Hi and welcome to my little space. Pretty much all content on here will be 18+ so no minors.
My askbox is open so please feel free to send in asks about anything and everything. Thots, questions, requests, random stuff or just to say hi, it is all very much appreciated.
ao3 - idrinkcoffeeandobsess
●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●●～●
Matt Murdock:
Beg For Me - 3 part plotless smut and my first ever Matt fic. Lots of praise, some mild dom!Matt and sub!reader, a bit of everything really.
Closer - Short, soft, fluffy smut.
Glory Be - Religious kink fic. Matt finds a very different use for his rosary beads.
On Your Lips - Poem inspired by Matt & Elektra.
Sanguine - Short angsty & kinda poetic vampire!Matt AU.
Billy Russo x reader x Matt Murdock x Frank Castle
Summary: A night out with the boys turned into something you never expected.
Notes: I was asked by a lovely anon to make a fic with Frank and Matt. Bonus if I could throw in Billy. Well, ask and you shall receive. It's the first time I've tried writing a foursome. A lot of poles, holes and peeps to keep track off. Hope i succeeded.
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Warnings: Oh, where do i begin? SMUT! 18+. Exhibitionism/voyerism, fingering (f receiving, both vaginal and anal), handjobs, grinding, unprotected sex (vaginal and anal. Remember lube and wrap up irl, folks), double penetration, gay/bi sex. This is a lot, y'all.
Words: 1.5 K
It was one of those evenings that you never want to end. Scattered across the table is empty beer and wine bottles, another few half drunk. Frank is sitting in the armchair in Matt’s apartment, Matt casually situated on his lap and peppering Frank's neck with soft kisses as you and Billy were sitting on the couch. It had started as a few friends having dinner, now turned into you all being very tipsy as the evening slowly turns into night.
As the night progressed, you found it harder and harder to keep your eyes of Frank and Matt, their touches growing bolder. The conversation had been rather normal, considering the lives you all lived, although a bit slurred by the amount of alcohol. For a brief moment, you wonder if you’ve ever seen the guys this intoxicated before or if Billy has even noticed the show unfolding right across from the two of you.
You are not even sure Frank and Matt are aware of what they are doing. First it was just soft touches, then kisses peppered onto each other's skin, which was enough to catch your attention. But the more they drank, the bolder they became. They seem like they don’t know what their actions are doing to you.
You can't tear your eyes away as Frank sucks gently on Matt’s neck, the look of pleasure on Matt’s face as Frank gives him yet another love bite. The alcohol seemed to make Matt lose his inhibitions, the blush on his cheeks only caused by the wine and not by the position he’s in.
You suddenly feel Billy shift beside you. Glancing down, you can’t help but notice bulge in his pants. He does nothing to hide it, his eyes fixed on Frank and Matt. You would lie if you said you’d never thought of Billy in a sexual way, but now as you glance between his legs, all you can think about is how he was like in bed.
You try to dismiss the thoughts as a mere result of too many beers, but you know it’s a lie. Eyes again on Frank and Matt, unable to tear your gaze away from Frank’s fingers. Slowly the fingers run up Matt’s thigh, just barely touching his bulge before sliding back down. A pattern he repeats and each time Frank’s fingers graze Matt’s bulge, he bites his lip.
The odd thing is how casual the men are. Just sitting there with the conversation still flowing lightly as if all three of them aren’t hard.
Without even realizing it, you had moved your hand to Billy’s thigh. When did you move it? Whether you’re affected by the show before you, the wine or simply just the intoxicating scent of Billy, you don’t know, but you slide your hand up higher. Billy seems to lean into your touch, his breathing now strained.
At this point you’re so turned on you need a release for the ache between your legs. You let your hand wander from Billy’s thigh down between his legs, cupping his cock through the denim. He responds with a sharp intake, his eyes begging you not to stop.
Unable to hold back any longer, Billy leans forward and claim your lips in a kiss. Soft at first, but soon turns heated as his tongue slip into your mouth.
You melt into the kiss, letting your eyes gaze at Frank and Matt one more time before closing your eyes. They were lost in each other, all conversation now forgotten. Consumes by lust, Billy pulls you onto his lap, kissing you more passionately by the minute. You moan softly when Billy’s hands start roaming your body, cupping your breasts. His thumb rubs gently circles on your sensitive buds, making you shiver.
As Billy’s mouth moves to your neck, sucking at your sensitive skin, your eyes wander to Frank and Matt. While you were lost in Billy’s touch, Matt moved on top of Frank, both of them naked from the waist up. Matt’s soft moans fills the air as his hips roll against Frank, a soft ‘fuck Red’ spoken in passion.
Between kisses, Billy pulls your t-shirt over your head, exposing your soft skin to him. When his mouth latch onto your nipple, his name falls from your lips in a soft whisper.
One hand slide between your bodies, making your shiver as his fingers touch you right where you need him the most, your panties already damp. Your soft moans now attract the attention from Frank and Matt, both of them stopping and looking at you two now.
Frank quickly opens Matt’s pants and his own, releasing both their cocks. Holding them both in his big hand, they watch you and Billy as he pumps them slowly. They look as Billy’s fingers hike up your skirt, pulling your panties to the side and make you gasp, when his fingers find your aching clit.
Frank and Matt can’t tear their eyes of you, seeing the way your back arch when Billy pushes his fingers inside you, his mouth capturing your nipple again. No inhibitions left, you let out a big moan, letting them all know how good Billy makes you feel.
Frank let’s go of Matt as he slips from Franks lap. Matt kneels, pulling Franks pants all the way off, before removing his own. With their eyes glued to you and Billy, their kisses turn heated as they stroke each other, enjoying the show.
Your hand finds its way into Billys pants, palming his hard cock. Pulling your hand out, you unzip his pants, allowing you to better stroke him. Billy groans when your hands wrap around his length, his own hands going down to his waistband, pulling his pants further down.
You pull your skirt up higher, exposing your ass to Frank and Matt as you lift yourself up before slowly lowering yourself onto Billy’s hard cock.
Matt looks at Frank, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. Frank just gives a soft smirk, disappearing for a second, only to return with some lube.
Your eyes spring open when you feel a finger softly rubbing your other entrance. Looking over your shoulder, you see Matt smile back at you as his finger tease your opening. Frank is kissing Matt’s neck, looking into your eyes. They give you the opportunity to say no. But you don’t. You had never had an experience like this and who knew if it would ever happen again? So you urge Matt on with a soft moan, begging him not to stop.
His finger slips in, causing you to whimper at the new sensation. His finger slowly works you open as you ride Billy’s cock, feeling an ecstasy you’ve never felt before.
Matt adds another finger as Frank wraps his hand around Matt’s cock, pumping it as Matt gets you ready. Frank is rock hard against Matt’s ass, the tip leaking at the sight before him.
As Matt slips his fingers from your ass, he feels Frank’s fingers at his own, groaning as he places the tip of his cock against your tight entrance. Gently, he pushes into you, marveling in the feeling of Billy’s cock, only your thin walls separating them.
You whimper at the sensation of two cocks filling you, both of them pushing you closer to the edge. Frank, not wanting to be left out, pushes Matt’s legs apart, watching as both Matt and Billy’s cocks thrust into you.
Frank push into Matt, inch by inch, feeling how Matt clench around him. He wasn’t gonna last long, the sight and noises from the others already threatening to push him over the edge. Frank stills, just for a moment, to join in the pace with the rest of you and then start thrusting into Matt.
Slowly, as you all find the rhythm, the pace quickens, bringing you all closer to a much-needed release. One by one you come. First Billy, filling you to the brim with his cum as he gazes deeply into your eyes. The feeling of Billy falling apart for you, makes you come with a soft moan, his name falling from your lips.
When you come, you clench around Matt’s cock, the sensation triggering Matt to come hard and that in turn makes Frank come, the sound of Matt’s ecstasy too much for him.
The air is filled with soft pants as you all come down from your highs, none of you moving as your bodies still shiver in the aftershocks of your shared pleasure.
Slowly, you start to detach from each other, all of the men very soft with you, making sure you’re okay. The atmosphere in the room is a bit awkward, none of you looking the others in the eyes. That’s until Billy chuckles, breaking the tension with a simple question.
“Same time next week?”
You all smile, not sure if you’ll ever do it again, but... never say never.
Authors note: I have been through the emotional ringer lately and after listening to a Hozier song today, I just felt I needed to put this down on paper.
Sometimes life is hard, but it's important not to lose hope.
Thank you to @e-dubbc11 for ensuring me that the first thing I've written in almost two months aren't shit. Love you hun ❤️
Warnings: Angsty, bad self image, a hopeless romantic feeling anything but love, hopeful endings, a smidge of fluff.
Words: 1.1K
I never really thought I was worth anything and so far, life hasn’t really showed me anything to prove me wrong. This is not a sob story where I go into detail about how my parents didn’t have time for me or how I didn’t have any friends growing up. I won’t force you to sit through pages upon pages of me telling you about my countless wrecked relationships, how I’ve been ghosted more than a haunted house or about all the times I’ve thought to myself ‘This is it. I’ve found it.’, just to be proven wrong again. To once again have my heart shattered.
I know deep down that the problem might be me. I mean, all these things do have me in common. Maybe I’m just not worth it? Maybe I should just move to a cabin in the woods, get a bunch of dogs and live happily ever after as an author, alone and content… Given that my books could even sell, that is…
You see, my problem is that I’ve always believed in true love. Happily ever after. That one day I’d look into the eyes of another and find the missing piece of my soul and finally feel like I belong somewhere for the first time in my life. But I’m starting to believe that true love only exists in fairytales and that it’s never going to happen to me. I remain hopeful, but I wouldn’t bet any money on me finding my one true love.
You know that one person you’d want to look at every night before you go to sleep and can’t wait to see again in the morning as the sun shines through the blinds, falling perfectly on their face. Don’t we all want that all-consuming ‘can’t live without each other’ love? I certainly do and I remain hopeful… Or I try to.
Cause what is life without hope? Would it even be worth getting up in the morning? I go to bed some nights not sure if I even want to wake up the next day, but I still wake each morning, lying to myself that it will get better. That today might be the day that everything changes.
Okay, before I start sounding like I’m a depressed little person, I would want to say you’ve caught me at a bad time. Just got ditched again after thinking he was the right guy. I had already started mentally moving into a little cottage where we could grow old together, but alas… I was again proven that some men are just dicks or that I’m the problem… And I really don’t want to think about the last one.
So yes. Right now, I could curse every single man to hell, but who am I kidding? Give me 5 minutes and I will look into the eyes of a new stranger and fall a little again. As Hozier sings ‘I fall in love just a little bit every day with someone new’, cause I’m weird like that. I always see the best in people, and I always imagine how they might be like, what kind of music they might listen and if they are a cat or dog person.
This is my fault, I’m sure. If I really have to think about it. I fall too easily. So I’ll try to stop. This time I’ve promised myself I will not even look at another guy again. I’m better of alone.
---
So… It only lasted two days. I actually did manage to not even respond to that random dude who sled into the dm’s on my social media or the flirty guy at the counter as I hand him his coffee. I remained strong until he came in.
He’d been coming into the coffee shop for two months now, always the same solemn expression on his face. He’s always lost in thought, like there’s a million things going on in his mind. Whenever he comes in, I want to ask him what he’s thinking. What have caused him to have those haunted eyes so full of unspoken emotions. But I never do.
Today his pattern changes. He comes in, gives me that slight smile as he places his order and waits patiently for it go get done, but instead of going, he sits down in the corner. He’s always so quick to leave again, like he doesn’t want anyone to see him, yet today he sits there by the window, looking out.
He looks lost somehow, like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. Like life hasn’t exactly treated him kindly either. He looks… almost like me. I know I should leave him alone, but I wonder if a small act of kindness from a stranger could lift that veil of sadness. If maybe I could make him smile. I bet he has a beautiful smile.
Damn. I’m doing it again. I should have learned by now not to fall so easily. Cursing under my breath, I try to work and not look at him, which proves hard. He is just so beautiful. Those expressive hazel eyes, his plump lips encircled by that full beard and the tattoos on his arms. And he probably has a nice body under that shirt, considering how it clings to- No… I got to stop this. This is the kind of thinking that always gets me in trouble.
As he gets up from his seat, I already start looking forward to the next time he comes in. Maybe he’ll stay again the next time? Maybe even stay a little longer, so I could conjure up some courage to talk to him? But to my surprise, he doesn’t walk to the door, but comes back to the counter.
“I-” He starts but stops again. His eyes find mine and I feel my heart skip a beat, like it always does when he looks at me. “I’ve been trying to get the courage to ask you out for over a month now.”
The small smile grows into a nervous one, but all I can think is what this man has to be nervous about. Surely, he must know I’d say yes in a heartbeat. Which was almost exactly what I blurt out. Thankfully it makes him smile wider and I was right. A very beautiful smile indeed. ´
“Fine, then. Tomorrow at 8.” He says with a smile and for the first time, it reaches his eyes. The small wrinkles and the shine in his hazel orbs make it impossible not to smile too.
“Tomorrow.” I confirm with a giggle, barely able to speak without stumbling over my words. On his way out he turns to me, giving me a little wave with the smile still adorning his beautiful face. Once he is out the door, it takes several minutes before my breathing is back to normal and my heart is done making backflips.
I have a date. A date with Michael. And in that moment, I don’t even care if he turns out like the others and leaves me broken. But something tells me he isn’t like the others. That this time it will be different, because… We have to keep hoping, right?
Summary: Matthias is starting to feel a bit more protective over you. Only problem is your not his. Yet.
Warnings: yearning, so much yearning, kissing, breeding kink, maybe seems a little dub-con but is actually isn't, actual breeding (with unprotectedsex and creampies, of course), Matthias is a bit possessive, fluff.
Notes: This is my contribution for week 3 of the Moon in May writing challenge. I chose the word scent.
Also thank you to @albatrossandivys for the beta read and reassuring me this was good, when I was having an off day 🩷
Words: 1.2 K
Matthias never really had any issues with being a bear until he met you. He had always shifted when he felt the need, roaming the woods until the itch wore off and then returned to his human skin before getting back to the village.
Never really been territorial or felt the urge to fight other males. Not even feeling the need to claim a mate or assert his dominance. None of it mattered before. But now, there was you.
Nothing could have prepared Matthias for the uncontrollable urges you made him feel. The need to have you covered in his scent so everyone else would know you were his. Wanting to hold you close in his arms at night. Only problem was that you weren’t his.
You weren’t taken, but your father had made it known that no man in this village was good enough for you and certainly not any Fjerdan. But that didn’t keep him from talking to you any chance he got. And lately, things have changed. He felt the need to do more for you.
He started buying you bread and cakes, making sure your father and you had plenty of food in your storage. Matthias never told he left it, but deep down you knew. He sometimes made comments that made it known he needed you to eat.
