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HI ITS ME I JUST SENT IN THE REQUEST FOR TYLER OWENS i just wanna say if you decide to write it, then thank you in advance 🥰💕 but if not, no worries!! i just want u to know that your blog is great and i truly hope you enjoy writing these things because we love reading them <3

posting it later today! ♡

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I am here as a humble THUYW monger; Now we know there’s no like, love or anything involved here, obviously the boys have to like her enough to want her around this consistently but I digress. The rumor pops up, maybe it’s from the rival frat, maybe a sorority (a vague sorority because Natasha Romanoff would NEVER let that shit fly.) that reader’s been passed around like a bad hat at Alpha and she’s so upset because yeah sure it isn’t FALSE but our precious little nugget doesn’t want to get slut shamed so now the boys have to nip this in the bud because she’s trying to avoid them so that it dies off (what they do? Who knows, but you KNOW they’ll let her know it’s taken care of so they get all the grateful dick sucking and hole using they want)

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hii can I send you an emoji and be that anon?? it would be this one 🕸

of course! i've already got a few emoji anons, they're listed at the bottom of this post

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With the scream masks and Steve and Bucky you should do a chasing sequence with them and chasing y/n around the propriety.

picture it: you're a scaredy cat and hate horror movies, so naturally you haven't seen any of the scream franchise, but then one october night, the boys invite you over for a movie night and you first find out that its the first of the films when it starts playing. by then its too late, they tell you to be a big girl and watch the movie, even pry away your hands when you try to cover your eyes... and then after the movie is done, when you think your finally free from the nightmare fluel, steve and bucky pop out in the ghostface gear, scare the living crap out of you, and chase you around the entire propriety while the rest of the boys just stand by and laugh

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Hello ! I hope you're doing well :)

I just re-read the last chapter of THUYW (👌🏼💖 btw) and I wondered if you could elaborate on the whole president ceremony stuff they do in the basement 🥹. If you're interested, you can write it however you want but here's an inspiration if you need it : i'm pretty sure they filmed it because they are who they are and one of them could send it to the reader and she would watch all the filth Ari did (I love this man).

Anyway, write it if you're interested, no pressure of course.

Have a nice day 🌟 and i hope your pillow stay cold on both sides.

okay, okay, okay. WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS! 

first of all, the way that i gasped when i read that idea about it being recorded! omg, your brain is delicious! 

and second of all, i have a lot of little thoughts about it, but they're pretty hazy, plus i'd love to hear other people's thoughts and ideas, you know, let's brainstorm a bit together!

so, here are the thoughts currently scribbled down in my notes:

the only way it's been officially described in the au is that it's in the basement and “the ceremony they held each time a new president of the frat had to earn his crown.”

now that could mean many many different things....

maybe it involves one or multiple call girls

maybe it's a she's all that situation where the other guys challenge him to make the biggest loser in the school the new campus hottie

or maybe (this is low key a mix of many other ideas i had) it's a bigger checklist that he has to get through...

okay, picture it:

a twist on something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.

something old = a professor

something new = a freshman

something borrowed = steal someone's girl

something blue = blue ball'ing it. he can't cum for a certain amount of time, even though he still has to be a compleate and utter hoe, he just has to pull out and stop every time.

maybe the others are the ones to pick out someone in each category for him to seduce.

another idea i had scribbled down had something to do with a very extreme marathon of an orgy that he had to endure

it could have a dark twist or it could be just hoes being hoes

there's also another idea... it's a ritual... sooooo maybe they're like "omg, we need some virgin blood as a sacrifice or whatever," and so he has to find a virgin, bang her, and if there isn't any dramatic blood as if this was a fair maiden a thousand years ago, then they gotta go find a new one. oops, or maybe it's an orgy because one drop isn't enough.... idk, could be dark, could be delisious...

but also that idea about recording it? yeeeesssss!! that has to be woven into it. maybe every single step has to be documented, every receipt saved, because it's tradition

what do you think? this is just to get the ball rolling, i wanna hear all of your thoughts! maybe we could do some polls or something to figure out this very important and slutty lore

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don't mind me, now i'm just gonna be thinking about hotel sex with frank for the rest of the day, WOOF....

sweating your ass off in your tiny apartment with frank. it's a horrible heatwave, the ac is broken, you're both just lying on the kitchen floor in your underwear, completely melted from the heat.

as someone who lives in a place that feels like hell ten months out of the year I absolutely hate the heat and I don't know if frank's presence could even make it tolerable lmao

but getting to see him half naked and sweaty as a result is a good compensation I think 😌

heat wave.

“You know, when I moved to a place called ‘Hell’s Kitchen’, I didn’t expect it to actually feel like hell.”

Miserable didn’t even begin to describe the current situation. New York was currently experiencing an unprecedented heat wave, and on top of that, the A/C had gone out trying to combat the outside temperature. You and Frank had stripped down to lie on the kitchen floor half an hour ago, because it was the only surface that was cool, but that relief lasted about sixty seconds before your body heat chased it away.

Both of you were slick with sweat, and when you went to move your arm away from your side, it glided right across the floor.

“You think this is bad, try bein’ in the desert in full combat-”

“Frank, shut up. Now’s not the time to compare suffering.”

Beside you, a deep chuckle rumbled in Frank’s chest.

“Just sayin’ it could be worse, sweetheart.”

He ran his hand through his damp curls, pushing away the sweaty strands that had been stuck to his forehead.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could stand this. Frank had cracked open the windows, but there wasn’t even a breeze, and it just made the air feel more humid, so he’d shut them again not even ten minutes later. There was no ice left in the freezer, no more popsicles, and no time frame on when the maintenance guy would be by to fix the unit since everyone in your building was having the same problem. 

