"why do you still bring up charlie kirk" because it's funny. his death is genuinely a running joke to me. you could say it's the greatest contribution he has made to society
During a high speed car chase pursuit, the FOX 11 Los Angeles helicopter had an unexpected moment when they spotted a rooster and a chicken casually walking down the sidewalk right in the middle of the pursuit.
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 6.2k [Series Masterlist] [Matt Fic Masterlist]
Warnings/Tags: 18+; sexual tension, light angst, pining, choking, and thigh riding the Devil
a/n: We're baaaaaaack and we're getting spicy! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
You tapped a finger against the screen of your phone and instantly recoiled along your pillow the second it lit up. Eyes narrowing to slits against the bright light, you struggled to read the time on the display. When you saw that it was just after two in the morning, your stomach sank. Youâd spent the past few hours tossing and turning in bed and were still nowhere near closer to drifting off than when youâd first crawled beneath the covers.Â
Irritated at the waste of time and frustrating loss of sleep, especially since you had work in the morning, you shoved your phone away from yourself along the nightstand in annoyance. With an exasperated huff, you grabbed the sheets and finally flung them off of yourself before sitting upright in bed. As a resigned breath passed from between your lips into the darkness, you turned and placed your feet along the floor. Maybe if you gave up on quieting your mind and gave into the odd craving you currently had for orange juice, you might have more luck falling asleep afterwards.
Padding barefoot out of your bedroom, you shuffled down the hall and towards your kitchen while rubbing a hand against your tired eyes. You wore nothing but an oversized shirt and a pair of panties beneath it since today had been an unseasonably warm day for mid-spring, making it far too warm to sleep dressed in multiple layers. Youâd wondered if it was the heat in your apartment causing you to struggle to fall asleep tonight, rolling back and forth in an attempt to get comfortable. Though you knew that if you were being honest with yourself, that wasnât really the reason.
Flipping on the lightswitch as you stepped into your kitchen, you squinted at the abrupt harsh light that flooded your apartment. Dragging your tired feet over the worn wood floor, you walked over to your fridge as thoughts of the Devil of Hellâs Kitchen began to flood your mind again.
You were certain your offer to become friends with benefits had been the cause of the sudden ending to your unexpected friendship with the Devil. Nearly three weeks had passed since that night youâd suggested the idea and you still hadnât seen him since. You continued filling the Devilâs Pantry for him every single night with snacks, bottles of water, and simple medical supplies, faithfully intending to keep him fed, hydrated, and safe. Yet every morning when you pulled the container back inside, it was clear that he hadnât stopped by your place. Nothing had been touched.Â
Itâd been over a month and you'd only had that single encounter with him, the one in which youâd opened your big mouth and permanently sent your favorite stray back out into the night. There was no mistaking what his absence meantâwhatever had been going on was over. Youâd gotten too close to him, pushed too hard for something heâd made clear that he wasnât going to give, and now he was gone. Your life had returned to being the same boring, monotonous thing that itâd always been, and you cursed the snowstorm which had brought the Devil into your world in the first place.
You grabbed the jug of orange juice out of your fridge and closed the door before turning and taking a few steps further into your small kitchen. Reaching your free hand up, you opened a cabinet and pulled out a black coffee mug, too tired to care about grabbing an actual glass. You set it down on the counter and untwisted the cap on the jug. Tipping the container over the cup, you filled it about halfway with orange liquid before screwing the lid back on.Â
After returning the orange juice back to the fridge, you picked up the ceramic cup and brought it to your lips, sipping at the sweet, tangy juice. Your aching, tired eyes slowly lowered shut as you leaned forward, resting your forearms along the kitchen counter and stretching your back. Your mind temporarily went blissfully blank amidst the quiet of your apartment and the relative calm of the city so early in the morning, but you were still left with that heaviness lingering in your chest.