You had more than most, a plump body that he would love to lay next to in the quiet hours of day, just before the sun would rise. You had a beautiful body and even with your round figure, you were smaller than him. it made it itch in him, knowing that you weren’t as strong as him. He needed to protect you, to make sure you ate and your home would always be full of food.
You began to notice how protective he was of you and even though your father didn’t approve, you snuck out to meet him. Stolen kisses in the forest where your father couldn’t see, promises given of a life he’d provide for you.
One day, as you lay in the grass on the meadow, Matthias absentmindedly strokes your belly. Everything aches in him to keep you warm, protected and fed.
“Matthias?” Your soft voice sings his name sweeter than it’s ever been sung before, a questionable look on your face. “What’s going on with you lately?”
“I don’t know.” He says, but it’s a lie. He realized this morning exactly what was wrong with him when he came by your home and could smell another man. It was intolerable. Matthias growled at the scent, a young virile man from the village. Human and a better match. But how dared he move into his territory? On the woman he wanted? Then suddenly, everything slotted itself into place.
It was mating season. It was the first summer he had spent in the city, and had spent near you. He’d never felt this way before, but now he knew.
He’d been so keen on making sure you were fed and healthy, preparing your body to carry his young, to survive a whole winter in the den with his cubs. He had showered you with gifts, showing he was a perfect mate. Scaring off any possible suitors, so you wouldn’t get taken.
He had to prevent anyone else from mating you. If you had been a werebear like him, now would be your most fertile time. Matthias hates his inner bear for not realizing that you don’t share his nature, cause it sure caused a problem for him.
“Are you sure?” You ask, turning your face to look at him. Matthias just rolls over, hovering over you as he looks into your eyes, wanting to say so much to you.
It was hard to keep from kissing you. too hard to not fall upon your mouth like a man starving. The scent of you, the idea of you covered in his scent, was more than enough to trip Matthias’ mind over the edge.
You make a surprised little noise into Matthias’ mouth as you surrender to him. Matthias needs you now, needs to mate you and claim you as his. You don’t put up a fight as he lifts your skirt, wanting this as much as he does. But you whimper as his fingers breach your entrance, feeling full on his fingers alone.
Matthias growls at the thought, wondering how you will whimper and writhe beneath him as he fills you with his cock. Something primal takes over as he smells your slick, knowing he did that. Knowing you want him as much as he wants you.
But still he pins your hands down, not wanting you to move. You were his, no one else could have you. a growl emerges from deep within as his teeth rake over your exposed neck, biting down just enough for you to freeze.
“Matthias…” You whimper as Matthias growls again, slotting himself between your legs. “I won’t move. I won’t leave.”
His grip loosens, his eyes finding yours. You cup his cheek gently before kissing him again. You’ve surrendered to him, but he still smells the fear in the air. Unable to hold back, it all becomes too much, he thrusts into you harder than he intends to. He licks up the column of your neck as an apology, but a moan escapes you, his name spilling over your lips like a prayer.
So he thrusts again and again, claiming your body as his. Your neck is bruised by his teeth, your wrists red from his strong grip and you’ve never looked better. You were his.
He can see it in your eyes before he feels it. The shift. The bones and ligaments breaking apart, settling into their new places. the sharp pain in his gums as his teeth sharpen. “I have to have you.” He growls, his voice now deeper and more gravelly.
“You have me. I’m yours.”
Matthias shutters. You would be such a good mate, your body able to withstand him even as he breeds you relentlessly. Once properly mated and bred, you would give him strong cubs. The idea of you heavy with his young, needing him to protect you, makes Matthias whimper as he drives his cock deeper. He would keep you fed, keep you warm. Give you a good home, be the best protector.
You whimper beneath him as he reaches places in you no one has ever touched before. With a few more thrusts, you fall apart for him, moaning out his name.
It’s all too much for him and he comes. His whole body shouts for him to fill you, so he drives his cock as deep as possible, filling you with his seed. He finally claimed you, the first time of many, and you were finally his.
With the top of his desire gone, he reverts back to his human form and lays down in the grass, scared to even look at you. This was not his plan, not the way he wanted to get you as his, so he fears you will be afraid of him now. But he feels your soft hand on his chest as you move into his nook. He takes your hand, so small in his and looks into your eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ve waited months for you. Though we could argue that my father would have preferred a proposal first.” You giggle softly. And he couldn’t agree more. The other bears wouldn’t be pleased he’d chosen a human as his mate, but he didn’t care. You were his and he was yours.
Notes: This fic is near and dear to my heart. I've always loved Roman mythology and history, so when this idea came to me one day, I had to run with it.
A huge thank you to my lovely @mindidjarin for the beta read and to the amazingly talented @kenobiwanx for bringing Mattheus to life.
I did give the reader a name, but no descriptions. I would just like to avoid using y/n.
Warnings: 18!! (And i mean it!) Mentions of death, blood and injuries. Violence typical for that time. Yearning, pining, mentions of slaves. Kissing, fluff, confessing feelings. SMUT! Fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie.
Words: 6766
Vocabulary - Character list - Masterlist
The smell of blood hangs heavily in the air, overwhelming his senses. He can taste it on his tongue, feel it on his skin. He can’t see the carnage around him, but he knows the sands of the arena are covered in blood, both his and the men who lay dead at his feet.
The roars of the spectators fill the air, once again naming him the victor. Pushing through the pain, his muscles ache as he rises to his feet to the cheers of the audience. Even after a year it was still a strange feeling hearing 60.000 people chant his name.
“You’re a legend among men, Diabolus.” His Doctore says as he comes to a halt beside him. Matt offers him a quick sideways smile, before they turn towards the Magistrate.
“A legend that can’t find his way out without help.”
Both men grin softly, before listening to the Magistrate’s judgement, officially claiming Mattheus to be the victor of the games. Once he’s done and the crowds cheer once more, Tullus gently turns Matt towards the gates.
“A few more matches like this and you could have anything you wanted. Rome favors you.” Tullus states, looking at the many spectators still yelling for the famous Diabolus as they exit the arena.
“Rome’s adoration is only there as long as I fill their purses with coin.” Matt spits out through gritted teeth, his injuries from the fight beginning to ache as the adrenaline slowly vanishes.
On tired wobbly feet, he walks through the gate into the underground of the Capua Amphitheater, quickly finding some water to quench his thirst. Hands soon roam over his body, accessing the damage. He knows he’ll need to be stitched up again, his body already littered with scars.
Some are old and faded, but most are new, a testament of his hard life in the arena. As a child he had dreamed of a quiet life. Never would he have imagined anything like this, but for a man without sight, maybe he should count himself blessed. He could have been left in the gutter, have a beggar’s life, yet here he was, a champion of Capua from the famous House Alethius. He should just have faith in the Gods and believe that this was the path for him.
.
Not long after the fights are done, they return home. It was a hard day in the area, all of them bruised and bloodied. Their Medicinus could usually manage them all alone, but today he had called upon the help of some of the house slaves. And by the raised heartbeats of the men, Matt could tell it was the female slaves.
A foreign scent reaches his nose. Underneath the scent of roses and lilies that usually follow Domina’s handmaidens, there was something different, something new. A faint scent of the ocean lingering in her hair, the fresh smell of grass and trees on her skin. Not Roman at all and far away from home.
“Make sure he heals well. Can’t have my champion out of commission for long.”
“Yes, Dominus.” She says, her voice small, trembling as she sits down beside him and starts cleaning his skin of blood.
Matt looks to his Dominus. Septimus Alethius, the most successful Lanista in Capua, had owned him for seven years. In those years, he had always been kinder than most, but he still saw his gladiators for what they were. Slaves with a sole purpose; To fill his purse with coin and to raise his popularity. He was aiming for the senate, everyone knew that, and this was just his steppingstone.
With a house full of champions, everyone knew who Septimus was. And with Matt’s help, soon all of Rome would know of him. So even through his kindness, Matt saw this for what it truly was. Him making sure his greatest asset could keep fighting.
Septimus is still talking about future plans, but Matt doesn’t listen. He focuses on the feeling of the new girls’ breath that ghosts his skin. The scent of her filling his nose. Her hands on him. Delicate fingers, expertly stitching his wounds. She’s done this before, but where? He wants to ask, to know who she is, but not with his Dominus right there.
After she puts the needle and thread down, she carefully washes the last of the blood off him. So gentle in her actions, Matt lets his mind wander. How would her hands feel against his skin in the late hours of the day, alone in his chambers. If it were her hands caressing him, instead of his own.
He’d never known love, rarely felt the touch of a woman, so these small interactions were precious to him. Made him feel like more than a slave. He knew he was only kidding himself, that a man like him would live a short life without love, but under her sweet touch he allowed himself to dream.
All too soon she is done, the warmth of her touch giving away to the coldness of the room. He senses her stopping in the doorway, lingering for a second before she disappears.
Walking down the corridors of the giant villa, you cannot help but think about your home. Used to a small village by the ocean in the northlands, this was vastly different. You longed to get home. Not because the Domina did not treat you kindly, but everything here was so different. The clothes, the people, the scent. The fresh ocean air replaced with dirt and filth. You considered yourself lucky that you were not in some common house. That would have been even worse.
There was one good thing though. The Gladiators. Some days you would sit beside Domina, spending hours looking down at them as they were training. Domina was particularly fond of one of them, her eyes always lingering a little too long on Franciscus. The champion they called Ultor. The Punisher.
You were guilty of just the same, but with a different champion. Diabolus, the man they say must have sold his soul to Pluto himself. And you must admit, watching him as he dances over the sand, skillfully taking down one opponent after the other, you were beginning to think it was true.
He is almost playful, in a way, as he swirls around on the sands of the Ludus, a huge grin on his face. The setting sun plays over his muscles, flexed as he grips his practice sword and swings it again against Decius, another of the great champions. He makes it look easy, like it is second nature, as he forces Decius to the ground, sword at his throat.
Never one to had enjoyed the brutality most people seemed to love, you had to admit it was quite captivating to look at them. These Gods among men, destined to die in the arena or to harvest eternal glory.
Caught in your own thoughts, you do not hear when Domina asks for more wine. Embarrassed, you scramble to the jug and fill her cup to the giggles of her and her visitor, the young wife of the local Legatus.
“Seems like we’re not the only ones enjoying your champions, Visellia.” Serena grins, as she takes another sip of her goblet.
You quickly walk over and fill her glass too, before returning to your spot beside Domina. Luckily, they seem to have moved on, speaking of the upcoming games of Vulcanalia. You return your gaze to the training grounds, only to find Diabolus looking up towards you. He offers you a soft smile, before resuming his attention to the training.
Soon the sun sits high in the sky, the heat almost unbearable. The training subsides, allowing the champions to eat and get a short rest before resuming their training. As their entertaining vanishes, Domina and Serena resides to the coolness of the villa, instantly sending you down to the cellars for more wine. Searching the shelves for the right Campanian wine, you don’t notice someone moving in the shadows behind you.
“You are new here.”
Shocked, you drop the carafe in your hand, the wine spilling over the dusty tiles. Panicked, you collect the pieces and hide them, as you look to the stranger still hidden in the darkness. “I am.”
A hand breaches the shadow, coming to a rest on the bares between you. “Then you should know it’s dangerous getting too close to these bars.” The hand pats the iron, making the strong materiel sing. “The men could reach out, grab you. They can’t be trusted.”
“Oh, and you can?” You counter, eyeing the man still covered in darkness. Suddenly he takes a step forward, the face of your champion coming into the light. He offers you a devilish grin, head tilted to the side.
“No. I’m the worst of them all.” He chuckles, his other hand gripping the iron as he takes you in. “Haven’t you heard? I’ve got the devil in me.”
With a gentle tap on the bars, he slides back into the shadows of the Ludus.
As you walk past the sands of the Ludus, your eyes search for Diabolus. It’s become a daily routine of yours. Whenever you are near, you look for him. And somehow, he always knows. He always looks in your direction, his eyes never meeting yours, yet you know he feels you are there. If not by the way his head turns to you, but then by the soft smile gracing his lips.
You have become closer. Even if you know you should not, you often hide some of your meat or bread, bringing it to Diabolus. Your encounters are brief, but still the highlight of your day. There in the cellar, hidden in the darkness with the bars between you, minutes could easily have turned into hours had you had the time. You wished you could spend all your time with him, this intriguing man that you barely knew, yet would risk the wrath of Dominus for.
So you always looked for him. Hoping for a mere glimpse of him, a small smile to brighten your day. Today, however, he is nowhere to be found. The others are pushed mercilessly by the Doctore, but not the champion. Saddened, you turn to the villa.
“Are you looking for me again?”
You can almost hear the smirk in his voice. How he does this, you do not know. Turning around, you can’t help but smile when you see him, a single flower in his hand, outstretched to you.
The roses of Domina’s garden are the most beautiful flowers you have seen in your life, their scent so fragrant that you often find yourself dreaming about the flower fields at home. Taking the rose from him, your fingers brush for just a moment, but it’s enough to make you yearn for more. But you know that will never be. Neither you or Matt belong to yourself anymore, so your wishes and dreams will never come to pass.
Still, you cherish the small moments you have with him, even if it is just mere minutes. “It is very beautiful, thank you.”
“I’m sure it is not as beautiful as you.”
“I am flattered, but your words do ring a little hollow when they are from a man without sight.” You tease, knowing he will not take offense by your words. And like you predicted, he only smiles as he leans in closer to the bars.
“If you are even a fraction of the beauty I’ve conjured up in my thoughts, not even Venus could rival you.”
Surprised, you look at him, afraid to believe his words. But searching his face, you find nothing but a genuine smile as his soft, hazel eyes looks to you. Flustered, you brave yourself to take a step closer and place your hand softly on his where it rests on the bars.
A soft sigh leaves his lips as he moves his hand and instead takes your small one in his.
“Oh, how I have longed to feel your soft skin against mine.”
.
For many moons Matt has yearned for you. To have you close and to feel your soft skin under his fingertips. Before you, it was the prospect of glory and coin in the arena that kept him going, but no more. Now his days were filled with thoughts of you and the life he could have had with you.
It’s foolish, he supposes, to even dream those dreams, but he does. Imagining you at home near the sea, a babe in your arms as he cleans the animal from his latest hunt. You underneath the furs of your shared bed after a long day, the heat of your body keeping him warm.
“I need to know your name. I cannot dream about you anymore, without knowing what name to whisper to myself in the darkness.”
His words surprise you, he can tell. The raised beat of your heart, the soft gasp caught in your throat. “Eira.” Your voice barely above a whisper, as if it’s a secret only for him. “. It means ‘merciful’. What’s yours?”
“You know what they call me.” Matt huffs out, secretly hating his name. A slave’s name, only uttered by people who want something of him, but never one who loved him.
“I meant your real name. I already know the legend, now I wanna know the man behind him.”
Surprised, he walks even closer to the bars. He hadn’t thought about his name in years, not knowing if anyone would ever say it again. “Mattheus.”
