to his own chair. It was a pleasant juxtaposition to the dominant man she knows in the courtroom. She had always had a physical attraction to Matt but had never indulged in the urge to act on it. Karen didn’t want to ruin their professional relationship. But today, she allowed her eyes to wander to his pecks that were straining against his t-shirt. She admired the way his sweatpants clung to the muscles on his thighs. She took note of his knuckles turning white as he gripped onto the side of the chair. She knew that Matt was more than capable of breaking out of Elektra’s restraints but seeing this strong, capable man hold himself back made her feel supremely safe. 

“C’mon love. Let’s go and play.” Elektra took Karen’s hand and guided her into the bedroom.

________________

Karen and Elektra sat next to each other on the bed. Elektra moved to face Karen and said, “I only require Matthew to call me Mistress. You can refer to me as you wish. And later on if you feel comfortable we can include you in that dynamic.”

Karen pauses for a moment before replying. “I think I would like to call you Ellie, for now.” Her cheeks flushed red with her response. 

“Now, Ellie, I would very much like to kiss you some more.” Karen purred as she began to unbutton her top. Her boldness surprised even herself. 

“Ask and you shall receive.” Elektra husked before brushing her lips with Karen. Elektra traced the outline of Karen’s lips with the tip of her tongue. Karen raggedly exhaled. 

Their kisses quickly turned sloppy in the privacy of Elektra’s bedroom. Their teeth clicked together as Karen snaked her hands around Elektra’s shoulders. Elektra took her hands off Karen’s hip and worked to remove both her shirt and bra. 

Karen paused, her breath hitched as her eyes took in the goddess next to her. 

“You are so fucking beautiful. Can I touch you?” 

Elektra giggled and brought Karen's hands to her chest, before leaning in to kiss Karen. 

Karen shuddered and excitement coarsed through her body as she opened her mouth against Elektra’s once more. Tongues collided as Karen caressed Elektra’s neck. She gently cupped Elektra’s breasts as they continued making out. 

Elektra’s skin was so soft and her gentleness with Karen mixed with the excitement at the new experience had Karen’s breath picking up. She clenched her thighs together, attempting to quelch the desire building in her low belly but her missing panties made the dampness between her thighs even more apparent. All of this aided in Karen’s braveness to explore her new partner’s body. 

Karen pulled back, looking Elektra in the eyes. She was enjoying fondling Elektra. 

The weight of her breasts in Karen’s hands released any remaining nerves left in Karen’s body and she allowed herself to gently squeeze them, taking note of the look of pleasure in Elektra’s eyes. Karen’s touch caused Elektra’s nipple to harden and Elektra sharply inhaled as Karen instinctively brought her thumbs across them. The noise encouraged Karen to do it again only this time she brought her pointer fingers and thumbs against her hardened nipples and gently pinched them. Elektra shivered and Karen pinched her nipples for a second time, causing Elektra to whine. The sound shot right to Karen’s core. The intensity shocked her and before she could stop herself, a nervous giggle slipped from Karen’s mouth. The sexual tension shifted to something lighter and once again some anxiety within Karen creeped up.

”Are you ok? Do you need to stop?” Elektra asked Karen.

”No, I don’t want to stop but can we slow down a little bit?I think I got a bit too carried away. I’m really sorry I’m getting stuck in my head. I promise I want to do this with you.”

“Of course we can, darling. We can stop now if you like. There’s no pressure to do anything. We can simply sit here and talk. Or we can cuddle for a bit.” Elektra calmly said. She lifted Karen’s chin to meet her eyes.

“How are you feeling?”

Yet again, nerves began to course through Karen’s body as she took a moment and really thought about what was going on. She scanned her body, to see how it was feeling before answering. 

“Truthfully, I think I’m ashamed of how excited you make me feel. I come from a strict background where this would be frowned upon and I think a bit of my initial programming is getting to me. I don’t know how far I want to go tonight but I do know that I’m not ready to stop yet.” 

“I understand.” Elektra soothingly replied. “You and Matthew have that in common. Although something inside me believes he enjoys the suffering he brings on to himself.” She added with a giggle. 

“Yeah, I can see that. Can’t be a good Catholic boy without the corresponding guilt can you?”

“No, I think not.” Elektra whispers back, nuzzling her nose against Karen’s. She brought her hands up to the back of Karen’s head cradling her. She then slipped them up under the nape of her neck. “Can you relax for me?” She asked Karen as she began to massage the back of Karen’s head with her nails. 

“Mmmm, yeah I can.” Karen replied, relaxing into the sensation. “Tell me, do you treat all the girls you meet as good as this?” 

“No dear, not all of them. Only the special ones.” She whispered, her breath tickling the shell of Karen’s ear. That tickle quickly turned into a shiver then down the right side of her body and reigniting her core. 

Karen once again basked in the comfort of Elektra’s closeness. 

“Do you think we could lay down?” Karen asks. 

“Whatever you wish, my dear.” Elektra said, shifting so the both could lay down in the middle of the bed, facing each other. 

There was barely any space between the two of them. Bodies so close but not yet intimately entwined. Karen stared deeply into Elektra’s eyes as Elektra caressed the side of Karen’s face. The low light gleaming from the nightstand reflected the shades of green in her eyes and Karen felt she could get lost in her eyes forever. 

“How are you feeling?” she gently asks Elektra. 

Smiling, she replies, “I feel like the luckiest woman in Hell's Kitchen right now.” As she moved to wrap her arms around Karen’s shoulder, their lips met in a sensual kiss. After a few, slow passes Karen enthusiastically picked up the pace. Elektra parted her lips and their tongues danced against each other. 

Karen then moved to close the gap between them, slotting her legs in between Elektra’s. The soft curve of Elektra’s thigh felt wonderful against hers. She could smell the scent of Matt’s cologne and body wash that lingered on the bed sheets. That mixed with Elektra’s intoxicating scent left Karen heady with want. They laid like that, making out like teenagers for what felt like hours, before Elektra carefully pulled back and began to trace Karen’s lips with her finger. “Can I touch you?” Elektra asked, taking note of Karen’s blown pupils and heavy breathing. 

Karen nodded yes and Elektra brought her in for a filthy kiss that left Karen gasping for air as Elektra trailed her hands down Karen’s back, deftly working to remove her bra. Karen shuddered as Elektra took off her bra, nipples hardening at the change in temperature. “You are absolutely stunning, my dear.” Elektra murmured before lightly cupping Karen’s breasts. 

“Is this ok love?” 

“Yes, Ellie.” Karen whispered as she adjusted to give Elektra easier access. 

Elektra’s mouth dropped as she admired Karen’s perky breasts. She wanted to shamelessly ravage her but Elektra restrained herself. She did however bring her hands to Karen’s hips, squeezing them before gently teasing her way up Karen’s abdomen, admiring the way Karen’s already taught nipple hardened further. 

Karen shuddered. “Touch me, please-anything.” Karen mewled.  

Without hesitating Elektra leaned forward and brought Karen’s nipple into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around it before popping off with a wet smack. By now, Karen was alight with desire. Her heart was pounding and her blood buzzing through her veins. She leaned in to kiss Elektra and Elektra was drawn in by the energy pouring from her. 

Karen deepened the kiss and pulled her skirt up just enough to be able to feel Elektra’s clothed thigh against her bare pussy. The sensation brings gooseflesh up her body. 

Once settled into this position, she took note of how Elektra’s bare breasts felt against hers. The soft skin and hardened nipples brushing against hers had her brain in a frenzy. She so badly wanted Elektra to make love to her but also wanted to stay in the moment as is, rocking against Elektra’s thigh deeply kissing one another. 

Elektra played with Karen’s breasts as they continued to make out. Karen heatedly brought her hands down to the waistband of Elektra’s pants. Just the tease of Karen breaking the seal had Elektra beginning to pant and she ground her thigh against Karen’s center. Karen’s moans caused Elektra to remove her pants before readjusting herself comfortably on top of Karen. 

Elektra hovered over Karen before she leaned in and teasingly rubbed noses with her. 

“I have an idea.” Karen whispered with a grin, grinding against Elektra. 