This was your life again. Working Monday through Friday at a boring, thankless office job and staring at a computer screen all day every day. Coming home to change into comfortable clothes before making dinner and eating it while having no one to share the details of your day with. You spent your nights watching television shows and movies cuddling pillows on the couch before eventually crawling into your big bed only to fall asleep alone. Then you woke up to do it all over again. Sometimes on the weekends youâd meet up with friends for a bit, or go out to run errands, or curl up with a book on your couch, but otherwise your life was just a string of the same things repeating themselves over and over.Â
Youâd been content with the way things were until youâd met the Devil. Now everything seemed so bleak and mundane, and you'd come to realize exactly how lonely you'd been beneath all that routine. The thrill of getting an unexpected visit while you were cooking dinner or beginning to fall asleep on the couch always had you rushing to get home after work, trying to put yourself together just for the Devil. And whenever he did visit, you replayed that brief encounter over and over in your head until he slipped back through your window again another night.Â
You had inevitably fallen into like with the Devil. Not love, certainly not that. But feelings definitely placed themselves into the equation against any level of reason. Which was strange considering you technically didnât know much about him. Though you supposed that while you didnât know his name, his career, or what he looked like beneath the mask, you had gotten to know the deeper parts of him.Â
You knew the Devil had a big heart which encompassed the entirety of Hellâs Kitchen, and you knew that he was fearless and headstrong, still running out into the night to protect the city even with the possibility of multiple broken ribs. He was selfless to the point that he never properly took care of himself, and you were positive that he spent his nights with only the company of criminals. You knew he could throw himself off your fire escape and be just fine, and you knew beneath all that grit was a witty, charming man who made you laugh.Â
During his last visit, heâd made it clear that he didnât harbor any feelings for you and that all he felt was purely attraction. But at this point, youâd take whatever you could get if it meant he'd return to your fire escape. Youâd find a way to be content with only his battered body and a few random nights of pleasure if thatâs all heâd share with you, because there was no denying the intense attraction that drew you to him. He plagued your thoughts all day at work before haunting your dreams most nights.
You missed him.
With your eyes still closed, you continued sipping at the juice in your mug, still hunched over your kitchen counter. Running your other hand across your forehead, the tips of your fingers pressed firm circles into the space between your eyes. You really hoped the orange juice would somehow magically quiet your thoughts, otherwise youâd be miserably exhausted at work all day tomorrow from not getting any sleep.Â
âI donât know how many times I've said this, but you really should keep your window locked.â
Your entire body tensed at the deep, familiar voice suddenly behind you, your fingers pausing their circles against your forehead. The saliva in your mouth dried instantly, leaving your tongue parched and heavy where it sat. You were too afraid to open your eyes and turn to look behind you, not entirely certain if youâd reached a new low and begun hallucinating the Devil or if he was actually here after weeks of his continued painful absence.Â
A long, weighted silence engulfed your apartment as you stood half-slouched against the counter, so uncertain whether he was real that you were barely breathing. The longer the quiet stretched on, the more youâd started to convince yourself that you hadnât actually heard him, your mind beginning to play tricks on you. Until he spoke again and your fingers tightened around the handle of your mug.
âSuppose I deserve the lack of greeting,â he mused, his voice sounding closer now. âI havenât exactly checked in with you in awhile.â
Sucking a deep breath into your lungs and holding it, you opened your eyes and braced yourself. But as you stared at the dark tile backsplash on the wall in front of you, you werenât entirely certain what you were bracing yourself for. A fight? Him returning only to officially end the friendship? To turn around and realize you were hallucinating disembodied voices now? Or to brace yourself against the hope that you felt tickling its way through you because heâd returned, and that meant maybe you might not have scared him away as permanently as you'd believed.
âAngel?â he hesitantly called out. âYou're uncharacteristically silent tonight. Usually when I stop by you have plenty more to say.â
Exhaling the breath youâd been holding, you let go of the black ceramic mug and turned around to face him. But seeing him actually standing there merely three feet away had you stumbling backwards into the counter behind you. The Devil was not only really here, but he was standing so very, very close to you. You attempted to swallow the lump forming in the back of your throat, but your mouth was far too dry to accomplish the task.