“Mattheus.” You repeat his name and never had anything sounded sweeter. Like Juno herself singing it back to him. In that moment he knew he had lost his heart to you, never wanting anything more than you. Even if it meant for him to fight his way through thousands of competitors, so that one day he might buy his freedom along with yours.
“Is… Is it even safe?” Livia asks, voice trembling as you make your way down the stairs to the cellar. Domina had given you order to fetch the best wine for tonight’s party, and you’d brought two of the other handmaidens with you. They had never been to the cellars, believing everything below the villa belonged to the gladiators.
“Don’t worry. There are iron gates between us and them.” You smile, walking over to the locked door that held the most expensive wines the roman empire could offer. “They would need this key to get out here.”
You hold up one of the keys, suddenly realizing what it actually is that you’re holding in your hand. The only thing keeping Mattheus away from you.
“Eira?” Livia asks softly, pulling you out of your train of thought. Shaking your head, you compose yourself as you put on a smile, pointing to the flasks Domina had asked for. “Take as many as you can carry, I… I’ll be up in a minute. Domina also wanted me to search for some mulsom. The Legatus prefers his wine sweet.”
You put on your best smile, hoping they don’t catch you in your lie. But you needed time, you needed them out of the way. As if Fortuna is watching over you, they just move to the flasks and fill their arms with all the Felarnian wine they could carry. Searching for the mulsom you don’t even need, you watch over your shoulder as they walk up the stairs again.
“Why did you lie to them?”
Turning around, you find Mattheus standing at the bars, a soft smile on those beautiful lips. More nervous then ever, you close the distance to the bars, heart racing rapidly as you find the right key. Mattheus tilts his head to the side when the sound of the keys jiggling hits him.
“I… Domina gave me the keys.” You utter, barely believing the words yourself. Mattheus grips the bars, leaning in closer. When you put the key into the keyhole, Mattheus shifts his weight impatiently, licking his bottom lip in anticipation. The lock clicks, the sound loud in the quiet room and Mattheus pushes gently at the gate, the hinges squeaking as it opens.
Chuckling in disbelief, he steps out over the threshold, out of the Ludus and into the villa. Timidly, he reaches for you almost as if he’s scared this is all but a dream. But as your hand slides into his, he releases the breath he’s been holding.
“I can’t believe you’re actually here.” He whispers, stepping closer. A timid hand moves to your cheeks, thumb circling your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He’s here, in your arms finally. “Your skin is so soft.”
As he leans in, your heart beats so wildly you fear it will burst from your chest. You had kissed boys before, just for fun back home, but never one where it mattered. For the first time in your life, you craved his lips against your own. Craved it more than anything else.
When his lips finally claim yours, it takes your breath away. It’s soft and doesn’t last long, but that one kiss was enough to bind your two souls into one.
Before you can deepen the kiss, the sound of footsteps in the distance pull you out of Mattheus’ arms. Walking over to the stairs, you listen intently, but the footsteps move away. Breathing a sigh of relief, you turn only to find Mattheus right behind you, listening intently for the same sound as you. Unable to hold back, you ask the question that’s been sitting at the tip of your tongue for many moons.
“How do you always find me so easily? Are you not truly blind?”
He just smirks as he closes the distance to you, his hand coming to a halt on your cheek. “If I were not blind, do you not think I would spend every waking hour looking into your eyes or marvel at the sight of you?” He grins, thumb grazing your bottom lip.
“I hear your heart. It beats sweeter than anyone else’s.” He walks around you, hands gently gracing your lower back. “And I smell you. Your scent drawing me in like a hummingbird to its flower.”
“Comparing me to a flower? You flatter me, my dear Mattheus.” You say softly, feeling the flush of heat in your cheeks.
“I have found that flattery works very well with Romans.” He grins, whispering in your ear. His breath ghosting over your skin, causing you to shiver. He is so close, his mere presence making your body scream for another touch.
“I am not Roman.”
“Indeed you are not.” He grins, the smile light and playful as he once again stands before you. Feigning being hurt by his words, you gasp as you clutch at your chest. You know is only a jest, but you can’t help but push him a little.
“I may have been raised in a small village, but I’m not a savage. And where might you be from, since you have such excellent manners, pray tell?”
“Londinium, Britannia. Bought and shipped here when I was a mere boy of 9.” He pauses, his hand coming to a halt on your shoulder before running his fingers down your arms, feeling the soft skin under his fingertips. It makes you shiver under his touch. “A lifetime ago.”
He moves to kiss you once more, but the calling of your name stops you both. You’re called upon, missed by Domina. Quickly, Mattheus return to the Ludus, closing the gate behind him. Just as you turn away, he grabs your wrist, stopping you.
“Please, just… one more before I have to be without you again.” He pleads, his hazel eyes soft as they desperately search for you. You heed his plea, kissing him through the bars, before going to the stairs with hurried steps. Looking back, you see him smiling wide before he disappears back into the shadows.
The time after your meeting in the cellar, Mattheus felt like he was floating on air, as if Jupiter himself had granted him wings. The stale bread had never tasted better, the long training sessions didn’t tire him and even the hard beds could offer him long nights full of the sweetest dreams.
You hadn’t been able to meet since that day, but it didn’t matter. Even if it would take him another year to feel your lips on his again, he knew the desire for you would burn equally bright. You were his reason to keep fighting, his way out of the darkness he’s been trapped in for so long.
“Your head is in the clouds, Diabolus. You should focus on training.” Franciscus spits out, grinning as he swings his sword. Mattheus just readies his own sword, refusing to let Franciscus get to him. Their rivalry was years old, always fueling their desire to be better. To best the other.
“You should take less notion of where my head is and focus on my sword.” He grins, before charging Franciscus. In a never-ending dance, both of them relentless in their onslaught on the other, they fight until Doctore calls them to a halt. Behind them on the balcony, Mattheus hears the cheering of Dominus.
“Magnificent.” Septimus smiles, proudly looking down at his champions. With a swing of his whip, the Doctore quickly gets the men to fall in line, waiting for Dominus to speak. “Diabolus, Ultor. A word.”
Shortly after they find themselves in Dominus’ private chamber. He walks around them, inspecting them.
“Do you know what time of year it is?” He asks, coming to a halt in front of them.
“End of summer, Dominus. Vulcanalia is upon us.”
“Yes. And I have been challenged by Marcellus to put forth my best champions against his in the Primus of the games.” He pauses to take a sip of his goblet, before addressing his men again. “The winners will win plenty of coin. Enough to fill your pockets and mine. So what say you?”
It’s a rhetorical question, really. Even if they didn’t want to fight, which they always did at the prospect of coin or glory, once the Dominus had decided something it would come to pass. He wouldn’t give up the chance to show of his men, gaining respect from the Magistrate or Legatus. So of course, they both nodded, knowing that in mere days they would risk their life in the arena once more.
The next days they spend training to work as one, to put their rivalry aside. Doctore pushed them harder, hours of relentless training under the burning summer sun. If Septimus and Marcellus wanted a match for the ages, they were gonna get one. So they pushed on, the Devil and the Punisher readying for Vulcanalia.
The day of a game was always filled with mixed emotions. The excitement would fill them and playful jests between the gladiators were thrown around, debating who would last longer. In what way they would end their opponent. But there would also be the underlying fear, the fear that would fuel them in the arena. This could be their last match, this could be the day they would die.
The magistrate had declared Sine Missione for these games. No mercy. Often games wouldn’t necessarily result in death, but with Sine Missione there was bound to be bloodshed on this day and many lives lost. Mattheus listens to his brothers beside him, wondering how many of them would return to the Ludus after today.
As the day went on, many souls were claimed by death. Mattheus couldn’t see the games, merely hear how fighter after fighter would enter the arena, their hearts racing rapidly. Luckily many of the returned were his brothers, proving the strength of House Alethius.
“How do you do it?” Decius asks, once again checking his armor. Always carrying his nerves on his skin, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, over and over, like a little dance to compose himself. ”You’re always so calm before a fight.”
“I’ve made my peace with death.” Mattheus grins, checking the ropes around his wrists. It's not entirely true, but he knows that is what Decius needs to hear. “The day I leave this place, I’ll greet Pluto like an old friend.”
“So it is true? Did you really sell your soul to him?”
Mattheus stops, lifting his gaze to his friend and all he does is chuckle, before the Doctore comes over, patting Decius on the shoulder. Mattheus stands, pulling Decius in close until their foreheads meet.
“May Juno protect you my friend and keep Mercury at bay.”
Decius nods, no more words needed, before he pulls away with a heavy breath. Putting on his helmet, he looks to the arena, already painted red by the men before him. In the last moment, he looks to Mattheus, his voice quivering.
“If I don’t-” He stops, looking to the ground. His words hang unsaid in the air, the weight of them heavy. Decius merely smile as the gates open before him. “I don’t need to wish you good fortune. The Gods love you, my friend. Hopefully I’ll be there to celebrate your victory later.”
And with that, he walks out onto the sands of the arena to the roars of the crowd.
.
“Ready?” Franciscus asks as he comes to a halt besides Mattheus. Mattheus grips his sword and axe, the weapons heavy in his hands. Breathing deep, trying to still his heart, he looks to the arena.
“I want to win today, Franciscus. I can’t die yet.” Mattheus breathes out, thinking about you waiting back at the villa, praying to your own Gods instead of his, hoping he will return.
“What? You’re afraid to die, Mattheus?” Franciscus huffs out, surprised since he has never once seen Mattheus like this. “I thought you were tougher than that.”
“I always believed that death was a gift. If a free man dies, he only loses the luxuries of life. If we die, we lose our pain.” He sighs as the gates slowly start to open before them. “But I… I’ve found someone to live for.”
Franciscus face softens, the memories of his wife back home flooding his mind. She is what keeps him going, the hope of one day he could return to her his fuel in the arena. He raises his hand to Mattheus’ shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze very unlike him.
“Then let us go win.”
His breathing is strained, the endurance from Marcellus’ fighters better than they expected. The metal of their weapons sing every time they meet. Mattheus can hear Franciscus beside him, his heavy pants and beating heart like a beacon to where his brother is.
His grip on the sword tightens. It felt like a fire had started in his chest, fueled by the desire to survive, to return to you. He sharpens his senses, listens to the other feet dancing over the sand, finds their heart beats amidst the roar of the crowd and the ring of metal. Mattheus jumps out of the path of a sword, swinging his own to meet the flesh of his opponent. Before Mattheus can turn, the tip of a sword grazes his abdomen, the warmth of the blood spreading on his skin.
He doesn’t have time to think, just readies his axe and sword once more, swinging with vigor at the other. Once more he draws blood, Mattheus smaller and faster than the others. Quick as a flash, Mattheus swings the axe, again and again, continuing forward. The other man stumbles, taken aback by the wrath that possesses Mattheus. Dodging another swing from his opponent, Mattheus dances around him, sensing an opening. Before the moment passes, Mattheus thrusts his sword forward.
The sword went clean through the other man’s neck. Breathing hard, his mouth falls open as he hears the guttural sounds from the man in front of him as he chokes on his own blood. Beside him, he hears another man fall to his knees in the sand, the sound of death surrounding him. In the chaos of the spectators shouting, he searches for a sound, a heartbeat he knows.
“It’s over Mattheus… We won.”
The roars of the 60.000 people filling the amphitheater is deafening and could be heard miles away. All of Capua would know they had won and soon the word would travel to Rome. With aching muscles, Mattheus makes his way to Franciscus, pulling his brother into a tight embrace. Once enemies, but not anymore. Franciscus chuckle softly, spitting out some blood.
“She must be one hell of a woman with the way you fought.”
Laughing, they turn to the balcony as the Magistrate stands to declare them victors. The amphitheater comes alive, shouts of praise and worship filling the air. In moments like this it was hard not to feel like a God.
It takes an hour before they return to the villa, every important name in Capua wanting to praise the victors, wanting to be a part of the glory. Septimus felt the praises as well, coins slipping into his purse as the well wishers wanted to plan parties, fights or visits to his villa, all wanting to see the Ludus that could breed such champions.
As the carriage stops at the villa, Septimus pulls Mattheus and Franciscus to the side with a smile on his face that could rival the sun. “My champions! You’ve brought glory to house Alethius. Tell me, what can I do for you to show my gratitude?”
“Wine and women for the men.” Franciscus says without hesitation, wanting to share the spoils of his victory with the others. They had all done well today, deserving a reward. And those who had given their life, them would they drink to.
“I’ll see it done at once.” He winks, patting them on the shoulder as he once again yells in victory, exhilarated over the newfound glory. Mattheus walks forward, gently stopping Dominus.
“Perhaps… I could ask for a favor of my own?”
“Ask and we shall see.” Septimus raises an eyebrow as he looks at Mattheus.
.
Freshly bathed per orders from Dominus, you follow one of the guards as he leads you down the stairs to the Ludus. You hear the men’s joyful laughter and boisterous voices as they feast, drink and loose themselves in the women provided for them. For a moment you fear that’s your destination. But the guard leads you down a small corridor, stopping in front of a closed door, gesturing for you to step inside.
Once the door opens, you find Mattheus there in the dim lights of his candles, the remaining rays of the sun barely lightening the room. When he senses you, a wide smile forms on his lips as he takes a step forward. He takes your hand in his, sending the guard away. Suddenly, your hearts races like never before, this situation so foreign to you. You had stolen moments with Mattheus in the past, but nothing like this. Trembling, you stay still as his hand moves to cup your cheek.
“You are trembling. Do you not wish to be here?”
“No, I do… I… I’ve just never lain with a man.” You avert his gaze, embarrassed that you must disappoint him after his grand victory. “I fear you chose a poor prize.”
“You’re the only company I would ever choose.” His finger hooks under your chin, gently lifting your gaze to his. He doesn’t see you, but you still feel seen as you stare into his kind, hazel eyes.
“I called upon you because I was lonely and wanted to be in your embrace again, not just to have a hole to bury my cock in.”
You blush at his words, not because you find him crass or rude, no. The words send pleasant shivers down your spine, awakening something deep inside you. A need you have never felt before.
“But Dominus… He told me to please you.”
“And do you not think I will be pleased just to be in your company?” He chuckles softly, as his free hand finds yours, his fingers lightly playing over your delicate ones.
You want to tell him you know what men think about, what they want. You’ve seen it too often with your friends and that was with free men. This was a man who lived at the mercy of others, a slave. Deprived of all good things in life. How could he not want more?
As if he reads your mind, his hand moves to cup your cheek, pulling you so close you can feel his breath ghost upon your skin.
“Jupiter knows I would love nothing more than to feel your wet heat around my cock, but for now I’ll settle for a night in your arms.” He pauses, his breath hitching as his hand untangles from yours, landing softly on your hip. “Would you stay with me?”
