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daredevilkink2015-06-22 07:24 pm
ddk_mod) wrote in daredevilkink2015-06-22 07:24 pm
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Prompt Post #4
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[SECOND FILL] Day two (1/2)
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 05:29 am (UTC)(link)He fisted a hand into the thin pad of his mattress. His blanket had disappeared somewhere last night during the- Well. It was probably on the floor. He raised his face and inhaled, but all he could smell was the overwhelming scent of Fisk's sweat and... other fluids. He gagged, vaguely remembering stumbling out of his bunk and using a fair portion of his only toilet roll to clean up the mess dribbling down his thighs, Fisk's eyes on him the entire time. Passing out had been a blessing.
"Let's go!" an officer yelled as a buzzer sounded; Matt flinched in surprise, hands flying up to cover his ears as it deafened him, cutting through his brain like a hot knife. It stopped, but his ears kept ringing, and he drifted for a moment, unable to move, until someone touched his shoulder. He flinched again.
"... have to get up, Matthew," came Fisk's voice, the beginning of his sentence lost to the ringing. He felt the air flowing a little more freely through the cell and realized the door must have slid back to let them out. He concentrated and heard the other inmates leaving their cells to stand in front of the doors in a rustle of fabric and dull thud of cheap, thin shoes on cement. He flung his hand out, groping, and shoved Fisk's hand away with a growl.
He had no idea what time it was, he was sore, hungry, and tired. His second day was getting off to a great start.
*
He stumbled into breakfast, another disappointing 'meal', then the morning services, where he sat on one of the many empty folding chairs and listened to an uninterested volunteer chaplain drone on about...something. He tried to pay attention, but the sounds of the prison in full swing were too much, washing over him and making it difficult to focus. It was hard enough just to find his way down the halls, sounds bouncing around every surface and confusing him even more. He had to walk with one hand outstretched, fingers trailing the concrete, following the other inmates from one room to another in an attempt to map out the complex. In the end, he had to stop and ask a guard where his cell block was, receiving a rather hostile response- nobody believed he was blind, still. Apparently, his unfocused eyes, visible to all without his glasses, weren't proof enough.
His 'vision' was a mess, shapes pinging back and forth as the sounds echoed around him, unable to place them precisely. He was tired enough that his brain was failing to put the input together into something usable. He needed his cane. He needed to not be in here, with no thought given to accessibility for blind inmates- not even any Braille signs to help him find his way, the bare fucking minimum.
Two days. Foggy would have visitation in two days, and they would discuss the upcoming trial and how to proceed. Rikers was just temporary. Even Fisk was still awaiting his own trial; Matt had been knee-deep in preparations for that when he'd been arrested, and now... well. He hadn't been officially disbarred yet, but it was coming. Hopefully, Foggy would avoid that particular fallout himself- he was yet to face charges, but it was only a matter of time. That he was able to visit at all was a minor miracle.
For what felt like the millionth time that week, Matt wanted to scream, to punch somebody- if not for his own situation, then for the mess he'd landed his friends in. His only friends.
This was why Stick had said to cut ties with them. If only he'd listened.
*
He stood at the door to the communal showers, clutching a towel, and tried to make sense of it. He could hear- running water, of course, echoing off the walls, nearly drowning out the voices of the men showering. Someone was laughing; a man pushed past him and Matt thought he turned his head to look at him, but he couldn't be sure. The sound was too much, too much to wade through, and he didn't want to enter, to make himself vulnerable here. Someone noticed his indecision and began to jeer in his direction, but it was tame compared to what he'd endured yesterday, before Fisk had... staked his claim.
Matt grit his teeth, his heart skipping a beat at the unbidden memory, of huge hands on his neck- he swallowed down the sudden flash of anger, hands curling into fists, uselessly. Fisk's 'protection' would probably keep him from being harassed here. The other inmates had kept a wide berth between them all day: in the hallways, in the cafeteria, in his brief foray to the library (such that it was). It hadn't put a complete end to the gossip, but he'd been doing his best to filter it out. Not that it had been difficult, as most of his attention was focused on not running into people as he walked. But he still heard the words here and there.
"You should have heard him," someone had said, earnestly, from across the cafeteria at breakfast. "Fucking obscene."