After a few moments of silence, Frank turned his head to look at you.

“How ‘bout we go get some ice cream, yeah?”

Turning to look at him, a soft frown tugged down the edges of your mouth.

“You want me to go outside? Where it’s even hotter?”

“There’s that place down the block. Ain’t a far walk.”

“Yeah, but then what? We don’t know how long it’s gonna take to get the A/C fixed.”

Letting out a deep sigh, you rubbed her sweaty palms down your slick face, grimacing at the heat of your own skin and the amount of salty moisture on your body. Frank seemed to think over your point before he turned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow.

“We could get a hotel.”

A hotel. Why the hell hadn’t you thought of that? Your eyes immediately snapped open, and you turned your head to look at him.

“Really?”

Frank let out an amused chuckle at your reaction, reaching out to brush one of your damp strands of hair away from your face.

“Yeah. We can take a cold shower, pack a bag, and go stay somewhere else for a few days. Somewhere with workin’ A/C ‘til ours gets fixed.”

A cold shower sounded so good, but a hotel room with working A/C sounded heavenly. A grin stretched across your lips as you mirrored his position, turning on your side to face him.

“Can we get room service?”

Frank arched one of his dark brows.

“What, hotel room means you’re too good for take out now?”

A laugh escaped you at the look of faux annoyance on his face and the evident sass in his voice.

“C’mon, we can treat it like a staycation. Nice room, big comfy bed, room service, as little clothing as possible…”

Frank smirked hearing the sultry tease in your voice as you tried to convince him, like he wasn’t gonna do whatever you wanted to begin with. He leaned in to brush his nose against yours and gave your waist a playful squeeze.

“Shoulda led with that last part, sweetheart.”

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the deal

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: dimitri's revelation about the red right hand leaves matt and y/n unsettled for different reasons.

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood & violence, mentions of drugs, mentions of trafficking & prostitution

word count: 3.9k

a/n: get comfy, bc this is a jam packed chapter. lots of things going on in this one. but it is...dressing up the next chapter, if you will. ;) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [next chapter coming soon] | [series masterlist]

Matt stood with his back against the wall in one of the conference rooms at S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters. The privacy tint on the glass windows had been activated, preventing outsiders passing by from being able to see inside. He held the handle of his cane in both of his hands, alternating between a tight grip and a loose hold. With his heightened senses, he’d been tracking a familiar heartbeat, and the scent of spiced vanilla and jasmine grew stronger with each floor the elevator descended.

As soon as he heard the electronic bell of arrival, and the mechanical whirring of the doors opening, he stood up straighter. He had to time this perfectly. Dimitri was grumbling in Russian, his arm that wasn’t broken yanking futilely at the metal cuff that was locked around the arm of the wheelchair, the only restraint needed in his current physical state.

Matt waited until they were about a foot away before putting the plan into action. Opening the door of the conference room, he stepped out, turning to face the interior of the room like he was speaking to someone inside.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Tarasov. I’ll get this over to the D.A. right away.”

He made a show of holding up the file in his hand before flashing the empty room a charming smile, and then pulled the door shut right before she passed by with Dimitri, who reacted exactly as she’d anticipated. 

At the mention of Tarasov’s name, Dimitri instantly stopped tugging at the handcuff and his head snapped up, a mixture of disorientation and confusion settling over his features.

“You, blind man!”

Matt paused, turning his head towards Dimitri’s voice, his dark brows raising above the browline of his sunglasses while he projected a carefully crafted look of perplexed innocence.

“Pardon?”

“Quit bothering the staff, Dimi.”

She continued to wheel him past Matt, making sure to sound bored and annoyed. Dimitri reached down with his uninjured hand to grab the wheel of the chair, effectively stopping them in the middle of the hallway.

“You, devil woman, go to hell. You, blind man, you say name Tarasov. Why?”

Matt flashed his best apologetic smile as he reached up to adjust his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose.

“I apologize, I’m afraid I can’t answer that. Client-attorney privilege prevents me from being able to disclose any details that would violate the confidentiality agreement.” 

Dimitri went rigid at that, and Matt could hear the uptick in his heart’s rhythm, beginning to pound harder in his fractured ribcage. He could sense the way his body temperature began to rise as anger spread through his bloodstream like a toxic infection, resulting in the side effects they’d been hoping for. Dimitri’s top lip curled in a snarl, and he spoke through gritted teeth.

“You are lawyer?”

“Oh don’t sound so surprised, Dimi. Surely you weren’t naive enough to think you were anything other than expendable." 

Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned against the wall casually, arching one of her brows in a silent sign of a challenge while she spoke to Dimitri in that taunting tone. He was taking the bait. If they stuck to the plan, he would crack.

Dimitri looked between her and Matt suspiciously, but she could see the doubt that splintered his facade, as well as the dark storm brewing in his eyes at the idea of being betrayed. 

“This is trick.”

“No, this is your one way ticket back to Serbia.”

Matt caught the way his heart’s rhythm faintly faltered. It was working. They had managed to put a crack in Dimitri’s trust, and it was starting to branch like fractured glass the more pressure they applied.

“Tarasov would not rat-”

“Tarasov does what Constantin tells him to.”

Not wanting to lose momentum, she took a step forward, keeping her eyes locked on Dimitri while speaking calmly.

“You were a means to an end, a pawn to move around the board. And even if you hadn’t been careless and gotten yourself caught, you were always going to be a loose end, Dimi. Constantin and Tarasov, they’re the real players, but you, you were never anything more than an obedient little errand boy they kept sated with drugs and women and money.”

Matt tensed up as she leaned down to get in Dimitri’s face. He clenched his fist at his side, angling his body towards them, preparing to intervene if Dimitri snapped. Placing her hands on the arms of the wheelchair, she bent down until she was eye level with Dimitri, her voice eerily calm but with a sharp edge.

