#Matt Murdock x fem! reader fluff

[peterman-spideyparker]

I’ve Got You Under My Skin (Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader) Sinatra Series - 2/9

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! Here is part two of my Sinatra Series! The first part got some serious love, and I'm so excited that I get to share this! I never really do series because I always try to write them all before hand but either loose inspiration/don’t like what I’ve come up with/hit serious writers block, and I feel like so much good work has gone unseen, I didn’t want that to happen to this, and it hasn’t! Anyways, I’m rambling. Get ready for some sweet fluff in this one. Enjoy! :)

Summary: After your shared dance in the reception area of Nelson and Murdock, Matt can’t stop thinking about you in a light that might be something more than friends. As you drink and play pool at Josie’s, he can’t help but feel that these thoughts might be worth exploring.

Suggested listening: I’ve Got You Under My Skin - Frank Sinatra

Warnings: Fluff, friendships, dancing, budding affections of a friends-to-lovers relationship, drinking at Josie’s, Matt being nervous

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson and Karen Page

Word Count: 1,273

He’s danced with you before at events—it’s not like it was a new experience. So why is he so hung up on this? Matt has gone over and over the moment in his brain for a full month—a month!—desperately trying to pick up on something that has flipped the switch in his brain. You were lighter and happier than Matt has ever encountered than before—it’s like every last worry and thing on your mind was lifted from your shoulders while you moved softly across the old hardwood floor. You managed to keep that momentum going with Matt as you two danced, even passing it onto him. It’s almost as if you were radiating magic—a magic meant just for him to help him thrive. 

“Yo, Murdock!” Foggy says pointedly over the noise in Josie’s. The tone catches Matt’s attention, his grip adjusting in his pool cue. Matt’s eyebrows raise in surprise and he leans forward, trying to catch up on whatever conversation slipped past his ears. “Hm?” he hums. 

“It’s your turn, Matt,” Karen laughs. “Unless whatever you’re thinking of is more interesting?”

“Ooh, he’s definitely focusing on that new Greek place that opened a few blocks over,” you hum. “We grabbed some gyros from there earlier this week and they were fantastic. Either that, or Mr. Workaholic is mulling over case strategy.“ Matt can hear your muscles turn up into a smile. “Which is it?”

“Neither,” he smirks softly as he leans over to take a shot. “Working on my shut out.” He pulls the cue back and shoots, only knocking one of he and Foggy’s balls in the socket.

“Well, Four Drink Matt is Shut Out Murdock, so the next round is on me. Kare, can you help me bring these glasses back to the bar?” Foggy asks, leaning his cue against the wall.

“Sure thing,” she nods, mirroring his movements to follow him to the bar. 

“Four Drink Matt will be hard to beat,” you sigh as you assess the pool table, figuring out just how you want to take your shot. “I say in the interest of fairness, you shouldn’t be allowed to play.”

“That’s brutal, angel,” he chuckles. “Trying to stop a blind man from enjoying a night with his friends?”

“I’m not trying to stop a blind man from doing anything,” you hum, leaning over to take a shot, sinking two of your balls in opposite pockets. “I’m just trying to keep the playing field even for all involved in this friendly match of billiards.”

“Says the woman who just made an incredibly smooth and difficult shot,” he chuckles. “You don’t hear a noise on the table like that from a bad pool player.”

“Well,” you draw out, moving closer to him, the liquor enhancing how bold you’re willing to behave around Matt. “Maybe I’ve learned a thing or two from watching you play after all this time.”

“I’m glad I’m rubbing off on you.”

“Some might call it you getting under my skin.”

Oh, if you only knew.

“Well, I am an excellent influence,” he chuckles.

“Take your shot, then.”

Matt’s brain turns to a pile of goo for a moment. The words sound so innocent yet so sinful falling from your lips. He can feel the heat radiating off of your body by how close you are, your fingertips gently brushing against his hand as they rest on the edge of the pool table. All he would have to do is lean in to be engulfed by the scent of you, the feeling of your lips on his, your arms around him. Just a few inches, and he knows he’d be able to experience Heaven on Earth for a brief period of time.

The game. You mean the game.

Clearing his throat nervously, he smiles and lets out a breathy, not-entirely-convincing-carefree chuckle as he leans down to hit one of the balls. Unfortunately for Shut Out Murdock, he’s so distracted by the thought of you and your words, he doesn’t get the right ball in.

“Oof!” you chuckle.

“That good, huh?” he grins cheekily.

“Matty, you sunk the eight-ball,” you hum, leaning against your pool cue. You only call him “Matty” after a couple of drinks—but a thought occurs to him that he wouldn’t mind hearing you call him that more often. “Your shut out is a no-go now.”

“Eh, well, something went in,” he smirks as he straightens up.

“No!” Foggy exclaims dramatically as he looks at the balls on the table. “Nice going, slick!”

“Why, thank you,” Matt grins, taking his drink from Karen.

“Should’ve waited for that drink before you took your shot,” Karen laughs, taking a sip of her own. “Now instead of an interesting game, we need to reset.”

“It can still be an interesting game,” you chime. “Just now an interesting game from the beginning.”

“I don’t know. Maybe we should just call it a night,” Matt sighs, unable to hide the cocky grin that upturns the right corner of his mouth. “(Y/N) here was just voicing her concern about unfair game conditions with Four Drink Matt. Now, I just think she’s afraid to lose—.”

“Oh, you are on, Murdock,” you interrupt, moving to get all of the balls and get them in the organizer.

Sure, you and Karen lose to Matt and Foggy pretty quickly—the four drink rule proving to be an unbending standard in Matt’s pool skills—but there was no way that you’d let Matt get off with a comment like that.

Soon, the pool table is put back together before everything is settled up with Josie. Just as you’re all about to leave, having already said your goodbyes, you do a quick check of your purse, making sure that you have your apartment keys at the ready.

“You guys go, I’ll be okay,” you tell them as you look through your crossbody bag.

“I’ll wait here with you,” Matt says. “I don’t mind, honestly.”

You’re so focused on looking for your keys, you don’t see Foggy and Karen exchange a knowing glance at one another before they bid you and Matt a final “goodnight” as they leave the bar.

“You’re too sweet, Matty,” you say, gently placing a hand on his arm after you find your keys. “You really didn’t need to stay.”

“I don’t mind,” he smiles. “Besides, it was only an extra minute? That’s nothing.”

“But it’s, like, seven minutes in dog years,” you joke as you both make your way through the bar door.

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Matt laughs, his cane making a new sound as it taps the pavement.

“Eh, logistics and semantics,” you chuckle, giving his forearms a little parting squeeze before you take a few steps. “See you tomorrow morning.”

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Matt says as you start to walk down the sidewalk. 

You turn on the balls of your feet. “Yeah, Matty?”

Take your shot.

“Do you want to grab dinner sometime?” he asks, his hands gripping the top of his cane.

You take a few slow steps over to Matt, a warm feeling tingling through your body—and not from the liquor. “Matt Murdock, are you asking me out?” The phrase might have been misconstrued as teasing if it hadn’t been for the slight up-pitch in your voice and the nervous hammering of your heart in your chest. 

“Yes,” he breathes. “Only if you want to. But I really want to.”

The both of you feel like you could pass out, you’re both so lightheaded with excitement.

“I’d love to.”

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[farfromstrange]

“What if the way you hold me is actually what’s holy?” | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Warnings: SMUT! (18+), shower setting, oral f!receiving, masturbation, fantasizing, beard appreciation (kink?), dirty talk, mentioned unprotected p in v, slight Dom!Matt, DDBA!Matt, improper thoughts about a certain crucifix necklace, (kind of) religious symbolism, mentions of choking, praise kink, pet names, “good girl”, not perfectly edited (shocker)

Summary: Fantasies about your late-working boyfriend take over your much needed self-care shower—until he’s suddenly (and unexpectedly) right in front of you when you are about to take care of the problem yourself.

A/n: So, the Born Again trailer brought me back from the dead and made me so fucking needy for this man. I thought this would be the best opportunity to rewatch Daredevil and practice writing Matt again because I’ve been a bit out of practice lately. Let’s just say the experiment was successful, but I definitely owe it to my hormone levels. The gif below inspired this fic (as it probably has done to many writers in the fandom these past two days). Anyway. If you want to listen to the song I was listening to while writing, it’s “Guilty As Sin?” By Taylor Swift, hence the title. Other than they, enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated!

Read Me On AO3!

The warm water from the shower head above runs down your clammy skin, seeping into your pores and aching muscles. You have been dreaming about this ever since you got home from work. 

The apartment is quiet, save for the little noise you make in the bathroom. Matt called you earlier, telling you he would be late and that you shouldn’t wait up for him; you expected as much after he and Foggy caught a high-profile case a couple of weeks ago. 

When he isn’t busy at work, he tries to fulfill his duty to protect the city. You’re not mad; you knew what you were signing up for when you fell in love with him, but that doesn’t change the fact that you miss him sometimes. Or rather, all the time. It doesn’t matter if he’s at work or wandering around in red leather, searching for a fight—you always miss him. 

There’s not a day that goes by that you’re not worried he might not come back to you. You can only hold on to the thought of him coming home in the middle of the night, crawling into bed beside you because he’s too tired to shower, wrapping his arms around you as though you are the only thing anchoring him to reality. It makes you appreciate what you have in him. 

The thing about Matt is that he feels he has to do penance for every little thing he has ever done, whether his actions hurt people or not; he loathes himself for who he is, which is absurd to you but to him, it makes sense. Perhaps it’s the catholic in him, or all those years of losing soulmates, or maybe it’s both.

His shampoo smells faintly of sandalwood and the rainforest, but only if you focus closely. You like that it makes your skin soft, and when you wrap yourself in his silk sheets at night, it’s almost like he’s all over you before he physically can be. 

You close your eyes and you focus on the feel of him, imagining your hands are his. You imagine his calloused fingers trailing over your heated skin, exploring every dip and every curve, even though he already knows the wonderland of your body inside and out. His lips on yours, traveling down your neck to your shoulder to your chest… a shiver runs down your spine, pooling in your core. You’re on fire, and he isn’t even with you. 

He’s at the office, sleeves probably rolled up, the first two buttons of his dress shirt undone, loosening his tie with that strained look he gets when he’s stressed. Or maybe he’s on his way to Fogwell’s Gym so he won’t disturb you before he puts the suit on, fists raining down on a sandbag as sweat drips down his body, and he grunts whenever he lands a hit. 

You were just trying to have a nice shower, but Matt always manages to invade your every thought like a burglar on a mission. 

It’s just not fair how he always looks so sinful when he’s at his wit’s end. Oh, you love that look he gets when he’s feral. And you suddenly remember how long it has been since you got to touch each other. Since he let the devil out on you. Since he came home in the middle of the night and fucked you into the mattress because he was still so full of adrenaline. 

It has been so long since you two got to have a nice dinner together and you last rode him on his leather couch until you were both sticking to it, not even thinking about stopping; since he devoured you for hours and hours and hours until you were almost severely dehydrated and overstimulated from the orgasms he tore from you. 

You bite your lip so you won’t moan into the void of the bathroom. If you touch yourself now, he will know when he comes home. For a moment, you consider it. You slide your hand from your chest down your stomach. The water is slowly starting to grow cold. You just need to take the edge off.  Lower, lower, and lower, and—

“Don’t,” Matt’s voice reverberates in your ear. His hand slides over yours, calloused fingers on the back of your hand. 

The veil of fantasy burns to the ground. Your heart stops, then picks up the pace at a million miles an hour. In an instant, you turn around to face him, a gasp dying on your lips.

He’s right there, clothes discarded on the floor before the shower, no doubt. The golden crucifix around his neck offers a sinful contrast to his milky skin. You have always wondered if he was made out of marble rather than skin and bone. How can one person be this beautiful—this close to perfection and still be human? 

Matt is close enough for you to feel his heartbeat against your own. His hands slide to your forearms to make sure you don’t slip. You can see your wrecked reflection in his hazel irises. 

His unfocused gaze is right on you, boring through your skull into your soul. Only he can read you like an open book, listen to your body, and know exactly what you want, what you crave. He thinks of himself as the devil, but all you see is an angel. He’s the sun. To you, at least, he’s everything. The moon, the sun, the stars, and the entire fucking universe.

He caught you when you were about to touch yourself, and he’s naked. Really fucking naked. This is not how you imagined tonight to go. 

His chest heaves with a deep inhale of your scent, forehead coming to rest against yours. 

“You’re home,” you whisper. 

His lips curl into a smile—not a smirk but a genuine smile. “Yeah.”

“But you said you guys had that case, and then you were gonna go out…”

Matt cuts you off, “I missed you,” he says. “Couldn’t go out without seeing you.”

He chose you over the city. You never doubted Daredevil meant more to him than you, but hearing it out loud almost brings tears to your eyes.

“I missed you too,” you answer. So much. Days, weeks, seconds, all the fucking time. 

He’s so smug about it, too, when he tells you, “I know.”

The water keeps falling around you, drowning out the noise of the city and pearling off his necklace. He should have taken it off. If he wanted to shower with you, he should have taken it off because the need for him that makes your cunt pulse in desperation feeds off of the mere thought of taking the cold metal into your mouth while he pounds into you like a madman. 

He doesn’t look agitated, not at all, but there is a dark shadow falling over Matt’s bearded face. It’s a calculated shadow rooted in a need for control, and who are you to deny him the only thing he can control?  

“Hey,” he grabs your chin, “Tell me. What were you doing in there, hm?” 

You bite your lip. “Just… showering.”

“Just showering?” He brushes his nose against yours. “You know I can hear your heartbeat…”

You nod. Your lips brush, but he doesn’t kiss you. Not yet. You can taste the remnants of his last coffee, the familiar warmth of his mouth on yours, but he refuses to give you the satisfaction. You crave him so much that fireworks have started erupting on your skin wherever his fingers dare to travel; it isn’t fair. He isn’t fair. 

Matt studied the science of driving you crazy, and now you are bordering on the edge of madness. Alone. 

“Mhm. So, I know you’re lying…” He moves to your cheek, his breath hot when he speaks, “And I know when you’re touching yourself. ‘Cause I can smell how fucking wet you are, sweetheart.” 

There he is. The relentless, feral animal you fantasized about before. The man driven by primal need and the sheer power of his senses rather than rational thought, and yet he knows exactly what he is doing. He’s a musician playing you like a delicate violin, pushing her to the breaking point but never fully destroying.

“Like I said,” you breathe, “I missed you.”

He presses his lips to your cheek, almost like a reward. “I know,” he says. “Probably been thinking about me, too, with your hand on your pussy…” 

You swallow a needy moan that would have been too embarrassing. It’s been a long few weeks. Neither of you will be able to resist for long, you know that, so you decide you have to be bold tonight. “And what’re you gonna do about it?” you ask.

Though stunned for a moment, the smirk on Matt’s face isn’t far out of reach. “That’s my girl.”

Your back hits the now warm tiles of the shower wall before you can string together another remark, and then, finally—fucking finally—his lips are on yours. Kissing you. Devouring you. Breathing air into your aching lungs. He tastes like paradise, the Garden of Eden, and the six circles of hell all at once. It’s all the same to you, anyway. 

As long as you’re with him, you don’t care where you end up. No amount of torture could take away the love you feel for him, and you know that with Matt, even weathering the stormy seas of hell would be worthwhile. It’s sick and twisted how far you would go for this man, but you can’t find a single bone in your body that cares.  

His tongue forces its way into your mouth, tasting you, and inhaling you like his sole source of life support. You don’t bother fighting for dominance; you’re all his. Your body is telling him to command you. Your mind is screaming for him to touch you in any way he pleases, so help him God, and the chain around his neck keeps sinfully dangling against his toned chest. You want to bite it. You’re going to bite it. But not yet. 

When it is time for you to swim to the surface for air, he pulls away. His lips move from yours to the corner of your mouth. He kisses there, taking his time to explore what he has explored many times before. But Matt Murdock is an addict, and you are his drug of choice, so why would he ever stop? 

He kisses your cheek, your eyes, and the bridge of your nose. That’s how he sees you. Either with his fingers or his mouth or both. Touching you. Listening to you. He wants to see you in his own way. In a way that is far more intimate than you admiring his objective beauty could ever be.

“So beautiful,” he whispers between kisses. When he says it, you know it has to be true, even when you don’t see yourself in the same light as him.

His beard is rough where he kisses you. He has grown it out quite a bit, not having the time to bother shaving. The specks of gray that have started appearing as he got older should be illegal, you think, staring at him through hazy eyes. It should be illegal to look this good.