"Jesus, man, I'm trying to eat," another inmate had complained, mouth full. "Rather not have to hear about that fat fuck's cock right now. Or, you know. Ever."
Matt had silently agreed.
*
When Matt finally returned to his cell, unshowered and hungry, Fisk was absent. He sat on his bunk, slowly, still aching; the thin mattress wasn't much help in that area. The cell smelled overwhelmingly of Fisk, his mattress reeking of their mingled sweat and cum-
Matt fell to his knees and shuffled to the toilet fixed to the wall, barely making it in time as the contents of his stomach came back up in a rush. It was mostly bile; he hadn't eaten for days. He sat there, numbly, for some time, unwilling to move. He didn't want to get back up. He didn't want to get back on his bunk. He didn't want to sleep. He'd be locked in with Fisk again, soon enough, and he wasn't stupid enough to expect to be left alone tonight.
He flexed his jaw, grit his teeth, and reached up to grip the sink, lifting himself to his feet, shakily. He washed his mouth out, spitting, wishing he had a tooth brush. He hadn't been given one yet; he'd taken the towel from Fisk's side of the cell (put back, unused). The only things he had were the clothes he was wearing and half a roll of toilet paper.
It was going to be a long night.
[SECOND FILL] Day two (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 05:35 am (UTC)(link)Fisk was shifting on his bunk from where he was sitting, watching. His heart was steady in his massive chest, not one beat out of place, but Matt knew what was coming. He was still sore. Last night was a jumble in his mind, half blocked out in his brain’s misguided attempt to shield him from the trauma, but he remembered- being forced down to the bunk, chest-first on a mattress that stank of sweat and fear, the pain of being breached- the humiliation of actually enjoying it enough to come.
Fisk moved. He flinched at the suddenness of it and immediately regretted it. He couldn’t afford to show fear. He had fucked up last night, allowed his exhaustion and confusion to get the better of him, making him weak, making him vulnerable. Tonight he would fight, to hell with Fisk and his ‘protection’.
He willed himself to sit up, even as Fisk’s heavy, even steps approached him, quickly closing the distance between their bunks. He was frozen, though, muscles refusing to obey. Fisk was close enough to touch, the heat radiating from his body, then he was sitting, gently pushing Matt’s legs to the side as he lowered himself down. Matt felt himself swallow, hard, but he still couldn’t move.
The air moved as Fisk reached out, slowly, and he twitched as fingers make contact with his cheek, the rasp of the pads on his stubble. The huge hand smelled of rust, like the water that came out of the small sink on top of the toilet, the industrial detergent used to wash their clothes and bedding, and underneath it the scent that was entirely Fisk, of sweat and musk, expensive cologne that must have been smuggled in to him somehow. The hand cupped his face, gentle, and Matt couldn’t help the sob that escaped him, his face hot with shame.
“No need for that,” Fisk said, not even trying to be quiet, his voice ringing out sharp in the sudden silence that fell over their block. Matt realized the rest of the inmates were listening. He hadn’t really paid attention last night, too focused on Fisk, but now- he heard zippers, for Christ’s sake, rustling fabric and sliding skin-on-skin of men taking hold of their cocks as they eavesdropped. Suddenly, Fisk’s behavior made more sense; he was putting on a show, playing up Matt’s helplessness, and Matt found himself baring his teeth in a sudden rush of rage. "Or that," Fisk mused, running a thumb over Matt's lower lip.
Matt's breath caught in his chest, and his mind flashed to the memory of a hand circling his throat, squeezing, as he was fucked- and his cock twitched, shamefully, in interest. He had liked it. Jesus, he had come from it, what the fuck was wrong with him? In the daytime, with people surrounding him, it had felt like a bad dream, distant, to be dealt with later, but now- Fisk's hand was on his face, stroking, and Matt was hard.
Maybe this was where he belonged, after all. The devil inside him had steered him here, to this place, in this moment, and Matt knew he had a lot to answer for. His sins were many, unforgivable. He'd made the mistake of thinking he could somehow rise above them, above who he was, but no. As someone once told him- you don't get into the cage with animals, without becoming one yourself. Now he was learning the truth. This was his life. He was no longer in control of it.