Unable to form words, you simply nod as he leads you to his bed. True to his words, he does nothing but hold you in the late hours of the day as the sun sets over Capua. There in his arms, feeling warm and protected, you feel your guard fall completely. Knowing you should not give your heart to him, you fear it’s already too late. Two souls doomed to be in love but never have each other fully. Cupid could be cruel, you think, as you sigh with content, nuzzling closer to Mattheus’ chest.
You feel a hardness brush against your thigh. Shifting, you glance down between you and Mattheus only to find his subligaria tenting. “I said I would settle for your embrace, but I am but a man.” He chuckles, a soft blush creeping up his cheeks. “I promise I will not touch you unless you ask.”
“And if I were to ask now?” you question, unsure what you ask of him. You have heard stories from your friends, but their tales didn’t exactly make laying with a man sound pleasing and with your lack of knowledge, you are not entirely sure what he means by ‘touching you’. One thing you do know, is that the feeling in the pit of your stomach is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before and you want more.
“Are you?” His breath hitches in his throat as he leans up on one elbow, hovering above you. His long fingers slip behind your ear as he cups your face, leaning in closer.
A whispered ‘yes’ leaves your lips and with that his lips meet yours in a heated kiss. Months of yearning, only fueled by the shared kisses a few moons ago, pours into the kiss. His free hand finds your hip, pulling you flush against his body. The hand on your hips travels up your body, Mattheus hands trembling in anticipation. He unclasps the brooch on your shoulder, allowing him to pull your top down to expose your breasts. His lips leave yours, only to travel down the column of your throat, peppering kisses on your soft skin. He makes his way down to your breasts, making you gasp as he takes a nipple in his mouth.
His length is hard against your thigh and his lips wet and warm on your skin. It’s all too much and still not enough. You want all of him, want him in ways you've never wanted any other man before.
“Please, Mattheus.” You breathe out,
His hand pulls at the thin fabric covering your body, exposing your body to him. He stops, fingers dancing softly over every inch of your skin, storing you to memory. “You’re so beautiful.”
You can’t help but giggle, but he quickly silences you with another heated kiss to your neck as his fingers move down between your legs. Sliding between your already soaked folds, you gasp at the feeling of his fingers moving over your sensitive core.
He takes his time, making sure you gasp out in pleasure as he circles your clit. The motion causes a fire in the pit of your stomach that spreads down your groin, a strange feeling growing. It only takes a few more strokes of his skilled fingers to make you gasp out his name, seeing stars. A blinding light streams through your body, making you shiver with pleasure.
Hastily removing his fingers from you, Mattheus pulls at his subligaria, freeing his achingly hard cock. Gently, he slots himself between your legs, hovering over you. his hot skin brushes over yours and his breath fanning over your neck and chest makes your skin break out in goosebumps. He leans onto his elbows on both sides of your head, kissing you softly.
Your chest starts rising and falling rapidly, the anticipation of whats to happen dawning on you. Ever since you first laid eyes on Mattheus, you knew you wanted to be his and now you were. About to give yourself to him in ways you’d never imagined.
“Look at me.” Mattheus breathes out and you do. You look into his hazel eyes and the look of love in his eyes is enough to calm your nerves. “Breathe. I got you.”
Moving his hand down between your bodies, he lines himself up at your entrance. Slowly, as if he’s afraid to break you, he pushes into you. You gasp out his name, clinging onto him as he fills you up. it hurts, more than you thought, but still it fills you with a sensation like no other. Mattheus’ cock stretches you open, sinks in so deep. Breathing heavily, he stops as he allows you to adjust to him.
“Mattheus… Please move.”
And when he does, its like every fiber in your body awakens, the embers turning into an inferno threatening to consume you. As you relax more, he moves faster, harder. You cry out, but in pain and pleasure, begging him to continue when he stops to make sure you’re okay.
Mattheus moans in your ear, quickening his pace. That strange feeling from before is back, hiding in the pit of your stomach. Mattheus thrusts into you deeper, his own release near. His eyes are dark with lust as he closes the distance again, kissing you so softly your heart threatens to burst.
His eyes search yours, never really finding them, but still you know he sees you. Suddenly, you feel naked under him, soul laid bare for only him to see. A sparkle gleams between you, impossible to ignore. Your chest feels tight, and your lungs burn as you realize you have been holding your breath.
Drawing a deep breath, you whimper as it all becomes too much. The feeling of bliss so close. “You’re so beautiful. My Goddess.” Mattheus pants, not able to hold back any longer. He thrusts hard, causing you to reach your peak. His movements falters as he comes, whimpering as he comes inside you, filling you with his cum.
In the minutes after, none of you speak, only your shared breathing filling the air. When he finally moves from you, its only to lay down and pull you with him. None of you know what to say, knowing that as soon the first rays dance over the sky, you will leave this room and probably never return.
“I should not say these words.” He begins, but you stop him with a finger to his lips. “Then don’t say them. I fear they’ll cause damage to my heart not even Venus could mend.”
He removes your hand and kiss softly on your knuckles, smiling but with eyes filled with sadness. “If I had but one more hour of love, if that was all that is given me… I would give my love to you.”
Cupping his cheek, your chest feels tight. He’s given you his heart and even if you’d never be in his arms again, you knew your heart was his. “We may not know what our days will bring, and I may not hold you in my arms again, but… Deep in my heart I know I will be yours. In this life or the next.”
With no more words to be said, Mattheus claims your lips in a kiss, filled with love, hope and promises. There in the darkness of his room, the feeling of his beating heart under your palm, you wished that the night would never end, that you could stay in his arms forever.
Author’s note: what was supposedly a innocent picture shared by @mindidjarin in our TFC server caused a few of us to go feral for Father Matthew. And here's my contribution 😅
Oh, and just because I really needed Matt with the glasses, let's pretend he's almost blind 😆
And I have to say religion is not my forte, so if I've made a mistake, I'm sorry. I tried to do some research 🙈
Warnings: Oh Lord, where to begin? Sacrilege, blasphemous behavior, probably incorrect use of prayers/confessions, taking some liberties with the size of a confession booth, biblical references, corruption, Father Matthew is a virgin (because i said so!), SMUT! 18+. Implied masturbation, Oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, choking, cream pie, body worship, Catholic guilt. Let's just say I'm gonna burn in hell for this.
Words: 4K. I'm sorry, I couldn't stop.
”Church? Really?”
You can’t hide your disgust and instantly you see your roommate's smile fade. You don’t mean to offend her, not really, religion has just never been your thing. Never even been to church, you can’t really imagine going now.
“Come on. It’s always so nice to go during the holidays.” Laura tries, taking your hands in hers. “Please. For me? You only have to go once if you don’t like it, promise.”
Laura gives you a pleading smile and you feel yourself give in. She’s the kindest person ever, so how can you even say no to her? And maybe it won’t be so bad.
“But… Am I even allowed to go?” you ask with a shrug of your shoulders, causing Laura to laugh. She just wraps her arms around you, before giving your forehead a kiss.
“Of course, silly. What do you think will happen? You’d burst into flames?” she giggles before walking towards the kitchen to get your dinner started. Little does she know that is exactly what you’re thinking.
You weren’t exactly a complete sinner, but you weren’t a wallflower either. Never been afraid to try things, you’re quite sure you’ve done things Laura haven’t even heard off. She’s probably spray you with holy water if she knew. It’s quite ironic you ended up with a good modest catholic girl as your roommate, when you live in Hell’s Kitchen of all places.
The following Sunday you find yourself in front of Clinton Church with an overly excited Laura at your side. Her family would go to church religiously every Sunday and she never missed one. After moving to Hell’s Kitchen, she had quickly found a new church and according to her, the priest here were amazing and really inspiring, whatever that means.
Laura drags you all the way up to the front. You’re about to protest, hoping you could have hidden in a corner, when you hear people fall silent. Looking up at the alter, you see the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.
“Who’s that?” you whisper, earning an annoyed look from Laura. “That’s the priest. Now shush.”
And you do. Not because she told you too, but because you wouldn’t even be able to form words if you tried. You’re instantly drawn to him. His dimples when he smiles, his smooth voice as he talks passionately throughout the sermon, his beautiful eyes as they look over his congregation.
After the service, Laura drags you up to the priest, wanting to introduce you. “Father Matthew, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” She says softly, causing him to turn around. He’s even more handsome up close and you feel your mouth go dry. Laura gives him your name and when he repeats it, you feel yourself blush.
“Welcome. It’s good to have you with us.” He says with a bright smile, taking your hands in his. “If there’s ever anything, my office is always open.”
Oh, if only he knew what you were thinking right now. You nod politely, thanking him. Another person demands his presence, so he bids you farewell with another killer smile, making your knees weak. Unable to tear your eyes away, you eye him as he talks to the other attendants. Charming, handsome and passionate. You start to see the appeal of going to church.
A few days later you find Laura knee-deep in flour when you come home from work, the kitchen looking like a mess.
“What’s going on?” You ask with a grin, trying to help lessen the damage. With a heavy sigh, she sits down on a stool, pulling some dough out from her hair.
“There’s a bake sale at the church. I want to help.” She huffs out, pouting like a child. You can’t help but laugh softly, helping her with another lump of dough.
“Let me bake it for you.” You pat her shoulder, as you return to the counter and start cleaning up some of the mess she’s made. An idea pops into your head. “Maybe I should come to the bake sale. Help you out.”
At that she stops and look at you, confusion written all over her face. “You? Wanna help? But you don’t even believe in God.”
“No, but I believe in Father Matthew’s ass.” You grin, but stopping as soon as you see the horrified expression on Laura’s face. “What?”
“You really shouldn’t talk about a priest like that.” She counters, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t think a man as devout as him would appreciate it.”
“Oh, come on!” You grin, leaning against the counter as you face her, arms crossed over your chest. “You make it sound like it’s a sin or something. I’m just saying he’s hot.”
Laura avoids your gaze, her fingers fidgeting with the little piece of dough she pulled from her hair. She’s clearly uncomfortable, trying to find the right words. “But… It kinda is forbidden. I mean, he’s a priest. A catholic priest. They have to abstain from such things.”
Putting down the spoon in your hand, you look at her confused, replaying her words in your mind. “So… You’re telling me Father Matthew is a virgin?!”
“Not that it’s any of our business to discuss, but…” she pauses, her cheeks a bright pink, clearly not used to conversations like this. “It’s most likely, yes.”
And with that she walks away, done with the conversation. Shaking your head in disbelief, you save the batter before pouring it into a pan. You couldn’t wrap your head around a guy like him being a virgin. So charismatic and kind, there was no way.
The next day at the bake sale, Father Matthew comes over to thank you for the help. You generously offer to help whenever he needs it, which is how you found yourself helping out at the church several times a week. Whatever it took to get closer to Father Matthew.
He was like this forbidden fruit, a beacon calling you in like a moth to a flame. You always found yourself smiling in his company, craving his attention. And you dont think the affection is one sided. Father Matthew smiles more in your presence, always finding reasons to be near you.
Small fleeting touches would send your heart soaring. You wondered if he knew the effect he had on you, how much you longed for him.
Especially late at night, laying alone in your bed, you found your thoughts invaded by him. How his perfect body would feel against yours. How those lips would feel, trailing kisses over every inch of your skin. His voice whispering sweet praises in your ears.
It really wasn’t fair. A pious and devout man with an ass and lips made for sin, and you couldn’t touch him. You were starting to think that if there really was a God, he certainly was a cruel one.
It’s a quiet day at the church, not really anything to do. But still you stayed, talking to Matthew about… anything really. Today he talked about how his life sometimes had been lonely before he found his calling. The words from Laura still ringing in your head, you find your courage to finally ask the question that’s been burning to come out.
“Have you never been curious?” Your ask, your fingers grazing the rows of benches as you make your way over to Matthew. Looking to you briefly, he just offers a smile as he keeps putting the bibles in place.
“It's my job to be curious, but for the sake of argument. Curious about what?”
“What I mean is…” You step forward, further closing the distance between you and Father Murdock. “Have you ever been tempted?”
He swallows hard and you hear his breathing get heavier. Licking his lips, he puts down the bible and turn to you. “I have.”
You know you shouldn’t, but you walk closer still, your body almost touching his. “And you never wanted to give in to temptation?”
“Tha-that would be a sin.” He breathes out, clearly affected by you. “The, uhm… The devil often sends temptations in the most…” he pauses, breathing strained as his hand comes to rest on the bench in front of him, knuckles almost turning white as he clenches around the wood. “Alluring forms. All to test our faith.”
“And how strong are you in your faith, Father?” you breathe out, using every single ounce of willpower not to kiss him. Never one to believe, you feel yourself praying for strength to resist him.
“Not-” he swallows, turning his head to you, his face a mere inch from yours. “Not as strong as I want to be.”
The air between you is thick. You want to lean in, claim his lips with your own. Your whole body is screaming for him. It’s so forbidden, but you don’t care. You want him more than you’ve ever wanted a man before. Needing him like you're drawing and he is air.
Unable to hold back any longer, you lean forward and gently press your lips to his in a sweet, brief kiss. Petrified, he stands there wide eyed, mouth slightly ajar.
The door to the church opens, causing Father Matthew to break away from you. His face flustered, bottom lip quivering as he tries to compose himself. He looks to the man who entered the church, swallowing hard, as he takes one of the bibles, using it to cover his erection.
“I-I must go.” He stutters, fixing his glasses and smoothes down his hair, trying to look unphased when in fact his insides are in turmoil, his soul on fire from your kiss. He gives you a soft smile, his free hand squeezing your arm, before he walks down the aisle.
You sit down in the confession booth, waiting. It’s not long before the hatch slides away, the unmistakable voice of Matt Murdock greeting you.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. This is my first time confessing.”
His breathing changes. He knows it’s you. He shifts in his seat, clearing his throat before he speaks. “What do you have to atone for, my child?”
“I have had unpure thoughts of a man I shouldn’t lust after. A man of the church. I feel myself drawn to him.” You confess, looking to the little window between you and Matthew. “I… I have touched myself thinking about him.”
“Oh God.” He breathes out, barely above a whisper.
“I have thought about all the ways I could please him. How he would feel inside me.”
A soft whimper fills the air. You can hear him squirming beside you, finding it hard to sit still. “I wonder if he thinks of me too. If he has laid there in the darkness, hard at the thought of me.”
“Please… Don’t…” is all he manages to say, hearing the struggle in his voice. “I can’t…”
In that moment you give hell to everything, leaving the booth and find yourself opening the door to his side. Father Matthew looks up, breathing coming out hard, as he tries to control himself. His cock is straining against the zipper, begging to be released. He tries to hide it, ashamed of how little self-control he has around you.
You walk in, not even bothering to close the door behind you before you straddle his lap, your core rubbing against his hard length. He whimpers at the contact, muttering prayers under his breath.
“Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll go.” You say, the pleading clear. You want him with every fiber of your being, already soaked through your panties. A wicked part of you wants to ruin him, wants to know you were the one taking his innocence, right here before the eyes of God.