You caress his face, palm covering the entirety of his cheek. So beautiful, you want to say, but you don’t have the words.

The confession of love tumbles against your skin, softly, breathlessly, and he dips his head into the crook of your neck. He seeks your pulse point to press his lips against the beat of your heart. Your head falls back against the tiles. He’s a fucking menace, but he’s gentle about it. So, so gentle.

The hands-on your hips pull you closer, as close as you can get. Your nipples brush his chest, and you can feel him growing hard against you. He’s hot, red, and flushed, and with his lips against your neck, sucking and biting and licking some more, the shower water isn’t the only thing running down your thighs. You’ve been wet just thinking about him; Matt is here now, and he has no intention of stopping until you’re screaming his name.

Your skin is raw from the way he’s moving his face against you, suctioning his lips right where he can feel your pulse reaching for him. Reacting to him.

“Matthew,” you moan, breathless. “Please.” 

He hums, fingers digging into your flesh to keep his composure. The sound of his name from your lips in such ecstasy makes his cock swell to the point all he wants is to sink into you and fuck you against the wet shower wall until you can’t walk anymore. He wants to wrap his hand around your throat, just holding you there as you take it like the good girl you are. God, he wants to do so many things to you. 

He wants to push all of your buttons and reward you for it. He wants to feel your nails running down his back until he’s bleeding. He wants to eat your pussy until you forget your name, and when he’s done with that, he wants to do even more because that is the kind of animal you turn him into. That is what you do to him. You consume him with your mere existence and your love you keep pouring into him like a glass about to overflow, a glass so full yet so fucking empty at the same time, and he has been neglecting you for far too long to hold back now—yes, the water bill be damned!

“I love it when you beg,” he growls, feeling his voice vibrate through your skin. Like he’s in your veins.

You whimper. Oh, that sound. That sweet, sweet sound. It seems to do him in. Matt sinks to his knees like he would in front of God in church—like Mary knelt in front of Jesus after he got crucified. But there are no stained windows, no crosses, and no confessional booth in sight; you’re his place of worship, and your body is the altar. You are the only constant in his world on fire. You always want him to set you on fire, too. 

Once on his knees in front of you, his cock straining high and mighty against his stomach, he grabs your thigh and places it over his shoulder. No rush. You can barely catch your breath. 

Burning along the inside of your thigh, Matt kisses his way toward where you need him most. Your core yearns for him. Your hand slips from his face, searching the tiles behind you for something to hold onto. 

He’s quick to bring your hands back to his hair. “Don’t let go,” he says. 

It’s almost embarrassing that the only sound you can make is a grunt, and when your brain finally catches up, it’s too late. He’s impatient. Desperate. And he places his lips in a gentle kiss against your clit. The sudden contact makes you jolt, but that is not nearly all of it. 

He tests the waters. Once, twice, even a third time, gently kissing along your slick folds. You instinctively tug at his hair, but that doesn’t deter him. Matt inhales your scent, tasting your essence on his tongue; he would bathe in it if he could. 

You cry out when he dives in. He parts your folds with his tongue, sucking and licking until his face is covered. The obscene noise of lips smacking against wet skin goes straight to your head. He can hear the wetness gushing out of you, every twitch of your muscles and hitch of your breath, and he sucks a little harder on your sensitive clit. You’re scared you might fall. 

“Fuck!” Your moans are as obscene as the sound of him eating you out. You grind against him, at first involuntarily, but then he moans against you, and you can’t help it; the vibrations he sends through you continue to pool in your cunt, tightening the coil that is waiting to snap. 

Matt prods your entrance with his tongue, the tip of his nose digging just right into that sensitive bundle of nerves he lost when your hips first jerked. He’s completely out of it, hooded eyes rolled back into his skull while you are almost splitting yours open on the dark tiles. The cross necklace is sticky with his saliva as he drinks from you like you are the spring fueling his ocean. He’s thrusting into his hand, pre-cum leaking from his cock, but his mouth never wavers. He has a job to do. 

Your walls clench around what little of his tongue is inside of you. There is nothing more arousing than the sight of him touching himself because the taste of you is bringing him to the brink of an inevitable orgasm. Because he wants to come with you. Because he’s desperate and he can only imagine being inside of you as he licks away at you. It’s a kind of dedication that makes you feral. No one has ever loved you quite like he has, and no one will ever eat your pussy as only he can. 

“Matt,” you choke out. “Fuck, I’m gonna—’m gonna come. Don’t stop. Don’t…”

As if he could. He flicks his tongue from left to right, painting shapes you have never felt before over every last of your nerve endings. You’re quivering. You’re shaking. You are turning the bathroom into a concert hall for the symphony of your pleasure. 

He doesn’t stop to tell you to come, that would be futile. You couldn’t possibly stop the wave headed for your shore. You can’t warn him. You can’t do anything other than let it happen. The coil snaps and your orgasm crashes into you at full force, shattering you into a million pieces. You grind against him until you’re sure he is branded into your skin forever. 

Matt holds you through it, working his tongue against you to prolong the electricity running through your veins. He gets lost in the echo of his name, stroking his cock harder and faster, and within seconds of you, he’s coming, too. He spurts into his hand and on your thigh, moaning deliciously into your pussy. For a moment, he’s stiff, though as you are starting to come back to him, he’s starting to come back to you. 

The aftermath of your orgasm is quiet. His lips slip from your swollen folds eventually, and he pulls away to rest his cheek against your inner thigh, the one resting over his shoulder. He’s still catching his breath, cock softening in his hands, but when you look down at him, he’s a wreck. For you. 

Slowly, he rises back to his feet. You look at him, unsteady now on both of your feet. He wraps his arms around you. “You okay?” he asks softly. 

You lean into his hand when he places it on your cheek. “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m…perfect.”

“You were so good for me. So good.” 

The distance between you dissipates, foreheads falling together in absolute exhaustion. He smells and tastes of you. You kiss him softer than you ever have. “I love you,” you whisper, and he smiles because he knows.

You don’t count the minutes you stay like that, kissing. It might have been an hour, not nearly enough. Matt reaches for the water when it starts getting cold, and he lifts you to wrap your legs around his waist. 

You frown. “Aren’t you going out tonight?” 

He shakes his head. “No, sweetheart,” he says, “I’m not done with you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Gotta make sure you know how much I missed you.”

The giddy smile on your face when you kiss him again is involuntary, but not unnecessary. He giggles, too, before you finally shut him up.

Hell’s Kitchen can live without him for one night, that much is for sure. And when he finally thrusts into you and you bite down on the golden metal of that godforsaken crucifix to stifle your scream as he fucks you to hell and back in a way that is gentle yet possessive, you know this is the only place Matt needs to be tonight—for both of you.

[bellaxgiornata]

List of Installments for The Devil at Your Window

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Warnings/tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty

In the middle of a New York City blizzard, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen accidentally lands himself on your fire escape–quite literally. When he accepts your invitation to warm up inside your apartment, you're surprised at how well the conversation flows all night with the curious and attractive masked vigilante. He's intriguing, though what you find even more intriguing is his unexpected returns to your window after that night–and his flirting. But when it seems like you're not the only one beginning to develop real feelings, he pulls back and you're left wondering two things: Why did he disappear and who really is the mysterious Devil that you've inevitably fallen for?

List of Installments

Part One: Snowed In

Part Two: Borrowed Scarf

Part Three: A Show of Trust

Part Four: One of the Good Ones

Part Five: Looking Out for the Devil

Part Six: A Clarifying Moment

Part Seven: In Denial

Part Eight: Interruptions

Part Nine: A Hard Problem

Part Ten: Blood & Honesty {Coming Soon}

Part Eleven: Separation

Part Twelve: Still Awake

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the slow night

buttercup, chapter six

a/n: he a hoe and I love him. thank you and goodnight.

summary: as the peck blossomed into something much more ravenous, a soft laugh began to billow out of you, “Mr. Murdock,” you tilted your head back as his lips began to flutter down your neck, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you came over here to seduce me.”

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, smut, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, the black daredevil suit, kissing, semi public sex (at the bakery), clothed sex, dirty talk, hair pulling, oral, protected sex, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms

word count: 3244

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Leaning against the doorway to the small bakery bathroom, you watched Walter’s tongue poke out the side of his mouth as he flicked glittery stripes of eyeliner over his lids. 

“You sure you’re okay with closing up on your own tonight?” you heard Howard ask you as he sat on a low stool some space behind you, bending down to tie his shoes. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you smiled, glancing back over your shoulder at him, “you two deserve a night off.”

Staring out into space, your uncle leaned his tattooed forearms on his robust thighs a moment as he murmured, “you know, I don’t even remember the last time we went out…” casting a glance past you at the bald man in front of the mirror, Howard raised his voice, “honey, did you find out what queens are performing tonight?”

Popping the lid back on the pencil, the former club kid tilted his head approvingly in the reflection, “I think Holly Day still works Friday nights there, but other than that I have no idea,” he exited the bathroom, only to press a small peck to your cheek as he slid passed.

“Urgh,” you groaned with a smile, letting your inner child temporarily show as you dragged the back of your palm over the faint lipstick stain, “well, have fun you two!”

“Night, night, cupcake,” Howard blew you a few brief kisses as the pair scurried out of the shop, “don’t forget to feed the sourdough starter, oh! And mix a new batch of ginger maple cookies, portion them out and pop them in the freezing–, also–”

“Howard,” you interrupted him with a smile just as Walter pulled open the back door for them to exit, “I know what I need to do. I’ve done this countless of times before, I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Alright,” he exhaled slowly.

“If it’ll help, I can send you a picture of the place before I lock up.”

A relieved smile then warmed up your uncle’s features, “thank you, sweetie.” 

Half yanking his husband out of the door, Walter offered you one last wave, “bye, Y/n!” before the solid door slammed shut behind them. 

Bending down, you put the last one of the wide and clean bowls away on the bottom shelf of the metal storage system in the corner of the kitchen. 

The skirt of your dress swooshed gently around your legs as you straightened back up, like a summer breeze, fluttering against your skin. Reaching for a clean cloth, you briefly ran it under the tap before wiping down the aftermath beside the sink following your dance with the dishes. One of the tiny puddles of splashed water soaked your apron as you leaned over the steel table to reach deeper, turning it a darker shade of brown right over your belly button. 

Just then, from out of nowhere, “hi,” the voice of your neighbour echoed throughout the kitchen, thoroughly startling you and causing the rag to drop from your grasp.

“Ah!” you jumped, haven not even heard the back door creak open, “Matthew!” pressing a soothing palm to your chest as you spun around, a light giggle flowed from your lips, “oh my god, you scared the crap out of me!”

“Sorry,” he chuckled, leisurely leaning against the far counter close to the back exit. 

You already knew he’d be out on patrol tonight, but actually seeing him stand there before you was something else entirely. The black suit clung tight to his physic, and now that grave injuries no longer distracted and adorned his visage, the vision of the obsidian vigilante that stood in front of you proficiently provided you with a sinful shiver that trickled down your spine. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, attempting to brush off the tingle that bloomed between your thighs. 

A bold smirk bloomed on his lips, visible below the dark mask, as he slowly stepped closer to you, “it’s a slow night,” gently tugging his gloves off and tossing them to the table he passed, an action you didn’t expect to find as seductive as you evidently did, goosebumps now blossoming all along your arms. 

“A slow night, huh?” you chuckled, tilting your chin as he neared. 

“And I was in the area,” he cocked his head as his hands settled on either side of your frame, leaning against the counter behind you.   

“How convenient,” you smiled, his light-hearted explanations not convincing you in the slightest. Matt’s fingers then found your chin, tilting it further up as he bent down to brush his lips against your own. Your knees nearly buckled as you felt yourself swiftly sink into the intoxicating sensation, your arms gliding up and over the black fabric that hugged him, till they were locked around his neck. As the peck blossomed into something much more ravenous, a soft laugh began to billow out of you, “Mr. Murdock,” you tilted your head back as his lips began to flutter down your neck, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you came over here to seduce me.”

Mirroring your own chuckle, he playfully tested, “and what if I am, huh?”

“Wait, really?” you giggled, your hands seized each side of his face and pulled him back a bit as his hot mouth worked wonders at making you lose your train of thought, “you sure you weren’t just hungry or something?”

“Hm,” his palms slid up to cup over yours as he cheekily said, “something, yeah…” peeling your fingers off of his stubbly cheeks, he placed a few pecks in your open palms, “I would fucking love a taste of something sweet.”

Tearing your gaze away from his onyx visage, you briefly cast a glance around the space, “uhm, I don’t really know what’s left over from today, but there might be someth–”

“Nuh-uh, that’s not the kinda treat I was thinking of,” he smirked brightly as he wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you in closer to his warmth as his fingers sneaked under the apron’s knot. 

Finally reading his obvious subtext, “o-oh,” you couldn’t help but giggle as he then leaned down to kiss you again, swallowing your laugh till it melted away into a low moan that vibrated against his lavish tongue. 

Scrambling closer, you damn nearly climbed him like a tree with how desperately you clawed at his mass. When his touch slid further down your frame and curved around your ass, he briefly offered you a squeeze that you swore soared all the way to the sensitive nerve endings in your throbbing clit, before he scooped you up and sat you down on the steel countertop. As he slotted his width in between your parted thighs, his teeth playfully caught your bottom lip. 

Fluttering your fingers further up, you cupped the sides of his face as the heated make-out slowly began to ease. The tips of your touch grazed the bottom of his black mask as you gently pulled back.

Blinking back at him through your lashes, your digits ghosted over the material as you uttered, “…can I take this off?” 

A faint smile tugged at his lips as he softly nodded, “mhm,” and let you peel the charcoal mask off of him. Letting it drop to the table right beside where you sat, you gazed back at him for a moment, his chocolate eyes gently crinkled up in bliss as you briefly traced a light caress over a few of his newly revealed features before you sealed your lips with his once more. 

Undoubtedly, your panties must have clung to your core at this point from how soaked they felt. 

Abruptly, Matt’s soft lips suddenly strayed from yours. Fluttering your gaze open, a giggle bubbled out of your lungs as you saw him slowly sink down to the tile floor beneath you. 

“Matty,” you beamed, your touch straying from his cheek as he settled down on his knees. 

Slowly raising a sliver of your hemline up to your knees, his lips grazed against your shin and leisurely roamed further north. 

Burying your fingers in the fabric of your dress, you gently began to hike it up till it, and the brown apron, bunched above your hips. 

Your breathing was ragged, and your mouth hung agape when his kisses neared your centre. One of his warm palms stayed planted on your inner thigh after he’d split your legs further to grant himself better access as you sat there, nearly dangling on the edge. 

A shiver ran through you when he placed a brief kiss to the soaked spot soddening your underwear, before his reach extended and hooked the cotton to the side, a sting of your slick clung momentarily to the fabric before snapping back against your core. 

“Fuck,” he let out a gravelly groan and you felt his breath tickle your cunt before his hand, the one not clutching your soaked panties, curled around your frame and tugged you towards him, closing the minuscule distance between his zealous mouth and your glistening centre.

Parting your petals with dizzying laps, Matt let out a moan as he made out with your pussy, the tickling vibrations caused your thighs to tremble beside his head. 

“God…” spellbound, he pulled back for but a second, “your pussy tastes like fucking heaven,” before he tilted his chin and enraptured your clit, fervently sucking down on it in a way that made your eyes roll in your skull. 

“Oh my god, I–, I–…” you panted, sensing yourself race towards the finish line, but even with how incredible his tongue made you feel, deep down within you rumbled a feral feeling for more. As your pelvis bucked lightly against his efforts, you gasped, “Matt… get up…” unsure if you’d ever felt so empty in your entire life, “get up right fucking now.” When he rose, the lower part of his face glinting with your want, he didn’t get a chance to say anything before you yanked him by his shirt and crashed your lips against his. With the intoxicating taste of yourself lingering on your mouth, your heavy breath fanned across his face as you desperately uttered, “in the corner behind you, on the hook beside where my coat is, my bag, the little front pocket.”

Breathlessly, his expression fogged up in soft puzzlement, “what?” 

“I went to the drugstore earlier,” you said, hoping that you wouldn’t have to spell it out for him. 

It actually took him a second for him to realise what you were talking about, “oh,” as if he hadn’t hoped or expected anything more than what you’d just let him do. Crossing the room in mere moments, a playful chuckle rumbled from his chest as he fished out the box of condoms, “this is a big pack… were you planning on seducing me?”

Rolling your eyes, you giggled, “oh, shut up and get back here.”