“Hit me.” She retorts, playfully thrusting her thigh against Karen’s center. Some of her excitement rubs off on Elektra’s thigh. 

“I’m really enjoying this. Honestly, I could do this for hours with you.” Karen admitted as she reached down to fondle Elektra’s breasts. 

“I love the way your skin feels against mine. And your kisses are divine. There’s no race to an end with you. However, poor Matthew has been out there for a long time-” 

“You needn’t worry about him, angel. I’ll handle him after I take care of you.” Elektra nips, the words not only affecting Karen but Matt too. He patiently remained seated in his chair, cock straining against his pants as he utilized his senses to enjoy the activities going on in his bed right now. Planning out what he would do when it was time to finally join them. 

Karen gasped at the idea of Elektra taking care of her. “See that’s the thing. I was hoping maybe we could touch ourselves…together.” She asked, nerves causing her to chew on her bottom lip. 

“I think that’s a lovely idea.” Elektra said as she leaned in to give Karen a gentle kiss before she moved to take off her panties. Once the garment was tossed to the side, Elektra knelt on the bed, sitting in between Karen’s spread thighs. 

“Show me how you like to touch yourself, Karen.” Her voice dripped like honey as she spread her knees, giving Karen a view of her cunt. 

Karen reached down with two fingers and began to run quick circles around her clit. Elektra watched for a few moments before meeting Karen’s gaze. She slowly caressed a hand down her body before bringing it over to cusp her pussy. Rubbing herself for a few strokes before spreading herself open with her fingers, revealing her wetness to Karen. 

“All of that is because of me?” Karen asked, eyes blazing into Elektra’s?

”Yes and I can’t wait to have you.” 

Elektra’s admission went straight to Karen’s pussy. Her arousal pooled on the bed, unknowing that she was laying on Matt’s side. 

Karen spread her legs further as she felt herself getting closer. The coil in her belly was so tight and it was going to break loose at any moment. 

Karen lay there, gyrating her hips, hand speeding up to match Elektra’s pace. Her excitement boiled over and her body stiffened as she came, reality splintering before her. 

Elektra feverishly watched Karen’s pussy pulsate as she came, knowing her release was coming soon. She sped up the movements on herself before her shockwaves hit her. The sweetest moan Karen ever heard slipped from Elektra’s mouth as she dissolved into pleasure. 

Once the last wave rolled through her body, Elektra relaxed her body, sitting down on the bed, pulling Karen’s calves around Elektra’s waist. 

“Are you ok?” She softly asked Karen. 

“More than. That was amazing, Ellie.”

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Karen asks, “What should we do about Matt?”

”Well, he has been a very good boy. I know hearing you moan for me must have been torturous. We should at least untie him for good behavior. If you don’t feel ready yet, I can give him a bit of a treat.” 

“I like the sound of that.” Karen replied. “Do you think I can watch?” 

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: NIGHTMARE 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

"Waking Nightmare" (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic)🌧️

Time for the next prompt for my Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! This is for day 7. Took an extra day to work on it cause this is a very angsty one, since our prompt was 'Nightmare' and I went with the classic, 'he accidently swings at you while asleep' trope (many thanks to @sunflowersandsapphires and @shouldbestudying41 for helping me with our chats on this one!). 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!

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Wordcount: 5.2k

Warnings for this chapter: BIG angst warning on this one, along with a warning for being hit (not intentional), nightmares, guilt, blood, Matt's convinced he committed DV so that is discussed.

It began, like so many disasters did, with a series of small fractures. 

What started as a horrible week turned out to be the harbinger of a truly terrible month for Matt. Despite near-constant, frantic late nights of casework at Nelson and Murdock, the firm lost two important cases in short order. Both cases had been a long shot when it came to success, but that had done little to soften the blow to Foggy, Karen, and Matt—especially Matt, who’d made promises to client families that he’d been unable to keep.

Matt’s work as Daredevil hadn’t gone much better. A new gang had moved into the Kitchen and set up shop, staking out a territory drenched in blood, ash, and terror. Matt had thrown himself into that fight with the same determination that he always did, and while he’d made serious progress breaking down their operation, there had still been losses. As far as he was concerned, the lives lost in the past month—the three targeted victims in the burning apartment complex he’d been unable to reach in time, and the two store clerks shot and killed in their shops before he could make it to them—were caused by his own personal failings. Despite your best attempts to convince him otherwise, the perceived blood on his hands had only driven him to devote himself even more ferociously to his work at night and during the day.

That devotion snowballed rapidly into a lack of sleep, often the first casualty in Matt’s life when things got stressful or busy. The exhaustion only sent him spiraling further into bouts of anger and a retreat behind his emotional walls. He snapped at you whenever you tried to talk to him about it, shying away from the kind touches he felt he didn’t deserve. While a quiet apology almost always came later in the night, soft and full of regret, it didn’t change the fact that you could see him beginning to splinter and crumble beneath the pressure he’d placed on himself, your Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders. You’d gone through this with him before, the periods in which it all seemed to go wrong and he refused to strap on the lifevests you stubbornly threw to him over and over again. As best you could tell, when these storms came there was no other option but to simply plant your roots deep and ride it out with him, ensure he knew he wasn’t alone. And when he finally fell to pieces, giving beneath the weight, you’d make sure he had a loving hand to help him glue his bloody, broken pieces back together. 

You’d thought that fracturing would come from something on the streets. Another death, maybe, or sheer exhaustion. 

You’d never expected it to happen here.

Not at home. 

“You’re going out?” You watched him dig through his father’s trunk for his suit, his back to you. He’d only just returned from another late night at the office. The only reason you were seeing him at all was because you’d woken up thirsty, heading out to the kitchen to get a glass of water. The distance between you both abruptly felt so much farther than a meager ten feet, so much harder to cross. Still, you tried. “It’s almost two. Some rest might—” “Don’t,” he said tightly, yanking his mask out and tossing it back onto the couch. He pulled out the rest of his suit next along with his billy clubs. His movements were unnaturally stiff, almost robotic. “I need to…” He sucked in an uneven breath, reaching up to run an exhausted hand through his dark hair.  After a moment, he dropped his hand, going back to what he’d been doing. If anything, your implication had only made him more determined, his voice now resolute and closed off. “Our appeals aren’t going well. The city’s quiet for the first time in a month, but that might not last. I need to go out. Just for an hour or two. Go back to bed.”

You gnawed on your lower lip in thought as he stalked over to the couch. Without his shirt, it was so much easier to see the lines of stress and tension cutting their way through him like winding roads, his muscles drawn up tight and hard. The bruising along the canvas of his back and ribs stood out with every neon flash of the billboard beyond the windows, adding a layer of blood red to the spiraling waves of deep blue and sullen indigo painted on his skin. That he’d been hurt even with the protection of the suit told you just how bad it had gotten out there. He needed rest, desperately. You both knew it. But you couldn’t bear the thought of trying to keep him here, forcing him to listen to the sounds of the city without being able to do anything about it. It was a promise you’d made to yourself, once, and you intended to keep it.

“Ok, D.” You kept your tone gentle. He’d hear you even across the room. “Ok. Come back safe.”

Some of his tension eased at your agreement, and he slowed where he’d been opening up his suit, preparing to step into it. Had he really thought you’d fight him? 

“I…” He shook his head after a moment. He turned until you could see him in profile, that same red light now highlighting the dark, bruised shadows beneath his eyes. But for just a moment, there was the barest softening in his expression, a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. You knew this look, this hand stretched out through the bars of the darkened prison cell he’d found himself trapped within. “I love you,” he said softly. “So much. I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m sorry.” 

“I know. Don’t worry about me for now. We’ll work it out. Just be careful tonight.” You tilted your head as he took a few tentative steps towards you. You took your own small step, cautious like you were approaching a stray who might run if you moved too quickly. He lifted his hand once you were within reach, the back of his fingers stroking lightly, tenderly against your cheek. You turned and brushed your lips fondly against his fingers, your eyes fluttering shut as you soaked in the warmth of his skin. It was the most intentional touch you’d gotten from him in a week, outside those moments in his sleep when he held you close, and god, were you grateful for it, something in you easing at the return of his affection. It meant he was coming out of this, swimming back up to the light and out of the void he’d been lost in. Sometimes you wondered if him denying himself your touch wasn’t just another way he punished himself when his darker thoughts seized hold of him. “I love you, too.”