“You know I can’t.” He looks up, eyes glazed over with lust. He swallows hard, his hand cupping your cheek. He prays that you have the strength to leave, because his is faltering. Leaning in closer, your breath ghost over his lips, causing him to shiver.
“Please don’t. I… I’m not strong enough to resist you.” He stutters, not breaking away. You claim his lips in a soft, almost timid kiss. Moans fill the air as he feels your soft lips against his. Deepening the kiss, you grind against him, feeling how hard he is under you.
Your hands move down his chest, cupping his bulge, eliciting sweet whimpers from Father Matthew. You push away, falling to your knees, the cold stones hard against your skin. You unzip his pants, hand wrapping around his weeping cock, so desperate for attention. Father Matthew puts his hand over yours, causing you to stop.
“No, we can’t… ” He tries to protest, yet his hips jerk up into your hand, whimpering at the friction. At that you just smile softly, taking him into your mouth down to the base, getting a loud moan from him. Father Matthew throws his head back, eyes open, thinking about the lifeless figure hanging over the alter, judging him.
“God forgive me.” He whimpers, his fingers gripping onto the bench beneath him. You bob your head, moaning as his tip hit the back of your throat. The vibrations of your moan sending shivers through Farther Matthew, making him squirm under you, before he stops you by pushing your head away.
He falls to his knees, facing you. His eyes almost find yours, the intensity of the moment making his heart swell with something he wishes were weaker, so he could ignore it. But he can’t. His hands move to the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head, uncovering your smooth soft skin that breaks out in goosebumps under his timid touch.
You know it's the first time he's ever touched another human so intimately, so you let his fingers explore your skin, his trembling hands cupping your breasts.
Your heart is beating fast, the sound almost deafening as your lips come together again. You make quick work of the buttons of his shirt, fingers running hungrily over his chest. You hold him tight as you press kisses down his jaw to his throat.
Father Matthews skin burns under your touch, eyes half lidded, heavy with want as his eyes search for you. With a hand flat on his chest, you turn, pushing him back until he’s laying on the floor, his upper body outside the booth. Anyone could walk in and find you, but none of you care. Straddling him, your soaked panties rub over his exposed cock, making him groan under you. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as you grind on him.
Pulling your panties to the side, you take a hold of his cock, slowly lowering yourself onto his hard length. Father Matthew holds his breath as you take him to the base, his mind going blank at how good you feel. “God forgive me.” He chants, over and over, as you fuck yourself on his cock. His whimpers fill the air, the sound echoing throughout the church.
His fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts up into you, unable to hold back. It’s so good, so forbidden. It only takes a few more seconds before Father Matthew comes with a loud groan.
“Oh God!” he moans, eyes closed as he pumps into you one last time before coming to a halt. For a moment, all you hear in the empty church, is your heavy breathing filling the air. After catching his breath, he sits up, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He pushes you off him gently, averting your gaze as he quickly fixing his clothes. Guilt is painted all over his features, his face red with embarrassment as he runs towards his office, leaving you alone on the floor.
A week later, you find yourself outside his office. You want to say your sorry, to seek his forgiveness for being weak. You wanted it, but it wasn’t until you saw the torment on his face that you realized what you had done.
You had taking his virginity, without even thinking about the consequences. You had to make amends. Taking a deep breath, you knock on his door and wait.
“Come in.”
Peaking in, you see him sitting at his desk, a stack of paper before him. His fingers glide over the pages, reading another line, before looking in your direction.
“What can I do for you?”
“I… I wanted to say sorry.” You barely manage to say, voice close to breaking. Father Matthew stop what he's doing, pushing away from his desk.
“You’re not the only one guilty of what happened that day.” He walks up to you, his index finger gently tracing your jaw. “And I’m sorry for leaving you. I just…”
“Felt guilty?” You offer, getting a small smile in return from Father Matthew. Cupping your cheek, he nods softly, sighing at the feeling of your soft skin under his fingers.
“Yes. I cannot allow myself to be tempted.” He pauses, resting his forehead against yours. “But you make it very hard. Make me falter in my faith.”
He breaks away from you, walking back to his desk, the frustration evident. You walk over to Father Matthew, sitting down beside him on the desk. There’s so much you want to say, but you fear the words wouldn’t help. You settle for placing your hand on his, a gesture so innocent compared to what else you've done, but it still feels like you're playing with fire.
Father Matthew looks to his hand, lips quirking up in a little smile, before he turns his hand around, so he can hold yours. His thumb moves in soft circles on the back of your hand, the motion as soothing for him as it is to you.
Looking down at the table, you see a pair of glasses with dark red glass, so unlike the ones he usually wears. "What are the red glasses for? Can you read hidden codes in the books with them?"
"You have watched too many movies." Father Matthew grins, giving your hand a squeeze. He looks in their direction, scratching the back of his head. "Most blind people wear dark shades. Some to hide their eyes, but most because it's easier on the eyes."
"But... you're...?"
"Almost completely blind. Barely any sight left. So it's not long before I'll have to switch these out." He smiles, tapping the clear glasses on his nose.
After that, the two of you sit in silence for a while, none of you daring to speak. Finally, you break the silence.
"Father Matthew, I-"
“I believe you were put on this earth to be my test from God. My apple of Eden.” He interrupts with a pained smile, turning to you, his free hand coming to rest on your cheek. "And now that I've known desire, I fear one taste will never be enough."
You blush, the sacrilege in his words weighing heavy on you. You know what those words could mean, how they could bring ruin to him, as he would sacrifice everything he's worked for, for you.
His lips find yours in an innocent kiss. A silent 'God forgive me' falls from his lips, before they claim yours again. This time less timid as his tongue begs for entrance. It quickly turns heated, frantic, as he moves closer to you, unable to keep his distance any longer.
Father Matthew moves from the desk, only to stand between your parted legs, his hands shaking as they pause on your thighs. He falls to his knees, looking up at you.
“What wicked games our Lord can play, sending someone like you to cross my path.” He breathes out, fingers trembling as they open your jeans. Slowly he pulls them off along with your underwear, exposing you to him. Hands caressing up the length of your legs, causing Father Matthew to shiver.
“No one but you could make a man fall from grace.” He grins, nipping at the tender flesh of your inner thigh, eliciting a string of whimpers from you. “Hail Mary, full of Grace.” He prays, placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin, muttering prayers under his breath. You shiver as he nears your heated core, already soaked for him. He kisses you mound, his breath on your sensitive cunt making you tremble.
“Pray for us sinners, now and in the hour of our death. Amen.” He pleads, his eyes blown wide with lust as he dives in, his tongue licking up your wet slit.
"Oh God… Father Matthew." You moan out, fingers entangling in his hair as he devours you like a man starved. His perfect lips encircle your clit as he starts sucking, pulling a sweet moan from you. His name falls from your lips, like the softest prayer, a hymn more beautiful than any he'd ever heard before.
Lowering himself a little more, he licks at your entrance, the sweet taste of you making him moan into your folds. He grabs a hold of your hips, urging you closer as he pushes his tongue inside of you, wanting to drink you in completely.
Flattening his tongue, he licks up your slit, flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud. It's all too much and with a few more flicks of his tongue, you come undone with his name on your lips.
He keeps nipping at your sensitive core as you come down, your breathing rapid as you look down, marveling in the sight before you. He looks good on his knees, like a good catholic boy praying at the alter that is you.
Pulling him up to his feet, you kiss him with unknown passion, the hunger for him threatening to break you if you don't feel him inside you soon. Father Matthew feverishly pull at his belt, impatiently unzipping his pants. He palms his erection, pumping a few times before he lines up at your entrance, his whole body trembling.
He knows it's a sin, he knows he shouldn't. But he wants you, needs you. Not since he found his calling, his path, has anything called to him as you do. His Lilith, his temptress, unbroken and unbowed as you make this cold office feel like your own Garden of Eden.
Pushing in, his legs almost give in at the feeling of you. Your wet heat, so inviting as he pushes in, soft prayers once again spilling over his lips.
"God, give me strength." He mutters, voice close to breaking, his lips claiming yours in a desperate kiss.
Your tight warmth surrounding him, igniting a furious fire deep in his belly. His hands find your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh. He pulls out slowly, reveling in the feeling of you.
“How can anything that’s a sin feel so good?” He breathes out as he pushes in slowly, inch by delicious inch, before he bottoms out. “I’m sure this is what heaven feels like.”
By the time Father Matthew starts thrusting, you almost sob at the sensation of his hard cock inside you. The stretch is delicious and he takes his time, savoring you and your cunt with slow and deep thrusts. You clench around him, already close again.
He grips you harder, his pace quickening as he gets close to his own release. His hand moves up to your throat, squeezing gently, just enough to make you gasp for air.
"Matthew, please…" You whisper as he claims your lips, the kiss almost bruising as he pistons his hips against you. You scream out your release, fingers digging into Father Matthews shoulders. He only thrusts once more, before he spills inside you, filling you to the brim.
"Jesus Christ!" You pant, feeling how he throbs inside of you. Matthew just chuckles, kissing your forehead sweetly.
"Language. You shouldn't take his name in vain." He says seriously, but soon breaks into a laugh. He kiss you again, quick pecks on your lips, cheeks and nose.
"Sorry, Father." You feign innocence, biting your lip. Father Matthew just sighs, nudging your bottom lip free with his thumb before he kiss you softly.
"What should I do with you?" He laughs, placing another series of soft kisses on your lips.
"I think this calls for lots and lots of private confessions. This little lamb has strayed too far from the path." You grin, kissing his neck. He instantly moans, still new to this kind of intimacy.
What you’ve done, is the ultimate sin and could lead to Father Matthew being excommunicated. Forced to leave the church and his calling. But by the way his cock twitches against your core, you think he's ready to sin some more.
"Settling in front of the fireplace at night." With Matt? I know his place doesn't have a fireplace, BUT STILL! Maybe you can make some magic happen 🥺
Aww, Amanda. Thank you for this ask. If there's one thing I love, it's a good "huddle up by the fire" story 🥰❤️
Matt murdock x reader
Authors note: No warnings. Pure fluff. I hope this is what you were looking for 🙈💕
”Can’t sleep?”
Looking up, you find Matt smiling with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. You scootch over and pat the couch, inviting him to join you in front of the fire. It had been a long and beautiful day, so you found it hard to sleep, still high on excitement and a little drunk.
He opens his arms and without thinking you lean into him, nuzzling into his side. Matt’s arms wrap around you, making sure you’re covered by the blanket. For a while you just sit there, watching the flames dance in the old fireplace. His hands rub soothing circles on your shoulder and thigh as he holds you close.
It’s strange how normal this feels, being in his arms. Truth be told, you had dreamt about it for years. You’d been madly in love with Matt Murdock ever since you meet him and Foggy senior year in college, but never had the guts to make a move. Still now, after a whole day with him as you date at your friend’s wedding, you’re afraid to admit anything.
“Thank you for being my date today.” You say, hoping your voice don’t give you away. Somehow, he always knows how you feel. An annoying trait really, that meant you’ve never been able to keep a secret from Matt, except for your lingering crush.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He answers softly, kissing the top of your head. Sweetheart. If only he knew how your heart skips a beat every time he calls you that. “Haven’t had this much fun in years.”
He’s not wrong. It had been a wonderful day. Your friend since childhood had finally married her high school sweetheart on a beautiful December day. Everything had been perfect and like some fairytale, the snow had fallen just as they exited the church, turning the day even more magical.
Hopelessly single, you had asked Matt to be your date and he had happily obliged and boy where you glad, he did. He could wear the hell out of a tux and was without a doubt the most handsome man there. He had been one big smile all day and charming as always, earning you a few envious looks from the single women there. The whole day he’d been by your side, his hand often finding it’s way to the small of your back. You couldn’t deny the small shiver going through you, feeling the heat from his palm through the thin fabric of your dress.
When he later had swirled you around the dancefloor, your heart was beating so fast it was threatening to burst through your chest. For a blind man, he really could dance and if possible, you felt yourself fall even harder. Even more when he had taken you outside for air, the snow falling softly, silencing everything around you. There under the stars, the evening air peaceful and quiet, you had looked to him wondering if you’d ever dare confess your true feelings.
“Sweetheart?”
He pulls you out of your daydream, his warm hand squeezing you a little as he looks to you. When you meet his gaze, you wonder if you’ll ever get enough of his beautiful hazel eyes, loving whenever he takes the glasses off. You love when you see him like this, without the glasses, work suit and his normal guard up. He’s just your Matt, the worn t-shirt and grey sweats wearing, soft and caring, Matt.
Eyes darting to his perfect lips, you feel yourself pulled closer to him. You want to blame the booze, but you know you simply can’t resist him any longer and a second later your lips are on his. It’s brief, but the softness of his lips lingers on yours as you pull away.
“I’m sorry, I-” is all you manage to say, before his hand comes up to cup your cheek, pulling you into another kiss. It starts off sort, timid, like he’s afraid of hurting you, but as you lean in closer, soft moans filling the air, Matt deepens the kiss. When you break away for air, a wide grin spreads on his lips, mirroring your own.
“I love you, Matt.” You blurt out, before you can stop yourself. He chuckles in response, kissing softly once more, before resting his forehead against yours.
“I know. Have known for a while.” Now it’s’ your turn to chuckle. Of course he does. One day, you have to ask how he does it.
“Why have you never said anything?” you ask softly, fingers fiddling with his t-shirt
“Because I’m afraid I’m not good enough for you. I’ve done things I’m not proud of, Sweetheart and-” he sighs, licking his bottom lip as he breathes in. “There’s so much you don’t know.”
“There’s one thing I do know. No matter what it is, you can’t scare me away, Matt Murdock. You’re stuck with me.” You giggle, before the nerves set in again. “If you want me…”
“There’s nothing I want more.” He says with a smile, pulling you in for another kiss. “And… I love you too.”
With the biggest grin, you nuzzle back into his side. For a while you just sit there, looking at the warm glow of the flames.
Author's note: thanks college Matt ppl who enabled this without even knowing @mindidjarin @prettyeyesnof4ce @briefcasejuice
He settles back on his bed, headphones on, hands folded behind his neck after pressing 'play' on the recording.
Foggy had his Punjabi class so he had at least an hour alone. An hour alone with your voice.
He'd heard of ASMR, and how certain sound textures could have a strong stimulating effect on some people.
Listening to you read the study notes you'd taped for him shouldn't make him react this way but there was no doubt, you definitely made him feel something.
He'd been so surprised when you had offered to help with your latest assignment, and he'd tried his best to assure you he could catch up himself, but now he was so glad you had insisted.
"Hey Matty," he could picture the smile in your bright, warm greeting, and hear your slight giggle as you got over the initial embarrassment of talking to yourself, making him smile too.