As soon as he was back in your reach, your fingers began to fiddle with his belt, impatiently freeing him as you virtually drooled seeing the imprint of his cock strain against the dark fabric of his pants. 

“Put it on, please, please, I wanna feel you so bad,” you begged as he ripped the foil packet open. 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Yes, please,” your hungry eyes were glued to his breath-taking fist as he offered himself a brief pump before he hastily rolled the condom on, “Matt, if you don’t fuck me right now then I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

Sighs flowed from the both of you in unison when Matt sank into your drooling cunt. You almost felt drunk, that’s how wound up you’d gotten.

“Oh, you feel so fucking good,” Matt exhaled, letting his forehead melt against your own as he rolled his hips, getting impossibly deep before drawing back a bit and finding a rhythm that caused your legs to be like crickets, shakily rubbing against either side of his frame as fucked you, “sweetheart–, christ… you’re about to cum, aren’t you?” his lips tilted up into a smirk. 

“D-don’t you dare stop,” you panted, clawing needily against his torso. 

“I won’t, I promise,” he then sank a hand down between your frames to tickle your puffy pearl, “I could do this all day, baby.” 

You collapsed back on your elbows when your pussy fluttered around him and a lewd cry accompanied the high. 

Panting against the cool table, you hazily blinked up at him as he then uttered in the deepest sincerity. 

“God, I'm crazy about you, Y/n,” his expression was soft and dreamlike, “you know that?”

Your eyes went wide a moment, entirely forgetting how to fill your aching lungs, “really?” you then regained control rather gracelessly as you nearly coughed, “sorry... I forgot how to breathe for a second there,” the grin that bloomed on your lips nearly hurt.  

Snatching one of your hands up in his, he weaved his fingers with your own, “you okay?”

“Yeah… I’m amazing…” you gazed up at him, “I’m also completely and utterly wild about you,” you then tugged on his hand, drawing him down enough for your lips to graze against his. 

His hips instinctively rolled as your tongue flicked across his own, grinding briefly into your sensitivity before he noticed and went back to being completely still within you. 

But when your sloppy kiss then parted, you tilted your own hips a bit, slowly fucking yourself shallowly on his cock. As he gently offered you a tender thrust, gradually pulling out of your clinging cunt just a tad, you glanced down between the shy space betwixt you and spotted the ring of your cream that stained the base of his dick. 

“Fucking hell,” you whimpered as he straightened his spine back out and brought the back of your palm up to his lips, “I don’t get how I bounce back so quickly with you. It’s like you just have to smile and then I’m just–, oh my god!” you moaned as he changed his angle, brushing directly against a spot that sent a delicious shiver down your spine. 

“Oh, you like that? Right there?” he repeated the same lavish motion. 

“Y-yes–,” with your interlocked fingers, he then pulled you back up to a sitting position, the shift leaving you breathless, “fuck. You feel so good right now,” his hand let go of yours as it then snaked around your back, his burly forearm supporting your spine as the fingers reached up to weave within your hair, gently scraping his short nails over the nape of your neck.

Drawing you in even closer, your chest pressed against his as he kissed your cheek sweetly while he kept his pace meticulous and precise. 

Hugging onto his broad shoulders, your head dropped down to rest against one of them as you then muttered, “harder,” your gaze hazy on the kitchen behind him before your eyes fluttered shut. When he then snapped his hips forward a little more electrically, you weakly repeated in his ear, “harder.”

Slamming into your needy cunt so fiercely that the sound of your skin colliding echoed off the tile walls and a bit of drool began to stain his dark shirt as your cheek stayed smooshed against his width. 

“That it?” he growled silkily, “huh?” but when you couldn’t form any coherent words within the mess of moans that flowed from your lips, you didn’t have to see his face to know the grin that bloomed on his face, “aw, it’s alright, sweetheart,” his grip tightened in your hair, “you’re doing so good for me,” tugging intoxicatingly right at the roots, “just relax… that’s it… good girl…”

Keeping his pace rough, he lavishly slid out of you till just his bulbous tip plugged you up, before ramming his cock back in so feverishly that you could scarcely breathe at all, just tremble in his embrace, listening to the pure filth that he murmured in your ear, till you both tumbled over the edge. 

With his spent girth nuzzled against your tender pussy, faint hums of contentment flowed from your lungs as Matt gently stroked your hair, his other arm wrapped around you as well as he kept your sluggish frame close to his long after you’d both regained your breaths. 

As your fingers disappeared below his neckline and softly rubbed against the warm skin, your voice eventually found his ear, “okay, so I know that you didn’t come in here for a late-night snack,” the corners of your lips tilted upwards, “but now I’m kinda hungry.” 

With a gentle chuckle rumbling within his chest, he briskly tugged himself away and untangled himself from you, “one second,” his lips pressed against your hairline before you saw him turn around and wander out of the kitchen. 

As you watched him disappear into the front of the bakery, you tugged your panties back over your mess and pushed your dress back down, “oh, I'm not sure if there’s anything left out there–”

“Do you want a raisin bun or a very seedy one?” he asked and your brows flew up as you still hadn’t gotten used to how perceptive his heightened senses let him be. 

“Oh, uhm,” you blinked, completely blown away, “raisin.” 

Appearing before you once more, he handed you the speckled bun, “here.”

Smiling adoringly back at him, “thank you,” you sank your teeth into the pillowy treat before offering him a small bite, which he gladly accepted as a tender laugh rolled out of him. When you had consumed the sweet bun, a soft yawn promptly flowed out of you, “fuck,” his palms were warm at your waist as your arms briefly curled up beside your head, “I can’t wait to get back home and sleep.”

“How much do you have left to do till you can lock up?”

“Not too much,” your hands dropped back down and rested atop of his for a moment, “how about you? How long do you think you’ll be out there?” 

“Probably not too much longer either,” his head tilted gently before he leaned back in. 

“Alright,” you smiled, tenderly pressing your lips to his before he snatched up the discarded mask and tugged it back over his features. As his feet began to carry him towards the exit, he paused as soon as you said, “hey Matt?”

“Yeah?” the vigilante twisted back to face you. 

A bubble of nerves suddenly fluttered in your belly as you uttered, “when you get back tonight, could you maybe–, uhm… or maybe I could–…”

Swiftly getting at what you were trying to convey, Matt simply marched right back to where you sat and pulled you in for a kiss. Cradling your cheeks a moment longer as he slowly pulled back, he smiled, “there’s a spare key to my place behind the radiator in the hallway.”

Gazing back at him, you uttered, “okay,” feeling like you were floating on a cloud. 

“I'll try not to get home too late,” he breathed, pressing his lips to yours one last time before he backed up again. 

Calling after him, “be safe!” he stopped on the threshold of the back door for a second, silhouetted by the dark city as he flashed you a grin before he disappeared into the night, leaving you in the bakery alone, feet dangling off the table as a bright smile tenaciously lit up your face. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[sunflowersandsapphires]

In His Element

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: After watching Matt cross examine a witness, your patience is worn thin, leaving you to plead with the devil.

warnings: SMUT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. fingering, brief masturbation, descriptions of fem genitalia, dom!Matt's filthy mind, and also him being so attractive

a/n: THIS IS MY FIRST EVER SMUT THAT WASN'T GHOST WRITTEN SO IT MIGHT NOT BE GREAT. I am going to keep practicing for y'all though! As always, please comment/reblog and leave me feedback if you desire :)

w/c: 3.5k

With clammy fingers, you smoothed your wrinkled skirt until it lay flat over your knees, crossing your ankles under the pew you were seated in. In your haste to find a seat before the trial resumed, you’d landed directly below an A/C vent, which was blowing a harsh current over you. The hair along your limbs stood on end, your heart pumping your blood in smaller loops, leaving your extremities to slowly wither. It should’ve been uncomfortable, but you were far too focused on the heat churning in your gut as your eyes followed your partner’s pacing form.

Hands stacked loosely over the handle of his cane, Matt’s head tilted slightly as he prepared to ask the prosecution’s witness a question. He was facing away from you, but you could imagine the exact emotionless-yet-somehow-haughty expression that graced his face. It was one of the attributes of your boyfriend’s stoic appearance that emerged behind the courtroom doors that you found mind-numbingly attractive.

“Officer Bauer,” Matt’s voice sent a shudder down your spine. Though the man wore a literal mask most nights, he had a variety of metaphorical personality-masks that suited various environments—his everyday polite demeanor, the protective and concerned boyfriend that always surfaced whenever you were threatened or hurt, and, notably, the serious, calculating attorney persona he adopted during his trials.

Biting your tongue to freeze your body in place, you inhaled slowly, trying not to draw attention to yourself. A quick glance to the jury confirmed that you were not the only one entranced by the dark-haired man as he strode back and forth, a few feet in front of the witness stand. He had you all captivated.

Shifting his weight to his heels, Matt was angled enough that you could see the innocent smile he directed at the man sweating on the stand. “Can you tell me what you were doing at the corner of 52nd and 8th on the afternoon of Thursday, March 6th?”

A simple question, innocuous enough that the callous man he was questioning let out an indignant scoff as he answered. ”Patrolling.“

You rolled your eyes at his single word response, his disdain for the judicial process evident in his slouched posture and bored tone. He was practically falling asleep in the worn leather chair, his half-lidded eyes trained on Matt like a dazed serpent. The man looked foul and, from the little that Matt had told you, his personality matched.

Despite the apathetic participant he was dealing with, Matt remained calm and composed. His smile widened marginally, revealing a flash of his pristine teeth as he huffed in amusement.

"Of course. And when you were on patrol you noticed the defendant amongst a group of young adults. Is that correct?"

Your chest was convulsing as your heart pounded from your rib cage. Matt was exceptionally intelligent and had explained his tactic for cross-examining this inattentive cop, but that didn't make it any less suspenseful as you watched his game of cat and mouse play out before your very eyes.

The officer's slitted eyes wandered to the ceiling as he sighed. "Yeah."

"Can you describe the group to me?" Matt lifted his shoulders as he posed the question, not quite shrugging, but definitely indicating that, while he believed the leathery-skinned witness had not yet satisfied his curiosity.

“Buncha kids. Messin around.” Four words rather than one. That was progress, right? Akin to the marble rolling down a track at the beginning of a complex Rube Goldberg machine. The task was far from accomplished, but there was motion somewhere within the structure.

“And, as your partner stated earlier, most of the kids were white, is that correct?” The first hint of something substantial. You pressed your lips together, holding in a smile as your mind started to piece together the rocky, cobblestone path your boyfriend was laying for his uncooperative witness.

“Yes.”

“What encouraged you and your partner to approach the defendant and other students in the park?” Tone laced with what sounded like genuine curiosity, Matt raised a brow at the arresting officer. His ability to color his voice in a way that would appeal to the jury never ceased to amaze you.

“We got news of a nearby break in, and they were actin' suspicious.”

At this point, you were pretty much tuning the lazy cop out—waiting for Matt to open his mouth again, to speak in the beautifully deep, almost hoarse way he always did when defending his clients. His words were direct, controlled in the same manner his general conduct was, his anger and need for justice hidden behind an expressionless facade.

It was intoxicating, his ability to hold back. Almost as divine as his ability to let go.

“Can you describe these suspicious activities for the court?”

Fidgeting with a loose thread on the hem of your skirt, you let Matt's voice drape over you like a wool blanket on a winter night. Comforting, warm, and a tad prickly. Only ears as finely tuned to the man's peculiarities could pick up the barbed edge of his questioning—thousands of serrated teeth waiting to ensnare the animal as soon as it was within their grasp. Knowing how talented your partner was in his field, that moment wasn't far away.

The chair creaked as the cop shifted with a hefty shrug. “Ya know, talkin' all low to each other, shovin' things in their bags while lookin' over their shoulder...” He trailed off, mashing a fist against his nose with an awful throat clearing sound.

“And, while on your patrol, you noticed the group acting this way.” More of a statement than a question. Matt was closing in.

“Yea, that’s what I just said.” The cop snorted, completely unaware of the brutal fate that awaited him.

“So you and your partner decided to intervene?” Matt reasoned aloud. He was pacing again. Your attention had been solely on his voice, not his footsteps.

“Course that’s our job.” The ignorant man to the right of the judge shifted again in his seat, his frustration visibly growing as Matt continued to hurl benign and repetitive questions at him.

“And when you exited your vehicle, what happened?” Matt asked.

“They took off.” Bauer answered, irritated.

“On foot?” Matt clarified.

“Yes.” The witness rubbed forcefully at the bridge of his nose again.

“And it’s true that my client left with them?” Gesturing softly to the young woman seated at the defense's table to indicate to the room who his client was, in case they needed a reminder.

 “Yes.” Bauer confirmed.

“So the entire group dispersed on foot?” Matt asked with an air of confusion. His rumbling baritone lifting on the tail end to indicate his dismay.

“Yep.” Bauer grit his teeth, tiring quickly as Matt persisted.

“At the same time?” Matt asked with the same bewildered look on his face.

“Yes.” His witness growled.

“The same group that was acting in a suspicious manner?” Matt questioned.

“Yes. I just said that.” Voice raising, you could see Bauer's face getting redder by the second.

“Then can you tell me, Officer Bauer, why you and your partner BOTH decided to pursue my client?”

Bauer's eyes flashed with something similar to understanding, his mouth remaining clamped shut as Matt stepped closer, closing in on his prey.

“You’ve previously reported and just now confirmed that the entire group left when they noticed you approaching. Yet you and your partner both were solely focused on my client rather than any of the other members of the group. Tell me, officer, is that because of her race?” Matt's words flew out of his mouth rapidly, a string of poorly concealed accusations within them.

You barely had time to appreciate Matt's ingenuity before the lead prosecutor bolted out of her seat. "Objection, Your Honor, that is clearly leading."

"Sustained. Counselor?" The judge glanced at Matt for his next move.

Holding up a hand, Matt didn't miss a beat. “I’ll rephrase. Officer, what reason did you have for pursuing my client rather than any of the other students?”

"Well, she was acting weird," Bauer stammered, his eyes bulging with fear. He'd spotted the threat then.

“In the same manner as the rest of the group, as you previously stated, all of whom you approached with your partner. Yet both of you ran after my client.”

“Yes.” Nodding cautiously, Bauer's voice was suddenly small.

“And, besides her race, can you give any other reason she stood out to you as more suspicious than the rest of the group?”

“Objection, leading.” The prosecution called out, her voice a bit shrill with desperation.

"Overruled. Mr. Murdock, please continue with your line of questioning." The judge's gaze flitted between the prosecutor and the witness who was now sweating profusely on the stand.

“Thank you, your honor. Officer Bauer, can you explain to the court exactly how my client was acting differently?” Changing the question slightly, Matt's lips twitched with the hint of a smirk.

“I don’t know, she, she just was!” Bauer cried, flustered.

“Is there any other difference between her and the rest of the group that you can explicitly state other than her appearance or her race?” Matt asked, cheeks twitching as he gleefully listened to the snare clasp around its victim.

“No.” Bauer answered. "But, but it wasn't like that!"

Turning to the judge, Matt's spine was straight with satisfaction as he announced his intentions. “Your honor, the defense would like to file a motion to dismiss this case on the grounds of selective enforcement. The combined testimony of Officers Bauer and Burke demonstrates an intent to frisk my client because she was black, not solely because of her actions, negating the principle of reasonable suspicion.”

The courtroom exploded, the witness and prosecution both howling in protest as the defendant and Matt both smirked. Grinning ecstatically, you stifled a laugh as the uproar continued, until the judge finally granted the dismissal. You couldn’t lessen your smile if you tried. 

Flooding out of the courtroom amidst the sea of spectators and journalists, you stepped out of the current as quickly as you could. Craning your neck over the waves of bobbing heads, you broke into a wide grin when you saw Matt trailing after the masses, cane sweeping inches from their ankles like he was chasing them out. As soon as he was within reach, you called his name, eagerly grasping his outstretched hand and tugging him out of the doorway.

“God, Matty, that was incredible.” You exclaimed breathlessly, wrapping him in a tight hug. His forehead landed against your hair, his nose skimming the shell of your ear as he shook with a resonant chuckle.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss against your neck, a guttural noise slipping out as he did. “Fuck, you smell so good.”

His words were barely audible, a secret to only be shared with you. They sent another wave of need straight to your core. “Matthew,” You mumbled, his name breaking off into a whine.

Another huff of laughter sounded in your ear. Planting another kiss against your neck, Matt's broad hands squeezed your hips. “My place. Now.”

“What about you?” You murmured, mouth watering as every touch from your boyfriend left a lingering patch of heat along your skin.