“Go back to bed, sweetheart.” He tipped your chin up so he could place a tired kiss on your forehead before he let you go and returned to his suit. His motions, at least, seemed more settled now. “I’ll be back in an hour if it’s quiet, I promise. I’ll find a way to make it up to you this weekend.”

You left him there in the living area, more content than you’d felt in weeks. Sure, the past month had been shit for you both, but you were coming out of it now just like always. You fell asleep comfortably with that knowledge, cradling it inside you against your heart as you drifted off. 

You weren’t sure what it was that woke you later. Not at first, anyway. The bedroom was dark and quiet, save for the usual sounds of the city at night that leaked in through the closed windows. Matt’s arms weren’t around you, but it was possible he hadn’t gotten back yet. Without any other signs of danger, you gave a soft huff of irritation. Figures. Waking up over nothing. You shifted your head around on the pillow until you found a nice cold spot, closed your eyes, and began to drift back off. 

Then you heard it again behind you.  

Your brow furrowed, eyes blinking back open.

Right, now you knew it wasn’t just a dream. 

The sound you’d heard wasn’t quite a moan. It wasn’t a word, either. Hell, you didn’t know what to call it, exactly, but it definitely wasn’t a happy noise, that much you knew. This sounded… almost pained, hitched and edged with something like panic. You blearily rolled over to get a better look, still half-asleep.

Apparently Matt had gotten back while you were asleep, the shadowy outline of him curled up on the opposite side of the bed. He was also facing away from you, which was… odd. Most nights, he slept with you in his arms—or him in yours on particularly bad nights. That he’d either consciously or unconsciously placed this much distance between you would have stirred the smoldering embers of worry if you’d been more awake. It wasn’t right that he was over ther, curled in on himself, small and isolated, a lonely island in the sea of silk sheets. As you watched, he twitched restlessly, before making that same small, pained noise you’d heard before. Or was it scared? 

Nightmare, you thought sleepily. That explained the distance. He’d probably just rolled away in his sleep. You yawned, untangling yourself enough from your cocoon of blankets that you start crawling over towards him. Clearly this was one of those nights when he was the one that needed to be held. You weren’t entirely sure why your presence helped to soothe his nightmares, but for whatever reason, your arms around him and your breathing against his back, your heartbeat pressed against his back, was often all he needed. Even if he woke up when you got over to him, he’d have an easier time falling back asleep with you holding him. He always did. Especially after such a terrible month. 

You yawned again when you finally settled down behind him, throwing one arm over his waist and spooning affectionately up against his back. He stirred slightly at that, his body going tense and hard, his chest resonating with a soft growl. But he quickly quieted, soothed at the sound of your voice.

“It’s ok, Matt,” you said sleepily, breathing slowly, intentionally against the hard line of his back. “You’re ok, sweetheart. Just a bad dream.” You tucked your legs up behind his, nuzzling over onto his pillow, hunting for him even as your eyes fell shut again. You’d kick yourself later, for what you did next. 

Without thinking, you leaned in… and brushed a firm kiss against the back of his neck. 

Just like that, the peace, the calm was shattered. 

A wild snarl filled the air, followed by a sudden, blinding explosion of pain across your face that lit up the black behind your eyes like a skyline of fireworks. Before you could even cry out, you’d been thrown clear of the bed. You only just avoiding cracking your temple on the corner of Matt’s nightstand. But what your head missed, the rest of your body didn’t. As you slid across the nightstand and came crashing to the ground, you brought down every last object on the nightstand with you, glass and metal shattering somewhere far away from where you were, the whole of the world gone thick and quiet. 

Things got fuzzy then, a sickening carnival maze of light spinning in your vision every time you blinked. Your dazed thoughts were thick, slow to come together. But, still, you tried, because something was very, very wrong. 

Matt. 

Yes. You needed to find Matt. He was probably out on the streets still. It was the only way someone could have broken in just to hit you like an asshole. You weren’t sure where you were crawling too exactly, but away from the threat felt like a good start. As you moved, something hot and wet began to pour down your face in steady streams, irritating and coppery whenever it made it into your mouth. Fortunately, that was a distant problem. You could worry about whatever was on your face later. Your only concern at the moment was holding your attacker off until Matt could get here and kick some fucking ass. 

A pair of feet slammed against the floor, someone calling out, panicked and frantic. The sound was far too garbled for you to understand it immediately, but what it did tell you was that your attacker was still close by. There wasn’t anything around you that you could easily use to defend yourself, or at least, there wasn’t until your hand bumped into something long and metallic. You snatched it up, ignoring the sudden appearance of pain in your palm as you did so. You dragged it with you, metal squealing across the floorboards as you scrambled on your hands and knees. In seconds, you’d made it out of the bedroom and into the living area. 

Good. When Matt came through the rooftop door, he’d have less distance to cross to get to you. You’d also be able to see your attacker better in the flash of the billboard lights, though the flashing sea of red light made your eyes water and burn. But you could also feel your vision clearing, which was great. You’d need it. 

A shaking, trembling hand brushed against your shoulder. 

You rose up swiftly on your knees, metal rod clutched tight in both hands. “Get away from me!” you snarled, putting every last ounce of strength you had into your motion as you twisted and swung. 

And Matt—

What?

—snapped his hand up, catching the lamp rod just before it could hit him in the face. 

“...Matt?” you asked shakily, unable to hide your confusion. “It was you?”

“This can’t be happening, no, no no no,” he choked out tearfully, his breath coming panicked and wild. His tone was so ragged you almost didn’t recognize the voice as his. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re bleeding, I-I’m sorry, I’m so—”

The lamp rod fell from your paired grips. Hands shaking, he brought them up tentatively towards your face. He stopped just before he could touch you, hovering them a breath away from your skin. The first of his tears began to trail down his cheeks, his expression twisting in what you alarmingly recognized as grief. You’d seen him cry before, but never like this. “God, I-I didn’t know it was you, I’m sorry, I thought you were…”

He was… apologizing. But that didn’t make sense, no matter how much you tried to force the idea to settle into your dazed mind. It couldn’t have been Matt. You weren’t afraid of Matt. Matt didn’t hurt you. He didn’t hit you. Those were facts, as irrefutable as gravity, as reliable as the rise and the fall of the sun. You didn’t understand, just like you didn’t understand why he wasn’t holding you. He always did when you were hurt. “You… you hit me?”

The low, agonized noise he made was inhuman. It was the sound of a wounded animal, of someone who’d just been carved open. His hands drew back from your face, dropping down towards your hands where they’d settled on your thighs, though he seemed just as hesitant to touch you there. Tears dripped down from his face, joining the droplets of thick, deep red now scattered across the floor. Had you left all fo that there? You really… were bleeding, weren’t you?

“I-I… I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t,” he whispered brokenly, his breath hitching with what was almost a whimper. He grabbed one of the blankets off the chair next to him, the one you loved to curl up under with him. He slid it as gently as he could around one of your hands—oh, you were bleeding there, too, just a little, goddamn cheap lamp—though he avoided allowing his skin to brush against yours. “I was… having a nightmare, and I thought-I thought you were someone else, they had you and I was trying to-to get to you but someone grabbed me and I—God, you have a concussion, your nose is-is bleeding. I have to call Claire, get away from you b-before I… I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry—”

Finally, the idea settled into your mind, the world abruptly righting itself. 

The nightmare.

Well, that made sense.

You still weren’t quite thinking right, thoughts thick and fuzzy like wisps of cotton, a massive, throbbing ache in your head and face that only got worse every time the billboard lit up. But you you’d been right. Matt didn’t hit you. He hadn’t hit you, because he hadn’t known it was you. Hell, he’d even apparently been trying to save you, at least in his nightmare. It seemed simple enough to you, an obvious accident. But it didn’t seem quite so simple to Matt. You reached for his cheek. “Matt,” you soothed, your words only a tiny bit slurred as he sniffled and wrapped the blanket tighter around your hand, applying firm pressure to stop the bleeding. “It’s ok, Matt. You didn’t mean it.”