“Their loyalty was never to you.” 

Without another word, she stood up straight and rounded the wheelchair, grabbing the handles to continue pushing him down the hall. Matt had insisted on not presenting the opportunity to Dimitri to flip. He knew it would sell the idea that Dimitri’s fate was set in stone, and that S.H.I.E.L.D. had no use for him. That anger would turn to desperation. The same kind of desperation that could drive a man to break his own foot just to use one of his own bones and kill a guard to escape a prison he’d rather die than return to.

Matt knew Dimitri was egotistical enough to believe that he’d be outsmarting everyone if they let him think flipping was his own idea, but not smart enough to figure out he was being played.

They didn’t get far before Dimitri reached down to grab the wheel again, and there was an undercurrent of panic in his voice.

“Wait.”

Matt listened to the way Dimitri ground his teeth, the joints of his mandible creaking as he clenched his jaw tightly. Turning his head to glare at Matt, his voice was dripping with disdain, but also firm resolve.

“I will make deal.”

Matt had to fight to hold back his smirk, feeling a rush of victorious adrenaline that made it difficult to stand still. Finally, after months and months of dead ends, a real lead was within his grasp. Clearing his throat, he shifted from one foot to the other, pretending to look confused and unsure, his head subtly tilting in the direction of the conference room.

“Uh…I’m…I’m not sure I can-”

“Whatever he gave you, I give you more.”

Since Matt wasn’t “allowed” to discuss the details of the deal, she stepped in to tag team the deception.

“He’s giving us one of the families.”

Dimitri let out a humorless laugh that rumbled deep in his bruised chest, turning his head to look up at her over his shoulder.

“One? I give you all five.”

A subtle smirk tugged at the edge of her lips when she looked down at Dimitri, cocking her head to the side and arching one of her brows.

“You know immunity is off the table.”

“I will not go back to that hell hole.”

Dimitri stubbornly argued, making that condition clear. With a faint shrug, he pursed his lips.

“Put me in rich people prison.”

After a beat of silence, he looked up at her again with a wicked grin.

“And keep pain killers coming.”

»»———　　———««

“Please state your name for the record.”

Matt had his hands folded in front of him as he sat across from Dimitri at the long conference table, an open folder with a stack of Braille documents in front of him. She sat to his right with her arms folded across her chest, leaning back casually.

“Dimitri Sokolov.”

“And what is your relation to Mr. Tarasov?”

“I work for Tarasov for years. I am driver and enforcer.”

Matt titled his head to the side slightly.

“Enforcer?”

“Tarasov has problem, I handle problem.”

Dimitri spoke casually with a faint shrug. Matt let out a quiet scoff and leaned forward slightly.

“I’m going to need you to be more specific, Mr. Sokolov.”

“You want five families, yes?”

Even though she appeared to be sitting calmly beside him, Matt noticed the way her index finger subtly tapped against her arm, a telltale sign of impatience, but also…anxiety? He wasn’t sure why any of this would make her anxious, but the scent of cortisol in her body while faint was undeniably present, and her heart rate was slightly quicker than what it should be at rest.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Dimitri glanced around the meeting room, letting out a dry scoff.

“So, this is where he was. He text me few days ago he have last minute business outside country. Fucking rat was here whole time.”

He angrily spit at the ground. Matt subtly tilted his head in her direction. When she’d told him about the lead with the address, she’d said it came from Tarasov’s burner phone. He wondered if she used it to lie to Dimitri to explain Tarasov’s absence since he’d been in S.H.I.E.L.D. custody since the night at the docks when she put a bullet in his knee.

Suddenly something clicked, and it made him want to scoff. He thought they had gone after Dimitri last night to get intel out of him since Tarasov wouldn’t talk. But once again, she’d left him in the dark. Tarasov was a decoy, Constantin was the real prize. That’s why she’d planted the seed that Constantin made Tarasov turn on Dimitri. She wanted Dimitri furious enough at Constantin that he'd give him up.

Whatever thin thread of trust he’d woven with her was snapped by his frustration. It had been a futile attempt. There was no trusting a goddamn spy. Matt wasn’t going to make that same mistake twice.

“Which one did Tarasov give up?”

Dimitri tilted his head to the side, the curiosity evident in his voice. Matt faltered for a moment, not expecting him to ask that, but he quickly recovered by clearing his throat and offering a smooth lie.

“I’m afraid I can’t discuss-”

“Does not matter. You can’t have one without other.”

A furrow of confusion nestled between Matt’s brows, and he leaned in a little closer.

“What do you mean by that?”

Dimitri made a show of bringing his hands together and interlocking his fingers, as much as he could with the cast on his arm.

“They are connected. All play a part. Krasnaya Pravaya Ruka supply product-”

“People. Not product. People.”

Matt was caught off guard by the barely restrained anger in her voice. He could practically feel it radiating from her. Dimitri just shrugged nonchalantly in response.

“In our business, people are product, among other things. As I was saying, we provide product. Gnuccis provide drugs. Shipments come and go at Red Hook Pier. The Triad own Red Hook Pier.”

“Let me guess, they pay off enough people in law enforcement that they look the other way.”

Matt clenched his jaw in aggravation. Leave it to the very people employed to protect this city to aid in its destruction for the right price. 

“No deal needed. Red Hook Pier is free port, exempt from U.S. jurisdiction.”

Matt was visibly caught off guard by that revelation. A free port exempt from U.S. jurisdiction? Since when? How the hell did he not know that?

“Product is stored at different commercial properties owned by Yazkua.”

“Yakuza?”

“They have many shell companies all over world, in many markets. They move money around, launder through bank they own, use it to buy properties from Tarasov.”