"Don't," he said, voice rough and not at all commanding, as he had intended. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears, to his own ears. "I can't-" He cut himself off before his traitorous mouth could start begging.
"Hush, Matthew," was the reply. He wasn't sure if Fisk was amused or not. His heart was still steady, his breathing even. Fisk was so sure he had nothing to fear. "We can take it easy, tonight." He shifted, and Matt's pulse spiked as he felt Fisk throwing a leg up over him, straddling him- how he managed to fit, Matt had no idea. A knee forced his legs apart and Fisk settled between them, slowly lowering himself down over Matt, pinning his hips to the mattress. A huge hand palmed his crotch and Matt shuddered. "I'm going to kiss you."
Oh, Jesus. Fisk's musk overwhelmed him as he did just that, surprisingly soft, testing, at first. Matt didn't react and Fisk didn't seem to care. The hand on his cheek tilted his face, giving Fisk more access, and a tongue delved into his mouth, licking at his, trying to coax him to respond. When he pulled away, finally, Matt wrenched his head back, breathing hard through his mouth; he couldn't imagine it'd been any good, with him laying there like a dead fish, but Fisk still didn't seem to care. This was all about power- controlling him. And he couldn't fight back. He'd found that out quickly enough last night. Nobody was going to come to his rescue.
"Doesn't that count as cheating?" he spit, his skin crawling. Fisk rumbled deep in his chest, a laugh, and canted his hips against Matt's in reply. He was hard already, the massive bulge of his cock rubbing up against Matt's with every stroke, and Matt couldn't help it, his dick had a mind of its own. He stifled a moan as much as possible, but the friction, through two layers of pants, was muted enough to keep him frustrated.
"Vanessa knows of our- arrangement." Fisk's hand left his cheek and started pulling on Matt's pants, tugging them down. Fisk paused to do the same to his own; Matt heard the slick-wet sound of his cock being freed from the fabric, Fisk palming himself for a few quick strokes, the scent of it hitting Matt's nose, hard.
"Really?" Matt grunted, then hissed as Fisk reached into his fly and gripped his cock. "You- actually told her how you were- fuck!- molesting me?"
Fisk snorted. "She wasn't entirely disappointed. You took me away from her, Matthew." His hand was pumping now, and Matt couldn't stop himself from arching into it, trying not to listen to the sounds bubbling up from his throat. His ears picked up a faint whisper from the cell next door, a muttered obscenity, and he grit his teeth. "It's only- fitting- that you receive your punishment from me."
Matt gasped as a thumb stroked over the head of his cock; Fisk's fist was large enough that it engulfed it completely, unlike anything he'd ever felt before. "Thought you said- this wasn't my- punishment," he choked out; he was already so close, his body was useless against this, oversensitive nerves firing unchecked.
Fisk hummed. "No. Not this." And suddenly, the hand was gone. Matt whined in protest, deep in his throat, his hands flying up to his crotch to take over, only to be caught. "No," Fisk said, forcefully enough that he froze. "You don't get to come until I say you can." He released Matt, his hand coming back up to brace himself on the mattress beside Matt's head.
Matt squirmed, trying to find friction, and his cock met Fisk's, a brief slide of skin on skin, electric- he gasped again, and Fisk ground down against him. Fisk's cock was fucking huge; he took ahold of it with both hands, testing its girth, amazed that it hadn't torn him in half. Jesus. Above him, Fisk exhaled, then reached down and pulled one of Matt's hands away, back up to his face. "Spit."
Matt did so, and Fisk released his wrist, letting him resume. For the first time, Matt began to relax- if all Fisk was expecting tonight was a handjob, he could bear it. There were far worse ways to pass the night (overstimulated and shaking as Fisk kept fucking into him, his hole raw, the spit he'd use to stretch him open long since dried up- sobbing face-first into the mattress until he felt Fisk pulsing deep inside him, filling him with hot spurts that dripped down his thigh when he pulled out, finally-).
He worked his hands over Fisk's cock, one over the other, fisting him tightly and grinding himself up as he did so, desperate for any friction at all. Fisk wasn't even breathing heavily; he was barely reacting at all, at this rate his hands were going to go numb before he saw any change in the other man. He squirmed some more, trying to find a better position, for something to rut up against, and Fisk finally obliged him raising himself up further, pushing a knee into Matt's groin.