He listens attentively, lips slowly pulling into a grin as you outlined your ideas and built your arguments with such inspiring passion and drive. You're so creative, sharp, and funny, and your voice, well, that was just another thing that drew him to spend more time with you. He could listen to you talk all day,
As your recording went on, Matt found he was concentrating less on what you were saying and rather more on how you were saying it. Your voice surrounded him via the headphones, the back of his brain tickled by your silky tone, and shamefully, it didn't stop there.
His mind wandered, thinking about you saying particular types of things, what you might say if you were to be in the room right now, seeing just how you affected him. His cock twitched, swelling as he found himself imagining the sounds you'd make under him.
He reaches down, palming his half-hard cock. He shouldn't be doing this but he can't help himself, he's a dirty fuck, abusing your kindness, no better than some of those sleezy jocks across campus.
He can't help it, it's only natural anyway isn't it? And besides he's not cum in over a week, too busy or in too much company to be able to relax and release. But now, with your unintentionally (?) teasing tone he's pulling up his shirt and pushing the waistband of his grey sweats down just enough, cock springing up to slap against his lower abs. He tentatively rocks his hips once or twice, a small moan partially contained in his throat as the swollen head of it rubs over his skin.
Both of his hands are down at his sides now, fingers gripping the covers that he's lying on top of as he pretends to himself that it doesn't count if he doesn't actually touch himself directly. God it feels good, no, it doesn't count if he thrusts his hips just so, over and over. He can't be overly vigorous as he knows it makes the bed creak a little, and he's paranoid that someone in the next room might hear, but not concerned enough to stop.
You sound so sweet, and he would bet what little money he had that you'd sound so incredibly sexy if you would let him touch you, let him fuck you.
His breathing quickens with every other thrust, and he's wet, a slick dribble of precum spreading from side to side as his cock rolls and slaps against his tensed belly.
F-fuck… he whispers, rutting up into the air as he listens to you swear as you try to find your place in your notes after you went off on a tangent, the pleasure increasing like a pressure pot. He bites down on his lip in an attempt to curb the moans he wants to make, hips jerking in the steady rhythm that he's found that drives his orgasm closer.
What was it you were saying? How he needs to have some confidence in his ability, that you love how much he values the power of the truth. Will you value him confessing to you about this? He's so close, he has to pretend to himself that you'd be flattered, that you'd be turned on because you feel the same way.
Oh my god. He clutches to that thought, to you catching him in this very act.
Matty, what are you doing?
Can I help?
Please, Matt, I want this…
His mouth is dry, he swallows, gasping. His feet press against the mattress as his hips fly up in ragged jolts as he fantasizes the soft plush press of your pretty chest and the tight wet heat of your cunt.
He grips onto the edges of the bed, his breath quietly shuddering in tandem with the warm, sticky stripes of cum spurting from his twitching cock landing across his exposed stomach and chest, some of it undoubtedly soaking into the hem of his shirt.
You're still talking, laughing again as he swears under his shortened breath, cock throbbing and you wrap up, saying you'll see him soon.
He rips the headphones off, still laying there. His hands are clean, he didn't touch. He grabs a towel from the nearby chair and wipes away the mess. He didn't touch.
Summary: Your daily walks in the woods takes a turn for the interesting, when you find your handsome neighbor chopping wood.
Author's notes: This is part one of a little 4 part AU I've made for Matthias that will center around the seasons.
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Warnings: Mentions of blood, other than that some pining and fluff.
Seasons may change masterlist
With another deep breath, you slowly feel the tension leave your body. The smell of the pine trees and moss invades your senses, as you breathe in the forest. You thought the silence would be deafening out here, but it’s not. All around you the forest is alive. Birds chirping, the wind rustling through the trees. You could even swear you heard a larger animal, deer perhaps, just behind the tree line earlier.
When you told people you’d move here, the reactions were mixed. Your mother was scared some animal would eat you, that you’d feel too much alone. Your publicist thought it was the best idea ever, hoping this move would spark your inspiration, so you could finally get started on your new book. You hadn’t written anything in almost a year but sitting here on the porch in front of your new home in Dexter, Maine, you had no doubt inspiration would flow.
The first few days were spent getting the house in order. You hadn’t moved everything, but enough to feel at home. The rest would come eventually. A few pictures and trinkets from your trips were scattered along the shelves, your favorite pictures on the walls, already making it seem more like your space. The final piece though and the most important, was your books. Once the last book was placed on the shelf, you back away, looking down at Röed.
“What do you think? Feels like home, huh?” you ask, squatting down to scratch the red husky behind her ears. Growling softly, you take it as a yes, leaning in to give her a soft kiss on her muzzle. “I’m just gonna put a few more things up, then we can go out, okay?”
As promised, you find yourself walking through the woods an hour later. You often catch yourself stopping, looking at the vast forest in awe. Everything is so beautiful and so quiet. Serene. You can already feel yourself letting go of all the pressure and stress from the city. And looking at Röed, you feel even better about your decision. She’s never been happier, tail wagging wildly as she chases a squirrel up a tree.
Suddenly the stillness is broken with what sounds like someone chopping wood. Further along the path, you come across a cabin. The woodwork is beautiful, the garden kept nicely, making it look like something out of a fairytale. But you would later argue with yourself that the sight in front of the cabin was even more magical. A tall man, well over six feet, is swinging an axe over his head, easily dividing the big log in two. He looks broad, his muscles flexing as he moves the logs. A bark from Röed makes him look up and you swear you stop breathing for a second, when your eyes meet.
Shit. This was so not what you needed. You came here to be in peace, not to have some tall, sexy lumberjack neighbor invading your thoughts. He puts down the axe, his eyes intense as they roam over your form. You can’t help but blush under his gaze, feeling the weight of his eyes on you. Pulling yourself together, you will yourself forward, giving him your best smile.
“Hi. You must be my neighbor. I just moved into the old Miller house.” You try, closing the distance between you and the stranger. Or giant, you realize as you get closer. He is still silent, watching you intently as you come near. “I’m y/n. What’s your name?”
You hold out your hand for him to take, but he merely looks at it before turning around, walking back to his house. With a whistle, his husky you hadn’t even seen rises from behind the log pile and follow him to the house. In the door he pauses for just a moment, his eyes meeting yours, before he turns away and disappear into the cabin.
You look down at Röed, giving her a soft pad on her head to soothe her as she lets out a soft whine. “Yeah, I know you want to pay with his dog. Another day, maybe?”. Turning back towards the path, you wonder if you did anything wrong or he’s just always that rude. Or shy, maybe? There must be a reason why a guy like him would live all the way out here. You wonder what it could be. Maybe you’d never find out.
The next month goes by slowly. Every day you try to write, but nothing ever comes out. That little black line on the paper taunting you, mocking you almost. Everyone is expecting your first draft soon. Your agent already excited for the next book tour, your publisher eagerly awaiting what’s next. Which right now, is nothing. Your mind is blank.
Well, that’s a lie. Lately you’ve been thinking a lot about your handsome neighbor. That tall, mysterious stranger you know as Helvar. The only name appearing on the mailbox. Every time you would take a walk in the woods, you’d come by his house, see him standing in the garden, working on something. Every so often he would raise his gaze, eyes finding yours. Every time you see him, you say hi, followed by a big smile. He’s usually quiet, but gradually his stoic expression slowly turning softer. One day you could even swear you saw a faint smile.
On a particularly warm autumn day, you take Röed for walk. The warm fall colors make the forest look magical, the warm rays of the sun playing over the different shades of yellow, red, and brown. You love this time of year and as the seasons change around you, you feel a change in yourself to. The urge to write was back, you just needed the right idea. When you make the next turn on the path, you stop dead in your tracks, slowly beginning to believe in a higher power, because someone certainly heard your plea.
A few meters ahead, right next to his woodpile is Helvar. He has a large log over his shoulder, lifting it like it weighs nothing. Suddenly you think how easily he could carry you. If he could toss something that big around, lifting you would be no problem at all. Just imagine how strong he must be. He could use that strength against you, pin you against the nearest tree and…
No, you should not think that way about him. Although… It could be a great idea for a story. Looking up just in time to see him take of his shirt, you feel your mouth go dry. His chest is bare, dark hairs glistening with sweat. Small rays of sunshine peak through the treetops, the light dancing over his exposed skin. His muscles flex as he picks up another log, swinging the axe. His movements almost hypnotizing and you feel yourself out of breath as he takes another swing, his pecs dancing by the force of the axe coming down over the log.
You should move, not just stand here. But the sight before you is mesmerizing. He reaches for another heavy log, bigger than the others and he lets out a grunt that goes straight to your core. You can’t tear your eyes off him, watching as another drop of sweat drips down the fair skin of his chest, slowly making its way down his stomach. Swallowing hard, you find yourself parched. You really should go.
You turn silently, trying to walk away before he sees you. Another grunt leaves his lips, causing you to look back over your shoulder. His large hands gripping the handle of the axe, tongue darting out to wet his lips, before taking another swing.
With your eyes away from the path, fixed on Helvar, you don’t notice the tree in front of you. Walking straight into the tree, you bash your head on the trunk, your nose hitting a branch. In seconds you’re on the ground, head hurting. Röed is barking, your head is spinning, and you feel a warm wetness forming on your upper lip as you lay there on the forest floor.
“Are you okay?” a deep voice asks, the accent thick. You shouldn’t be surprised when you see the voice belonging to Helvar, but you are. You would never have thought him to have a voice like that, but you think it suits him. He looks at you with a puzzled look and you realize you’ve been staring.
“Yeah, I think so.” you try to sit up, feeling lightheaded as you do. He puts a hand behind your back, holding you up as he inspects your injuries. You wipe under your nose, only to find your hand covered in blood. “Well, No. Maybe not.”
He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he cups your cheeks, his blue eyes staring into yours. You’ve never seen them this close, so you’ve never seen just how blue and beautiful they are. Feeling a blush creep up your cheeks, you look away.
“Come with me. We should get you cleaned up.” He offers with a soft smile, helping you stand. Legs still a little shaky, you have to hold onto him so you don’t fall again. He steadies you, his large frame caging you in. He holds on to you, guiding you towards the house. You try to focus on the path before you even though your eyes wander to the man beside you. Still shirtless, you blush as you catch yourself staring at his body.
He opens the door to the cabin and guides you to the kitchen. He quickly finds a wet cloth and very gently wipes the blood away. His eyes find yours and he looks away, removing the cloth, before taking a step back.
“Ehm, maybe you should…” He mutters, handing you the cloth. Silence falls between you while you do your best to clean up. You both look to the dogs, trying to sniff each other, his dog gently nudging Röed with his snout. Helvar squats down, petting both dogs.
“Beautiful girl, what’s her name?” His deep blue eyes finding yours and for a second you almost wished it was you he called beautiful, but you quickly let go of that thought.
“It’s Röed. It means-”
“Red in Fjerdan. You don’t sound Fjerdan to me.” He grins with a boyish smile, eyebrow raised as he continues to pet the dogs.
“I’m not, but she is. That’s the only Fjerdan word I know.” You say softly, petting his dog as it comes over to you. All white, he’s a huge husky and almost dwarfs Röed. His yellow eyes burn like rich amber against his white fur. He is very beautiful. “What’s his name?”
“Trassel.” He answers, smiling at the name. He notices the way you’re looking at him, probably looking like a big question mark. “It means Troublemaker.”
He smiles, looking even more beautiful than before, if its even possible. You’re curious how a tall, handsome man from Fjerda has ended up in the woods of Maine, but you’re scared to ask too many questions. Not wanting to push your luck now that you’re finally speaking to him. You wipe one last time, before putting the cloth on the table.
“Thank you. I’m normally not that clumsy, I just…” you trail off, eyeing his body. You look to the ground, hoping he didn’t notice.
“Got distracted?” He asks with a cheeky smile, as he stands back up, walking towards you. He towers over you and just the thought of how big he is sends shivers through your body. He takes the cloth and throws it in a bin under the sink, before looking at you again. You notice a soft pink creeping up his neck. So it’s not just you. Good to know.
“I should get out of your hair.” You mutter, almost falling as you stand. Mortified, you just try to laugh it off, hoping he doesn’t think you’re a complete moron. Luckily, he just seems to be smiling as he follows you out of the cabin. “But it was nice to meet you.”
You give him a big smile, before walking away, calling for Röed to follow. She reluctantly follows, wanting to stay with Trassel. Petting her softly, you give her a sideways smile “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind staying either, girl.”
Reaching the gates, you look back, only to find him still standing there. You give him a little wave, before turning away, using every single ounce of willpower to walk away.
“Hey!” You stop at his voice, turning towards him. “My name is Matthias.” He shouts, smiling at you. You return the smile, already feeling the butterflies in your stomach. All the way back to your cabin you think about Matthias, thinking how your next walk can’t come soon enough.
Arriving home, you walk straight to your computer. Your little encounter with Matthias sparked something you and you couldn’t wait to see how it would turn out.
Thank you so much for reading. Feedback and reblogs are much appreciated ♥️
Summary: Inheriting your grandmother's house, you quickly realize you need some help fixing it up. So you call a local contractor, Billy Russo.
Warnings: pining. Sooo much pining. Fluff, mentions of Billy's not so happy past, kissing, fingering, unprotected sex.
Author's note: I made for my dear @e-dubbc11 after this little thot exchange. Ericca, I know my original plan was to make it for your birthday, so I'm sorry I'm late. But here it is. I hope you love it ❤️
Oh, and I was a little self-indulgent with the best friend... ops 🤣🙈
Looking up at the old house where you’ve spent every summer as a kid, you smile to yourself. The years had been hard on the woodwork and ever since your grandmother moved to the nursery home, everything had been left untouched. Bushes growing wild, the grass so tall you could easily hide in it. But still, it felt like it always had. It felt like home and now it was yours.
The front door binds a little as you try to push it open, the smell of stale air instantly hitting you like a brick wall. Yeah, you should probably open the windows, get some fresh air in. Walking around, you notice how every surface is covered in dust, cobwebs hanging in almost every corner. This was gonna take a lot of work and you couldn’t wait to get started.
The first few days are spent cleaning. You’ve noticed a lot of damages to the house you can’t fix yourself, so you had already contacted a contractor in town, and you needed the place to look less abandoned before he would get here. The whole town may know all about your granny being away for years, but still… You couldn’t bring yourself to let strangers into a house that looked like a mess.
Monday morning, as you sit with your morning coffee on the porch, two cars pull up in front of the house. Russo Home Repairs, supposedly the best in town. He sounded nice on the phone, which was a plus, but honestly you were just happy for the help.
Walking towards the cars, you almost trip over your feet when the driver gets out. You had expected an older man, not this. A tall and very handsome dark-haired man with a smile that could make a Colgate commercial jealous. As he comes closer, you see his dark eyes match the hair.
“You must be y/n? I’m Billy Russo.” He says, politely extending his hand for you to take. You take it, hoping he doesn’t notice how flustered you already are. He probably already knows the effect he has on women, but you’re quite embarrassed at how easily he makes your heart flutter.