“I have a few things to finish up here, but I'll be there when I can. I promise.” You didn't need to hear his heartbeat to feel the honesty in his vow.

The idea of waiting for him made your knees tremble, the joints threatening to buckle as Matt swiped a calloused thumb over the bare skin of your waist, his hand beneath your shirt. “Matty, please.”

Matt shushed you sweetly. “Not here, angel. Be a patient girl for me and I'll make all your pain worth it, I promise.”

With one final squish of your hips, Matt separated from you.

The walk to Matt’s apartment was excruciating. With each step, the throbbing between your legs grew more intense. By the time you’d made it up the stairs and flopped onto his couch, you were practically panting with want. 

Now, you were desperately trying to focus on your book, but the words on the page might as well have been gibberish given how little you'd retained since you started. How were you supposed to manage when the image of Matt's parted lips was branded on the back of your eyelids.

“Be a patient girl for me and I'll make all your pain worth it, I promise.”

Patience was never your strongsuit.

Digging your front teeth into your lip, you dropped your head to the arm of Matt's couch with a thunk, whimpering as your discomfort crested. Blowing out a breath, you clenched the paperback book with vigor, fingernails stabbing the parchment inside, scarring it with tiny crescents. If only this book was Matt's broad back.

He loved when you got a little rough with him. You couldn't help it. As soon as his mouth was on you, your eyes shut, vision blanketed with stars. Your hands would grapple for whatever surface they could find to anchor you as Matt rocked the two of you in tandem, your nails carving scratches into Matt's beautiful, sporadically-freckled skin in the process.

The first time it happened, you'd been horrified. Stammering out an apology and offering to apply antibiotic gel to the red marks, but your boyfriend had just smiled, assuring you that he didn't mind.

“Each of those marks is a reminder that I'm yours, sweetheart.”

Arching your back as Matt's dulcet tone echoed in your ears, the book toppled to the ground with a flutter of pages. Hands wandering over your body, you reminded yourself to be patient.

Matt will be here soon. He will.

But not soon enough. A voice buried somewhere in your subconscious warned, encouraging your primal desires and urging your hands to free the hem of your blouse from where it was tucked beneath the waistband of your skirt. Fingertips trailing over the now-exposed skin of your lower belly, you hummed softly as a ripple of pleasure circled out from your fingertips.

Unbuttoning your skirt, you slowly loosened the fabric enough for your hand to dip under it. Dragging a finger over your panties towards your core, you hissed as it finally reached your delicate clit. The bundle of nerves was overly sensitive after being ignored for so long. Pulling the cotton aside, you pushed your finger between your folds, smiling as it danced over your clit. Circling it carefully with a single finger, you shuddered as your body began to buzz with a familiar thrill.

Rocking your hips into your hand slowly, you could barely hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears—which meant that the slam of a closing door caught you off guard.

Yanking your hand out of your underwear with a yelp, you sat up, frantically jerking your head towards the door.

“I thought I told you to wait for me, sweetheart.” Matt's face was shrouded by an array of shadows, the glint of his malicious smirk tinted red in the light of his living room window.

“I—I was!” You mumbled, arousal seeping into your panties as Matt stalked towards you with a laugh.

“You know I can tell when you're lying, sweets. Want to try that again?”

“Depends,” You retorted, adrenaline reigniting the confidence Matt always brought out in you. “Are you planning on apologizing for being so late?”

Chuckling sinfully, Matt cornered you against the back of the couch, fingers deftly unlooping the fabric of your skirt from the remaining buttons. Leaning down until your lips were practically touching, his mouth glanced against yours as he spoke, ignoring your question. "Do you know how difficult it is to remain coherent when you've clouded the entire courthouse in your scent?"

"W-what?" You stammered, gasping shallowly when Matt's teeth grazed the underside of your jaw, his lips kissing languidly along your neck.

"Did you miss me that much, sweetheart? Wanted me to take you right there on the floor before the jury?" Matt purred, making your cheeks thrum with bashful heat.

"I'm not the only one who wanted that, it seems." You grinned, cupping your hand over the noticeable bulge in his pants. “I can't help it, Matt. Watching you in your element...you're intoxicating. I can't listen to two words out of your mouth without wanting to drag you to the nearest bathroom.”

Palming his cock through the layers he wore, Matt growled into the skin of your neck, nipping at your pulse point. Static ricocheted from the impact, freezing you in place as your thighs flexed.

Shedding you of your skirt, Matt gently caressed the cotton covering your drenched pussy. “Can I—”

“Please,” You begged, choking in a breath before Matt's mouth crashed against yours. His stubble bristled against your skin, the small pinpricks a pleasant contrast to his plush lips. Tearing the remaining clothes from your legs, Matt threw his leg over your torso, encouraging you to fully recline against the leather. One hand cupping the back of your head, the other was splayed across your mound, a single dextrous finger parting your glistening lips.

He tasted like salt, like want. His tongue lapping at you like he needed to swallow you whole, like he couldn't get enough.

His cheeks ruffled as a strangled moan escaped him. “You're this wet for me, sweetheart?”

“All for you.” You panted, the air between you growing thick with feverish heat. “Always for you.”

With a beautiful grin, Matt's finger swiped over your entrance. “You ready?”

Nodding sloppily, you brought your hands up to cup his cheeks, tugging him back to your lips. Mouth colliding with yours, the force became bruising when your body rutted upwards, a jolt of satisfaction striking your every cell as Matt's finger entered you.

You hissed as the familiar pleasant pain washed over you. Arching your back as Matt pumped his digit upwards, you moaned, clapping a hand over your mouth as the sound escaped you. 

Matt chuckled. “No need to be quiet, sweetheart. Tell me how it feels.”

“So g-good, Matty.” You whimpered, every nerve within your folds quivering as Matt dragged his finger out of you, pushing it in again as he scraped his teeth over your neck. You cried out, vision going black as your body strained to find release. Your fingers dug into the silk beneath you, yanking at the sheets.

As your desperation grew, the rest of your limbs faded into numbness, your brain solely focused on the sensations of Matt’s callouses scraping against your walls—as if he was scratching an itch that had been niggling at you for hours. 

Matt hummed against your throat, pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit, making you yelp. The fire within you was out of control, your body drawn taught like the string of a bow. 

Wriggling slightly beneath his touch, your breaths became shallow, your stamina worn thin after watching him in court. You whined, twisting slightly to avoid launching yourself over the alluring edge into heavenly oblivion. 

“So close already, sweets?” He teased, repeatedly strumming the bundle of nerves. 

You moaned in assent, fisting the blankets in your clammy hands. His thick fingers tangled in your hair, giving your locks a tug and drawing a pleased yelp from your mouth. 

“Go on. Come for me.” Matt rasped, his breath fanning over your face. 

The command shoved you over the cliff, your lungs clenching as you stifled a scream. Your tailbone rutted up, your back arching off the mattress. Everything went white, your ears ringing as sheer pleasure coursed through your veins.

Matt was murmuring to you, his words muddled by the blood rushing in your ears. “–at’s my girl. Always such a good girl.” 

Rounding the peak, you collapsed to the mattress, your body trembling viciously. Each beat of your heart shook your rib cage, the motions rippling throughout your limbs. Hands flexing, you hissed as the muscles stretched out of mashed fists. Cupping Matt’s cheeks, you smiled as he eagerly dipped to kiss you. 

“Good?” He asked, the question punctuated by the noise of your lips pulling apart. 

“Fuck, Matty,” You whispered, head still swimming from the influx of oxytocin. “Yes. Yes, it was good. S-so good.” 

Withdrawing his hand from between your legs, Matt cradled you against his chest, brushing a thumb over your nape as your soul re-tethered. Lifting one wobbly leg, you shifted, attempting to throw the leaden weight over him, but Matt gently caught you by the thigh, encouraging you to relax. 

“What about you, love?” You asked, drawing in a harsh breath when Matt’s teeth nipped under your ear, his fingers already spreading your legs again.

“Later.” He huffed, his stiff length falling against your plush hip. “I’m not done with you quite yet.”

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase @msjb2002 @blue-devil-of-the-lord @pigeonmama @daisy-arien0 @yarrystyleeza

[bunmurdock]

bit by bit | matt murdock x reader

summary: you surprise matt with an early morning visit to hell's kitchen, new york. tags: fluff, established relationship, domesticity, soft matt murdock. word count: 1.1k a/n: a little ode to the new city i moved to this summer <3

you and matt are stretched out on the bed, skin-to-skin, making out hot and heavy when he pulls away with a soft laugh.

“hmm,” he hums playfully, nosing at your fevered cheeks. “…hot.” your heart pounds against your ribs. “getting nervous on me, sweetie?”

when you struggle to respond at first, he presses his body against yours, causing you to gasp.

“it’s just,” your breath hitches. “...you're so close.”

matt’s chuckle vibrates against your ear, and when a wave of desire washes over you, you can't help but cling tighter to him as your lips chase the faint hint of mint on his breath.

“and i can get—mmph—” he continues, obliging your kiss. “—even closer.”

your breath catches again, as you trace the subtle flecks of gray in his stubble before leaning in to kiss the soft, slightly rough skin. the intimacy makes your stomach flutter and you watch as his adam’s apple bobs, skin rippling under light stubble, a clear sign that he’s feeling the same.

“matt… murdock,” you giggle, earning a low huff from him. 

“mm?" he hums, his voice a gentle rumble against your ear. he lifts his head, playful. 

“matthew michael murdock,” you continue, with no further explanation, enjoying the way it rolls off your tongue. and his lips curl into a smirk against your cheek.

“full names, huh? must be in trouble.” 

his playful expression shifts to something more tender. his thumb brushes over your lower lip, making your heart skip a beat. “when’d you get in, sweetheart?” he murmurs, voice low.

you smile. “morning, first flight in.”

he groans softly, his nose nuzzling into your hair, inhaling deeply. “came all the way here to see me. smell so good. soft too, jesus—” he groans, sending a shiver down your spine. his hands slide down your sides, settling on your hips as he pulls you closer, if that’s even possible. “you’re killing me, ms. l/n.”

“stop!” you protest, failing to mask your delight.

“or maybe…” he pauses, a playful glint in his eye. “you sure you didn’t come all this way just to distract me from work?”

“depends,” you counter. “are you still showing up late to court?”

“definitely trouble,” he says, shaking his head, his hands trailing up your back. “big trouble.”

you giggle. “you love trouble.”

he raises his eyebrows and gives a small, conceding nod, smile playing at his lips. “guess i can’t resist my frustratingly clever girl.” his fingers tangle in your hair as he leans in again. 

the kiss is slow, unhurried, and filled with so much affection it makes your chest ache. his lips move against yours with a tenderness that has your heart swelling with love. when he finally pulls back, you’re both breathless, foreheads resting together.

“i love you,” you whisper, unable to hide the feeling that bubbles up from the very depths of your being.

“love you too,” he replies, his voice just as soft. he shifts, rolling onto his back and pulling you on top of him with a soft grunt.

“now, tell me all about your day. what'd my sweet girl get up to?”

you smile, settling comfortably against his chest, your fingers drawing lazy patterns over his scar. “well, first, i had to fight through the crowded subway, then…” you recount the mundane moments of your day, the ones that seemed unimportant until you had the chance to share them with matt. his hands continue their soothing caresses, trailing patterns that make your skin tingle. his chuckles and murmurs of encouragement are a steady background to your words, making you feel truly heard. 

"...and then," you continue, excitement bubbling up in your voice, "i found this quirky little bookstore. it’s called the drama book shop."

matt raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his tone. “the one on 39th?”

“i think so? it’s amazing. i got lost in there for hours. they had this whole section of old play scripts and—oh!” you suddenly remember. “i got this really old one. it’s a collection of shakespearean monologues. i thought it might be fun to read some together.”

“sounds like a plan,” he says, smiling as he listens. “you know, foggy and i once spent an entire afternoon there back in college, just browsing. he was looking for a script for an obscure play. never found it, but we did find a signed copy of a famous playwright's work. he still jokes that it’s the only reason he appreciates theater now.”

you laugh, imagining the scene. “i can totally see that. the place is a maze. i almost tripped over a stack of books at one point. i was so focused on this one title, i didn’t see the pile next to me.”

matt winces. “oof. my girl, always so enthusiastic. did you end up buying the book?”

“no..” you admit sheepishly. “i got distracted by a cat that wandered in. it had these big green eyes and kept rubbing against my leg. i ended up following it around the store for a while.”

“of course you did,” he teases, his fingers gently running through your hair.

“i just can’t help it,” you say, blushing slightly. “everything is so fascinating here. like, did you know there’s a tiny garden on the rooftop of a building nearby? it’s so hidden, i almost missed it. but when i looked up, there it was. all these little plants and flowers.”

“a rooftop garden?” matt’s curiosity is piqued. “that’s something only you would notice, sweetheart. most people don’t look up.”

“it was like a little oasis in the middle of the city,” you reply, feeling proud of your discovery. “i even saw a couple of bees buzzing around!”

matt smiles, his expression softening. “you see the beauty in everything, pup. hearing you talk about it, getting to see the world through your eyes, it’s… new.”

“really?” you ask, feeling a warm blush spread across your cheeks.

“really,” he confirms, pulling you closer. “one of the things i love most about you.”

he pauses, thinking. “there’s this other spot you might like. small diner called clinton street baking company. best pancakes in the city. it’s a bit out of the way, but worth it.”

“really?” you exclaim, imagining a lazy morning spent indulging in sweet treats with matt. “oh my god matt, i want fluffy ones!”

he hums in affirmation. “i’ll take you there. it’s one of those places only the locals really know about.”

you close your eyes, contentment washing over you. “i like finding new spots with you, matt. makes me feel more like a part of your world.”

“you are my world,” he whispers, caressing your cheek—then, nuzzling into it with his face.

“and i love that you’re making it your own, bit by bit.”

[saberlight1]

pretty boy — matt murdock

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader.

warnings: language, fluff, established relationship, standard daredevil warnings.

authors note: hiii! since rewatching daredevil, my matt and frank obsession has been back up n running (not that i’m complaining). and this is based on this request, thank you anon <3. i love this little fluffy fic, i hope you enjoy this!

masterlist

You watched the snowflakes fall with a calm smile on your face. You had always adored this time of year, especially when it snowed. It was just something about how the never ending buzzing of Hell’s Kitchen would just stop for a moment— just peace and quiet. It never failed to calm your nerves, whatever worries that were on your mind washing away with the snow hitting the ground.

You were sat on your boyfriend’s couch wrapped up in a blanket with a book in your hand, soaking in the tranquility that this type of weather brought you. Matt’s apartment was always one of your favorite places— it was always so quiet and the big, open windows granted you a sight to Hell’s Kitchen. Even with the bright build-board right outside, you still loved it. Most of all, you loved it because it was his. Everything in the apartment reminded you of Matt, thats why you spent as much time as possible here.

“Sweetheart?” Matt’s call broke you from your thoughts, and your heart swelled at his voice. You stood up immediately, walking over to where he was kicking off his shoes and jacket by the door.

“Hi, baby,” You smiled, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders as his hands wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer.

“Hi,” He whispered as you took off his sunglasses. The second the lenses were off his eyes, the man brought his lips to yours.

Your smile only grew against his lips as you dug one of your hands into his hair— the man before you only growing more greedy against your lips.

You pulled back for air, a teasing look on your features. Matt may not have sight, but he could always tell when that look crossed your face. “Someone missed me, huh?” You cheekily teased.

His cold hands dove under the material of your— his shirt, causing a yelp to leave your lips as you attempted to get away from him.

He smiled brightly at you. “Of course I missed you,” His cold hands only traveled further up your back, and you knew the sneaky fucker could probably hear the goosebumps rising on your skin.

“Stop!” You giggled, trying to fight your way out of his arms, but you knew it was fruitless.

“Okay, okay,” He chuckled, relenting his cold hands from your warm skin. “‘m sorry, you’re just warm and it was fuckin’ freezing out there.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, your hands grabbing his own from your hips and wrapping them within your own in an attempt to warm them up. “I told you that this morning. Just because you’re the big, bad Daredevil doesn’t mean you don’t get cold, my love.” You joked, interlacing your fingers and leading him to your shared room.

He rolled his own eyes with a smile at your remark, you never failed to tease him for his vigilante ways— even when he came to you half dead and you had to patch him up, you still found a way to crack a joke to see his smile.

“Here,” You turned to him with a hoodie and sweatpants in your hands. “Get out of that suit so we can cuddle on the couch.” You left a kiss on his lips before turning on your heel and walking towards the kitchen.