Matt exhaled in relief, but it didn't last. He felt himself getting close again, heat pooling in the pit of his stomach, hands trembling, and Fisk pulled away, the fucking bastard- too late, Matt realized he'd said that out loud, because Fisk was laughing at him.
"Keep going," Fisk murmured, and Matt grudgingly did as he was told, eager to get it over with. He felt a turning point, finally, when Fisk's hips began to move with him, his breaths coming a little faster. "Yes. You're doing so well, Matthew."
"Don't need the commentary," Matt muttered. His hands were aching now, and if it were anyone else he'd be marveling at their stamina because Christ, Fisk was what, in his fifties? Matt was lucky if he lasted five minutes of direct stimulation, as sensitive as he was. Maybe that's what it was like for normal people; he wasn't sure. He'd never fucked another man before.
Fisk grunted in response, reaching back down to grasp Matt's cock. He leaned back and pushed Matt's hands out of the way and he let them fall, limply, to the mattress, as Fisk took over, grasping both of their cocks together and squeezing. Matt yelped in surprise, hips stuttering in the air, and Fisk set a brutal pace, stroking them together in one huge palm. Precum made them slick, Fisk's cock hard and heavy against his own, hot, grinding- Matt buried his face in the crook of his elbow, biting down hard, his other hand finding Fisk's shirt and gripping tight. "Come, Matthew," Fisk shuddered, at last, voice distressingly breathy, and Matt did as he was told- finally-
He lay panting for a moment after, hard, wetness seeping into his pants. Fisk was still heavy above him, pushing himself to his knees. He'd let go of Matt, palming himself and stroking furiously, still hard, then-
"Fuck!" Matt recoiled, as a string of cum landed on his cheek, landing in his open eye. "You- fucking-" It burned, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, what the fuck was wrong with Fisk? He flailed, managed to get out from under Fisk as the other man leaned back onto his heels, letting him up. He hit the hard floor on his hands and knees, his eye clenched shut. "You motherfucker! Good fucking thing I'm already blind!"
Fisk was laughing, the absolute bastard. Beyond the cell, he could hear even more laughter- had the whole prison heard? He groaned, reaching out to find the toilet, but Fisk had followed him from the bunk. He was met halfway with a wet towel held to his face, wiping away the mess for him.
"I apologize," Fisk said, awkwardly, as if trying not to laugh any more. "That was not my- intention."
Matt huffed, humiliation keeping the shame at bay, for now. "Yeah, try to be a little more considerate next time you rape someone," he growled, pulling away from Fisk and taking the towel with him. He groped his way back to his bunk and sat down, leaning over to rest his elbows on his knees, and heard Fisk retreat to his own bunk.
Well. He'd survived, he supposed. Cum in his eye wasn't the worst thing that could have happened. He willed himself not to think about what would happen tomorrow night- or the night after that. How long before Fisk was bored of this? How long before his 'protection' would be withdrawn? He grit his teeth, threw the towel back onto Fisk's side, and lay back on the bunk. He was sore, filthy, hungry, and utterly exhausted. But he was still alive. That had to count for something.
Re: [SECOND FILL] Day two (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 05:36 am (UTC)(link)Re: [SECOND FILL] Day two (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 06:14 am (UTC)(link)Also, I loved the accidental facial at the end! Brought some levity to the situation.
(Ah, Matt will have the run of the place in a week. He just needs to blow off some steam by beating the shit out of somebody dumb enough to comment about his situation to his face, lol)
Re: [SECOND FILL] Day two (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 06:46 am (UTC)(link)Re: [SECOND FILL] Day two (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 07:40 am (UTC)(link)Re: [SECOND FILL] Day two (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 01:43 pm (UTC)(link)Man, this makes me want to write the first time Fisk makes Matt suck his dick. On one hand, Matt wouldn't have to deal with the pain of being barebacked dry. On the other hand, Fisk has a monster cock haha.
But I have also never written porn before (or much of anything, really). Hm.