But the second your fingertips brushed against his skin, he threw himself backwards and out of your reach, his dark eyes wild. “Don’t!” he spat.  You faltered just a little, suddenly unsure. But you quickly shook it off, shakily climbing to your feet to follow after him. Your own injuries felt secondary in that moment, because this… this was the wound, the disaster that might do you both in if you didn’t find some way to stop it. Your bloody nose and hand could wait. “You didn’t mean it, Matt. It was an accident.” 

For every step you took forward, he took one back, the two of you performing some twisted, heartbreaking sort of dance across the floor. Eventually you cornered him against the wall, hemming him in. He was almost shaking as you stepped in close. Your hand rose and this time around, you successfully managed to cup his jaw, trying to press your affection, your calm into his skin. “Easy, Devil-Man. I’m ok,” you murmured. You swiped one thumb over the trail of tears sliding down his cheek, a new one appearing each time you’d cleared away the last, an endless stream of them falling from his grief-stricken eyes as they darted sightlessly around you. “This wasn’t your fault. Help me get cleaned up and then we’ll talk about it, ok?” 

He hitched a soft, quiet breath when you tugged his head down, his forehead pressed to yours like he’d done for you so many times before. You breathed with him for a moment, trying to ease him down.  He swallowed hard, his eyes fluttering closed as you stroked your thumb against his cheek, and for a moment, you almost thought you’d managed to fix it. 

A breath. 

His jaw clenched, and your heart sank.

This time when his eyes opened, all traces of warmth in them were gone. Whatever door you’d once pried open was now shut, slammed resoundingly in your face. “No. It’s not ok.” He brushed your hand away, sliding out from between you and the wall without so much as a pause. He reached up to wipe away his tears, the motion sharp and edged with tension. “Where are you going?” “I need to call Claire to come look you over,” he said flatly, heading for the kitchen. “I’ll use my burner. Mine was on the… the nightstand.” The brief crack in his voice, a brittle chip in the armor he’d just tried to throw up around himself, only confirmed what you’d hoped you could avoid.

“Matt,” you said softly. “Don’t lock me out like this.”

He may have been aiming for calm but he couldn’t hide what he was feeling, not entirely anyway. Not when his hands were still trembling as he felt around on the kitchen counter, acting like he hadn’t heard you. “I’ll call Foggy, too. Once they’re here, I’ll go.” 

“What?” You watched in disbelief as he kept hunting along the counter. With every second that passed and he failed to find it, he grew more frustrated, more angry. He quickly turned his back to you, body stiff like he was expecting a sudden blow. “You’re you’re leaving me?” “I hit you,” he spat viciously, another seething wave of emotion bubbling up through the cracks of his voice like acid, bitter and toxic and just as liable to burn. Here it was, here it was: the self-loathing, the disgust, the burning hatred. He drew in a sharp breath, shivering as he did. And on the exhale, he seemed to have regained control. His voice rapidly returned to that same cold, emotionless monotone, though he kept his face out of your view. Whatever expression he had would give him away, you were certain of it. “I almost broke your nose. You have a concussion. You cut yourself trying to get away from me. I’ve put men in the hospital for a lot less. You’re not safe with me—”

“That’s horseshit,” you huffed, starting towards him on wobbly legs. You had to stop and grab one of the chairs just to keep your balance and halt you from pitching over onto the floor. Not that it was a concern; no matter how upset Matt was, he’d catch you. But still, you falling would only make things worse. You forced yourself to breathe through the roiling in your stomach, unsure if it was the concussion that was making you nauseous or simply the knowledge that he was trying to leave you. But you wouldn’t let those fucking voices in his mind—ones that probably sounded like Stick—drive him away from you. Not without a fight. At least your nose seemed to have stopped bleeding. That was a good sign. “It was an accident. We both know it. This just—it happens something with nightmares, including non-vigilantes, Matt. I’ve woken up scared and smacked you in the face more than once, and you know it.” 

“You didn’t throw me across a nightstand or give me a concussion.” He barked out a bitter laugh. The hateful sound filled you with dread, as did the heartbreaking resolve beneath it. He’d already made up his mind, convinced himself of what he’d done. “I always knew. That’s what they all said. That I was cursed. That I had the Devil inside me. That all I wanted was to hit someone. This is who I am. I wanted to believe it wasn’t true, but deep down, I knew. And now I hurt you. I can’t let that happen again, even if it means I have to leave to keep you safe.” 

“Matt,” you said desperately, managing to make it to the couch, bracing yourself against the arm of it. If you could just get to him, you could fix this. You knew that. “That’s not true. Let’s just talk about this.”

Matt ignored you again, snatching up his keys and starting towards the hall. “I can’t find my burner,” he said. That tone, flat and empty of all feeling, was so much worse than anger. You’d take anger any day—you’d take grief, or hurt. Emotion meant you had a way in, that he’d opened himself to you, baring all the parts of him left vulnerable and raw. This tone, though…You couldn’t help but feel like you were banging your bloodied fists against a door abruptly chained shut. “Keep pressure on your hand. I’m going next door to ask for their phone so I can call Claire. I’ll only be gone for a minute, then I’ll be back. I’ll find somewhere else to stay once she’s here to take care of you.”

No. 

No, he couldn’t leave you over an accident. Your heart rate shot up, rattling against the lump in your throat. You almost felt like you couldn’t breathe, panic crushing your lungs in their grip, something that made him him stiffen. And you-you couldn’t let him leave, not like this, not when he might not come back. There had to be something, some way to reach him and keep him from destroying, burning down the best thing in both of your lives. And there was only one method that might work in a moment like this.  

Holding up a mirror.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. 

And Matt… froze in the hall, a mere three steps from the front door. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, more firmly now. You didn’t bother to hide the waver in your voice. You drew in a slow breath, exhaling just as slowly. It wasn’t blood running down your face, now, and he’d know it. “I’m sorry for scaring you. For touching your neck in your sleep. I know how vulnerable it is, and how you feel about it being touched by anyone other than me. I didn’t think about what touching that might feel like during a nightmare.” 

“Stop apologizing,” he growled, his shoulders drawing up tight. “They’re not the same thing, and you know it.”

But despite his objections, he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t left yet. Hell, maybe he’d found he couldn’t. Not when you were injured. You’d take it if it meant you had a chance.

“Aren’t they the same?” You reached up with your good hand, sniffling a little as you wiped some of the blood off your face. “According to you, they are. It doesn’t matter what I meant to do, right? Just that I did something that led to me hurting you. And this is hurting you. I can tell.” You choked out a wobbly laugh when he flinched. You used that break in his armor to edge closer, praying you didn’t stumble and fall, losing the ground you’d just gained. “Do you remember when I slipped and dropped that bowl last month and it shattered and cut your feet?” 

“That’s not—”

“I had to pick shards of porcelain out of your poor bare feet. I felt horrible.” Another step. Then another. “Remember when I smacked you in the face during my nightmare last January? Split your lip and everything.” You caught one hand against the shelving unit by the hall, taking a split second to breathe, more tired than you wanted to admit. “You told me those weren’t my fault. You even fucking laughed about your lip. But if this accident is your fault, then all those times are my fault, and so is this one, if you think about it. So I’m sorry, Matt.”  

“I hit you,” came his voice, trembling and uneven. You had a feeling those three small words were your target, spiraling on loop in his mind, their sharp edges tearing into him over and over again. His head slowly dropped, his body curling in on itself as you stopped a few feet away. He shuddered then, and without being able to see his face, you couldn’t tell if it was shame or just… hurt. “Don’t apologize when I hit you. I threw you across the room. I-I hurt you.” 

“Oh, Matt,” you whispered. You took another step, at last coming within touching distance where you might be able to reach him. “It was an accident, sweetheart. You didn’t mean it. You didn’t know it was me. But… but if you want to talk about hurting me, let’s talk about this here.” He stilled when he felt the first gentle touch of your hand against his back. Warm, unafraid, tender. 