Matt shook his head with a laugh, but did as he was told regardless. Once he was settled, he made his way towards where you were in the kitchen. You smiled softly when you felt his chest against your back and his arms slither around your waist. You leaned your head back onto his shoulder as he left small kisses along your neck.

“Hot chocolate, huh?” He murmured against your neck.

You rolled your eyes playfully at his use of his senses. “Yep, might help you warm up, Frozone.” You joked.

“I know you did not just compare me to that dude from Incredibles.” He scoffed, feigning offensiveness.

You giggled. “How do you even know that?”

“Honey, my ears still work.” He pinched your hip lightly. “When that movie came out all the kids at the orphanage loved it. Had to hear it at least three times a day,”

You grimaced at the thought. “That must’ve been torture, havin’ to constantly hear the plot of that movie.”

“It was.” He agreed.

“Don’t tell me you hate that movie, though.” You looked at him from over your shoulder, holding up a finger. “‘Cause that was my favorite Disney movie for a while..”

He started tickling you immediately, a loud squeal leaving your lips. “Oh, my girl has a basic taste in Disney movies?” He teased with a smile, talking slightly loud over your laughter. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Matthew!” You wheezed out, thrashing in his grip. He finally relented as you laid against him while you attempted to catch your breath. “Didn’t know you were so passionate about my taste..”

“Well, I gotta let you know if it’s a basic one.” He shrugged, a smirk on his lips.

“If it’s so basic, then how’d I pick you?” You bit back with raised brows.

A breathy chuckle escaped him, before he paused to lick his lips. “Fair play, honey.”

You only smiled in return, turning back to pour the pair of you a mug of hot chocolate. Matt let his eyes flutter shut behind you, resting his head in the crook of your neck as he relaxed to the sounds of just simply: you.

You smiled when you noticed what he was doing, one of your hands coming up to scratch his scalp. “It’s ready,” You softly said.

He pulled away from you to grab his mug. “Thank you, baby.” He left a kiss to the side of your head before wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you to the couch.

He placed both of your cups on the coffee table before lying down and dragging you into his chest, yet another yelp leaving your lips.

Your chin rested on his chest as you looked at him with questioning eyes.

“What?” He laughed. “I told you I missed you,”

You only smiled, leaning up slightly to bring your lips together. His hand immediately shot up to cup your jaw, the man also leaning up to deepen it. You’d never get tired of the way his lips chased yours, and how passionately he kissed you every time.

You pulled back for air, but not before leaving a couple small pecks to his lips.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you, Matt.” You whispered back, leaving one last kiss to his lips before digging your head into the crook of his neck— the hot chocolate being long forgotten.

But in all honesty, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were perfectly fine just as you were, wrapped up in your lover’s arms during a snowstorm.

[babygirlmurdock]

Confessions

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Foggy drops a very drunk Matt on your doorstep one night, which leads to confessions.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Consumption

a/n: Got this idea from the writing prompt: “You're drunk." "Yes. And hopelessly in love with you." - from @creativepromptsforwriting and I love a little “i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this” (iykyk). Also I was listening to You Are In Love by Taylor Swift writing this, although it doesn’t have direct correlation, I just love that song LOL. Please enjoy<3

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*: ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔

You were sound asleep until you heard a loud ringtone erupt from your bedside table. There’s only one person whose calls surpass your do not disturb.

Matt.

You saw his contact photo and answered groggily, “hello?”

“Hey,” this was not Matt’s voice. “Matt’s, uh, really drunk right now. Someone had the great idea to do shots tonight…” Foggy was trying his best to sound normal over the phone, but he was clearly not sober.

You sat up, scrubbed your hand over your face and glanced over to your clock. 2:17 am. “Foggy, it’s 2 in the morning, I have work tomorrow, you can’t get Matt back to his apartment?” You complained to him. Matt was your closest friend. Grew up going to the same church in Hell’s Kitchen. He was kind of the loner kid, so one day you befriended him and you’ve been close ever since.

“He keeps saying he wants to see you! He kept babbling your name, so we’re about a block away from your apartment now. See you in a few!” Foggy cheerfully said not really giving you a choice.

“Foggy wai—aaand he hung up. Great,” you said to yourself before putting your phone back on your bedside table. You put on the closest sweatpants you found on your floor and one of your sweatshirts. After you found your slippers, you putzed downstairs to retrieve your inebriated friend. When you got outside, you heard the boys laughing from half way down the block. You sat on your stairs leading to your apartment while you waited for your two bumbling idiots.

Matt slurred your name as he approached and almost ate shit half jogging to you. “Jesus christ, Matt be careful it’s dark out here,” you scolded him.

“It’s all dark to me,” Matt laughed at you.

“Alright I walked into that, dick. Hey, thanks for bringing him at least… here. I’ll hydrate him and make sure he’s okay for work tomorrow,” you gave a ‘you owe me’ look over to Foggy as he said goodbye to you. You and Matt made your way up to your apartment.

You closed the door behind you after Matt stumbled in, took his glasses off and put them in his jacket pocket then put his cane on the wall. “Thank you for taking me in tonight, you’re a really good person,” Matt said, pulling you in for a hug.

“God, Murdock, you wreak of tequila,” you pulled away from his strong hug. “I’m gonna bitch Foggy out tomorrow for getting you this drunk on a work night. Why don’t you try to take a shower, I still have an old boyfriend’s sweats in my drawer. They should fit you,” you heard Matt huff as you went to your bedroom to grab the sweats and one of his shirts you stole from him and never gave back.

You knocked on the bathroom door and shouted that you left the shirt and sweats outside the door when he’s done. You went to the kitchen to grab aspirin and make him a Liquid IV mocktail. You really didn’t care if he was going hate the taste of it, it’s nearly 2:30 AM and you want him to go to sleep on your couch quickly. You heard the shower shut off and the door open and close again assuming Matt grabbed the clothing you provided him.

“Your body wash smells girly,” Matt commented as he made his way over to the couch to sit next to you.

“It’s almost like I am a girl… here drink this, take these. You know how I get with people puking and I don’t need any of that tomorrow morning and I know how pissy you get when you have a headache,” you handed Matt the glass and put the pills in his hand.

Matt put the pills in his mouth and swallowed them with the electrolyte mixture you gave him only to have him twist his face in disgust. “What is this? This isn’t water!” Matt protested holding the glass out to you signaling he didn’t want anymore.

“It’s liquid IV, it’s electrolytes. Supposed to hydrate you faster, a coworker suggested them for me when I had the stomach bug. Drink it,” You sternly said. You swore taking care of drunk Matt was like taking care of a stubborn toddler that didn’t want to eat their vegetables. He rolled his eyes and took another gulp out of the glass.

“You know, you should come out with the firm. Instead of being a stick in the mud,” Matt suggested, leaning into you. You huffed out in annoyance.

“Sorry I like my 8 hours of sleep and I’m not my own boss, sue me!” You threw your hands up in protest, “which my sleep is being rudely interrupted by the way.”

Matt leaned in a little closer to you, “your voice goes higher when you get mad at me.” You felt his body get close to you in a way that didn’t feel platonic. “And you breathe faster.”

“Most people breathe faster when they’re inconvenienced, Matt,” you tried to steady your breathing, trying not to sound flustered.

You and Matt knew each other on such a deep level that no one else got you like him and vise versa. Matt trusted you with his secrets and you trust him with yours. You were his first friend in the church. Learning about his dad’s death, being the first one to know he got into his top law school and staying up with him to help him study for the Bar Exam. You’ve been through everything together.

You’d be moronic to think that Matt wasn’t attractive. This man pulls any woman that he wants and you have to be the one to hear about the women he brings home. Whether that be positive or negative. You never thought about your friendship with him other than strictly platonic. Other than that one time you were dared to kiss him when you were 9 on the playground but you both always said that never counted as a real kiss because it was just a peck anyway. But to you, it was your first kiss. You loved telling the other girls at school that you kissed sweet Matt Murdock under the slide at recess.

Seeing Matt date these other girls but never give you the chance seemed like you two were just platonic. Nothing more. Plus you’re not his type, you’ve seen the women he has dated. Supermodel type. Not you. So you buried that feeling deep, deep down and hoped one day it would never be dug up again.

“You know I can hear your heart,” Matt said your name in a husky tone. “And it’s beating awfully loud…” Matt’s face was dangerously close to yours. Mere inches away from one another.

“You know— you know I don’t like when you listen to my heartbeat without my consent, Matthew.”

“And I like it when you call me Matthew. I like the sound of your voice. Have I ever told you that?” Matt’s eyebrows rose up as he drunkingly smirked at you.

“Matt, you’re drunk. I’m going to bed,” you stood up from the couch to make your way to your room.

“I’m in love with you.”

Those words made you stop dead in your tracks. “You—huh?” You whipped around looking at him in disbelief.

“I am. In love with you,” Matt looked up upon you. “Have been for the past few years now. I just never knew how to tell you. And—and I went out with Foggy tonight and ended up drinking way more than I remember. He was the first one to know. He finally pushed me tonight to say something to you. That’s why I’m here. I didn’t want to tell you. I never wanted to ruin our friendship. You’re so special to me, I—I didn’t want to fuck this up.” Matt’s voice slowly started to gain sobriety the more he spoke.

“Matty– I…” you trailed off. Matt Murdock is in love with you. You never thought you’d hear the words you buried come from his mouth.

Before you could finish, Matt cut you off, “I understand if you don’t feel the same. But you have to tell me now so I can get over it. Get over you.”

“No I.. I just—I need to process this information. When did you start feeling this way?” You sat down in the arm chair across from your couch.

“Maybe a few years ago. I always thought you were one of the best people I know. But those platonic thoughts… eventually turned… romantic. Specifically when you came to me with nowhere to go when your ex boyfriend kicked you out after he found out that you were still friends with me and Foggy. God, I hated hearing about him. You deserved better. I learned that night, holding you, while you cried, that I loved you more than a friend. But then came more flings, then I realized you probably didn’t feel the same way. So those feelings were shoved down. Until now,” Matt’s head hung low, looking like he regretted everything that was spewed out of his mouth. Word vomit is better than actual vomit. Although, you felt like you were actually going to vomit.

You stared at him, your heart felt like it was going to come up out of your throat. You knew you felt the same way. But god forbid you dated, and broke up, you didn’t want to lose him. You cherished him so much. The dead air hung there waiting to be brought back to life.

“Please say something,” Matt begged you.

“Matt, I’ve felt this way about you for years. But being me, I never wanted to say anything because I feared losing you,” your voice cracked as your continued, “I feared dating you and potentially breaking up and never having you in my life again.”

You knew Matt could hear your heartbeat out your chest. Your mind was going a million miles a minute processing this. The wave of relief hit Matt like a tsunami. He looked up with his eyes glossy with tears. You got up, made your way to the couch and sat down next to him.

“I don’t want to jump into a relationship with you right away though. I want to be really cautious. I want to kiss you in the worst way but—“

“So do it,” Matt interrupted you.

“If you’d let me finish—“

“I will be doing plenty of that,” Matt smirked at you.

“Shut up and listen to me! I want to kiss you, but I want to take this really slow, Matty. My last long term relationship, as you know, tore me apart. And I’m still healing from that. Doesn’t mean I’m not over him, because I am. But I’m so scared of being kicked out of the blue,” you said looking into his eyes. Your heart was steady and loud. Which meant you were being really serious. You didn’t want to dive in head first and say to the world you were boyfriend & girlfriend.

“Okay. We can do that. Whatever it takes to do this right, sweetie. That being said, can I take you on a date? There’s a wine bar that just opened we can go to. I know how much you love your wine,” Matt teased you about your love for wine.

“Yes you can take me on a date, Matty. I’d love to. Saturday?” You smiled at him. Your first date with Matt Murdock. You’ve only dreamed about him taking you out on a date. “I feel like a teenager right now. My first date with you!” You said all giddy.

Matt laughed at you, “Saturday. It’s a date. it’s cute when you get all flustered. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that over the last few years.”

“What the fuck? I thought I was hiding that so well!” You exclaimed.

“You have to remember,” Matt leaned, inches away from your face, “I can hear everything.”

“Fuck, you’re making it so hard not to kiss you. Not until after the first date though,” you tapped his nose with your finger teasingly.

“Already breaking my heart,” Matt pouted and put his hand over his heart dramatically. You laughed at him. Everything started to look like it was in technicolor. It started making sense. All those years ago, Matt touching your arm lingering his fingers. Him always complimenting you in such poetic ways. None of it was accidental. He wanted you in the same ways all along. You were too oblivious to notice his actions. You couldn’t wait until Saturday to have your first date with Matthew Murdock.

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tags: @yarrystyleeza

I feel like this fic can potentially have a set up for a part to for our reader and Matt on their first date? 👀

All credit to the original gif owner!

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hello!

If possible could you write a fic with reader and matt in an established relationship and he hears something when he's around them and it starts driving him nuts and then he finally realizes is a tiny heartbeat bc reader is pregnant but doesn't realize it, and he's like overjoyed?

sorry this is my first time requesting lmao

hii!! this is very cute :( very happy to be first to write one of your requests☺️ thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

HEARTBEATS.

matt murdock x fem!reader

word count. 481

Recently, whenever Matt was near, he wore an expression you couldn't quite place, looking as though he was concentrating - like his brain was preoccupied. You knew he often had a lot on his mind, so you waited the questioning - wanting him to come to you when he was ready, though he never did. 

Another week had passed, and he continued to model that same sceptical face around you, still no closer to the route of his confusion.

-

You're lying on the sofa, basking in the early evening sunset, nursing your nausea and awaiting Matt to return home from the store. He told you he'd briefly pop out to pick up some things for dinner - that he'd get something to help with your sickness bug, something to ease the upset in your aching body.

You hear the keys jingle in the door, indicating Matt's return home.

"Hey, sweetheart," he calls out, closing the door behind himself. "Sorry about the wait. Was so busy out there," he continues, placing the bags on the counter. He makes his way to you on the couch and takes a seat on his knees in front of you. "How you feeling?" he asks, slipping his hand into yours.

"Gross," you simply reply between a soft breath, closing your eyes. You were starting to feel it again - like the room was spinning. 

His thumb circles over your skin, attempting to ease you. "I'm sorry, angel," he coos, speaking gently. 

Matt props himself higher on his knees, extending to reach himself over your middle. He places a light kiss to your stomach over the fabric of your top and then carefully rests the side of his head in that spot - trying to comfort you. He keeps hold of your hand and laces his fingers between yours, playing with your hand as if to distract you. 

You peek down at Matt on your stomach, watching his brows furrow, seeming like he was focusing - that same darned face again. You extend your spare hand towards his head and nestle your fingers in his hair, soothingly stroking over his scalp. "What is it?" you ask, your confusion mirroring his.

He faintly shakes his head and shushes you softly, a smile growing. 

"Matt?" 

"It's not the flu, honey," he beams at you, lifting his head from your stomach abruptly. "It's not the flu," he repeats, the words almost catching in his throat.

"What do you mean?" you question, following his movements.

"Sweetheart," he coos, drawing out the petname with a gentle nod - like he was trying to prompt you.

"No?" you whisper, speaking in disbelief.

He nods once more, his features softening and melting upon hearing the news. His grip tightens in your hand, and he brings it to his lips, placing another kiss where the last one dried. 

"We're going to have a baby?"

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

some reason when I was writing this it reminded me of when vision said “yes, my love,” to wanda when she got her baby bump🥲 now im sad

[ellephlox]

Head Over Heels

Summary: It's technically not your fault that you sprained your ankle, but Matt's annoyed with you anyway (at least, he pretends to be annoyed with you — but you know better).

Pairing: Matt x Fem!Reader

Warnings: A few swears, but otherwise just a whole lot of whumptober fluff!

"You're going to hurt yourself."

"I am not."

"I just heard you nearly fall over in the bathroom—"

"Because I'm rushing, Matt, that's what happens when your partner holds you captive for too long in bed and makes you late for work!"

Matt was in the process of buttoning his work shirt, a task that you noticed was taking him nearly triple the time it usually took, because his attention was entirely on you. "No one at the presentation will care if you're not wearing heels, sweetheart."

"I care!" You jangled your keys, checked your pockets again for your wallet, and slipped on a jacket. "It's a fashion thing. High heels equal professionalism."

"I like to think that I'm a professional lawyer, and not once in my life have I ever had to wear high heels to court."

"You're overreacting. I'm like a gymnast in heels. Ready? Watch this."