Behind him, two men exits the second car. Like Mr. Russo, they are so handsome you almost think your life have changed into a Danielle Steel novel. When they introduce themselves as Quinn McKenna and Matt Murdock, you make a mental note to call your friend as soon as you get back inside. She needs to hear about this.
You manage to pull yourself together long enough to show the men around the property, discussing what needs to be done. Luckily, they are well-versed in both the interior and exterior, so they’re willing to help with the house as well as the grounds. Maybe two or three months of work. Already finding it hard to focus now, you don’t even know how you’ll manage a few months. This was gonna be hard.
The buzzing of your phone pulls you out of your trance. And thank God for that, because you realize you’ve been staring at Mr. Russo for a good 10 minutes. But how can you not, when he makes tearing down a ceiling look so good? Tapping the green icon, you exhale sharply, not even trying to hide your frustration.
“It’s that bad?”
“It is. Instead of doing something useful, I’ve been staring at him for 10 minutes.” You whisper, pushing away from your little chair in the corner, walking into the next room. On the other end Lily just laughs.
“He can’t be that hot.”
“He is. They all are.” You sigh, sitting down in a corner, strategically placed so you can still watch the three gorgeous men making quick work of demolishing the living room. It should be illegal having this sinful sight before you. Tool belts hung low on their hips, making their pants slide down slightly. Their t-shirts sliding up as they raise their arms, revealing a bit of skin. Really, really good-looking skin. Looking with no shame, you follow the little happy trail down to where it disappears under the waistband. Almost whining, you turn away from them. “I need to find another contractor.”
“And not even give me a chance to see their hotness for myself? No way.” She states, the sound of fingers tapping away on her keyboard. “When you asked me to help you with the house, all I had to look forward to was mildew. So you’re not firing the hunks before I get a chance to see them.”
And as promised, you didn’t. Lily arrives a few days later and not even a minute after exiting her car, she stares at the house, mouth open wide as she slowly removes her sunglasses. You already know what caught her eye, as you glance at the porch where the men are taking a break.
“Holy shit.” Lily gasps, staring at them like you’ve done the last few weeks. “They are freaking hot!”
“Told you.” You smirk, as you gesture for her to follow you up to the house. Leaning in closer, Lily whispers under her breath. “How you’ve manged not to get water damage in your basement is beyond me, cause mine’s already flooded.” Lily moan desperately.
Unable to hold back, you burst out laughing, attracting the attention of the men. Billy’s dark eyes find yours and instantly you feel warm. Damn, a man should not hold this much power over you.
The next few days are spend trying to work. The keyword was trying. You and Lily often found yourself staring at the men instead of doing any actual work. Lily kept whispering lewd comments in your ear, causing you both to giggle like schoolgirls. The men often looked at you with knowing smiles on their faces. There was no way they didn’t know, but no one said anything.
Shared lunch became a steady ritual, most days spent together in the shadow under the big tree. Lily and Matt often sat beside each other, him with a giant smile and Lily blushing a bright pink. They were quite sweet, dancing around each other. It was only a matter of time, you thought, before you’d stumble in on them going at it in the guestroom.
You, on the other hand, only had eyes for Billy. You had tried to write if of as a simple crush, but by each passing day you felt yourself growing fonder of him. He had told you about his past, growing up in a group home and later joining the marines. But it was a hard life, so he had retired, moved to this quiet little town in Connecticut and started his company with his friends. He had been through so much, but still had a positive outlook on life. It only made you like him more.
You all fall into this casual rhythm. They’re no longer just men working here. They always seem to linger, never really eager to go home. They are all single, an information you got thanks to Lily, so some days they stayed for dinner since they didn’t have any places to go after work.
As you sit in the backyard, eating another slice of pizza that’s already turned cold, you look at Billy. The last rays of sunshine falls on his face, accentuating his beautiful features. He really is very beautiful. He doesn’t notice you looking at him, at least you don’t hope so, his eyes fixed on Quinn and Matt as they gang up on Lily, throwing her in the pool. When he laughs, he scrunches his nose ever so slightly.
You allow your eyes to wander down. There’s no harm in looking, right? His upper body is bare after his dip in the pool, small beads of water still clinging to his soft skin. You can’t help but notice the scars on his body, wondering how he got them.
“Finding anything interesting?”
You look up to find him looking at you with a soft smile. To your horror, you realize you’ve been leaning in closer, so you pull away. With a light chuckle, he turns to you, his beautiful dark eyes even darker in fading sunlight. “It’s alright. You can ask.”
“How did you get that big one?” you ask, gently tracing your finger over the scars on his right shoulder. A soft sigh from Billy makes you realize what you’re doing, so you remove your fingers quickly.
“It’s not a very pretty story.” He looks down at the scar, tracing it with his thumb. There’s a sadness in his eyes, that makes you wanna reach out, to hug him, but you’re afraid you’ll overstep.
“Yeah, I can imagine war stories aren’t pretty.” You try, leaning in a little closer. He looks at you for a moment before he clears his throat.
“I was 10. At the group home, there was this…” he pauses, huffing out a cold laugh. “Good Samaritan. A guy who was supposed to take care of us. He took a liking to me, and he tried to…”
The expression on Billy’s face tells it all. You reach out and place your hand on his. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with the ghosts of his past. Ha takes your hand in his, his thumb drawing soothing circles on the back of your had. You wonder if it’s more for his benefit than your own. You don’t say a word, silently waiting for Billy to continue.
“I managed to defend myself, but he broke my arm. Tore the rotator cuff in three places.”
“I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“It’s okay. My life didn’t turn out that bad. I mean, I ended up here.” He says with a playful smile that makes your heart flutter. “But it did destroy my chances of becoming a professional baseball player.”
“Oh, was that your big dream?”
“Absolutely. I could have been the next Joe DiMaggio.” He says confidently, puffing out his chest slightly. He looks adorable and you can’t help but giggle.
“I have no idea who that is.” You shrug apologetically, biting your bottom lip. Billy feigns being hurt, causing you to chuckle. He then excitedly tells you all about DiMaggio and as the sun sets in the horizon, minutes turn into hours as you slowly fall deeper in love with Billy.
It was one of the hottest summers in years, which turned out to be a blessing. Sure, you were warm, but so were the guys, which meant several days with them shirtless. Today was one of those days. During your break from painting the kitchen, you and Lily found yourself doing your new favourite thing: watching the men work. Their muscles playing under their sun kissed skin, the beads of sweat dripping down their toned chests.
Lily sighs beside you, her eyes fixed on Matt as he sands down a piece of wood. Occasionally he wipes off the sawdust, his hands sliding over his perfect abs.
“Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to be that piece of wood.” She whines as she stuffs another piece of candy into her mouth. You just grin, nudging her shoulder.
“Why don’t you just go talk to him?”
“Huh, says the woman who’s practically drooling over the boss boy and haven’t made a move either.” Lily shoots back. You look over at Billy, just as he takes off his shirt, wiping away the sweat from his forehead. His chest is glistening in the midday sun, muscles flexed as he carries another piece of wood over to Matt and Quinn.
You don’t even hear Lily talking to you, lost in the sight before you. As Billy reaches for a pencil, the movement makes you look at his hips and how those pants hang dangerously low, showing of his v-line. What you wouldn’t give to run your tongue over-
“Okay, that’s it. I’m gonna go distract Quinn and Matt, while you talk to Billy.”
“What? What would I even talk to him about?”
“I don’t know, but you better think quickly.” Lily blurts out, before smiling wide. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe Mr. Russo can help you.” she says with a raised voice, making Billy look up at the mentioning of his name. As you silently plan Lily’s murder, she just walks towards Matt with a giggle.
“What can I do for you, miss y/l/n?” Billy asks with a smile, as he walks closer, wiping his hands in the little cloth hanging from his toolbelt. Barely managing to tear your eyes away from his midsection, you look into his dark eyes, nervously fidgeting with your fingers.
“Uhm, was thinking that we could… uhm… fix the gazebo as well? Now that you’re here anyways.” You mumble, afraid you’re barely making sense. Relax, woman. He’s just a man. A very sexy, sweet man with a voice like velvet and eyes you could drown in.
Billy smiles softly, pointing towards where Lily is standing with Matt. “We already talked about this. Matt will fix it.”
You’re embarrassed and quite sure you’re as red as a tomato, judging by the grin on Billy’s face. Mumbling an apology, you avert his gaze, mortified. Never one to be a good liar, Lily should never have left you unsupervised.
To your surprise, Billy closes the distance between the two of you, his index finger hooking under your chin, carefully lifting your gaze to his. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
As you take in his words, you forget how to breathe, focused on how close he is too you. You can feel the heat radiating of his body, drawing you in. How easy it would be to just lean in, just a few inches.
The sound of Billy’s phone pulls you back to reality. You pull away as he reaches for the phone. Flustered, you turn towards the house, tripping over your feet in your eagerness to get into the house, into safety. At this point you don’t think it’s even possible to get redder, still you feel the heat in your cheeks, when you hear Billy chuckling softly behind you. Shit, he saw. Dammit.
Once inside, you make your way into the kitchen. “Fucking stupid. Finally getting a chance and I embarrass myself.” Burying your face in your hands, you groan in defeat. “I can never look him in the eyes again.”
“I hope you will, cause I’d hate if I never got to see those beautiful eyes of yours again.”
Turning around, you find Billy leaning against the doorframe, smiling softly, his dark eyes fixed on you. He pushes of the frame, slowly making his way over to you. Stopping a few inches from you, he puts his hands on the counter on either side of you on the counter, caging you in.
“Ever since that first day, I’ve been waiting for a chance to get you alone.” He purrs, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Maybe I should have done something sooner.”
He leans in, eyes searching yours for permission. When your lips finally meet, it takes your breath away. For a moment, all that exists is his lips against yours. His soft, perfect lips. Your entire body is on fire, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Breaking away for air, your breathing is already strained, never felt like this before.
He leans in to kiss you again, the feeling of his lips like gasoline to the fire. Unable to hold back, your hand moves up his muscular body, ending entangled in his hair. Pulling him closer, your claim his lips in another greedy kiss. Moving his hands down, he hoists you up by your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter.
Billy’s strong hands move up your thighs, pushing your dress out of the way. Leaning in, he kisses down the column of your neck, pulling sweet whimpers from you. Greedy hands roam over your body, pulling your dress down. Kissing his way down to your breast, he takes your nipple into his mouth.
“Fuck.” You moan out, throwing your head back in ecstasy. You can feel Billy smirking against your skin, sucking your nipple harder. His free hand finds your core, already soaking wet for him. Pushing one finger into your wet heat, you whimper out his name, begging for more.
“Billy, please, just… Please…” you plea desperately. Billy claims your lips in a greedy kiss, pushing another finger into you. It takes no time for you to come around his skilled fingers, burying your head in the crook of his neck to stifle your moan.
“Shh, don’t want the others to hear us.” He whispers with a grin, pulling his fingers from your cunt only to lick your slick off his long digits.
Trembling with anticipation, your fingers make quick work of his belt and zipper, pulling his pants down just enough to free his aching cock. Captivated, you watch as he fists himself, pumping his cock a few times. The muscles of his abdomen tighten with each pass of his fist, making you clench around nothing.
He lines himself up, the head of his cock grazes your slick lips, sending small bolts of pleasure through your body. Billy leans forward, his breath ghosting against your earlobe, “I've been dreaming about this.”
He kisses your neck softly, pulling soft whimpers from you. Pushing forward, his cock parts your lips with ease. He buries himself in one thrust, deep enough to make you shiver. You look into his beautiful lustblown eyes, dark like obsidian. You kiss him with unknown hunger, weeks of want poured into it. And then he starts moving, slow deep thrusts. Billy whimpers, his breath hitched, overwhelmed by the feeling of you.
Thrusting into you at a steady pace, he makes you whimper, pulling the most sinful noises from you with each drag of his delicious cock. You’re lost in the feeling of him, lost in the pleasure. Barely able to think, you can barely form a sentence.
A few more drags of his cock is all it takes, before you clamp down on him, screaming out his name as you come undone. It’s not before Billy follows, emptying himself in you, filling you up with his cum. You fall against him, both of you panting heavily.
As you both come down from your high, Billy holds you close, not wanting to let go as he plants soft kisses on your lips and neck. You stay like that for a few minutes, just savouring each other.
"Fuck. Not you guys too"
You turn to find Quinn in the doorway, his expression priceless. Clearly frustrated, he walks to the fridge and finds a beer, twisting off the cap. You try your best to cover up, the situation so weird you can't do nothing but laugh.
"It's bad enough I had to look at the lovesick puppies out there, playing tonsil tennis. And now this?!" He points at the two of you, taking a sip of his beer. "What about me?"
You and Billy can't help but chuckle as he does his best to pull away without exposing you. When you're descent he helps you down from the counter. You walk over and pat Quinn lovingly on the cheek, giggling softly.
"Don't worry. I have a friend that would love you."
"I hope so." Quinn says, as he walks out of the kitchen, sipping his beer. Billy turn to you, laughing as he cups your cheeks. Placing another soft kiss on your lips, he looks into your eyes. "Are you okay?"
"Never been better." You say with a smile, already looking forward to the rest of the summer.
Thank you so much for reading. Feedback and reblogs are much appreciated ❤️
Warnings: male masturbation, p in v, oral (male receiving, female receiving, and m/m), creampie, cum eating.
Author's note: this is just ridiculous 🤣 dedicated to @idrinkcoffeeandobsess thank you for the idea!
You're pulled into the back of Frank's van by the scruff of your jacket, clouds of reddish smoke swirling around you. "What the hell was that? Tear gas or something? Shit, eugh it tastes awful!"
Frank has his hands wrapped around your arms, looking you up and down. "Definitely not tear gas. You'd fuckin' know if it was. You alright though?"
You cough again and nod, "I'm fine, just need some water, or maybe something stronger at this rate. Did you see where they went?"
Frank shakes his head. "Couldn't see fuckin' shit out there. Red? You okay? You look like shit man."
Matt's curled up against the inside of the van, head tilted down between his knees. His hair is all ruffled and sweaty from his mask and you notice his breathing is shallow and fast.
"Matt?" You reach to touch his arm and get knocked back away from him as he scrabbles to get away from you.
He steadies himself in the corner. "Shit, I'm sorry! Please just don't, please don't touch me… I need to, need to get home."
You move back as Frank crawls into the front cab behind the wheel and starts it up.
"Okay, we're on our way. It's alright." You clear your throat again, suddenly feeling warm.
"D'you think it was some kind of pepper spray? I mean, it's not painful but I feel really hot, do you guys feel that too?"
Frank pulls at his collar. "Yeah, a bit. Figured it was just all the runnin' from those fucks."
Matt's pulling off his gloves like they're burning him. His forehead is beaded with sweat and he's shifting about uncomfortably, clawing at his suit. "Hurry up Frank, I can't stand it in here."