“If you’re worried about hurting me, this is how you’d do it,” you said softly, trailing your fingers down the line of his spine with all the love you had in you. “By leaving, Matt. By leaving me here without you when I love you more than anything or anyone else in the world. Don’t do that to me. Please.” This time the sound he made was a broken sob, one hand rising up to fist in his hair. He sank slowly to the ground. You sank with him, winding your arms tight around him as he finally broke, shattering beneath the weight of his guilt. When he didn’t reject your touch, you quickly shifted around him, climbing into his lap. His arms found their way home around your waist, clinging to you tight as you rocked him in your arms, his face buried against your neck, tears flowing hot to join the blood still clinging to your skin. “I’m sorry.” His voice was thick with sorrow, each breath one he had to fight for.  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you, I’m sorry—” “Listen to me. This was not your fault. I promise, baby,” you whispered, lifting his head to press your forehead to his like you had before. His eyes were shut, but they fluttered open just for you, as he finally, finally let you back in. You could almost see the torment swirling in them, the guilt, but that was alright. If you could see those shadows, you could fight them. “You were asleep, Matt. You were dreaming. You can’t control what your brain does then. If it thinks there’s a threat, it’s going to react without your input. Do you know how I can be so sure you won’t hurt me? How this all just proved I’m safe with you?” His blank gaze shifted around you, one shaking hand coming up to trace your smile in open disbelief. 

“Because the second you woke up, you were horrified.” You leaned into him, running the fingers of your good hand through his hair as he let out another shaky, breathless sob. “The second you woke up and realized it was me, it just broke you. You would never choose to hurt me, Matt. You're not a violent person, even if you've been taught to use it out there. A bad man doesn’t react like you did. A good man does. You are a good man, do you hear me? And if you leave?” You found his hand with your good one to lace your fingers together and squeeze, his eyes fluttering closed, as did yours. “I swear to God I’ll go stand in an alley in my pajamas and scream that until you have to come protect me from every mugger in the Kitchen. Which will only prove my point that you’d never let anything or anyone hurt me.”  He choked out a quiet, watery laugh, letting you bring his head back down to your throat. His tearful groan at the affection just made you cling to you tighter. “I love you,” he hitched out. “I love you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I’m so sorry. God forgive me, I’m so, so sorry.” 

“I love you, too, Matt,” you whispered, burying your face in his hair. “It’s not your fault. Don’t let your nightmare knock us out this easily. Get back up. Stay, and fight for me, for us. Can you do that for me?”

You felt his eyes fall closed, and for the first time since he’d woken up, you heard a different kind of resolve in his voice: one that was far more familiar, far more welcome, solid and warm and steadfast, a strength you’d happily build your life upon, as he let your love seep in through the cracks to at last chase away some of the dark.

His breath eased out against your skin, soft and familiar. “I… ok. I can do that.”

“Good.”

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "Shh, I've got you now. I'm here."🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

You're My Safe Place

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

Tuna-Tober Prompt: “Shh, I’ve got you now. I’m here.”

Warnings/tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, panic attack, mentions of Reader being teased for weight (and a couple other things), soft Frank

Summary: Frank and you are getting ready to attend your family's Thanksgiving dinner later, but the stress of the holiday season and the distress of seeing your horrible aunt has you nosediving right into a panic attack.

a/n: I've always wanted to write Frank comforting Reader over a panic attack so I slipped one in for this event. This is for anyone with a family member (or members) that are awful to be around now that the holidays are coming up. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

With both hands grasping the kitchen counter in a near death grip, you leaned over the countertop as you tried to stay focused on the coffee machine in front of you. You were tired, having woken up early to a string of anxious thoughts about the Thanksgiving dinner tonight with your extended family that Frank and you would be attending. But as the coffee began to brew with a soft whir, your mind continued spiraling like it had been doing since five this morning. Ever since you’d woken up in bed next to Frank, staring at his bare shoulder poking out from beneath the bed sheets, you hadn’t been able to stop the dread and anxiety about what horrible comments your aunt would subject you to at this holiday gathering. Especially with all of the stress you’d already been under with the holiday season now in full swing.

Breath coming in sharper, your hands gripped the countertop even tighter. Farther down the hall you could hear Frank moving around in the bedroom getting ready for the day, and as much as you tried to ground yourself in the familiarity of that, you felt yourself steadily slipping as your mind replayed all of the awful things your aunt had said to you in the past–about your age and lack of a husband, the fact that you were still childless, that your profession was a joke, and even making jabs about your weight. Your vision began to blur as her irritating voice rang clear in your mind, your heart pounding so heavily that you felt the resounding vibration in your throat. Your rib cage felt as if it had clamped itself around your lungs and heart like a vice, constricting them both tighter and tighter while you fought to take a single full breath.

A panic attack. You were on the verge of another panic attack. Teetering just right at the edge, waiting to topple straight into it.

But no–no, you couldn’t. Not here. Not with Frank just in the other room. He had never seen you like this before and you never wanted him to see you like this. He had enough to worry about already and you refused to be another reason for the crease between his brows. He didn’t need to know how much something so ridiculous affected you. But at the same time, you knew tonight was the first family gathering of yours he’d be attending. Which meant it would be the first time he’d meet your aunt. The first time he’d be hearing the things she’d say about you.

Desperately you began sharply inhaling air through your gritted teeth, your eyes snapping tightly shut as you tried to get control of yourself. You just needed to focus, to breathe, to think about literally anything else besides the dinner and your aunt. But the harder you tried to fight it, the more her insults kept slipping through the quickly crumbling cracks in your mind. 

You were falling into it now, too far gone. The memories of past family gatherings were surfacing now; her repeated passive aggressive comments at the dinner table about your plate of food, the Christmas gifts that were meant ‘to help you attract a man’ or ‘lose a few of those unnecessary pounds,’ the constant comparisons to her golden child of a daughter, the rude questions about your salary. Your body was curling in on itself as you kept struggling to fight off the sensation that was dragging you under. You were gasping for breath, hyperventilating and too deep in to pull yourself back out. With shaking, sweat-dampened hands, you tried to readjust your hold on the countertop as if it was some lifeline that would keep you grounded in the present. But with your eyes closed, your hand missed the countertop and accidentally bumped into one of the coffee mugs sitting on it instead. You’d opened your eyes just in time to see the white ceramic mug fall to the floor and shatter, the noise louder than that of your own ragged, sharp breaths.

That’s when you lost it.

Dropping to the floor in a heap, tears streamed down your cheeks as you pulled your legs up to your body, as if they’d somehow help to keep your heart from beating straight through your chest. Your nails dug into your calves, partially in an attempt to keep your legs firmly pressed to yourself, but partly because the sting of them biting into your skin helped to counteract the growing panic inside of you.

And that’s when you’d heard Frank’s thudding, hurried footsteps as he came rushing out of the bedroom and straight into the kitchen. With vision tinged in white at the edges, you struggled to look up at Frank when he paused at the entrance of the room. You could only imagine how you looked to him right now, huddled in a ball beside the shattered coffee mug, tears pouring down your cheeks as you continued to suck in shallow, gasping breaths. 

He didn’t stand there long. In four quick strides he was on the floor beside you, a stern and almost unreadable expression on his face. But even in the midst of your panic attack, you could still see the fear and worry hidden behind his dark eyes. He was terrified and confused.

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” he ordered.

His hands hovered in the air between you both, as if he wanted to offer you comfort but he wasn’t certain if he should touch you. Your tongue darted out of your dry mouth to wet your lips as you attempted to concentrate, but the lack of proper oxygen to your brain with the way you’d been breathing was causing everything to become a haze. And with the way your breaths kept coming in sharp and shallow, there was no way you could get a word out.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. “Somethin’ happen? Tell me what’s goin’ on.”

You shook your head in answer to his questions, your entire body trembling against the kitchen cabinets behind you. There was no way you could form words right now, not with the way it felt like your throat was closing up.

Almost as if a light went off in Frank’s head a second later, realization dawned on him and his entire demeanor shifted. Immediately the urgency left his voice, his tone becoming something soft and soothing as his hands finally and gently landed on your shoulders. Though the concern was still apparent in his eyes, not something he could just push away.

“Relax, honey,” he said. “You’re alright. ‘S'just a panic attack.”