Your eyes began roving over him in a rush as if you were taking stock of him, committing him to memory after the weeks thatâd gone by without him. His face was still mostly covered with that ridiculous black fabric which was always pulled down to just past the tip of his nose, leaving his beautiful full lips and that angular jaw covered in delicious dark stubble visible. You had forgotten exactly how tight his black shirts were, clinging to him in a way which further accentuated each of his muscles beneath the dark fabric. While you had never forgotten just how well he filled out those black pants from that time you'd pulled him out of them, you had forgotten the way they seemed to strain at the seams on the sides because of how thick his thighs were. Noticing that little detail again had your heart thundering in your own ears.Â
But besides all of that, he looked entirely fine. There was no sign of limping or bleeding, no reason as to why he mightâve disappeared for weeks. Not that you hadnât already heard him featured in multiple news stories in the days that'd passed since you'd last spoken with him. You knew he was still venturing out into the city at night, he just hadn't ventured to see you.
The Devilâs covered head tipped to the side, his lips curving downwards at the corners. You realized youâd just been standing there staring at him in your kitchen for a long, drawn out minute without having said anything yet. But instead of feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable, the question that had been scratching at your mind ever since that last time heâd flung himself over the railing of your fire escape flew off your tongue.
âYou disappeared for weeks. Why?â you demanded.
His lips pursed in response, a few of his fingers twitching at his sides inside of his black gloves. Another silence dragged itself out between you both, and you continued to grow increasingly aware of just how close he stood to you in the kitchen. Leaning further back against the counter behind you, feeling the edge of it press into your lower back, you tried to maintain your distance as if that would somehow help contain the tumultuous onslaught of emotions now coursing through you just from seeing him again.Â
âI thought it was for the best,â he finally answered. âI was afraid you might be getting attached, and I canât exactly have attachments. Not doing all of this.â He raised a gloved hand, gesturing it at his chest and implying his nightly vigilante activities. âIâm not the guy you should be interested in, angel. So I thought it would be better if I stopped intruding on your evenings and gave you space, butâ.â
âIt wasnât better,â you shot back, cutting him off.Â
The words had come out a bit harsher than you'd intended, so you paused, pressing your lips firmly together while you took a second to rein in your emotions. Telling him off would probably just send him back out onto your fire escape, and that was the opposite of what you wanted.
âI thought weâd become friends after all those times I helped you,â you tried again, managing to keep your tone even. âI thought you would have at least given me some sort of an actual goodbye instead of just ghosting me if you werenât planning to come back.â
The corner of his lip twitched, guiltily tugging to the side. âYou're right, we did become friends over these past few months,â he agreed softly. âAnd Iâm sorry for my absence. I shouldnât have just disappeared on you like that, but I wasn't necessarily intending to never come back.â
It wasnât much of an apology, especially considering this wasn't the first time he'd disappeared on you after your strange friendship had begun, yet you couldnât deny the way the frustration and hurt began to ease its way out of you. He was acknowledging his actions at least, and maybe he was truly sorry. He certainly sounded like it. While it still upset you that heâd just ignored you for weeks, not even leaving you a note or stopping by to take something from the Devilâs Pantry which you dutifully set outside solely for him every single night, you couldnât deny how elated you were that heâd simply returned to you.
But that begged the question as to why he was here tonight.
âSo what brought you back then?â you asked, brows furrowing together. âI thought what I said last time freaked you out after you stopped visiting. It's been weeks since I've seen you, why show up now?â
The Devil took a half step closer to you, shrinking the already small distance between you both, and your reaction was immediate. Your pulse sped up, your heart thudding like a drum inside your chest as he drew even closer. The remaining space between your bodies grew thick and heated as something settled in it, something that had your stomach dipping anxiously as if youâd just jumped over the railing of your fire escape yourself.Â
The Devil's heavy boots came to an abrupt halt along the floor, his lips twisting into a grimace as his hands curled into fists at his sides. You wondered what that was about, curious to know if he could somehow feel that same tension in the air that you did.
âI came because of what you said last time,â he admitted, sounding oddly pained. âI've beenâŠwanting to know if you really meant it.â
Your heart gave a sharp, unexpected jolt as if it could somehow fling itself from your chest at him, so you grabbed onto the counter behind you to steady yourself. Had he really just spent all this time thinking about your offer of sleeping together? Conflicted over it for weeks instead of being completely put off by the idea? Was that why he'd disappeared for so long? Because heâd actually been considering making that sort of arrangement with you?
âYou mean about being friends who are sometimes more than that?â you hesitantly clarified.