The three of you enter Matt's apartment via the fire escape and the roof so you don't draw any unwanted attention from the neighbours. Leather, kevlar and blood aren't the most subtle of fashions. Matt hurries awkwardly down the stairs and into his bedroom, almost ripping the door off its rollers.
You and Frank gulp down some water and you pull off your jacket before you sit on the couch. It was so fucking hot.
“No! Y-you both need to leave. Now.”
"D’ya think I should go check on him?” You start to rise but then you hear Matt’s voice, unsure and apprehensive in its tone.
“Matt, what’s wrong, did you get hit?” You pull open the door of the bedroom a little way. There’s a trail of his clothing strewn on the floor leading to the bed where he’s sat in his boxers on the opposite side facing away from you. He’s still breathing hard, his arm is trembling but you can’t see why.
“Matt, what are you-”
“Fuck! I told you to go- you can’t be here, your scent is too fucking strong, the stuff we were hit with- it’s- oh god…”
You watch open mouthed, suddenly feeling extremely heated as he leans back on the bed, and you can see his hand fisting over his cock rapidly. The dampness between your thighs suddenly increases tenfold and Matt chokes out a moan as he locks on to your scent.
“Oh…”
“Great. Fucking great.” You hear the grumble from behind you. “Been hit by a fuckin’ sex grenade.” Frank announces.
You turn towards him, suddenly very aware of just how good he smells up close, but you can't believe what the words that are coming out of his mouth. “A WHAT?! What the fuck are you actually serious? What the hell is going on?”
Matt's voice turns low. "I told you… get out, I'll- I'm gonna deal with this. Fuck! Just go!"
“Sorry Red, no-ones goin' anywhere right now. Gotta fuck it out of our system, it’s the only way. Doin' it on yer own ain't gonna work, believe me.” He starts pulling his sweat-damp shirt off over his head.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me? I don’t even… is this a real thing?" You can't believe what you're seeing, or feeling, as both Matt and Frank are looking so very delicious to you right now that your underwear is drenched to a ridiculous degree.
"Shit. How do- how the fuck do we do this?"
Frank comes up closer behind you. "Guess you're past the point of embarrassment now sweetheart, huh?" he says, helping you with your vest that you had already started peeling off.
You turn around to face him, his eyes are deep black pools that you want to dive into. And those fucking lips have no right being anywhere else but on your pussy right now.
"You've been through this before?!" you ask him, still slightly incredulous as you feel his heated gaze.
He nods, the fingers of his incredibly large hands ghosting down the side of your neck and you can't stop yourself from leaning into his touch.
"Yeah," he swallows, his eyes roving over every bit of you with a deep hunger. "The effects can only be counteracted by a different source of DNA. You can't get yourself off, has to be someone else…"
Your realise your hands are sliding down his chest, bumping over his ridged abs and vee-line towards the waistband of his black jeans, but Frank stops you with a seemingly herculean effort.
"Nah, not yet. Take care of him first," he nods at Matt who is panting heavily and whining. "he's gonna be feelin' it worst of all."
You strip off your pants, boots and underwear, crawling across the bed towards Matt. He reaches for you desperately, pulling you over him, immediately grinding against himself against your core.
"Oh fuck, I'm sorry I'm sorry, I can't stop… please, please will you… fuck you smell so fucking good-"
"I- I, I'm on birth control but do you have any-"
Frank grunts, stalking towards the bed with an extremely obvious bulge in his pants.
"Won't work sweetheart, DNA remember? Gotta be au naturel."
You nod slowly. "Fuck… okay, okay…"
"I'm clean, I'm- oh god-" Matt's quick reassurance is enough to have you taking his angry looking cock in your hand and slowly sinking down on him. His hands jump to grip onto your hips, he's practically vibrating under you, holding himself back, waiting for your permission.
"Fuck, I'm so sorry-"
"Matt," you hush him, even though you're similarly overwhelmed by the intense sensation. "you don't need to apologise, it's okay, none of this is our fault. Let me help you."
He fills you so deliciously, throbbing inside you. When you slowly start to move he groans, digging his fingers into your flesh as the fog begins to clear and he can see you laying out a path to his release.
The hot desperate itch you're feeling is being scratched so fucking good you can't help moaning aloud, your head snapping up as Frank's hand comes to the side of your face, his other palming his cock through his pants. You paw at his belt, looking up at him with wide eyes as he starts to unbuckle it, watching you ride the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.
Matt's hand curls around the back of your neck, pulling you down to press against his body, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
"Y'feel amazing," he murmurs, relaxed now, his hips now undulating up to meet yours in increasingly powerful thrusts.
Frank moves onto the bed above Matt, knees either side of his head. His fingers stroking gently down your spine gets your attention, his cock bobs inches away from your mouth, dripping precum. Your mouth drops open almost automatically and he groans deep as you move forward, swirling your tongue around his glistening tip before you take hold of his shaft and wrap your lips around him.
"Holy fucking shit." Frank's eyes start to close as the hot wet feel of your mouth is everything he's been needing since the street. He snaps them open again as he can't not watch. Your tongue teases around the head of his aching cock while you're still fucking yourself on Red, the whole scene makes him twitch and leak. You moan as you take him deeper into your mouth, stroking what you can't fit in, and he feels it right through him. Matt guides your hips so you don't have to think, too wrapped up in the tight, velvety heat of you to worry about Frank being so close, his musky scent filling his head.
You whimper as Matt picks up his pace, fucking you hard and fast, chasing his end. You feel his rough fingertips graze over your swollen bud and you groan around Frank's cock. He starts moving his hips, fucking your face and somehow it's all you need.
"Fuck baby, if I'm honest, I didn't need to be hit by that stuff to want this from you."
You pull your lips off him for a second to reply, "neither did I."
"How about you, altar boy?" Frank grills.
Matt feels up your tits as he continues to rut into you. "I want you… both." he confesses, gaining enough clarity to bring his thumb to rub over your clit as he fucks you so hard and fast you can't respond, so hard that-
"Fuck, fuck I'm gonna cum."
Matt groans in relief, hips stuttering wildly as you can almost feel him painting the inside of you as you reach your orgasm simultaneously.
He winces slightly as you climb off and pull Frank down onto the bed.
"Yeah..." He's staring, watching the cum drip down your inner thigh and can't hold back any longer, hauling you up to sit with your legs either side of his head so he can lick it up.
"Oh… oh shit," you moan as he works his mouth over you, fucking you with his tongue. Frank echoes your sentiments with a deep groan feeling him jerk under you as Matt climbs over him taking his thick cock into his mouth to suck.
Frank's got no qualms now, taking whatever you and the devil want to give him. And whatever magic Matt works with his lips, tongue and hands is translated right through from Frank's mouth to your pussy, and you're high as a kite on it. The three of you are a writhing mess of unbridled lust, easily working each other closer to purging the effects of the sex pollen.
And after it's worn off?
You don't think any of you could stop if you tried.
Note: this is made for the lovely @mindidjarin who wanted some whump for Matt. I believe her words were "I want our boy to suffer". So... ask and you shall receive 😅❤️
Words: 483
When Matt finally reaches you, you're already shivering. The warmth you once radiated slowly leaving you as the pavement is painted red. The crimson stain shines in the moonlight, as it grows bigger.
"No, no, no… please." He can smell the blood in the air, taste the sweet metal on his tongue. He doesn't have to reach for your pulse, he can already hear it slowing down.
"Call 911!" He screams at his phone. He has to get you help, you're already so cold.
Da-dum, da-dum, da-dum.
Your heartbeat is still there, the sound that's been his anchor for all these years, the sound he yearns for every single day. But it's fading.
Da-dum… da-dum… da-dum…
"No, baby. Please. Just… hang on a little longer." He begs, voice almost breaking when he feels the way you're shivering in his arms.
He yells the address to the operator, screaming for them to come and fast. He doesn't even care if they see him in his suit, you're more important. You're everything. His reason for waking up each morning.
Da-dum…… da-dum……
"Please, just… fight for me sweetheart. Just a little longer."
The operator keeps asking questions, but he doesn't listen. Nothing exists but you and you're slipping away.
"Matty… I-I love you." You're voice so weak, so small, tainted with fear.
"No, don't say it like that. Don't say it like it's goodbye."
Da-dum…
A single little weak beat. When he first heard your heart, he swore it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. The sound he would want to listen to all days from that to his last breath. The sound he sound solace in all those hard nights where he didn't know if he could keep on fighting.
The sound that was his foundation, his home. The way your heartbeat would pick up when you laughed. The way it would skip a beat when he kissed you.
Da-dum…
He pleads to the heavens, asking God not to take you from him, not to take you home. He needs you here.
Da…. Dum…
He thought there would be more time, that somehow you would always be there. He swears to God he will give anything to have you longer. He needs more time.
Da…… dum……
You're so cold, so weak. So still… Holding you closer, he pleads over and over. Don't take her from me. Please let her live.
And then…. Nothing… the faint sound of your heart is gone, leaving him in the defeaning silence.
"No… no, no, please…" he pleads, holding you closer, kissing you softly as he brushes a stray hair away from your forehead. You're limb in his arms, so cold. Desperately he listens for your heartbeat, but it's not there. Gone, like he wishes his was. He would never forget the moment when your heart stopped and his keps beating.
Life isn't measured in minutes, it's measured in heartbeats.
You don’t know what came over you, but the smack of your hand against Matt’s cheek shocks your both. Your palm burns and Matt’s mouth is open in surprise, the soft skin of his cheek already reddening. The room is silent except for your rapid breathing.
Matt turns to you, his eyes almost meeting yours as he grits his teeth. The next thing you know, his mouth is on yours, pressed together in a heated kiss. Matt bites down on your lip, enough for it to hurt, enough for that metallic taste of blood to fill your mouth.
Grunting, you bit back as hard as you can. You can almost swear you hear Matt whimper. It’s frantic after that. Matt pulling at your dress, pushing it up over your hips. Your hands fumbling with his belt, barely pushing them down, but just enough to free his already hard cock.
He presses you down, back hurting as it meets the hard surface of his desk. Pulling your panties to the side, Matt wasted no time lining himself up to your entrance, pushing in.
“Fuck sweetheart. If you hate me so much, why are you so fucking wet?” he smirks, pulling out slowly before bottoming out in you.
“Fuck you, Murdock. Fu-”
Words lost, you throw your head back against the desk as Matt fucks you harder, setting a brutal pace. He leans down, grabbing you by the neck and bends you in half, so he can claim your lips in a rough kiss, slamming his cock all the way to the hilt.
“You don’t really hate me. You hate that you want me… Isn’t that true, sweetheart?”
His lips crushes against yours, claiming them once more. His words make you clench around him. You don’t want them to be true. You don’t want him, you hate him. So you bite him again. his only response is to snap his hips forward in a brutal, unrelenting pace. It’s fast and dirty, Matt’s hips fucking into you hard, his hands gripping your hips so hard it’ll leave bruises.
You regret it the moment the words leave your lips, but you don’t have time to apologize before Matt has got you by the throat, stalking towards the wall, pushing you hard against it. “You’re such a pain in my ass, Doyle!”
“And you’re a smug bastard!” you spit back, nearly wheezing with the pressure on your throat. You struggle in his hold, gripping his wrist, trying to remove his hands. “Let me go!”
“If you calm down, I will.”
“Fuck you, Murdock.” You shout, but Matt only grunts in response. Suddenly, he rips you away from the wall by your neck, throwing you over his desk. Coughing, all air knocked out of you, you try to get up but to no avail. Matt’s strong hand is holding you down, forcing you to bend over his desk.
“Calm down, sweetheart, before this gets ugly.”
It ends as quickly as it started. You come first, moaning Matt’s name over and over, your whole body shivering. Matt is not far behind, whimpering as he buries himself deep in you, filling you with him cum.
He pulls out, his breathing heavy as he steps away from the desk. You just lay there, staring at the ceiling as you try to catch your breath, already feeling Matt’s cum drip out of you.
Matt zips himself up, running his hand through his hair as his breathing slowly comes back to normal. “I’ll go for some coffee. You better not be here when I get back.”
And with that he leaves you, naked and angry on his desk, before you can even shout back at him. “Fuck you, Murdock.” You mutter under your breath. Few people could make you mad, but Matt Murdock? He made you angry and you were looking forward to the day where you could vibe that smirk of his face.
Thank you so much for reading. Feedback and reblogs are much appreciated ❤️
Author's note: Listened to some music and wondered what it would be like if angsty sad Matt was turned into a vampire.
@itwasthereaminuteago Thank you for the help! @munsonownsmyass @mindidjarin @phoebe-danvers
»»————-————-««»»————-————-««
He hated you with the passion of a thousand burning stars and he loved you with equal force. Twin fires burning side by side in his withered heart. If his blood still coursed through his veins he was sure he would be scorched from the inside out.
You had condemned his soul to hell but somehow managed to bring down heaven and lay it at his feet. All it had taken was a kiss. And a bite. One miserable, godforsaken night when his catholic guilt had consumed him and he stumbled, lost faith for a fleeting breath. That was all it had taken. Between two beats, his life had slipped away from him forever.
He had been prepared for death. He had sought it out before many times but had always backed away from the edge just in time. But not that night. The night he met you.
You found him on the brink of death, rasping, rattling breaths, gasping for air that would not come. A broken curiosity. Deliciously helpless, the defiance still there in his features, even while his life was seeping out, running in little rivers across the sidewalk and down the drain.
He was too intriguing, too much of an enigma for you to leave to such a pathetic end.
Cold fingers ghosting across his cheek, soft lips stealing the last few living breaths from his failing lungs. He had worried then, panic rising, his heart desperately trying to beat a warning.
In the end all it took was a touch, a whisper and a promise, a moment of weakness and he surrendered, gave in to your promise to soothe his pain, his angst and his doubts.
He was tied to you for eternity now and he would gladly spend it on his knees for you.
You were his new religion, the only deity he worshipped.
When he reluctantly gives in to the endless hunger, which has taken root and spread like poison in his very soul, he looks for salvation in the sacred hollow between your thighs, tongue lapping at your core, savouring every shallow breath and the tiniest of gasps. Teeth breaks delicate skin, thick crimson drops of life spill from you as he licks and suckles at eternity all the while dancing you ever closer to a million little deaths. As you both hurtle into blissful oblivion, one fading, the other renewed, you both find heaven in each other for a mere moment but it’s enough for him to weep.
Your fallen devil. Matthew, sinner, saint, kneeling at your altar. Your broken treasure.
He is glorious in his misery, shining so bright you remember the warmth of the sun when he turns to you in adoration. But night must follow in its path and it is all the darker now that you have had a taste of golden rays. A shadow flickers over his features and the cold hatred returns, until the insatiable hunger for your essence has him crawling back to drink from your sacred chalice.
Aaah thank you! ☺️ And yes I agree about vampire matt is underrated, I wasn't that into it myself until it clicked for me with the angsty self-hatred angle. He makes the perfect tortured lil vampire.