You nodded, breath still coming in sharp, short gasps. This wasn’t the first one you’d had, but that didn’t alleviate the fear and embarrassment that managed to surface within you at the moment. You didn’t want Frank to see you like this.

“Need you to take some deep breaths, sweetheart,” he told you. “In and out. Can you do that for me?”

Nodding again, you felt a few more hot tears streak their way down your cheeks. As Frank’s thumbs drew comforting little circles along your shoulders, his face hovering just a foot in front of yours, you tried to inhale a deep, shaky breath.

“That’s it, honey,” he praised. “Nice and slow. Don’t fight it, just breathe through it.”

Nails digging tight into your calves, you tried to focus on Frank’s face and his soothing words. Inhaling another ragged breath in, you tried to take a full breath while fighting the protesting burning in your lungs. Frank’s eyes remained fixed on you as you inhaled the breath, but his hands released your shoulders, both of them coming down to gently pull your fingers away from where they were digging into your calves. 

“Keep going, sweetheart,” he encouraged. “Doin’ good.”

As you inhaled a few more sharp breaths, your tears gradually began to slow even if the trembling of your body did not lessen. The rough pads of Frank’s thumbs began soothingly stroking the back of your hands, the sensation helping to steadily draw you back to the present and out of your head.

“I’m–I’m sorry,” you gasped out.

“Shh, I’ve got you now. I’m here,” Frank murmured, pulling you in towards himself. “Don’t apologize.”

Clinging to him, your hands desperately grabbed at the back of his soft sweater as you buried your face into his shoulder. Your breathing was still shallow and uneven, your heart beating a little erratically in your chest, but you felt yourself little by little coming back out of the panic attack as you continued to follow Frank’s calm instructions to breathe in and out.

It was a few minutes before you finally felt yourself really calm down. You kept your face buried in Frank’s shoulder, embarrassment coursing through you. You couldn’t believe he’d just witnessed you have a panic attack, let alone over something so stupid.

“You good?” he eventually asked after a moment.

Nodding your head against his shoulder, your fingers eased their grip on his sweater, though you didn’t release your hold of him. “Yeah,” you quietly answered.

“What was that 'bout?” he asked.

You stiffened in his arms, afraid to tell him the truth. Tonight was the first family gathering of yours he’d agreed to attend, which meant he was bound to witness some of these comments firsthand. Even if you didn’t tell him about it now, you knew he’d eventually see it happening later.

“C’mon sweetheart,” Frank gently prompted. “Can’t help if you don’t talk to me.”

“It’s…it’s stupid,” you muttered into his shoulder.

“Not stupid if it’s got you this upset,” he disagreed. “Talk to me.”

Sighing, you turned and rested your cheek along his shoulder, keeping your eyes averted as embarrassment continued to flush your face. “It’s just…this Thanksgiving dinner tonight. I have this–this aunt that I cannot stand. She’s always stuck her nose into my personal business–and I mean real personal sometimes. And she makes these–” you paused, wincing, “–these horribly rude comments to me. Usually when it’s just her cornering me somewhere, but sometimes over the holiday dinners in front of everyone. And I–I just don’t want to see her.”

“Then don’t go,” he said. “We don’t have to.”

“I can’t just not go, Frank,” you replied. “I’d never see my family for holidays again if I simply just stopped going to family gatherings. And generally I enjoy seeing everybody else, it’s just–just her. And I’m…”

Your voice trailed off, your eyes focused on the shattered coffee mug still on the floor just behind Frank. Besides hearing the things she might throw at you this time, the other thing that had been bothering you recently was the fact that this time she would be making these comments in front of Frank. He’d be there to hear every jab she made about you, every comment about what a failure she thought you were or what she deemed wrong with your appearance. Right in front of him.

“You’re what?” he asked.

Swallowing hard, your eyes slowly closed before you answered him in a small voice. “I’m not looking forward to you hearing it.”

Frank’s large hands were immediately pulling your face away from his shoulder before turning it to look at him. You were met with a firm, fearsome expression, one that would’ve sent a shudder down your spine if you hadn’t known how soft he truly was beneath that gruff and intimidating exterior. 

“She won’t say a goddamn thing with me there, sweetheart,” Frank told you, voice a low warning. “Promise you that.”

You smiled softly back up at him. “Frank, you can’t start a physical altercation at Thanksgiving dinner,” you pointed out.

“No,” he agreed. “But I don’t have to do that to get her to keep her mouth shut.”

An amused snort slipped out of you at his words, your mind racing through a myriad of possible situations of how Frank would keep your aunt from verbally attacking you this evening. Each scenario was just as satisfying as the next.

“Honestly, I don’t doubt that,” you replied before sighing. “And I know this…just seems like a dumb thing to get so worked up over but…her comments really get to me. Just every time I see her, she’s always twisting the knife. And then her words stick with me. Always have ever since I was little.”

Frank held you a bit tighter in his arms as he shook his head firmly. “Not alright with anyone talkin’ to you like that. Making you feel this upset,” he told you. “She’s already on my shit list and I haven’t met her.”

You couldn’t fight back the little laugh that bubbled out of you at the idea of Frank Castle putting your aunt on his ‘shit list.’ A tiny grin slipped onto his lips at the sound, a mischievous glint appearing in his dark eyes.

“I have a feeling you and her will not get along this evening,” you said.

“I’ve got that same feeling, sweetheart,” Frank replied, his grin growing. “But whatever happens, you know I’ll be right there.”

Smiling softly up at him, you nodded. “Yeah, yeah I know you will be.”

Frank pulled you back to his chest, his hands once more soothingly running along your back. When he spoke again, his voice a deep rumble, you felt a bit of the anxiety in your mind easing just a bit.

“Not gonna be alone tonight,” he murmured. “Be right there with you.”

Frank Castle One Shot Tag List: @heimtathurs @linamarr @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @leikelle @pinkratts @1988-fiend @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @stilldreaming666 @will-delete-this-later-probably @yarrystyleeza @pone21 @millennial-birkin @harleycao @kezibear @justanerd1 @sadest-bookshelf @loves0phelia

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✨🐟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

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✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: ROLE REVERSAL🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

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: Honest Apology + "I'm in love with you, and that scares me." 🐟✨

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Day 7 - Distant

Prompt: 7: Honest Apology + Alt: “I’m in love with you, and that scares me.” Character: Frank Castle Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader Word Count: 2318 Warnings: Break-up fears, referenced near-fatal injury, referenced canon character death, fear of death, fear of loss. Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist

Companion piece to Day 27 - You Are To Me, Day 1 - Why?, and Day 11 - Proof of Life

Distant

You put down your phone. You took a deep breath, shallowing the lump in your throat. You weren’t going to cry. Not here at the coffee shop. You hated crying in public.

Frank hadn’t answered your call. He hadn’t been answering any of your calls. Or your texts. And he hadn’t tried to call back. Not a single word out of him. And you hadn’t seen him either.

You knew he wasn’t dead. Someone would have told you. They wouldn’t let you just sit and worry.

And you didn’t think he had his phone. Or otherwise couldn’t communicate. None of your mutual friends had called or come to see you, asking if you had heard from Frank. Which they would have if he hadn’t contacted any of them for a week.

You didn’t understand. Frank had never done this. While he did have a tendency to slink off to nurse his wounds or illnesses in private, he had always responded to you. Always called or texted back. Likewise he had done some missions where it was too dangerous to contact you until it was over. But he had always warned you about that before he left. This time he hadn’t. He had just left.

Just walked out of the door of the place you shared like it was ordinary morning. With the exception that he hadn’t kissed you good-bye like he usually did . . . and then nothing. You hadn’t see him. You hadn’t hear from him. He had just walked out. Without a single backwards glance. Like you meant nothing.

Tears burned your eyes. You tried to fight them. You weren’t going to cry  . . . you weren’t . . . you weren’t . . .

Something thumped onto the table, startling you. It was a coffee. And sliding into the booth across from you was Karen. She looked concerned.

“Hi Karen,” you said, trying to conjure a smile.

Her worried frown deepened. Apparently your efforts failed to pass muster. Seemed to be pattern.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’re trying not to cry.”