âYes,â the Devil answered.Â
He took another half-step closer to you, and you swore every nerve-ending in your body sparked to life. His tongue slipped out between his lips, making you acutely aware of how you were currently dressed right nowâin just the oversized shirt and panties. Panties which were quite honestly growing a bit damp with the way you could feel him staring at you beneath that mask.
âDo you truly think that's something you could do?â he questioned huskily. âThe physical without anything more than friendship? Especially with someone you know so little about?â
âI told you I already know enough about you,â you replied. Youâd caught the breathlessness of your own voice, his proximity having a strong effect on you considering the topic of conversation. âI know enough about your character even without your name. I imagine you could say the same about me.â
He shook his masked head from side to side slowly, taking another step closer as he did. There was less than a foot of space left between your bodies now, and you could smell the sweat and the city on him. Your hands curled tighter around the kitchen counter behind you, nails digging into the stone as you leaned against it, fighting the growing lightheadedness as your breaths came in sharper.
âThat wasnât what I asked,â the Devil pointed out. âI asked if you could do the physical and only accept my friendship in return.â
It was impossible not to stare at his lips with him standing as close as he was, your eyes drawn to them when he'd spoken, watching the way they formed each word. Your breathing was coming in short and embarrassingly ragged, and you were certain he could hear the way itâd changed.
Something about the Devil had you constantly wanting more from him. More nighttime visits, more conversations, more touches with or without the gloves, more personal facts accidentally slipping out of his beautiful mouth. You wanted more than friendship because you'd certainly gone and developed feelings for him, but that wasn't what he was offering.Â
If it was a choice between friends who fucked or nothing at all, you knew the answer. You'd shove down every scrap of feelings you felt for him if it meant he kept climbing through your window at night. And if you got to have just a fraction more of him in the process, you were willing to deal with the emotional fallout later. Maybe all it was between you two was sexual attraction in the end, just like he'd said before.
âYes,â you told him. âI can handle it.â
Which was true, because you knew that was the only way you'd ever keep the Devil. And right now, youâd have agreed to anything to make that happen.
His head tipped to the side as he fell into quiet contemplation, apparently mulling over your response. You remembered once that heâd mentioned he could tell when people were lying, and you wondered if he was somehow using that ability on you now, however the hell it worked.
While he stood silent, your eyes dropped to the line of his jaw. It was even more exposed beneath the overhead light in your kitchen with the way heâd tipped his head to the side, and you desperately wanted to run your tongue along the length of it. You wanted to taste his skin, to feel the sharp rasp of his stubble, and to hear what sounds he might make. You wanted to twist your fingers into the little brown hairs that peeked out beneath the back of his mask and kiss him until you couldn't breathe.
Having grown so absorbed in the fantasy playing out in your head, your stupid mind only making you more aroused than you already were seconds ago, you were taken by surprise when the Devil abruptly moved. A startled gasp slipped out of you the moment he lunged forward, his rough gloves grabbing onto either side of your face. He closed the remaining distance without warning, and his impossibly soft and warm lips crashed onto yours before your brain had a second to comprehend what was happening.Â
It took you a moment to register that he was kissing you, that after months of fantasizing about this exact scenario, the Devil was finally kissing you. Your hands released the counter and grabbed onto the thin fabric of his shirt along his chest, your fingers twisting into the dark material. Moving your lips against his, you kissed him back with the hungry determination youâd been holding back for months. Every part of you became hyper-aware of the Devil, because for once you were touching him and it wasn't with the sole intention of helping him.Â
You could feel the hard planes of muscle beneath your palms, the muscle youâd known was there because you'd seen it before, but now you didn't have to hide how incredibly attracted youâd always been to him. So when he took another step forward and pressed himself against you, trapping you between him and the counter, all of the blood in your veins rushed to a singular point between your thighs. His solid chest brushed against your peaked nipples poking through the thin cotton of your shirt, and you audibly moaned at the sensation. Seizing the opportunity, the Devilâs tongue slid right into your mouth, his gloved hands still firmly holding your face steady in his grip.Â
With each sensual lap of his tongue against yours, you could feel a bulge straining against the front of his pants. Fingers still tangled in the fabric of his shirt, you reacted without thinking as his erection pushed into your thigh. Your hips bucked forward against his, desperate for more contactâfor more of him. But instead he abruptly broke away from your lips with a long, deep groan of pleasure as if somehow it was all too much, and you swore the sound lit your body on fire.Â
You stared at his kiss swollen lips beneath the harsh lighting of your kitchen, your breath coming in ragged, harsh bursts. Not quite ready to have ended such a heated moment, you inched forward towards him, eager to continue what had been easily the hottest kiss of your life, but you were stopped as the Devilâs hands fell away from your face and he took a partial step backwards.