(this just needs to be a round-robin series of Matt's unfortunate prison sexcapades hahaha)
[3rd Fill] Swallow - 1/?
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 02:16 pm (UTC)(link)Matt can barely form the word around the animal panic that lances through him when he catches on, too late, to what Fisk is going to make him do.
It's his third night in Purgatory, and Matt had hoped to spare himself the embarrassment of panicking in front of this man and everyone within earshot again. So he'd been proud of himself for not flinching this time when Fisk had traced his meaty fingers along his jaw, and for simply going with it when Fisk's tongue licked inside his mouth.
Matt had just starting to lose himself in the kiss and the ambient sounds around him, mind wandering in self-preservation, when he was suddenly - but steadily - forced off the mattress (always Matt's!) and onto the cement floor, pressed to his knees between splayed legs.
And now Matt's face is uncomfortably close to Fisk's groin.
"N-no!" The smell is so overwhelming he gags. "Please--!"
So much for not making a fool of himself.
He tries to scramble away, but Fisk is gripping him by the hair.
(oh god i've never written porn, bear with me~)
Re: [3rd Fill] Swallow - 2/?
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 02:53 pm (UTC)(link)"Don't... d-don't..."
"Relax."
Matt is really starting to hate that word.
He expects Fisk to drag him forward then, but nothing happens. He seems perfectly content to just sit there and watch Matt tremble at his feet as he runs the thumb of the hand holding Matt's jaw across his lower lip. It's strangely hypnotic, and as the minutes drag on and nothing continues to happen, the rushing in his head begins to quiet and all the noises of their cell block starts to filter back in. Matt feels himself start to settle.
And so it's with an eerie calmness that he obeys when the thumb caressing his lip moves into his mouth, and he begins to suck.
Re: [3rd Fill] Swallow - 3/?
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 03:27 pm (UTC)(link)Fisk withdraws his thumb after what feels like forever and replaces it with his index and middle fingers, and Matt closes his lips around them. They're gliding slowly, in and out, across his tongue, and it feels (good) -- It's just like when (don't think about it) --
Matt concentrates on his breathing (and not on the wet sounds his mouth is making or the way he's begun to drool down his own chin). The hand holding him by the hair releases him, and Matt knows it's so Fisk can reach into his own boxers to pull his cock out. The smell of him is thick and overwhelming in Matt's nose when he inhales (it smells like his bed). He's stroking himself in time to the way Matt's head bobs up and down on his fingers. (Fisk's fingers aren't moving anymore; Matt is doing the work himself. When had that even happened?). His heartbeat is steady.
Matt feels his own cock twitch and hates himself for it.
Re: [3rd Fill] Swallow - 4/?
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 04:38 pm (UTC)(link)"I trust," Fisk says, "this doesn't need to be said, but... If you bite me, what's left of your life will be... unpleasant."
Matt's face is still being drawn closer to Fisk's cock and a sound that Matt refuses to acknowledge as a whine (it is) escapes him.
"I... wait! I - I don't -"
His face grows impossibly hot when his brain catches up to his mouth and he realizes he was about to admit to a man who's ready raped him twice that he doesn't know how to suck a dick. (Open mouth, insert...) As if technique is an important factor here. Fisk will take what he wants and Matt is just along for the ride. But even so, Fisk's cock is a hell of a lot larger than a couple of fingers, and Matt desperately doesn't want to be part of any reality where that is anywhere near his mouth.
It becomes a moot point anyway when, in lieu of a response, the head of Fisk's cock makes contact with Matt's mouth.
Re: [3rd Fill] Swallow - 5/?
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 05:37 pm (UTC)(link)“Open.”
He does, shamefully grateful for being given instructions because his mind had gone terrifyingly blank. And then he has to open wider because it’s so damn big. The skin of the head is surprisingly soft and firm. The precum tastes how Fisk smells on his tongue and Matt wants to start screaming. He’s drawing panicked breaths in through his nose, dreading what’s about to happen.
Fisk takes a slow, deep breath that only shudders a little on the exhale. Matt can both hear and feel his heartbeat now, and it seems so slow compared to Matt’s. The rushing sound in his ears is back, and he feels warm and cold simultaneously. Fisk is saying something to him again (more instructions?) but the floor is tilting and his body begins to slump, and Matt recognizes - in a detached sort of way - that he's about to faint.
