daredevilkink | Prompt Post #1

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Except he has no time to complain when Foggy's breaching him and god, his fingers are thick, and spit definitely does not make a good substitute for lube but it burns good and sweet, not unlike the punishment Matt endures at the hands of criminals. No wonder old holy men used to whip themselves, he could get used to this.

But Foggy isn't trying to take it slow this time (they're fucking in a confession box, for god's sake, this was probably five different kinds of illegal and ten different kinds of sacrilegious) and he crooks his fingers just right and Matt gasps, his good knee goes weak and Foggy has to hold him up against the back of the box lest he collapse.

"Just a little more," Foggy mutters, twisting and hitting Matt's prostate again and Matt positively cries, begs Foggy for something thicker than just his fingers, kisses him clumsily on the corner of the mouth.

"Please, please, please, want your cock, please--"

And Foggy obliges.

It's messy as hell but Foggy works his trousers down enough to free up his own cock and the pent-up smell of sex fills Matt's nose and he moans, he can practically smell the pheremones and salt coming off of Foggy. Matt only just realizes his other hand's been gripping the wall of the box so hard he's definitely driving splinters up under his nails but he can't find it in him to care when he whines at the loss of pressure of Foggy's fingers and thrusts uselessly against nothing, murmuring a bastardization of the Hail Mary to keep himself busy but he feels a hand on his ass and lips on his ear and--

oh.

Matt doesn't realize he's been crying actual tears until Foggy is kissing them off his cheeks as gently as the confines of the confession box will allow, and he realizes Foggy's sunk into him, stretching him more painfully than any of his fingers could. But Matt's back arches nonetheless and a breathless noise issues from his throat and he's sighing, his neglected cock twitches as Foggy tries to get readjusted but this might just be the closest thing to heaven on earth Matt has experienced.

"God, Matty, you should see yourself right now," Foggy whispers, in awe, "you're so warm and your hair is sticking to your forehead and I can feel your heartbeat, it's racing, Matty, your mouth is so wet and red, Jesus -- and this is all for me?"

"For you," Matt repeats, and it's like a blessing, an amen. "Always for you, Foggy."

Foggy's hands make their way around Matt's wrists and slide them over Matt's head and he's powerless, waiting, lets Foggy do what he wants with him and Foggy does, sets up a rough rhythm that makes Matt gasp and choke and sob for more, hands scrabbling between the wood and Foggy's hand as the other drops to Matt's waist, holding him in place. All that's issuing from the box now is the occasional sob or grunt or plea for more, accompanied by the wet slap of flesh, and Matt can't think of the sweat sliding down his ribs when his whole body is on fire and he's thrusting to get purchase on Foggy.

It's like this for a while, rough fucking in the box until Matt can't stand it any longer and pleads with Foggy to touch him and he does, drags a hand wet with spit up Matt's length and Matt knows he can't last much longer, his ears full of the sound of Foggy's hand on his cock and Foggy's hips grinding into him and Matt cries out and spends, dripping on himself and Foggy.

Foggy makes a move to pull out and Matt stops him, breathless.

"Keep--keep going," Matt says, and Foggy obliges, ramming into Matt until the latter, oversensitive and shaky to the touch, is sobbing, cleching around Foggy, and Foggy loses it, comes biting Matt's neck as he rides out his orgasm and Matt strokes his hair with quivering hands. He unhooks Matt's leg from his hip and pulls out, come dribbing down Matt's legs and nearly ruining his pants until Foggy utters a curse and produces a wad of tissues from his pocket to clean Matt up.

"Thank you," Matt sighs, and he means it, unwrapping the rosary from his fingers and dropping it back in his pocket as he worked his belt back together. "That was. Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Foggy replies, and winces -- too literal for the situation they're currently in. They're still fairly drunk and the adrenaline is winding down and Matt definitely looks the worse for wear, sitting awkwardly on the bench, his lips, still red, shiny in the dim church light.

"I--might need you to hold me up when we walk home."

"Don't worry about it." Foggy smiles. "I just smiled at you. We can get a cab. It's no problem."

Matt grins up at him and thinks, yeah. This was a good night. He might have some things he couldn't tell even Father Lantom now, but...Foggy was warm and solid and Matt could still feel the heat imprint of Foggy's hand on his hip, and he knew he would sleep well for a change tonight.

--

OK YES AND SO CONCLUDES MY NIGHT OF SIN but also here's the song i had in mind while writing this (the title of this fill comes from this song, thanks father john misty): http://youtu.be/57yHnFN0J-M

anon i'm screaming holy shit i love you this is perfect oh my goddd

;__; this was so great and so fucking hot and my raised-Catholic self is wayyy more into this whole concept than i'd have thought. god. good job holy shit

I AM GLAD I COULD BE OF SERVICE i had lot of fun writing this

So hot, *fans self*, you did a great job.

*takes a bow*

this was delicious!!!

hooooooooooooooooooooooooooooly shit.

(no pun intended)

Wow wow this was so hot.

Prompt Post #1

FILL: you're bent over the altar, and the neighbors are complaining (2/2)

op here

Re: FILL: you're bent over the altar, and the neighbors are complaining (2/2)

Re: FILL: you're bent over the altar, and the neighbors are complaining (2/2)

Re: FILL: you're bent over the altar, and the neighbors are complaining (2/2)

Re: FILL: you're bent over the altar, and the neighbors are complaining (2/2)

Re: FILL: you're bent over the altar, and the neighbors are complaining (2/2)

Re: FILL: you're bent over the altar, and the neighbors are complaining (2/2)

Re: FILL: you're bent over the altar, and the neighbors are complaining (2/2)