“Nothing,” you lied. “Everything is fine.”

“Lie,” Karen said.

“Is Matt contagious?” You asked. “Should I watch out for signs of ninja syndrome? Are you experiencing the sudden urge to jump out of random windows?”

Your attempt at humor fell as flat as your smile. Karen just looked at you, skeptism mixed with concern. “I don’t need Matt’s ninja skills to know you were lying. But while we were on the topic of Matt, he said you smelled like stress and like you had been crying yesterday.”

Thinking back on it, Matt had seemed more concerned than usual when he asked how you were doing . . . kept asking if you were sure that you were fine. If his recess hadn’t been ending, he probably would have pushed . . . 

You startled again when you were touched. Just Karen again, her hand resting ontop of yours. Her blue eyes full of sympathy and concern. “You know you can tell me. What’s wrong?”

Maybe it was the sympathy in her voice. Maybe it was the geniune worry. Maybe you just really needed someone to talk to. But soon, the whole story came spilling out. About how, about a week after you had gotten out of the hospital, Frank had been . . . different. Quieter, more distant. Obviously stressed about something. He had nightmares. Something had been bothering him but he refused to tell you. Not entirely unusual. Getting Frank to open up sometimes was like pulling teeth. From the mouth of a particularly angry tiger. So you hadn’t thought it worrying, thought that he would talk to you when he was ready. Just like he had before.

Only this time he didn’t. And then he left.

By the time you reached the end of your explanation, you had lost the battle with the tears. Karen had moved to sit next to you, so she could give you a hug. It was one-armed hug because of the booth but you’d take it.

“I’m so sorry,” Karen said, her voice a mixture of sympathy and anger. “I thought something was up with Frank. But I didn’t realize he was pulling this shit.”

“I just don’t understand,” you said. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “My best guess is that it has something with you getting shot. That really scared him.”

“I know,” you said. You remembered the look on his face just before you lost consciousness. The look when you woke up in the hospital. And when the doctor came in to explain just how lucky you were to you and your ‘husband.’ But he had been so attentive when you first got home . . . then it was like a switch had flipped. And all that warmth had disappeared.

“Did anything out of ordinary happen?”

“No,” you said. “The nightmares were bad just before he left but that’s happened before. And he didn’t take off. Might have slept on the couch until they settled down but he stayed.”

You shallowed. “Until now. Only other difference between then and now was that I told him I loved him.”

Karen smiled. It was a sad, little smile. “Finally told him? When?”

“The hospital,” you said. “He wanted to know what the hell I was thinking, pushing him out of the way like that. And I wasn’t . . . There was a gun pointing at the back of the man I love and I just . . . reacted.”

Karen made a thoughtful humming sound. “I’m guessing he didn’t say it back.”

“No,” you said. “Maybe because he doesn’t feel the same way.”

There it was. The truth that you had been trying to avoid. That Frank didn’t feel the same. Oh, he obviously cared about you. He liked you. Found you attractive. But none of that meant he loved you.

“Maybe,” Karen said but she didn’t sound convinced.

You felt a surge of rage. “The fucking coward could at least tell me to my face. Instead of just . . . ghosting me.”

“I agree,” Karen said. “It’s a shitty thing to do . . .”

Then she got that ‘eureka’ look on her face, like all of the puzzle pieces had just clicked together. “I think I know what’s going on. And how to get it fixed.”

“I don’t know if this can be fixed,” you said morosely, feeling very tired. That surge of anger had used up what was left of your energy.

“You’d rather he stay gone?”

“No,” you said. “I love him. I want to be with him forever. Guess he just doesn’t feel that way. I just wish . . . if he doesn’t want to be part of my life anymore, that he’d just say so. It will break my heart even more than it already is but at least I’d know. I deserve that much.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Karen said. “Now let’s get you back home. I’m going to fix this.”

You didn’t mean to doubt Karen. Normally you had every confidence in her brilliant mind and determination to achieve whatever she set out to accomplish. But you weren’t feeling particularly optimistic today.

She must have seen the skepticial look on your face. “Trust me. I’m an expert of getting stupidly stubborn men to remove their heads from their asses.”

***

You should have never doubted Karen. Because two days later, there he was. Standing by your front door with a bakery box in his hand. He at least had the grace to look sheepish and awkward.

“Frank,” you greeted, managing to keep your voice cool and even.

“Sweetheart,” he returned

“Am I?” you asked, a hint of your anger entering your voice. “Because you could have fucking fooled me.”

“You are,” he said, grimacing. “Through I can see why you’d think otherwise.”

He took a deep breath. “May I come in?”

At least he didn’t think he had the right to just waltz right in like nothing had happened. And while the angry, hurt parts of your heart want to shout no, go away before you hurt me again . . . the larger part of your heart, the part that loved Frank enough to take a bullet for him, won. “You may.”

You moved to unlock the door, drawing his attention to the grocery sacks in your hands. He scowled and said, “The docs said no lifting anything above a couple pounds.”

For some reason, this made your blood boil. You glared at him. “That I’m not supposed to pick up the milk jug right now didn’t seem to concern you when you fucking walked out without a goddamn word!”

He grimaced. “You can be pissed at me. You should be. But please, sweetheart, don’t hurt yourself. Let me carry the damn groceries.”

You wanted to argue. The angry, hurt part wanted to insist that you could carry them yourself. That you were fine on your own. That you didn’t help. Especially not from him. But good sense won out. Your injured shoulder was screaming at you, the dull ache growing into something sharp and throbbing over the course of the grocery run.

“Fine,” you said, allowing him to take the bags. You were given the bakery box in exchange. Holding it in your good hand, you let him into your apartment. He refused to let you put anything away, pointing out that even as individual pieces, some of it was still too heavy. You decided not to argue. The idea of raising your arm above your head right now made you want to cry.

Watching him move through your kitchen - the kitchen that you had hoped that he would one day think of as ‘ours’ instead of just ‘yours’ - made the tears prick at your eyes. But you refused to let them fall. Frank had gotten enough tears from you this week.

To distract yourself, you looked into the bakery box he had brought. Inside were two small cakes. One was a blackout cake and the other was chantilly cake with fresh raspberries. You felt your heart skip a beat. You had mentioned that you weren’t sure which cake you wanted for your birthday. You loved both so much. Made a joke about that as soon as you picked one, you’d get a craving for the other one.

An off-hand mention in a conversation from months ago. And he remembered. 

More tears pricked at your eyes, torn on what to feel. He remembered. But he had also abandoned you without a word . . .

“I’m sorry.”

You looked up from the cake, startled. “What?”

He was standing by your counter, his shoulders slumped. Regardless, when he realized that you were looking at him, he meet your eyes. You knew him well enough to see the regret, the remorse on his face. In those big brown eyes. “I’ve been an asshole. Leaving you without sayin’ anything - you’re right. That was the coward’s way and it was a rotten thing to do. You didn’t deserve that. I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” you asked. “Why did you do that? I thought we had a good thing going here.”

He took a deep breath. “Because I’m in love with you, and that scares me.”

You could have been knocked over by a feather. He loved you? Truly? “You love me?”

“Yeah,” he said, fidgeting with a can of peas. “Realized it when you were in the hospital.”

“And this scared you?” You said. “Why?”

“Because I almost lost you!” He shouted, his hand squeezing the can of peas. He took a deep breath, visibly regained control of himself. Put down the now-dented can. “You almost died, sweetheart. I felt your pulse getting weaker and weaker . . . You almost died.”

He swallowed thickly, then added, “You noticed the nightmares?”

“Yeah.”

“In my dreams, the ambulance didn’t make it in time. Or you died in surgery. I could see your body, cold and lifeless, along side . . . . Maria. Over and over again.”

He ducked his head. “You almost died. Because of me. Just sheer dumb luck that you didn’t . . .  like . . . my family. Baby, I can’t do that again. I can’t. I’m not that strong.”

He might be hiding his face but you could hear the tears in his voice. “I can’t lose you too. I can’t. There’s not enough left of my heart to survive that.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. No matter how angry you were, you couldn’t ignore his pain. You walked over and wrapped your good arm around his waist. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. This close, you could feel him shaking. The rapid pulse in his neck. He really was terrified. Truly terrified. “I’m not dead, Frank. I’m alive.”