Your stilettos clacking against the floor, you performed several twirls, rotating as though you were a ballerina. For the first few, Matt said nothing, but then he reached out and stopped you with a firm hand on your shoulder.

"The heels sound like precarious twigs," he said.

"They're not precarious and they're not twigs. They're pretty." For added effect you started to skip by him towards your purse.

"Just — please stop," Matt said, finishing with his last button and gesturing downward. "Walk like a normal person, at least?"

"Don't worry. I wasn't planning on skipping into the office," you assured him. "Look, I'll see you for lunch, okay? I've got to split."

"Twelve o'clock. And also promise me you won't twirl like that during your presentation," he said, and leaned in to kiss you before you left.

It was another of those impossibly busy days when you and Matt wouldn't be able to spend much time together. He was going to be in court the entire afternoon, and you had a major annual presentation for work, meaning that you'd both be out overtime and wouldn't get home until late. The bright side was that you both had an opening at noon to meet at a small diner in Hell's Kitchen and catch up over lunch.

You cursed your high heels as you tried to speed down the stairs of Matt's apartment. They really weren't conducive for someone who was running late. Halfway down, you lost your footing; the stem of the heel missed the edge of the step and you jolted downward.

And, mercifully, caught yourself on the railing.

Knowing for certain that Matt was listening to you and likely heard your misstep — as well as the way your heart was hammering from the adrenaline of nearly falling down a flight of stairs — you muttered aloud, "See? Everything's fine," and continued on your way. Shortly after, your phone vibrated with a text from Matt:

Are you trying to give me a heart attack?

Laughing to yourself, you stowed your phone back in your purse.

And the high heels did work out, for most of the morning. You gave your presentation and then buried yourself at your desk in paperwork, confined to work for the rest of the day on everything you'd fallen behind in while prepping for the presentation. You couldn't help but glance at the clock every ten minutes; noon was going to be the breath of fresh air in an otherwise stressful day.

Fifteen minutes to noon you got up from your desk and made your way out onto the street. The sun was shining, a soft balmy breeze carried the fragrance of blooming lilacs as you passed a small garden, and plush clouds drifted overhead idly.

And then, just as you were hurrying to crossing the street — technically the pedestrian light was red, but you had a solid seven seconds before the approaching car would actually reach you — there was an ominous snap, and you found yourself falling onto the pavement, your ankle rolling in the process.

Well, not just rolling. It felt more like your ankle was jerked down into a direction it definitely shouldn't have been in, accompanied by a soft pop and a flaring of sharp, throbbing pain.

The car that you would have easily made it past had to brake, honking angrily at you, and you waved vehemently in apology as you struggled to your feet — shit shit shit that hurts — and hobbled out of the street.

"Bitch!" the man shouted from his window as he accelerated by you, tossing a middle finger at you.

Usually that would probably be enough to ruin your day, being yelled at by a stranger, but you were much more preoccupied with the stabbing pain in your ankle. Did I break it? Should sprains hurt this much? You stared, stunned, at the broken stiletto that was half-dangling from your shoe. It had simply snapped in half, for no reason at all.

"Traitor," you muttered to it, taking shelter in the shade of a building to assess your ankle. Gingerly you tried touching it, but it flashed with pain as you pressed on it. Inhaling deeply and tilting your head backwards — do NOT cry don't cry don't cry don't cry— you began to continue your way to the diner.

Matt wasn't going to be happy about this. And you already knew there was no way you could hide it from him. You were limping so badly that it was difficult to walk; each movement felt as though you were tearing your ankle again. If you could arrive at the diner first and get yourself seated, then maybe you had a small chance of the injury going unnoticed, but your limping must have delayed you just enough, because you could see Matt through the window of the restaurant — he'd already arrived.

And his head was already tilted in a way that meant, yep, he's definitely onto me, he can already hear me.

"Hi," you greeted him weakly as you walked in, ignoring the fact that tears were spiking in your eyes. Matt was already on his feet, grabbing his cane almost as an afterthought and approaching you quickly.

"I didn't think it was you at first," he said, quietly so that other patrons in the diner wouldn't hear. "Your gait was so different. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's not so bad," you said, knowing he'd hear right through the lie, but not caring much in the moment.

"Let me feel it."

There was no sense in objecting; Matt, you knew, wouldn't be satisfied until he'd done his radar scanning of it so that he could know precisely what was going on in your ankle. "Okay," you agreed. "But let's use the bathroom. These people trying to enjoy their meals don't need to see you feeling up my ankle."

It was a single-user bathroom, fortunately. Matt entered first and held the door open for you, and only once it was shut and locked did he abandon his cane and stoop by your feet. You leaned against the sink as his fingers grazed your ankle.

"What's my diagnosis, Mr. X-Ray?" you asked, trying to come off as playful, but it was hard hiding the pain in your voice. It didn't help that Matt wasn't having it. He stood up, hands on his hips, jaw twitching.

"You fully tore the ligament," he said. "I told you that those heels would get you hurt."

"Whoa, excuse me. This was not my fault. I didn't trip. The heel just happened to snap on me, so it is one hundred percent, completely, utterly, not my fault."

"You knowingly wore dangerous shoes," Matt insisted.

"Stilettos aren't inherently dangerous, Matt! They're shoes! I just got a bit unlucky—"

"Unlucky? You can hardly walk."

"I'm fine," you said, a bit more firmly, and tried, recklessly, to do the twirl you had done that morning to prove it, but had to stop immediately because it sent a rocketing flare of pain through your leg. "Ow. Shit."

Matt steadied you instinctively. "You should take the rest of the day off and go to the doctor."

"No way. I'm so far behind in work. Besides, I'm good once I'm sitting, it's just walking that's hard."

Matt said nothing at first, but helped you get from the bathroom to the booth, one hand loosely holding his cane and the other supporting you as you leaned on him. You were grateful for his strength practically holding you up; already your ankle was swelling and walking alone would have made a scene. Still, it earned a few stares from several of the other people eating in the diner, but you ignored them.

"I guess I should clarify," Matt said, only once you were seated. "You are taking the rest of the day off."

You furrowed your brow, outraged. "You can't tell me what to do."

"And I'd really recommend seeing a doctor," he continued, "because—"

"Last week you—" You realized your voice was loud and lowered it to a whisper. "Last month you came flopping onto the bed at three in the morning, gasping for breath because you fractured a rib, and when I begged you to see a doctor, you said, 'I'm fine. Don't worry about me so much.' Don't you see how much of a hypocrite you are?"

"I don't care whether or not I'm a hypocrite, I care that you go to the doctor," he said, then added, "But if you don't, you're at least not going back to work. You need to rest, elevate the ankle, and ice it."

You bit your lip. "What if I simply refuse?"

"Then I'll call Claire and make her come pay us a visit tonight to check on you."

The thought of burdening Claire with having to make a trip out to Matt's apartment just for your sake was enough to make your cheeks burn. "You wouldn't."

"I would," he said. "Unless you at the very least stay home the rest of the day and ice your ankle."

"I can't believe you." You fell into silence, punctuated only by the waitress coming to take your beverage orders. Once she left, you tried to brighten things a bit, because Matt's mouth was curved in such an unhappy frown that it was beginning to stress you out. "At least it wasn't my favorite pair of stilettos. If it had been, I might be tempted to try super-gluing the heel back on."

It didn't seem to improve his mood, because Matt didn't smile. "I'd prefer if you just stuck to flats from now on."

"That's a lie. I know you love my heels," you said, impetuously leaning across the table to grab his hands. "You may not be able to see my legs, but I know you can sense them, and I know that stilettos make them, like, ten times sexier."

"You know what's not sexy? A sprained ankle."

"Wow. Thanks for really bulldozing my self-esteem." You paused. "If my ankle makes me so un-sexy, then maybe I'll just... sleep on the couch tonight instead. Wouldn't want you to be near me if I'm all sprained-ankle-ish."

"You're impossible."

"I have a better idea. I can be bait," you said, watching Matt's expression carefully. "I'll stumble out onto the streets tonight — you know, all 'Woe is me, I've got a sprained ankle' — and that'll attract every mugger in the vicinity, seeing a vulnerable girl alone. They won't be able to help themselves, they'll just be dying to come over and rob me. And then, lo and behold! Daredevil dives in and catches all of Hell's Kitchen's criminals in one fell swoop."

Sure enough, you could see an irritated amusement in Matt's mouth, the type that meant he was torn between smiling and getting annoyed. "I'll agree to that plan when Foggy learns how to meditate for more than five minutes at a time."

The waitress arrived and took your orders. You sipped on the water she had delivered, your eyes not leaving Matt's face.

"What is it?" he said, finally. "You're dying to say something."

"Yeah. I want you to admit that it's not my poor high heels you're angry with. You're just worried about me."

"Can't it be both?"

"Leave my high heels out of this and admit it, Matt."

"Fine. I'm worried about you. Does that make you happy?"

"Sure does," you said, squeezing his hands and smiling. "By the way... did I ever mention that I'm head over heels in love with you?"

"Oh, my God."

A/N: This was just a short piece inspired by two separate asks I received that fit together quite well:

Prompt 1: hi!!! could you do a hurt/comfort where reader breaks her heel and sprains her ankle while walking home and matt finds her??

Prompt 2: May I request a Matt fic? I've been seeing girls on YouTube that test their heels out by running around in front of their s/o, and I thought it would be really funny with a clumsy reader and Matt having an absolute heart attack. Thanks!

Just realized that I completely altered the first prompt by having them meet at a diner rather than Matt finding her, so I apologize! I hope it was still alright to read :) happy whumptober, everyone!

[devils-dares]

Steal My Warmth

summary: matt lets you use him as a pillow.

pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader

warnings: none! fluffy fluff here

wordcount: 379

-----

The way Matt loved you was devastating. He ached when you weren’t near, and when you were he found his fingers were always reaching for you to come a little closer. His hands always found themselves wrapped around your midsection, the extra skin letting him steal an abundance of warmth and softness from you.

When you’d asked him if you could slip under the blanket with him on the couch, he told you you didn’t have to ask as he peeled away the thick fluffy cover.

“C’mere.” You try to slot yourself between him and the couch but he pulls you to lay on him directly, your head sinking into his chest as he tucks you in.

“Cozy?” You nodded, feeling his fingers caress your skin, his touch sliding lower and lower after starting at your waist.

“Watch the hands.” He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He clicks resume on his podcast as you get comfy on his chest and scroll through your phone. Quiet domesticity takes over the apartment, your even breath mirrors his as the two of you soak in each other's presence.

“It should be a crime to be this soft and warm with that much muscle.” You say, poking his abs. He chuckles, pulling your body closer to his.

“Feel free to come steal some warmth more often.” You nuzzle further and he gasps at the feeling of your cold nose pressing against his bare chest. Your eyelids grow heavy and you glance up to Matt, who was listening to his podcast. He looked at peace, his fingers still moving, albeit slowly, across your skin while your head moved up and down gently from his breaths. You smile, your eyes shutting more and more as you finally succumb to sleep with comfort personified who is Matt Murdock.

His attention is drawn to you only when your phone lands face down on his skin, the glass screen chilling his body. He brings his hand up to thread through your hair, dull nails gently scratching at your scalp. With his other hand he pauses his podcast and drops his headphones to the ground quietly. He moves your phone away and pulls the blanket up a bit higher to cover your body.

“Sweet dreams, my love.”

[peterman-spideyparker]

Handful (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! I’ve been editing WIPs all day, and this one was quick and cute that I just couldn’t not share first (especially since I’ve found a strange amount of angsty WIPs for me). I hope you enjoy! :)

Summary: You love Matt Murdock. You’ve fallen into an easy pattern with him, and it’s comforting—it feels like home. You love waking up in his arms, your easy mornings. That doesn’t mean that these sweet moments are immune to his special breed of Murdock charm.

Warnings: Kissing and being cute idiots in love, flirting, pet names foreplay, smut (oral - f!receiving, praise kink (Matt’s breaking out “good girl” again) p in v sex, unprotected sex—wrap it up, folks!, creampie) Matt is a sexy and smartass menace)

Other Characters: None

Word Count: IDK, this is a straight copy and paste from my notes app and is kind partially proof read😂

You roll over in bed and hum happily as your arm drapes over Matt’s middle and you snuggle him closer. You feel Matt adjust and wrap his arm around you, his fingers gently brushing against your arm.

“Did I wake you?” he whispers softly.

“No,” you yawn softly. “Nice that you’re still here in bed, though.”

A gentle chuckle rolls through him, careful to not break the peace of the morning. “You’re just up earlier than usual, sweetheart.”

You blink in the early morning light and move your head to look up at him. His hair is fluffy and sticking up at odd angles, his face is still covered in a veil of blissfulness from a good nights sleep, and happiness twinkling in his eyes.

“Good morning, Matty,” you smile.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he smiles back, leaning in for a kiss. It’s chaste and sweet at first, but with each additional seconds our lips are connected, it’s easier to get lost in him. Matt feels it too, softly moaning into your mouth as he rolls over on top of you, one hand sliding to rest on the side of your neck as the other moves to your side. Your hands happily slide around his back, your fingers gently dragging against the line of his back, brushing against a few of his scars. You kiss like this, enjoying the embraces that are growing deeper and deeper before you wiggle your hips on the mattress without much thought, signaling Matt to roll his hips into you. You break the kiss and moan out, Matt’s beautiful pouty lips pulling into a smile as he places slow, wet kisses on your neck.

“That’s music to my ears, angel,” he husks, dragging his kisses across your neck and up the other side. “Makes me think of everything I want to do to you.”

“Ah, Matt,” you moan softly.

“Yes, (Y/N)?”

“You’re a real handful,” you grin with a little chuckle as his lips hone in on your sweet spot.

“I’m a handful?” he echos, his morning stubble scratching against your skin.

“Mm, fuck,” you breathe softly as he sucks on the sweet spot under your jaw, your hands sliding up his back, one moving to the back of his head to tug at his hair. His hands just squeeze your hips before moving down to your legs, spreading them before Matt brings his lips back to yours.

“Matt,” you grin against his lips as he does the same.

“Shh,” Matt hums.

“It tickles!” you start to chuckle softly.

“I think I know where it might tickle more, if you’re up for it.”

“Matt!” you laugh, your hands sliding through his hair as he leans in for another kiss. His hands squeeze you, gently prodding you for a response, and you nod your head as your lips are locked. He kisses down your body, quickly moving to the space between your legs that remained bare after your adventures from the previous night. Matt licks a deliberate line up from your hole to your clit, making you moan out into the bedroom. He happily licks and feasts, enjoying the leftover slick still between your legs before he comes back up and kisses you deeply.

“Can I? Do you want to?” he breathes a gentle hand stroking up and down your arm.

You spread your legs a little more, locking your ankles around his. “I’d like that,” you hum, sliding your hands between your bodies, feeling that he’s already hard—he usually is to some degree in the mornings after you’re intimate. You give him a few more pumps until he’s a little more up, and you guide him in. You both suck in a little breath when his tip hits the very beginning of your entrance and exhale as he slides in deeper and deeper until he can’t go anymore.

“Fuck,” Matt breathes as he stills, leaning down to kiss you long and slow, over and over to shower you in nothing but love. He slowly rolls his hips to see if you’re okay to go and you nod, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him over and over.

Matt’s movements are languid and tender, your fingers lacing together on one hand while your other snakes around to the middle of his back. At the same time, his free hand ghosts over your skin and settles your waist, sending goosebumps out across your body. Your movements mirror one another, complement each other, the true definition of love. Your free hand gives him a squeeze, silently urging him to go faster. He feels so wonderful, and oh, you just want him. You want him so bad.

“Please,” you moan. “Please, Matt, please more.”

“Good girl,” he pants, forehead resting against yours. “My good girl. So good for me, wrapped around me like that. So good taking me like this. So good, angel.”

You run your fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots and slotting your lips against to his, your noses smushing together. His teeth nip at your lower lip as he pulls back slightly before capturing it between both of his. All you can do is pant and hold onto Matt’s back with your legs wrapped around him as he rolls his hips into you over and over, making the bed squeak and rock.

“Matthew,” you whine. “Matty . . . Feel so good.”

“Good girl,” he breathes against your neck, sending goosebumps throughout your body. “So good for me.”

You take in a deep breath and slowly let it out in moans by Matt’s ear. You don’t know if it’s because you’re still a little tired or the way the sheets are bunched slightly under your back, but everything feels so much better.

“So good,” he praises again. “You’re nice and sensitive, hm? My cock feels extra good in your pretty pussy, doesn’t it?”