âWait,â he hoarsely ordered. His own chest rapidly rose and fell as if he was struggling to catch his breath, one of his hands raising in the space between you. âWe shouldâshould discuss things first. Boundaries.â
Still utterly breathless from the kiss, the air rushed in and out between your parted lips. You felt as disheveled and undone as the Devil currently looked, his shirt rumpled and his cheeks flushed. Your panties were noticeably wet, something that was impossible to ignore now. So was the throbbing between your legs that was beating in sync with your pulse.Â
He huffed out a breathy laugh while nodding his head. But as the grin lingered on his lips, you caught the hard swallow with the bob of his throat before he turned, moving with barely a sound in his heavy boots as he navigated through your kitchen and headed straight towards your couch. Disappointment crept through you, his retreat the equivalent of someone spraying you with a garden hose. Talking was the last thing you were in the mood for after that frenzied kiss you'd both just shared, but you followed after him anyway. Somewhere in your lust-filled mind you knew he had a point, there were details to discuss if this were to work.Â
âBoundaries,â you repeated. âThatâthat makes sense. If weâre, you know, doing this.â
âIf we are doing this,â the Devil began, voice still tight as he settled onto the couch, âthen I need to set some rules.â
âRules, right,â you agreed breathlessly, making your way through your kitchen. The abrupt switch from wanting to tear through his clothes with your nails to needing to discuss boundaries for this ârelationshipâ had your head spinning. âI can do rules.â
âEven if that means my mask can never come off?â the Devil questioned.
âMaybe Iâll develop a mask kink,â you teased back, bare feet padding towards him. âOr maybe I already have one.â
As you stepped around the side of the couch, about to make your way to sit down beside him, you were caught off guard when he leaned forward. His hand shot out and latched onto your wrist, gently yet firmly tugging you towards him. You stumbled forward a step, letting him guide you down onto what you assumed would be his lap, but instead he settled you down to straddle one of his thighs.Â
You became exceedingly aware of the length of thick muscle along the top of it, the thin layer of your damp panties not creating much of a barrier between your aching cunt and that heavenly muscle. Your traitorous pussy clenched around nothing as you sat there, silently begging for you both to shut up already and give into the desire burning through you. As if the Devil could feel your impatience, his hands roughly landed on your hips as a throaty hum rumbled in his chest, the sound vibrating through your entire body before heading straight to your cunt.
âYou know I canât ever give you my name, either,â he continued in a lower, huskier tone. âI need to remain anonymous.â
Placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, you felt his gloved fingers digging into the flesh of your hips through your shirt. He nudged you slightly forward along his thigh, dragging your cunt over him just enough. The sweet, delicious friction that resulted elicited the softest whine from your lips and you visibly quivered. The Devilâs grip tightened even further on your hips, his nostrils flaring sharply beneath his mask.
âWe donâtâdont need names,â you whispered.
Another low, pleased noise vibrated deep in the back of his throat. He tipped his head back against the back of your couch, staring up at you from beneath the mask as one of his hands released your hip, gliding up the top of your thigh before disappearing beneath your shirt. The coarse material of his glove dragging its way tantalizingly slowly over your ribs caused the muscles in your stomach to twitch.Â
âThis can only ever be sex,â he stated.
Your eyelids fluttered as his hand continued moving further upwards, teasing you with its unhurried pace until it inevitably came to palm your breast. He cupped the weight of it in his hand, the corner of his lips curving upwards as you involuntarily shifted along his leg. The hand on your hip urged you to move against him again, causing sparks of heat to dance under your skin as he encouraged you to grind along his exceptionally solid thigh.