Matt thought he’d forced all of the Yakuza out of the city after dealing with Fisk. He hadn’t had any suspicion they were still around. Had they just been hiding this whole time?

“Carbones own many nightclubs. They are front to deal drugs, this I assume you know. But exclusive area downstairs is where money is made. Politicians, CEOs, Wall Street types, lazy heirs to generational wealth, they come for the real product.”

Matt felt an icy sense of dread trickle down his spine, making him sit up straight, and a stone of nausea started to sink in his stomach. Before he could even ask, she spoke up beside him, her tone even but laced with rage.

“The women.”

“Pleasure is good business. Very profitable. And the girls get a cut, we aren’t total monsters. They can buy their freedom-”

“The freedom you stole from them. You kidnap them and sell them to the highest bidder, force them into prostitution, and you think giving them pennies on the dollar along with an illusion of a light at the end of the tunnel diminishes what you are?”

“Hey, I am just obedient errand boy, remember?”

Dimitri mocked her by throwing her previous insult back at her, raising his hands in a faux show of surrender, a taunting smirk on his mouth. 

Under the table, Matt was clenching his fists so tightly he was starting to lose feeling in his fingers. It took everything in him not to reach across the table and grab Dimitri by the back of his neck, wanting nothing more than to smash his face into the table until the cartilage in his nose was reduced to nothing and his teeth and blood created a morbid mosaic on the polished wood.

“Anyway, Gnucci provide drugs, but also protection to Carbone nightclubs and Yakuza properties. We all share profit from business, and business does not work unless we all play nice.”

“And how exactly did Constantin get everyone to play nice? A few months ago, you all wanted each other’s heads. Now, you hang out every week playing poker like old friends. What changed?”

Matt had been trying to figure out that exact question for months. It didn’t make any sense. The five most powerful families left in New York in the wake of Fisk’s absence stopped fighting for the throne almost overnight and became a united front instead. That was not a simple feat. Not all egos could be satiated with a generous pay cut. Getting them all to share power either came from a lot of influence, or a big threat. Perhaps even both.

As her question hung between them in the air, Matt’s body was almost vibrating with anticipation to finally hear the answer to this mystery that had haunted him.

“Constantin is puppet.”

Dimitri spit out the man’s name with pure acidity, the bitter betrayal still burning in his veins. But his answer left Matt feeling more confused than satisfied. Creases of confusion settled in his forehead as his mind began to swirl with implications of what those words meant.

“Wait, are you saying someone else is pulling the strings?”

Dimitri let out a deep thunderous chuckle, shaking his head in amusement.

“Constantin is only leader on paper.”

Uncrossing her arms, she leaned forward as her brows furrowed in annoyed puzzlement.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Krasnaya Pravaya Ruka is just one piece. It is head of operation in New York, but there are others.”

“Others where.”

As much as she was trying to keep her composed facade, Matt didn’t miss how she grit those words out. The way she was perched in her chair made him think she was about to lunge across the table too. He almost wanted her to. Hell, he’d even stand by if she wanted to put a bullet in this asshole’s kneecap. Dimitri gave a careless wave of his hand and pursed his lips.

“Everywhere. All over country, all over world.”

“Wait, this is happening internationally?”

Matt was in complete disbelief. He never anticipated this being any bigger than New York.

“Not five families, but other pieces to Krasnaya Pravya Ruka, yes. New York is small part of bigger operation.”

Matt had a million questions, but his attention was captured by the words that came out of her mouth next.

“Who’s pulling the strings.”

There was an unmistakable undercurrent of apprehension in her voice, and her body language was full of unease. 

“Ah, the puppet master. I do not know his name, just what they call him.”

Dimitri had a smug smile, clearly pleased that he knew far more than they did. Over the years of being a driver and enforcer, he’d gathered a lot of information he was now using to his advantage.

“отец.”

Beside him, he felt her instantly stiffen, heard the sharp breath she inhaled through her nose and the crescendo in her heart’s rhythm. Whatever that word meant, it made him witness her exhibit an emotion he didn’t think she was capable of.

Fear.

She was clenching her hands so tight in her lap, he could sense the way she dug her nails deeply into the skin of her palm, her nails nearly piercing the skin and drawing blood. She didn’t even flinch. 

“The operation is his. He gives orders. As long as he gets his half of product, five families are protected.”

Matt instinctively reached out his hand under the table to subtly grasp her wrist to deter her from the self affliction. He felt her tense further at his unexpected touch, but then she slowly decreased the pressure of her grip, and her nails became less embedded in her flesh, leaving deep crescent shaped indents behind.

Taking a moment to compose himself, Matt cleared his throat as he let go of her wrist and pulled his hand away under the table. He needed to wrap this up so he could talk to her alone. He needed to know what had her so unsettled. She knew something, something she wasn’t telling him.

“We need evidence. Tarasov already made a deal. If the D.A. is going to grant yours over his, they need something solid.”

“The real estate company owned by Tarasov is front. In his office, he has file on each family. Photos, ledgers, paper trail-”

“Blackmail.”

“Insurance policy of sorts. If one family decides not to play nice, Constantin turns file over to отец, strings are pulled, family is eliminated down to last drop in bloodline.”

“He deals with him directly?”

Dimitri shrugged and leaned back in his chair as he looked over at her.

“Don’t know.”

“Where does Tarasov keep these files?”

“Above my paygrade.”

Matt clenched his jaw in annoyance, his nostrils subtly flaring as the urge to reach across the table arose even stronger.

“Now, about my deal…along with reduced sentence in fancy prison, I want room with view.”

»»———　　———««

Before she could even take a step down the hall, Matt reached out to grab her wrist in a firm but gentle way, keeping her in place.

“You know something.”