“So good, Matt,” you whine. “Matt . . .”

“Mmm . . . You’re mine.”

You squeak, your hand squeezing his.

“Yeah?” he hums with one of the most beautiful smiles you’ve ever seen, his eyes sparkling.

“I love you.”

He only glows more. “I love you,” he breathes, leaning in and kissing you again.

The roll of his hips pick up in pace as you feel him hit deeper inside of you, and all you can do is hug Matt’s waist with your knees and keep him close until he cums deep inside of you. Your moans are harmonious, and just as he’s almost done riding out his high does yours crash over you in shattering shockwaves, squeezing you desperately and making his moans jump an octave. He stills and slows, kissing you all over to keep you grounded and center you in his arms.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he gravels in his alluring baritone.

“Good morning, my love,” you murmur, leaning up for one more kiss, long and slow. Your lips part from his and your head happily falls back down on the pillow.

You both groan softly as Matt pulls out. With one more kiss, Matt slides out of bed and puts on his boxers, shuffling out of the bathroom.

“Hey,” you whine, panting, irked your cuddles have been cut short. “Where are you going?”

“Mass,” he says, unphased, twisting to look at you from the doorway of your room. “Gotta freshen up before I leave.”

He gives you a small smile as you stare at him, your mouth hanging slightly while you watch him move out of the room. Yup, he’s a real handful.

———————————

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[beyondspaceandstars]

The Barista

Relationship: Matt Murdock x Reader Warnings: nothing. only fluff Summary: Although the barista at the local coffee shop never seems to be able to get Matt's order right, something keeps bringing him back. A/N: enjoy this quick little fluffy thing I whipped up in the notes app of my phone <3

Masterlist

Matt winced after he took another sip of his coffee. You had added cinnamon to it this time. Cinnamon. He didn’t know how you managed to do that. His coffee was simple and, more importantly, never changed, but you—a barista at the local coffee shop—always somehow managed to get it just a little incorrect.

But, also, Matt wasn’t exactly keen on skipping his weekly coffee trips.

“What did she put in your coffee this time?” Foggy asked after having witnessed the face his friend had made.

Matt sighed. “Cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon?” Foggy laughed. “I don’t understand how that is even possible. Why do you keep going to that place?”

Matt did his best to his shrug casual, undetectable. “No reason. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Foggy gasped. “Oh my gosh.”

“What?”

“There’s a hot barista, isn’t there?”

Matt immediately started spewing out (weak) protests. “What. That’s… I— How would I—,”

But Foggy cut him off. “Don’t give me that again, Matthew. You do know. You can’t stop yourself from going to the coffee shop because you’re trying to get with a hot barista.”

“Okay,” Matt said in defeat, “maybe let’s not call her ‘hot barista.’ She’s just… She’s very kind. She makes silly coffee puns when I order. Sometimes we get to talking and… I don’t know. I like it. I like her, I think.”

“Even though she gets your coffee order wrong every single time?”

Matt blushed. “Well, I think I make her a little nervous. I may or may not have noticed some spikes in her heart rate.”

"Oh, that’s perfect," Foggy said with a laugh. "So, when are you going to ask her out?"

"I— I don’t think I can do that. That would be weird, right? Maybe she’s just being nice to me. I don’t want to be one of those customers."

"But you said her heart skips when you walk in."

"Sure, but maybe she’s just an anxious person—,"

Foggy scoffed. "Since when have you ever had this many reservations about asking someone out?"

"I don’t know," Matt admitted with a sigh. "I don't think she needs to get wrapped up in all my stuff."

"Actually it sounds like she very much wants to get wrapped up with you."

"Foggy…"

"Alright, alright, I’ll stop," he said, raising his arms in surrender. "I’m just saying, it sounds like she might be into you so I would at least think about it."

And so Matt did. He tried not to—he really did—but no matter how much he resisted it, your angelic voice and his best friend’s insisting words kept creeping up in the back of his mind. Even when he was out patrolling his city, the thoughts didn’t leave him.

In fact, it consumed Matt for an entire weekend. And he found himself back at the coffee shop bright and early Monday morning.

As Matt opened the door, he was immediately hit by your soft, sweet voice talking to another customer. You were kind and respectful as you interacted with them but Matt was quick to notice you didn’t share a coffee pun. He didn’t know why that made something in his chest warm.

When he approached the counter, he heard your heart speed up just ever so slightly, as if on perfect cue. Matt enjoyed trying to act clueless sometimes.

"Good—Good morning, Matthew," you said. "It’s good to see you again. I missed you a latte this past weekend."

Matt subtly tightened the grip on his cane. He swore you winced at your words, which he found adorable. "Good morning.” He couldn’t help but smile. "That was a good one.”

You giggled. And it nearly took his breath away.

“Thank you,” you replied. “I have to start looking up new ones. I fear I’m running out.”

Matt shook his head. “We can’t have that, can we?”

You laughed again. You were as giddy as ever around him. Maybe Foggy wasn’t completely bonkers, Matt thought.

"What can I get started for you today, Mister Lawyer?”

"Coffee. Splash of cream," Matt answered.

"Of course, of course," you muttered to yourself before waltzing around behind the counter. The sound of grinding beans and dripping coffee made Matt’s ears perk up.

"Busy day today?" You asked over the noise of the machines.

Matt shook his head. "Paperwork to do, files to review. The usual," he replied but his words felt jilted. Should he ask you? Would that be weird? Would you call the cops or something?

"Well, that’s good to hear! Your day will fly by," you said quite cheerfully. It made Matt feel really good—a particular kind of good that didn’t always come easily for him.

"It’s already off to a great start here," Matt replied, taking a little leap of faith. He swore he heard you gasp. "Um, you know, there is something I wanted to ask you."

You were now pouring coffee into a to-go cup. Matt didn’t think you had messed up anything this time but he couldn’t be sure. He was a little distracted.

"Oh, yeah?" You asked. Your voice was suddenly shaky. Your heart rate shot up. Not just a skip like before. It was pounding.

It could mean anything, really, he told himself.

"Yeah." Matt took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you’d like to grab dinner sometime. With me."

Something heavy hit the counter. "Uh, dinner? Like as a date?"

Matt chuckled. "Yes, exactly like a date."

"I’d love to." You didn’t even hesitate slightly. That made Matt feel really good.

"Great," he replied. He was sure he was keeping his composure from the outside but on the inside? He wanted to let out a sigh of relief.

You two exchanged contact information after Matt’s order was ready. He paid and you both kept it very professional, even when he noticed your hands were pretty much shaking.

The professionalism fell when he was bidding you a goodbye. You stepped around the counter to plant a kiss on his cheek and wish him a good day. It nearly took Matt aback but not in a bad way.

A permanent smile was etched onto his face for the entire morning—even when he went to take a sip of his coffee...

Vanilla. Matt could smell it, he could taste it. You had somehow added a splash of vanilla syrup to his cup of coffee. Matt laughed to himself.

[talesofesther]

heartbeats

Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: Matt could recognize your heartbeat from a mile away. Today, however, you are not alone. There's another heartbeat moving with yours; it's gentle, small, and different, but it's there with you.

A/N: A little cute story that I wrote on a whim. <3

Masterlist

There was a time when Matt didn't think he could find happiness, maybe even considered himself undeserving of it. A time where he saw nothing but loneliness in his future; part of him was okay with it, saying it was safer this way; and the other part felt hollow, empty.

Unknowingly though, you put an end to that time.

You came into his life unexpectedly, unplanned, and quite suddenly. The day had been rainy—sun rising with a slight drizzle and moon appearing in the distance with a downpour—it was dark out when Matt was making his way out of the subway, the sound of heavy rain hitting the pavement overwhelmed his senses; and then, there was a soft tap on his shoulder. Matt had heard your heartbeat before you even touched him, it was steady, strong yet somehow gentle; when you spoke, voice sweet as honey to his ears, Matt figured your heartbeat was the most perfect he'd ever heard. You ended up asking if he wanted you to walk him somewhere, given that you had an umbrella and Matt didn't. He'd call it a bit of a cliche meeting, but maybe cliche was just what Matt needed. A few days later he asked you out for dinner, as thanks for your kindness, of course.

You entered his life suddenly, and then never left again.

And now, as Matt expertly chops vegetables on his counter, he smiles to himself at the memory from nearly a year ago. It's a Friday night and you'll be arriving from work shortly. Matt makes dinner on Fridays, you never ask him to, but he likes to hear the smile on your voice whenever you walk in and smell the fresh food in the air of his apartment.

The door downstairs is opened then, and Matt could recognize your heartbeat from a mile away. This has been your routine for quite some time now, yet every time Matt feels your heart coming closer to his, he feels this shiver running up and down his spine, this soft twisting of his stomach—maybe it's because he loves you.

Today, however, you are not alone. Matt lets go of the knife and vegetables in his hands, cleaning them in a towel before coming to stand in his living room; his brows furrow as he focuses his hearing. There's another heartbeat moving with yours; it's gentle, small, and different, but it's there with you.

Matt holds his breath when he finally hears you opening the door of his apartment, and he's already smiling when he hears you taking off your shoes and letting go of your purse—you feel at home with him, and his heart swells with joy.

"Matty?" You call for him as you round the corner and step into his living room. There's a mix of excitement and apprehension in your voice.

"Sweetheart, hi." His instinct is to immediately take you in his arms and kiss you until he runs short of breath, but he still hears that soft heartbeat accompanying your own, and he feels glued to the floor.

"Is everything okay?" Matt asks, his worry escaping him as he fiddles with the edge of his sleeves.

"Yes," you chuckle, and the sound lights Matt up. "But, as I was walking back home, I came across... something." You explain slowly, taking a tentative step closer to Matt.

Matt feels you taking hold of his hand, his thumb instantly runs over your knuckles to feel just a bit more of your skin. You're holding your breath now, and Matt doesn't know why until... his fingers buried into something soft, nearly velvety; it's fur, he quickly realizes as he moves his hand—carefully, gently—and reaches a pair of pointy ears and thin whiskers.

A cat. You brought home a cat.

"She's a stray," you explain in a near whisper, "she was all alone in the streets, terrified of the heavy traffic. I couldn't leave her there."

He's not sure why, but Matt feels the back of his eyes burning. Maybe it's because you're so purely good that the mere thought of any animal being in distress is enough to trouble you. Maybe it's because you brought this cat to his apartment instead of yours, and it reminds him that you spend nearly all of your time here nowadays. Or maybe it's just because amidst the soft fur, Matt can still feel your own hand holding onto his, and in some way, this feels like a promise; that you love him too, that you want to stay.

"What does she look like?" Matt manages to croak out.

He hears that beautiful smile of yours when you speak; "She has grey fur, with a few white marks around her body, and big yellow eyes. She's also really small."

"Yeah, I can tell," Matt's own smile escapes him again as he runs his hand over the cat, feeling the small frame of her laying on your arms.

You get on your tip toes so you can press a kiss to Matt's lips, his free hand instantly finds the small of your back, holding you to him just a tad longer. "We don't have to keep her, I just wanted to get her safe for the night and then we can take her to a shelter in the morning," you suggest.

Matt pouts, his brows furrowing comically, "but I'm already attached."

You're chuckling again and Matt knows that was the right choice. The cat, however, seems fed up with your excitement, she jumps from your arms and begins to explore every nook and cranny of Matt's apartment.

With your arms now free, you bring them around Matt's neck, placing little pecks along his jaw, "Good, because I kind of am too."

Matt hugs you close, tightly. He can hear the soft pitter-patter of paws roaming around his apartment, along with the steady rhythm of his favorite heartbeat. He thinks he can used to this; to happiness.

"She'll need a name, you know."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Matt’s taglist:@milkiane @v1ci0us

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the unveiling

buttercup, chapter five

a/n: I mean, I just had to make him wear the black suit.... (said in a foreshadowing way)

summary: you only mustered two steps down the stairs before you spotted a surprising, yet familiar masked man sprawled out on the living room floor, unconscious and bleeding.

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, smut, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, the black daredevil suit, injuries, kissing, dirty talk, fingering, protected sex, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms

word count: 3236

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Your eyes fluttered shut a moment as you felt the cool night breeze caress your features. You hadn’t bothered with a coat, so it was simply a woollen blanket you clutched around your pyjamas. 

Jumping slightly, you whirled around as you heard one of the doors up to the rooftop creak open. 

“Oh!” you clutched your chest as you discovered the identity of the intruder, “it’s just you.” 

“Hey,” Matt closed the door that led directly down into his loft. 

“I was just about to call you actually, or knock on your door, but then I figured that you were probably asleep,” you eyed the dark sweatpants he wore as well as the t-shirt that clung to his brawny arms as he stepped closer to where you stood, a vision that caused sinful thoughts to stir within your mind, “how did you know I was up here?”

“Uh, I didn’t,” his touch found your lower back as he reached you, “I just heard a noise.”

“Well, it’s just me,” you turned your gaze back to the night sky. 

Tilting his head, he checked, “you okay?”

“Yeah, just couldn’t sleep,” you nodded, “but I’m okay.”

His eyes twitched slightly as the faintest of smiles threatened at his lips, “so you didn’t wanna call me because something was wrong.”

“No…” you bit down on your smile, “I was just thinking about you…” the smug smirk that then bloomed on his face caused you to instantly chuckle with regret, “oh, that came out sounding a lot more dirty than I intended it to,” the meaning behind your words had been dirty, but he didn’t have to revel in it. Curling his arm around you, his laughter mixed and mingled with your own as you soon exhaled, “man, I should probably head back to bed soon, try and give sleep another chance. I just–, urgh,” you let out an adorable groan and buried your face in his broad shoulder, “I don’t wanna leave now that you’re here.”

“I mean, you don’t have to, if you don’t want,” he suggested, his tone staying on the lighter side as to not build up any pressure, “you’re welcome to come sleep in my bed if you want to.”

“O-oh,” your gaze fluttered up to flicker across his face, “alright, sure.” 

Stepping inside and descending the creaky staircase, the living room was lit up in bright fluorescent shades of lavender by the huge billboard directly outside. Letting the blanket around you drop to the coffee table, you eyed Matt’s dark bedroom before his hand found yours. 

“What side do you prefer to sleep on?” you asked as you neared the dusty grey linens adorning his bed. 

“I’m fine with either,” his fingers gently brushed across your knuckles before you let go of him. 

“Alright,” you slipped in under the silky covers on the side of the bed nearest to you. As he crawled in on the other side, you drew in a sharp breath, “well,” tugging your knees up further towards your chest, you didn’t dare to twist and look at him even though you wished for so much more than a glimpse, “goodnight, Matt.”

His knuckles briefly found your back, caressing it just for a second before he uttered, “night.”

You had never been further from slumber than you were lying there in Matt’s bed. Just the knowledge of him resting right behind you had you hyper-aware of everything. Lying as still as a rock…your ragged breathing… your wild pulse… but mostly the throbbing between your thighs…

Turning slowly to lie on your back, your hand came down to rest on the mattress but landed instead on Matt’s gently closed fist. Instinctively, you yanked it back, recoiled from his warmth just a second before you carefully let your fingers shyly slide across the covers to find him again. The coy dance beneath the duvet was playful till his digits unravelled and welcomed yours. 

“…Matt?” your voice came out no louder than a whisper. 

“Yeah?” 

Glancing over at his visage in the darkness, you asked, “are you very tired?” 

With a gentle smile blooming on his lip, a soft shake tilted his head from side to side against the pillow, “no.”

Curling closer, his arms tangled around you in an instant. When your lips brushed against each other at first, for a while it was just this sweet and slow midnight kiss, nothing more, nothing less. But when you nuzzled in nearer, the simple peck grew into something much more heated. 

Your leg curled up over his hip, gliding it lavishly against him as his tongue slid across your own. His strong arms felt so incredible around you, but you wanted more, you needed more. 

On an exhale, he rolled onto his back, but you weren’t quite sure if he had dragged you with him or if you had clung to him, perhaps a mixture of both. All you knew was that now you were sprawled out on top of him, completely melted against his chest as his lips were still locked with yours.

When you adjusted yourself slightly and shifted down further, your hips instinctively rolled enticingly as you settled atop of his growing hardness, already straining against his sweatpants and desperate to be hugged by your warmth. He let out a low groan as his wide palms slid down the length of your spine and over the curve of your ass. 

Parting briefly, you breathed, “Matt?”

“Hm?” he hummed as his lips nipped at your jaw. 

“You sure you’re not tired?” your eyes threatened to flutter shut. 

“I’m sure,” his hands slid back up to your waist as he let his kisses fade.