âI have a feeling tending injuries andâand feeding you might also be involved in this arrangement,â you murmured, half-distracted from the conversation by pleasure.Â
The softest chuckle tumbled past his lips as he looked up at you, a cocky smirk playing along them. âThen I suppose you should get your fair share out of this arrangement too, angel.â
His voice was a low purr that had your eyelids falling shut and your nails digging into his shoulders. Your body started moving in a rhythm all on its own, your hips rocking back and forth along his thigh as the hem of your shirt rode higher up your legs with the movement. The ridge of his thick quad was perfectly slotted between your thighs, allowing you to grind yourself along him at the exact angle that already had your stomach knotting up in pleasure.Â
Everything else melted away as you straddled his thigh chasing after something to soothe the ache you felt for him between your own. It no longer mattered that heâd been gone for weeks, or how hurt youâd been over his silence, or that it was incredibly late and you were absolutely exhausted and needed to sleep. Youâd never felt so good before and you werenât even fucking him yet. Because there was something there between you both, something that made your pulse pound and your brain go hazy, something that youâd never experienced before.
âIs this what you think about when I'm not around?â he asked.
As your eyes gradually fluttered back open, you were met with the view of the Devil still casually watching you. His lips were parted as his hand beneath your shirt continued kneading your breast. Beneath the black mask, his cheeks were still somewhat flushed, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders beneath your palms, as if all that dangerous power was being held back while he let you ride his thigh.
âYes,â you breathed out. âThis andâŠother thingsâŠâ
Releasing your grip on his shoulder, you dragged your nails softly down his chest, letting them skip over his belt buckle. But the second you palmed the tented fabric of his pants, the Devilâs teeth clamped together and a sharp hiss of air passed through them as he arched against the couch. Your tongue slid out, wetting your lips in delight at his reaction to simply being touched. You wanted more of it, so your hand inched upwards towards his belt buckle with every intention of freeing him from the confines of his pants so that you could take care of him.
But when his hand left your hip to abruptly grasp your neck, you froze in place beneath his grip. Your hips stuttered to a stop along his thigh as your hand lingered on his belt buckle, wondering if somehow undressing him was crossing one of his boundaries. While he wasnât gripping you hard enough to choke, he'd certainly grabbed you with enough pressure to feel his gloved hand pressing against your windpipe.Â
The Devil gave a single shake of his head. âNo. Not tonight,â he said. âOnly this.â
There was something laced in those few words that felt like a warning. Apparently sex wasnât on the table tonight, and while you were moderately disappointed that youâd have to wait even longer for that, you could hardly remain disappointed when his hand beneath your shirt pinched your nipple, rolling it between his fingers.
âKeep going,â he ordered. âYouâre not finished until you come on my thigh, angel.â
You needed no further encouragement, your body once more resuming its motion along his leg. His hand remained wrapped around your throat though. The pressure was not enough to restrict your airflow, but it caused little white spots to appear in the corner of your vision.Â
Being choked by the Devil of Hellâs Kitchen had a thrill tingling its way up your spine. How many men had been strangled by these exact hands? And now here he was holding himself back with you. He could squeeze just a little more, press his fingers into the delicate skin of your neck hard enough to block your breath until you passed out like heâd no doubt done countless times with so many others, but you trusted him completely. Because you knew the Devil wouldnât cross that line with you.
And the thought of that had you panting and whimpering on him in a matter of minutes, your slick panties leaving wet stains along the top of his dark pants. You could feel yourself inching closer to a release, your stomach tightening with each roll of your hips as you rutted against him like a pathetic, single-minded animal.Â
âThatâs it, angel,â he husked. âYouâre turning into such a mess for me.â
With one hand braced against his shoulder, nails digging into him so firmly that you were surprised you hadnât torn his shirt, your other hand was curled over the top of his pants, palm flat against his belt buckle that he'd stopped you from undoing. Your thighs were trembling around his as pleasure surged its way through your body like a wave cresting against the shore, and you ground against him until finally reaching your breaking point.Â
Your head tipped back over your shoulders, your eyes clamping shut as a low moan barreled straight out of your mouth, the sound vibrating against his palm. His fingers tightened around your neck as you came on his thigh, your entire body quaking with pleasure. You thought you heard a throaty groan rumble out of him, but your brain was too muddied to know for certain.