He could feel her hesitation like a physical thing, and he sensed her eyes darting around the hallway. She was always vigilant, but this was different, and her being unsettled made him feel uneasy in a way he couldn’t explain.

“I have a hunch.”

“That word that he said, what he called him, what does it mean?”

“Father.”

Matt’s perplexity was written all over his face as he tilted his head slightly to the side.

“Father?”

“It’s a moniker. A way to protect his identity. If no one working for him knows his real name-”

“He can’t be identified and incriminated.”

Matt let out a dry scoff, placing his right hand on his hip as he tapped the bottom of his cane on the floor twice with a sharp exhale through his nose.

“Yeah, Fisk did the same thing.”

“But Fisk eventually came out of the shadows. This guy isn’t going to.”

Something about the certainty in her tone made Matt’s ears perk up, and he focused his heightened senses on her, trying to decipher any clues she may be subconsciously giving away. But she’d already composed herself back to her usual calm and collected demeanor, like she’d flipped some internal switch. It was intriguing how seamlessly she could do that, but also maddening.

Taking a step closer, he dropped his voice to an accusatory whisper.

“How do you know all of this?”

He felt the moment her eyes locked on him, how they wandered down the length of his figure and then back up again, like she was studying him as much as he was studying her. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, but instead of feeling discomposed he felt…warm. He tightened his grip on his cane as the edge of her lips curved into that signature smirk of hers.

“Women’s intuition.”

Matt rolled his eyes and let his head drop between his shoulders with a frustrated exhale leaving his nose. 

“Great, we’re back to that huh?”

Feeling a sudden vibration in his pocket against his thigh, the automated voice on Matt’s phone alerted him of an incoming call and repeated the name on the caller ID.

Foggy. Foggy. Foggy.

Reaching into his pocket, Matt pressed the bottom volume button to silence the voice, and then he brushed his fingers over his watch to check what time it was.

“Shit. I forgot we had a deposition today. I can tell him to do it without me-”

“No, it’s okay. Go ahead. I need to go talk to Fury anyway.”

His expression must have given away his inner thoughts, because she let out a quiet sigh and glanced around the hallway.

“Look, I don’t know if I’m right, okay? And if I’m wrong, I really don’t want to get into it. Let me just…see how much of what Dimitri said is bullshit, and find an address for Tarasov’s office.”

“And if none of it is bullshit?”

The silence was louder than any answer she could’ve given. Taking a few steps backwards, she kept her eyes on him.

“I’ll let you know when I have something.”

Matt stayed rooted in place as she disappeared down the hall into the elevator. He was tempted to follow her up, to listen in on her conversation with Fury, try and get some answers to all the new questions he had, but his phone began to incessantly buzz again, making him sigh.

He’d made Foggy a promise, and Karen. He said he’d try. He said he’d be more present. He wouldn’t let Daredevil consume him. He would devote more time and effort to just being Matt Murdock. And he had been trying, God, he really had. But his balancing act had gotten more complicated ever since she showed up and tipped his scales, and subsequently flipped his life upside down. 

This wasn’t just taking down petty thugs and criminals in alleys anymore. This was potentially an international empire that was cunning and careful enough to avoid S.H.I.E.L.D.’s radar. 

Matt couldn’t focus on balance when he felt so out of his depth, as though neither half of him could truly handle what they might be up against. These weren’t even super powered villains. They didn’t come out of the sky or from another realm or out of a test tube. They were flesh and blood, just like him. 

He knew better than anyone that sometimes the Devil was no match for man. Sometimes even the Devil could lose.

And that’s what he was afraid of.

tags: @the-swift-escape @lambmurdock @lunakkey @Lfdybadgirlsdiw @devilmurdock64 @moonyinthestars @suits-and-smirks @day-dreaming-goddess @natashasotherhalf @rebel13lion39 @pixelfaery @ebsmind @mattmurdocksscars @ahhhhhhhydbhdg @ayupcap @thepassionatereader @awenthealchemist @zomtart @superrbffun @buckypops @snicksbabe @redroomproperty @angel113431 @18raven @a-sunflower-in-bloom @shadypaperwitch @lizziela @givemylovetoall @dreadfulxives18 @jjprxntiss @bigratbitchsworld @s1xthirty @daisy-the-quake @raven18 @hipwell @scorpiovelaryon @yiiiikesmish @mel-thefrog @ponyosmom35 @daisydark @xoxabs88xox @punkshyteee @abbyhaslongshorts @wolvierinee @snowflames-world @yomnajir @fries11 @groovycass

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[thyme-in-a-bubble]

not everyone deserves your kindness

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Make Me Choose | @softasawhisper asked Steve's bitchy hands on hips pose or Steve pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Steve "Physical Touch" Harrington

+ bonuses: robin caring about her dingus through physical touch

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

august

a summer in dunbrook, part three

a/n: and to close it all off, let them have a horny camping trip. it's what they deserve.

summary: once you’d reached your spot, set up the tent and the stars were all twinkling in the sky, you and Frank savoured the mild summer evening sitting by the campfire where your fluffy ball of fur had also found a comfortable corner. 

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, sequel to lilac, smut, lumberjack AU, camping, roasting marshmallows, kissing, size kink, dirty talk, oral, manhandling, hair pulling, impact play, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (because this is just porn. no one is getting pregnant, I’m just craving the intimacy. let them be hoes and live out the fantasy)

word count: 3121

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“All I’m saying is that maybe we wait just one more day before we go home,” Frank said as he slammed the car door shut behind him. 

Readjusting your grip on Enzo’s leash, you blinked up at Frank as he tugged on the big backpack stuffed with supplies. 