(Thank you, God)
Re: [3rd Fill] Swallow - 6/?
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 06:49 pm (UTC)(link)He floats on the cusp of unconsciousness for one tantalizing moment before he feels thumbs brushing tears from his cheeks.
“Matthew."
There’s something hard and hot in his mouth --
“You’re not finished yet."
Matt inhales through his nose sharply, shuddering as his mind settles miserably back into his body.
Matt doesn’t often fixate on what he looks like, and he doesn’t want to start now, but his mouth is currently hanging slack around the head of Fisk’s cock, and all that’s keeping him from falling to the floor are Fisk’s enormous hands cupping the back of his head; he isn’t entirely sure what a cockslut is supposed to look like, but he imagines that right now he’s it.
Matt purses his lips with a frustrated huff, and Fisk makes a pleased sound
“Good. Use your tongue."
Re: [3rd Fill] Swallow - 7/7
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 07:28 pm (UTC)(link)Matt's jaw and neck are starting to ache. He had definitely underestimated Fisk’s stamina.
It had started off simple enough. Fisk had him lick his cock, starting from the balls and working his way up the shaft and over the slit in the head. It was repetitive work and therefore meditative in it’s own way, and Fisk seemed to know when his mind began to float because it was then that he had him graduate to the actual blowjob.
He’s got a rhythm going now, sucking what he can comfortably fit into his mouth and pumping the rest with both hands. More and more of Fisk's dick is edging into Matt's mouth on every stroke, and Matt isn’t sure if it’s because of him or Fisk.
Matt’s chin is covered in precum and drool, but Fisk had grabbed his wrist the first time he tried to wipe it away.
(How long is he going to have to do this?)
This is his life. Kneeling here with a giant cock in his mouth hoping for Fisk to come down his throat.
Matt can hear the men in the cell next to theirs masturbating furiously. And he can tell that one of the men in the cell across from theirs is watching, even though he's not getting off from it.
(People are watching him do this. Fisk is watching him-- )
Matt flushes all over, feels the heat spread from his face, down his neck and chest to pool in his dick. He is achingly hard and tries to edge closer to one of Fisk's leg, desperate for friction.
That seems to drive Fisk over the edge.
Matt wastes his breath trying to get a muffled scream out as Fisk violently forces himself in all the way, crushing Matt’s nose into his pubic hair. His throat is plugged and he can barely even gag around it before it’s being pulled out again, and then slammed back in. Over and over and—
He can’t breathe and his throat is burning and his entire body feels like it’s buzzing--
“Good boy."
(Is it that, or the chocking that makes him come so hard he nearly passes out?)
After, Fisk pulls his softening cock from Matt’s mouth and allows him to scramble towards the toilet. He gasps and coughs, tears burning down his cheeks, and vomits up all the semen he’d just swallowed.
(Swallowing his pride had been the hardest part).
Re: [3rd Fill] Swallow - 7/7
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 07:48 pm (UTC)(link)Re: [3rd Fill] Swallow - 7/7
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 08:06 pm (UTC)(link)Re: [3rd Fill] Swallow - 7/7
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 08:33 pm (UTC)(link)AO3 LINK [3rd Fill] Swallow - 7/7
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 08:35 pm (UTC)(link)Re: [3rd Fill] Swallow - 7/7
(Anonymous) 2015-06-30 12:35 am (UTC)(link)Re: [3rd Fill] Swallow - 7/7
(Anonymous) 2015-06-30 12:59 am (UTC)(link)Holy shit O_O
Re: [3rd Fill] Swallow - 7/7
(Anonymous) 2015-06-30 03:12 am (UTC)(link)There's a lot to like here, but I think the double entendre here is my fav: (Open mouth, insert...)
I literally laughed out loud there. A+
Oh, I also really like the last line. Brings it all together in a nice (re: heartbreaking) kind of way.
Re: [3rd Fill] Swallow - 1/?
(Anonymous) 2015-06-29 05:21 pm (UTC)(link)[SECOND FILL] Day two A03 link
(Anonymous) 2015-06-30 03:33 am (UTC)(link)