Shuddering against him, your hips eventually slowed to a stop, your panties significantly damper than earlier. You were breathing hard, your heart pounding in your chest like a battering ram. Eventually the Devil released your neck from his hold, his hand finding its way back to your hip to steady you on his leg as his other reluctantly ceased toying with your nipple beneath your shirt. Still loudly gasping for air, your head rolled forward and your gaze landed back on him, catching the rather smug smile beneath the hard line of his mask.
âWhatâsâwhatâs that look for?â you breathed out.
âYou have absolutely no idea how beautiful you sound to me, angel,â he murmured.
His hand lightly patted your hip, the smug smile remaining drawn across his lips. Your brows dipped together in confusion as you stared down at him, heat creeping its way up your neck. Was he talking about the sounds youâd just been making when youâd come? Youâd never been complimented on that before. What another odd thing for him to say. But you were far too tired now to question much about his strangeness as your body began to slump forward against his.
âThink I should get you to bed,â the Devil teased. âSeems like youâre up well past your bedtime, angel. I donât think my visit helped with your energy levels.â
âMmm,â you hummed back, leaning forward towards him and wrapping your arms loosely around his neck. âOn the contrary, Devil, I think your visit helped tire me out so that I can finally fall asleep.â
Simply because you couldâand because once wasnât enough tonightâyou leaned in the rest of the way and pressed a kiss to his lips. He returned it, though this time it wasnât as heated as when heâd cornered you in your kitchen. This kiss was softer and slower, with something almost sweet and hesitant about it. When you pulled back, you smiled down at where you thought his eyes were hidden beneath his mask.
âYou sure youâre good tonight?â you asked. âSo far this arrangement seems a bit uneven.â
His lips quirked into a mischievous grin, and you fought the urge to lean back down and keep kissing him. That was going to be difficult to stop doing now that youâd been allowed to start.
âIâll collect what I want next time,â he promised you. âBut you sound far too exhausted and Iâm sure you have work in the morning, so I think this is where I see myself out and let you get to bed.â
Reluctantly disentangling yourself from his thigh, you maneuvered yourself off his lap and stood back onto your feet, readjusting the oversized shirt that had ridden up. The Devil pushed himself up from the couch after you, and while you werenât certain in the dim lighting that reached the living room from your kitchen, you thought you saw a damp patch not just on his thigh but also near his zipper. Maybe the Devil had enjoyed himself more than youâd realized.
âSo is this how itâs going to be now?â you asked curiously, watching him readjust his pants as he headed towards your window. âWe fuck and then you disappear from the fifth floor?â
The Devil slid open your window before he paused, his masked face turning over his shoulder towards you. âTehcnically we havenât done that yet,â he pointed out. âBut sometimes I suppose thatâll be the case. Iâm usually on the go. Things are always happening in the city. And since this isnât anything more than just two friends whoâre attracted to each other, we shouldnât make it anymore complicated than that.â
âRight,â you agreed, nodding your head. âJustâŠtwo friends who want to fuck each other. Really badly.â
His grin grew wider before he tipped his head at you. âGoodnight, angel.â
Before you could say more than a goodnight in return, he turned and slipped out onto your fire escape through the open window. He closed it after himself before walking over to the railing, grabbing it in both of his hands and then gracefully flinging himself over it just like heâd done so many times before.
âI can definitely do uncomplicated,â you told yourself, staring at the place heâd just been standing outside, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. âThat absolutely will not be a problem.â
FANTASTIC UPDATE BELLA! Absolutely 1000% worth the wait!
Iâm so happy theyâre starting to hook uppppp bc I have a feeling Mr falls for everyone will absolutely do great with this arrangement. Will not catch feelings at all *cough cough*
The upside to the adhd forgetting that you made yourself a drink thing is thinking to yourself âman I could go for a drink right nowâ and looking to your right and seeing a drink has appeared there. Thank you, past me. I lost you somewhere but you have still provided.
titsay
germansingergirl
snowghoul
discoholicmusic
baratheonpilled
gummygunk
romaincrisis