“One more day?” you cocked a brow, “you just feel like camping one day more than we planned? Making the trip just that little bit longer so that you–, oh yeah, so that you miss the summer barbeque that you’ve been acting like a toddler about.” 

“I haven’t been–,” he scoffed, though swiftly dropped it with a heavy huff, “look, is it really that bad that I’d rather spend my time with you and Enzo than sit through hours of small talk?” he pleaded as you began to tread away from the parked vehicle, through the wilderness you’d arrived at. 

“No, but I don’t wanna miss it,” you said. Letting out a sigh, you took a step closer to him and caught his wide palm, “look, you don’t have to come along if it’s really that terrible,” your fingers offered his a squeeze to underline your statement, “I love you, I’m not gonna force you.”

Glancing over at you, he caught your eye and offered you the faintest of smiles, “thank you.”

“But,” you stretched out the vowel as if you were blowing a piece of bubble gum, “I’m just saying that you might regret it, you might miss some really fun shenanigans.” 

“Yeah,” he huffed in response, “I bet.”

“Hey, I know he didn’t last year, but I’m crossing my fingers that this year, Otto gets super drunk on Donna’s punch again and starts thinking he’s a drag queen. I know he’s the sheriff, but he can really get put on a good show when the mood strikes and he thinks he’s twenty again.” 

Once you’d reached your spot, set up the tent and the stars were all twinkling in the sky, you and Frank savoured the mild summer evening sitting by the campfire where your fluffy ball of fur had also found a comfortable corner. 

“Oh,” you then suddenly stirred from your trance-like state, ripping your stare away from the flames, “I almost forgot!”

Scrambling off the stout log you’d used to sit on, you ripped open the flap of the tent directly behind you and crawled inside. 

Glancing over his shoulder, half with an amused grin and half checking out your ass, Frank watched as you tore open the backpack and fished out an item. 

Hiding it behind your spine, you didn’t reveal it before you’d returned to your seat. 

“Tada!” you presented your contribution to the camping trip. 

“Marshmallows,” Frank couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. 

“You have to! You simply have to,” you declared as you ripped the plastic open. 

As you let yourself munch on one straight out of the bag, you watched as Frank picked up a few suitable twigs from the forest floor below, fished a swiss army knife out of his pocket and prepped them into the perfect utensils for the job.

The art of roasting marshmallows was something you’d perfected as a child. Getting them just right so that their outer shell got completely caramelised and golden brown, while the entire innards were rendered a sweet gooey mess. 

That fine skill was sadly not something Frank possessed, or perhaps cared about as deeply as you did. It nearly shocked you to horrors to watch him burn the little candy till it looked like a lump of coal, only to eat it without a care in the world as if it hadn’t been utterly ruined. 

So in order to prove to him just how wrong he was in his indifference, just how good they could be when done just right, you roasted him one to the utmost perfection.

“Alright,” you uttered when you retracted the stick from the flames. Carefully pulling it off the widdled twig, you held it out for him, though noted just before he enclosed his mouth around it, “careful, it’s hot.” 

As you studied his expression for traces of your victory, you popped your sticky fingers in your mouth, licking them clean one by one. 

Frank however also seemed to gaze back at you, though the heated stare that traced your innocent digits flew completely over your head as that wasn’t what you so intently were searching for. 

“So?” you impatiently poked in between cleaning the sugar off of your skin, “how is it?”

Swallowing the treat, he then hummed, “yeah, it’s good,” his eyes still glued to you. 

“Just good?” you cocked your head, “not amazing, incredible, your life will never be the same?” you listed off and then finally noticed just how intense his stare was, “what?” your voice seemed to shrink as you dropped the jest, “do I have some on my face?”

“No…” he shook his head lightly as one of your palms shot up to wipe the corner of your mouth. 

“Then what is it? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I just love you, is all,” he breathed, “you’re very cute,” his soft smirk grew wider as he then added, “especially when you don’t realise the dirty things you do.”

A giggle then erupted from your lungs, “what did I do?” and continued to bubble out of you even as he began to lean in, “what?” 

But instead of filling you in, he simply pressed his lips to yours. 

It was soft at first, peppering you with pecks as your laughter slowly faded away. But then when your chuckling had come to a close and no longer vibrated against his lips, he let go of his gentleness and gave in to the desire that was about to burst. 

Slipping his tongue past your lips, a low groan flowed from him and melted against yours as they danced against one another. His broad palm only stayed on your cheek a moment longer before it soared down your frame, his other hand too joining in the exploration of your curves. 

You nearly couldn’t keep track of his touch as it wandered wildly, grabbing at every place that made you all tingly inside. Though, at one point when you thought you might fall off your makeshift seat, you actually did, or rather, Frank’s grasp slid down to your bottom and scooped you closer, so close in fact that you now found yourself half kneeling on the forest floor, between his thick thighs where he remained seated, and arching up to keep your lips still attached.

As one of his hands reconnected with your heated cheek, he withdrew ever so slightly as a groan left his throat, “god, I wanna fuck you…”

The gravel in his tone shot straight down between your legs and made you whimper, “please.”

After he seized your lips once more, the hand on the side of your face slid further up and disappeared into your hair. When his fist soon enclosed around the roots of your locks at the nape of your neck, a purr poured out of you, one he briefly paused the kiss to relish hearing. 

His other palm still grazed over your clothing, petting you so passionately that you expected on bated breath for him to rip your attire off. 

But he didn’t. 

Instead, right when he pinched your nipple through your shirt, his fingers didn’t move to pop open the row of buttons. 

Pulling back from the heated kiss, he maintained your face so close to his that his prominent nose pressed against your cheek. 

“Take this off,” he commanded in a gravelly tone, faintly gesturing to your shirt before his hand floated up to join his other if your hair. 