“This time,” he muttered in your hair. “Next time-”

“There’s no next time. You wouldn’t lose me.”

“You can’t promise me that,” he said. “I wish to God that you could. But you can’t.”

He was right. You hated that he was right. “Then I’ll be more careful. We’ll both be more careful.”

This time, you shallowed hard. Fighting the lump that wanted to lodge in your throat, “Unless you’d rather not risk it. If you want to leave . . .”

It would break your heart in itty, bitty pieces but you’d let him go if you had to. You couldn’t make someone stay who did not want to stay. Not without destroying everything good between you.

His arms tightened.

“No,” he said, his voice thick. “I don’t want to leave you. I love you. I’m terrified. But I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you said. “I accept your apology.”

You more felt than heard the sigh of relief. “I’m still hurt. We’re going to have a very long talk about it. But I love you and I forgive you.”

“Got some groveling to do, don’t I?” You could hear the smile.

“Yes, you do. But that cake is a good start.”

He laughed. It was watery but genuine.

Things were by no means perfect. But as you said, it was a good start.

Author’s Notes

A blackout cake or Brooklyn Blackout cake is a layer chocolate cake filled with chocolate pudding, frosted in chocolate frost, and topped with chocolate cake crumbs.

A Chantilly cake is a layer cake filled with berries and chantilly cream (a type of sweetened whipped cream), frosted win the same cream and topped with fresh berries in a pretty pattern.  In this particular case raspberries but it can be any berries so feel free to imagine different berries.

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "You can sleep here tonight." 🐟✨

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You Can Sleep Here Tonight🪻

my baby.... i love van helsing SO MUCH!!!! this movie is honestly top 10 for me

Ship: Gabriel Van Helsing x f!Reader

Rating: 13+

Wordcount: 1.2k

Warnings: violence, use of acid, monsters, stabbing, blood, bit of flirting

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

Black quills soared over Gabriel's head as he barely dodged the onslaught. Barb after barb whistling through the air just past his left shoulder. A rough grunt coughed up his throat as he stood from the cobblestones.

He was met by the long arc of claws slashing at his chest. Arms with three, long talons hooked at the ends whirled at Gabriel. The hunter backed away on light feet. Snarls from his foe echoed around the brick alley Van Helsing had found himself in.

Lean muscles along his thigh stretched when he planted a strong kick to the chupacabra's abdomen. Its reptilian skin offered little to no rebound, its hide as thick as tanned leather. Large, black, soulless eyes reflected Gabriel's harrowed expression back at him. Three elongated teeth dripped slobber onto his boot.

A slash at Gabriel's foot made him pull away. He made a mental note to thoroughly scrub his boots later. The brick wall dug into the material of his coat as he backed up from the chupacabra. His mind raced with thousands of ways to advance this fight, to come out victorious.

The chupacabra crouching in preparation to charge dashed any swirling thoughts from Gabriel's mind. He watched, anticipation burning under his skin, as the creature readied itself to launch. One moment, two, then it leaped.

Gabriel rolled out of the path of the monster. Stones scraped along the leathers he'd adorned himself with. His head snapped up, long hair falling away from his face in strands of chestnut, as he watched the chupacabra. The creature collided with the bricks in a loud thud. Barely audible crunches crackling along the strong bones running through its body.

It fell to the ground in a heap of leathery skin and black quills. Van Helsing scrambled to his feet, gloved hands digging into his coat pockets. He backed a healthy distance away.

Finally. His fist produced a glass vial from one of his lapel pockets. Palm sized, glass clouded, filled with a viscous grey liquid. The cork plugged into the neck was primed to pop off with the slightest touch.

"Look out!" Gabriel heard you shout from the mouth of the alley. He looked up just in time to see the chupacabra reorient itself towards him, fangs dripping onto the stones. Its claws dug deep gouges into the ground as it galloped towards the hunter on all fours.

Van Helsing reared back, vial grasped in his large hand, before he flung it at the monster. The glass sailed through the air in a short arc, moonlight glinting off the projectile.

Glass shattered against the chupacabra's broad chest. The impact was immediately met with a sickening sizzle as the liquid burned into the creature's hide. Smoke poured from the rapidly growing hole in its thick skin. Yellow, stringy flesh emerged from beneath the leathery hide.

The monster howled as it collapsed to the ground. Ear-piercing shrieks and loud bellows shot from its toothy maw. Its clawed appendages thrashed around in agony.

"The stake! Now!" Gabriel exclaimed in your direction. Silver flashed as you scooped the stake off the ground, the metal rod clutched in your shaking hands.

He snatched it out of the air after you lobbed it in Gabriel's general direction. The hunter approached the monster, looming over the flailing beast like a jagged mountain over a desolate valley.

Flesh squelched when the stake was jabbed into the chupacabra's chest. One last shriek erupted from the creature's mouth, the silver finding its mark in the monster's heart, before it went deathly still. Its hide continued to hiss in the quiet, night air.

For the first time since the fight had started, Gabriel allowed himself to breathe. Acrid smoke rising from the chupacabra's body burrowed into his sinuses. He winced, standing from the creature's body and pulling his mask down before the smell got a foothold in the fabric.

"Th-Thank you," you stammered from across the alley. The hem of your dress was in tatters, thanks to the now dead creature at Van Helsing's feet, and a slash through the bodice left bits of your chest exposed. Trembling arms clutched at the torn fabric to keep it in place.

"Are you alright?" Gabriel asked, stepping around the carcass in your direction. His drying boots clipped along the cobblestones. He stopped short of where the alley ended and you stood, just beyond the entrance. Passing coaches and glowing streetlamps painted the world behind you in picturesque strokes.

"I'm fine, thanks to you. What was that thing?" you questioned. The tremor had abandoned your voice, leaving a strong timbre in its place. You peered over Gabriel's shoulder at the still-smoking body.

The hunter smirked, stepping back on his heel, "A chupacabra. Unfortunately common in these parts," he began. He pivoted to face the creature in question. He felt your stare as he walked back to his quarry, "Got reports of drained livestock and missing children in this area. So, the Church sent me to handle it. This was the last one in the nest I found a few days ago. Managed to slip away before I could kill it."

You watched with wide eyes as Van Helsing yanked the stake from the chupacabra's disintegrating body, "You do this often?"

"More often than I'd like," he replied easily. Liquid flesh sloughed off the silver when he shook the stake. Splashes of off-yellow covered the stones in a disgusting splotch of sizzling meat. The hunter remained unphased by the abhorrent display.

"What was in that vial you threw?" you asked, continuing your interrogation. Gabriel sighed as he stood, turning back around to face you.

"A mixture of boiled chupacabra quills and holy water. Only that combination is enough to burn away its thick hide. Then, one quick stab with some silver, and it's dead. Satisfied?" he explained with annoyance dripping from his tone.

You blew a sigh at a strand of hair covering your face, "I suppose I am, Mr.Monster-Hunter. You got a name?"

"Van Helsing," Gabriel answered. He tucked the stake back amongst the copious pockets lining the inside of his coat. The silver slid into place along three other stakes of similar size.

"Well, Van Helsing. Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?"

His hazel eyes widened as they met yours, "What?"

"Seeings as you just saved my life, I figure that I at least owe you a meal and a comfortable bed," you explained, shrugging.

"That's really not necessary," Gabriel said with a grunt, trying to brush past you. A push of your hand on his chest kept him in place.

"I owe you my life. Please, let me at least try to return the favor?" you pleaded. He couldn't help but feel entranced at your kind expression. Wide eyes glistening in the moonlight, plump lips beckoning him closer, soft hand pressed against the skin above his heart.

The hunter let a genuine smile tug at his lips. What harm could come from a meal? He hadn't eaten anything hot in several days. Just foraged roots and berries he'd managed to find as he tracked the chupacabras. He deserved a break, a reward for his service to the Church.

"Alright," he relented, voice barely louder than a murmur. A grin wisped across your face like a summer breeze.

"Perfect! Follow me, Mr.Van Helsing."

i want to kiss his silly face and tell him i love him

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