As you scrambled to do so, hazy with lust, you tried to tilt your chin to capture his lips, but the grip he had on you caused each of your attempts to fail as he denied you another taste. 

Once your button-up tumbled to the ground, he rose to his feet, lifting you with him, before one of his hands briefly let go to gesture to the shorts that hung from your hips, “these as well.”  

It wasn’t till they too fell to the dirt that Frank finally kissed you again, or to be more accurate, nearly devoured you. 

Your fingers tangled in his flannel for purchase as he scooped your body even closer to his. When you felt the palpable tent in his pants press up against your stomach, your right hand had a mind of its own and slid down to graze and teasingly rub him through his clothing. 

“Fuck…” he grunted, swiftly leaning into your touch. 

When his feet began to move, yours blindly began to shuffle as well. Each time you encountered even a tiny twig or something to make you slightly lose your balance, your grip tightened in his shirt and his hold on you swiftly shifted and clutched your waist, just so that in case you actually did stumble, he would be ready to sweep you off your feet. 

The flap to the tent was already open from when you grabbed the marshmallows, so nothing was there to hinder you when Frank pushed you inside. 

As both of you sank down to your knees on the sprawled-out sleeping bags, you began to tear at his clothes, an action that he didn’t protest in the slightest, only brought a hand back up to tangle itself in your locks. With the tent still open to the great outdoors, the crackling light from the campfire streamed in and illuminated both your forms. The warm glow licked across Frank’s skin as you revealed more and more of it. 

When you began to tuck at the last remaining item covering him up, you barely managed to hook a finger in his boxers before Frank’s body moved, laying down and bringing you with him. Chest pressed down against his, he manoeuvred your legs to be at either side of his hips. 

Capturing his lips in a kiss, you both sucked in a slow breath through your noses. As his palms slid up from the curve of your ass and over your waist, the pent-up tempo that had formed outside seemed to relax, your sloppy makeout morphing into soft and yearning pecks. 

His scruff tickled your palms as you clutched his jaw and withdrew just enough for you to catch your breath. Your nose nuzzled gently against his as you then begged in a foggy whisper, “can I please suck your cock?” 

Huffing out a smile, he found your eyes, “you wanna suck my cock?”

“Please.”

“Oh yeah? Well then go right ahead since you want it so badly.”

Mirroring his grin, you leaned in to press your lips to his one last time, “thank you,” before you slowly began to crawl further down. 

Holding his gaze as he propped himself up onto his elbows, you dipped down to plant a few kisses across his stomach before your nose nuzzled against the waistband of his underwear. When you were slotted between his parted legs, resting on your belly with your feet kicked up, his thumbs dipped into his boxers and pulled them off before you had the chance. 

His length sprung free of its binds, throbbing under your gaze and glistening with precum. Your eyes flickered up to meet his as you wrapped your fingers around his girth and a sharp intake of air filled Frank’s lungs. 

You only really had to tilt your head and stick out your tongue in order for it to glide across the bulbous head, as you already were at eye level. Glancing up to catch his gaze, you teasingly tapped the tip of him against your tongue, the corners of your mouth tipping upwards at his reaction. Dipping your head, you planted sloppy pecks down the side of him and when you came back up, you let your saliva dribble down his hardness, your fist swiftly swooping up to lavish its strokes.

When your lips finally enclosed around his girth, a deep rumble vibrated in his burly chest as he watched your slow movements intently, “fuck, I love you…” and his hand came down to stroke the side of your features as you silkily began to bob, “just like that, baby, yes,” drool gradually began to drip down as your lips stretched around his fat girth. When you then momentarily came up for air, Frank tilted his chin and said, “don’t forget the nuts, sweetheart,” and you swiftly bowed down to sloppily make out with his heavy sack, “give them some love as well.”

Then, just as you were about to return your attention to his painfully hard length, he manoeuvred your head for you and only relished in a few seconds of your butterfly-like pace before his hips twisted beneath you and bucked up into your efforts, fucking your little mouth till his cock plunged all the way down your throat. Spit bubbled up at the corners of your lips as his fingers curled around to hold your head in place just a moment longer, letting him fuck your throat till tears began to spew forth. You knew by the sensation that if you’d been lying on your back, the imprint of his cock would have been clear as day in the column of your throat, a familiar bulge that Frank would often let his fingers trace if he caught sight of it. 

Strings of slobber spiderwebbed from your swollen and gasping lips as he finally plucked you off of him. Sitting up more, he brought his face further down and pressed his mouth to yours, smothering the smile that appeared on your features as soon as you got up for air. 

As he impatiently ripped your bra off and you reached down to pull off your panties, they clung to your weepy cunt. Not being able to resist, yourself, you reached down and swept your fingers through your folds, your eyebrows crinkling up at the discovery of just how wet you’d gotten. 

Picking you up, Frank placed you back in his lap before his kisses faded and he layed back down. Raising yourself further up on your knees to hover above him, he grabbed a hold of the base of himself and briefly dragged the tip of him through your petals, flicking your clit before he brought a broad palm to your hip and helped you sink down. 

“Fucking hell…” you flutteringly cursed as you braced a hand on his chest, “oh, F-Frank…”

Your thighs trembled slightly on either side of him as you slowly eased your way down, the stretch of his fat cock proving just staggering as ever. 

As you gently began to roll your hips and find a calm pace that let you feel each and every single detail of him, your eyes fluttered shut as he stretched you out. Repeatedly raising your hips up till just the essence of him remained, you’d then sink back down, each time your slow pace nearly caused your pussy to clench and shrink back entirely so that it felt as if he’d have to split you open all over again. 

But just as you began to lose yourself to the heavenly sensation and let yourself slam back down with more ferocity, Frank’s cock slipped out of your creamy cunt completely. 

A whimper swiftly escaped you as your eyes blinked back open, but the man below you didn’t seem to move a muscle as he just uttered, “put it back in, baby,” which you swiftly reached down to do, moaning loudly as he slipped back into your warmth. His strong fingers dented the curve of your ass as you fulfilled his command, “there you go, good girl,” then swatted his wide palm against your backside to kickstart you back into action. 

Panting as you bounced like a little bunny, your hands crept up to squeeze your tits, pinching the nipples harshly as the melody of your efforts filled the tent. 

“That’s it, ride it,” he growled, offering your ass a few more slaps, “ride that fucking dick.”

Both of his hands then grabbed a hold of your bottom and surely bruised it as he aided your movements, though it didn’t take very long at all for him to take over completely and move your body atop of him, leaving you to just relax into his hold and sink deeper into the breathtaking sensation.

As he bounced you on his cock, he managed to nestle you down even further and grind his dick impossibly deep within you. 

Your head lulled back a bit as he rocked your form. Then, as you felt goosebumps tingle across your flesh and the intoxicating end near, you stopped fighting the urge and let your upper body crumble down against his. 

Fingers curling uselessly against his skin, you almost attempted to bury your face in his chest, right below his right shoulder. 

“Fucking hell,” your eyes rolled as you began to drool on his pec. 

Rolling his hips beneath you, he started to buck up into your weepy cunt before his palm landed a few tingling blows across your bottom. 

When your pussy finally clambered down around him, you nearly bit him as your features tensed up in a silent scream. His own demise soon arrived as well, especially as you throbbed and squeezed down around him so tightly that he nearly couldn’t move at all, just throw in the towel and let your cunt milk him dry. 

You almost fell asleep, laying there on his chest as it slowly rose and fell like a calm tide, Frank even assumed that you had until the moment that you murmured, “I’m so happy that you didn’t just keep driving…” 

“Uh…” his warm fingers drew slow patterns along your spine as he attempted to catch up, “when are you talking about?”

Faintly, you heard the tent rustle as Enzo sleepily stepped inside and plopped himself down on your tangled feet. 

“That you stopped back then on that day when my car broke down,” you uttered as your emotions began to fog up your voice, “thank you for stopping. If not, then we probably wouldn’t have ever met… god… I love you so much. I don’t even know how to–…” a heavy sigh flowed from you before you tilted your head and blinked up into his coffee eyes, tears glinting in your own, “I love you.”

With a molasses-like expression softening up his features, his fingers then tugged a strand of your hair out of your forehead before he replied, “I love you too, Y/n.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

heyy !

i love the boxing idea with curtis and steve for the thuyw au. i was thinking, maybe they could fight together (more like against each other actually) and then reader would be so lost because she has to congratulate the winner (wink wink) but also cheer up the poor looser (wink wink again).

also, a few days/weeks (?) ago we talked about the whole ceremony found footage thing with ari and i still can't get it out of my head (this man is so uhhh). and i thought (spoiler alert for the persons who didn't read the halloween part draft/ideas) maybe reader could find the box with all the souvenirs from the ceremony in ari's room when she was hoping for some alone time. and then he barges in (obviously) and shows her everything. but i also feel like the whole ceremony discover deserves its own moment so maybe it could be like just a suggestion and ari would be like, "i'll tell you about it another time"

anyway, no pressure to write about it now or ever but i needed to share the slutiness that possesses me with someone else.

you're a wonderful writer

bye bye

mwah <3

oh....my...god.... first of all I LOVE YOU

i am INSTANTLY adding that thing about them sparring with each other in my notes!!!

and i LOOOVE her finding the survunies while she's in ari's room (mayhaps a camcorder with the video evidence still inside?), but as much as i adore it, i feel like it'd get lost in all of the nastiness in that halloween fic, there's already way too much happening, i shouldn't add anything more, plus that nugget deserves more attention then it could get in that fic....maaaaybe in the one after the boxing fic? or at some other point? uuuhhhh, now i'm getting ideas.... she can still snoop in there for ither reasons... he can still catch her...... omg stop, now i'm imagining being cradled in his humongous arms with one of his hands buried between your thighs while he tells you about it all, making you watch the entire video......then i'd just have to fine tune all of the details of that ceremony so that he can babble about it lol

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

What’s the next THUYW theme to the fic.

i'm not completely sure.... i'm thinking i wanna play with a bit more anal..... maybe it's also time for some smut at the boxing gym with steve and curtis, our resident boxers.... that's kinda where my head is currently at, although since finishing the last one (only a few days ago lol) i've picked back up a few other wips that i wanna try and make some headway in over the next few days or however long i feel like it. but then again, if we cook up a really filthy fantasy for this au, then i usually can't resist instantly dropping everything else to scribble it down, sooooooo.....

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Ik this character doesn’t give off the same dark vibes as other characters you might have in mind but I think Frank Alder would be an interesting choice cause he definitely gives summer fling vibes with living in Florida and whatever, he would definitely take you out on rides with the boats he just got done fixing just to fuck you in the middle of nowhere

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

I do think Ari would be a nice choice because idk what you have plan for the fic if you ever do one but like a summer fling would be interesting because he just gives off that vibe yk anyways

first of all, yes he gives off summer fling vibes, so much so in fact that i've already written that kinda story for him

and second of all, i was actually thinking something like a summer fling...

i'm gonna put a little taste under the cut of the fantasy that's haunting me.....

while you were away at boarding school, your mom met a guy and got married. now you are on summer break before university (or maybe a gap year where you work for a bit and maybe see the world) and you are so insanely innocent, your new dark and pervy stepdad just can’t help but take advantage of it… 

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

ANDY. BARBER. STEP. DAD. FIC.

Whoever that nonny is.... I bow down to you