Blinking down at him in the darkness, you felt as if your heart could burst out of your chest at any moment, “do you wanna, maybe–, uhm… you know…”

“Do you want to?” his thumb soothingly circled your side and your hips unintentionally rolled once more. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. 

Your confirmation caused a smile to tug at his lips as he uttered, “okay.”

“Can I–…” your teeth briefly caught your bottom lip, “can I take your shirt off?”

A warm chuckle rumbled within his chest as he nodded lightly. Sitting up, your frame followed along as you didn’t shift to get out of his lap. As your fingers dug into the soft cotton of his t-shirt, he let you pull it off of him yourself. 

You couldn’t make out too many of the fine details that decorated his physic, but perhaps that was a good thing, perhaps that’d make it easier. You could always study every millimetre of him later. Right now, the dim vision of him the night granted you was more than enough to turn you into a puddle. 

Running your hands over his bare skin, they only stayed a moment before straying away from the warmth to yank your own top off. 

One of his hands swiftly soared up and gently caught one of your boobs. A shuttering moan flew from your lips, inadvertently letting Matt know that his intuitive move wasn’t unwelcome, allowing his assurance to grow as he permitted his caresses to move more freely. 

Seizing your lips as he softly squeezed your peak, his kisses then began to migrate and dance down the column of your neck till they reached your tits, his palm cupping one closer to his attentive mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered as his lips enclosed around one of your pebbly nipples, his tongue swirling over it before he nipped, causing your core to clench around nothing. 

You couldn’t help but stuff a hand into your pyjama pants and offer yourself an ounce of relief. 

Gliding his touch down to your bottom, his fingers fleetingly dug into your ass before they slid up to your hips, hooking his digits in the fabric. And with his face still buried in your tits, littering the soft skin with hickeys, Matt slightly tugged at your waistband, “do you want these off?”

Your answer came out sounding breathy, “yes,” before you stopped playing with yourself as he then helped pull both your pants and the soaked underwear beneath them off. 

As you settled back down into his lap, he pulled you in and seized your lips. Fingers finding your glistening folds once more, his soon joined yours, digits briefly weaving before your own touch began to falter and you let him take over entirely. 

Your head tilted back when he eased a finger inside of your creamy cunt, your juices swiftly coated his digit and dripped down his hand as he caressed you at an overwhelmingly slow pace. His touch made you feel as if you were floating on a cloud and you were already so far gone that when he filled you up with another finger, dreamily giving your eager pussy just a little bit more, you tumbled over the edge. 

Eyes only half open as you watched him curve down to plant soft kisses all along your ribs, both of his solid arms wrapped around you and keeping you up as you panted, “do you have a condom?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, “you wanna keep going?”

“Please,” your fingers then tried to push down the remainder of his clothing, “I wanna feel you,” he swiftly aided your efforts and slipped his dark sweatpants off, “I wanna feel all of you.”

Reaching a long arm over into the nightstand’s drawer, Matt fished out a little foil packet. Your foreheads joined and pressed up against one another as he rolled the latex on. 

His fingers grasped onto the base of his girth, silkily stroking himself as you supported your wobbly balance on his broad shoulders, steadying yourself as you raised your hips further up. Reaching a hand down, your touch met his as he teased his tip against your puff, nudging at your swollen clit before parting your petals in a lush motion. Your palm briefly floated up to your mouth and collected a dollop of saliva before you lowered it back down, only taking a second to glisten his throbbing cock up with it before you dragged him down towards your entrance. 

“Oh my god…” you moaned shakily as you slowly began to sink down upon him, shallowly at first as his arm tightened around your waist to support you, “fuck…” 

Trailing his other palm up your quivering thigh, he groaned, “that’s it, take your time,” before his fingers settled where you united, “fuck, you’re doing so good,” he rolled your clit slowly under his calluses, your nectar dripping down his length as you gradually slid further down.

When his dick eventually settled so deep within you that you thought the night sky would appear on the ceiling of his bedroom, you pressed a breathless kiss to his lips. 

As you gave his shoulders a slight push, his frame rested back down against the mattress and you followed suit. Tits smooshed down against his chest, his fingers had disappeared from your puffy pearl as you just stayed there a moment, frozen as you took in the staggering sensation of what he felt like buried so deep inside of you that it made you lightheaded.

“This,” you uttered thickly, “this is what I thought about earlier,” your laboured breaths fanned across his face, “and you wanna know what?”

“What?” his answer flowed from him swiftly.

A smile bloomed on your lips as your hips began to roll, “my imagination couldn’t even come close to how amazing you feel.”

As you found a gentle pace, a low moan escaped Matt’s lips as the details of his cock dragged against your silky walls, “christ, sweetheart,” he couldn’t help but buck up into you, an instinct that earned him a lewd whimper of approval.

Keeping up his own efforts, you briefly stole a sloppy peck from him before your spine straightened back up and you established a new and intoxicating rhythm. 

“Fuck, that’s it, there you go,” he grunted as you rode him, the majority of his length never strayed from the warmth of your pussy as you electrically rolled and rocked atop of him, “atta girl,” his fingers dug into your hips, “god, you feel so good, fucking perfect.”

As your fingers lowered to find your clit, the bouncing pace you’d found slowly began to waver as you felt yourself begin to near the end once more. Your form then collapsed back down against his as your hips tried and failed to keep up the same euphoric pattern you’d found before. 

But as soon as Matt’s hips thrust beneath you, effortlessly hitting a molten spot deep within you that you’d barely managed before on your own, all of your brief worries melted away. 

“Matt-,” your face smooshed against his chest as you panted, “h-holy shit!”

Holding your hips steady, he ravenously bucked up into you, “please keep making those noises for me, sweetheart,” his low growl harmonised with the lewd melody of his desperate efforts, “you sound so fucking good.”

As you felt your pussy clamper around him so hard it nearly halted his movements completely, your fingers sought out your nipples in a harsh pinch, trembling above him and crying out as you came undone. 

With how tight your cunt clenched down around his throbbing girth, even if Matt didn’t wish for the marvellous moment to end just yet, perhaps fantasise about dragging it out till the sun rose, he couldn't help it as your pussy milked him so perfectly of all of his worth and he joined you in the boneless tangle of satisfaction. 

Sluggishly, you clung to him, utterly melted atop of his frame even as he carefully pulled out and nimbly snaked an arm between your limp forms to peel off the spent condom and toss it. 

His chest rose and fell with every deep breath beneath your head as he eventually asked, “how do you feel?” 

Letting yourself ponder a second and uncover the answer through your haze, you only found yourself thawing further down against him as you let your eyes flutter shut and uttered, “safe.”

Rain hammered against the windows as you rushed out of the door. The sun was nowhere to be seen yet, but your day had already begun. 

As you locked your front door with a dull click, a worrying thud halted your feet from scurrying along. 

Whirling your head around, you glanced to the source of the concerning crash, at your neighbour’s door, before slowly walking up and letting your fist softly collide with it. There never came an answer, not even when you tried again, that time more forcefully.

Unable to shake that unsettling concern off of you, your feet carried you up to the roof and the apartment’s emergency exit. As your fingers enclosed around the cold knob, you momentarily snapped yourself out of your unease.  

Maybe something wasn’t wrong. Maybe Matt hadn’t hurt himself and desperately needed help. Maybe, even though your ears had interpreted the sound as something troublesome, it could have just been that he wasn’t alone, that perhaps you weren’t the only girl he let into his bed, perhaps one more prone to making a ruckus. 

Either way, it wasn’t under any circumstances appropriate for you to not only invade his privacy, but literally break into his home, yet you still found your fingers slowly twisting the door handle. 

Just one peek. If he didn’t need someone to call for an ambulance, then you’d slip right back out, even if whatever the true cause was broke your heart. 

You only mustered two steps down the stairs before you spotted a surprising, yet familiar masked man sprawled out on the living room floor, unconscious and bleeding.

You scarcely breathed as you slowly neared him. Even in the low pre-dawn light, you were able to make out the slashes that tore up parts of his black suit. Carefully, you kneeled down beside him as your eyes scanned over his wounded frame. 

You had to do something. The vigilante had saved your life, so the very least you could do was repay him the favour. 

Spotting a trickle of crimson drip down from beneath his black mask, streaking down across his gruff jaw, with a trembling hand you pulled the mask further up to get a better look at how grave the injury was, only for you to discover who was hiding behind the disguise.

“…Matt?”

Settled on the couch and with a dark blanket draped over him, only covering some of the scars the darkness hadn’t let you spot previously, Matt stirred awake. 

From one of the armchairs, you hugged your knees closer to your chest as you uttered, “hi,” your voice came out sounding small and fragile.

Freezing up, Matt’s head tilted toward you, “Y/n?” he cautiously spoke, “what–… when did you get here?”

“A few minutes before Foggy did,” his friend had shown up, concerned out of his mind when Matt hadn’t answered his phone after recklessly throwing himself into a stupidly dangerous plan. He’d stayed a while, for as long as he could till he eventually had to leave, “I heard a noise, thought something was wrong and you needed help…”

“You–… you know…” he stated, and you just let your crushing silence confirm it, “…did you patch me up?” 

“No, that was a friend of yours that Foggy called–, Claire I think, but that was a while ago. You were out cold for a really long time,” you averted your gaze and stared down at your hands, letting the silence momentarily consume the space before you hesitantly opened your mouth once more, “…how do you–… Foggy tried to explain to some extent, but how do you–, how do you do it?” 

“It’s complicated,” he said slowly, letting out a hushed groan as he carefully pushed himself up to a seated position. 

“Complicated, how?” 

A low exhale flowed from his lips before he uttered, “…I know that yesterday you worked with strawberries. You didn’t eat any, but I can still smell them beneath your fingernails from when you cut them up… I know you’re hungry right now and the only thing you’ve eaten since breakfast was an apple a bit ago. I can still taste it off your lips… and I know that me telling you all of that is making you uncomfortable… because I can hear your heartbeat… but I’m not scaring you.”

Blinking back at him, you saw your chest rise and fall rapidly in your periphery, “wow… I mean, Foggy did say that your senses were sharp, but that–… I can’t fucking believe it…”

Bowing his head lightly, his jaw clenched, “you have every right to be angry–”

“Angry?” you repeated, your eyes growing wide, “Matt… it’s you. It was you…” tears began to blur up your vision, “did you–… did you know who I was when I moved in here or was that first when I told you about that night?”

Staying quiet a moment, he eventually nodded, “yeah. I knew… I am so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? Matt,” rising from the chair, at an instant, you’d crossed to his side and sat down on the couch beside him, “you helped me, you saved me. That was you. You’re–…” hands drifting up to carefully cup his scruffy cheeks, you uttered, “you’re him.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[sunflowersandsapphires]

A Gentle Touch

Installment 1 of The Catlike Tendencies of Matthew Murdock

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: Matt doesn't know how to ask for physical affection.

warnings: none that I can think of!

a/n: long story short this is inspired by my wife’s orange cat. He loves her but only tolerates me most of the time, unless I’m the only one home when he wants attention. However, he doesn’t really know how to cuddle with me since we don’t do it often so he just awkwardly lurks wherever I am until I invite him closer. It happened earlier and I thought it was hilariously Matt-coded so I wrote this. (It’s set in the Of Oak and Ivy verse because I love them, but you don’t need to read that story for this)

w/c: 2.3k

You were absolutely enthralled in the story Foggy was telling when the noise caught you off guard. A small puff of air, sounding almost like a voiceless sigh. Glancing toward Matt who was the closest to you, one look at his stony expression told you it had come from him. He was clearly irritated, despite his face being blank. You’d known him for long enough that you could tell when something was on his mind. 

Maybe he’d heard this story too many times? You leaned more heavily into his arm, which was parallel to yours. 

Turning your attention back to Foggy, you flinched with a laugh as he gestured wildly when concluding his story, spraying beer at you from his mostly full bottle. 

“Geez, Fog. Reaching your limit already?” Matt smirked, his icy exterior fading away as you giggled beside him. 

“He is, he’s all flushed. This is just like that party at the Beta house sophomore year.” You shook your head, looking at Karen with an exasperated expression. “Have they told you the possum story?” 

Smiling gleefully, Karen shook her head. “The possum story?” 

Both Matt and Foggy groaned, protesting and blushing furiously, but Karen was adamant. And who were you to not indulge her?

“In the fall of our second year at Columbia, Matt and Foggy got absolutely plastered on some disgusting concoction of cheap alcohol and Hawaiian Punch,” You began, rolling your eyes as Foggy gagged across from you. 

“God, even the thought of it—“ The blond mime-retched. 

“Yah the smell of Hawaiian Punch still makes me nauseous.” Matt shuddered next to you. 

Karen stifled a giggle as you continued to illustrate just how inebriated you’d found them when you’d come to pick them up. “I was studying and had sat the party out, but offered to drive them home when Fog called me screaming at someone to chug alcohol. I figured they’d both be in no shape to get home.”

“You were correct.” Foggy nodded. 

“I don’t remember anything from that night, but I assume I was the one chugging.” Matt grimaced, laughing sheepishly. 

“So I drove over to the house, somehow got ahold of Matt and managed to convince him to herd Foggy and himself into my car. When they get there, they’re holding this bundle, right? I figured it was dirty clothes or something. But as we were driving home the clothes start hissing.”

“Oh, NO!” Karen cackled, propping herself up on her elbows as she listened to the story. 

“Oh yes. Naturally, I ask Fog what he’s holding and he says ‘my dog’.” 

“We didn’t have a dog,” Matt clarified, looking incredibly guilty. 

“No you did not.” You squeezed his arm, hoping he could hear in your voice that you had no resentment over the incident. “Foggy unwraps the thing a bit and introduces it as ‘Spot’. But instead of a dog,”

“It’s a possum.” Karen finishes for you, nearly in stitches over her coworkers’ mortified faces. 

“An angry one at that. I have no idea where it came from or how they managed to catch it, but there it was.” You shook your head, still amazed at their ability to wrangle the creature while piss-drunk. 

“What happened to it?” Karen asked, and the men erupted. 

“That’s classified.” Foggy stated firmly, lips pressed together. 

“A story for another time,” Matt rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

“Don’t tell me you killed it!” Karen gasped, whirling to look at the out of them sternly. 

“Of course not! No possums were harmed in the making of this story, just mildly inconvenienced.” You assured her. “They’re just clamming up because they can’t remember whose fault it was that it got loose in the science hall.”

Trailing off into a fit of laughter, Karen was quick to follow you as the two men started arguing, pointing fingers. Sitting back and enjoying the show, you shot Karen knowing glances as Matt and Foggy fought, no real heat behind their words. 

You’d had so much fun that night, reliving one of the funniest moments of your college years, that you’d completely forgotten about the aggravated sound. Until about one month after, when you were sitting next to Matt on a bench in the courthouse. 

The case he and Foggy had been working on was tedious and full of metaphorical landmines that threatened to ruin any shot your client had at escaping her abusive husband. The entire firm had been on edge, struggling to keep everything in order. Given your lack of steady employment at the moment, you’d been helping out wherever you could, and had been working this case from day one, right alongside Matt. Which is how you’d ended up beside him rather than Foggy. 

The blond had flown out of town a few days before to attend an extended family reunion, leaving the rest of you to man the fort, so to speak. Usually, that wouldn’t be an issue, but Matt had been increasingly temperamental leading up to the ex parte hearing. His normal reserved demeanor had rapidly been replaced by a moody, antagonistic version of him–driving poor Karen to her wit’s end. 

After Matt had incited a screaming match over a spilled cup of coffee, you’d told her to take her lunch early, giving her a couple hours where she didn’t need to walk on eggshells. The plan seemed to be working so far, Matt responding with less hostility to your persistent support rather than Karen’s eager suggestions for an aggressive approach. Something about this case had rubbed Matt the wrong way. His invisible hackles were standing on end, posture almost bristling as he sat beside you, twisting a white-knuckled fist around his cane. And, though you understood why Karen was pushing for another solution, you agreed with Matt that this needed to be handled quickly and quietly. 

Scowling at the floor, Matt’s joints rolled beneath the delicate skin of his hands. His jaw was clenched, shoulders curled inward, as if he expected the judge to request a fist fight to grant the protection order. Christ, that could not be comfortable.

Carefully, slow enough to not spook him when he was in this state, you slid the pads of your fingers over the back of his hand. Prying his firm grip off the handle of his cane, you cradled his massive, calloused hand in your lap. He visibly relaxed at the touch, twisting to face you as you traced gentle patterns over his skin, careful to avoid the line of freshly healed cuts on his knuckles. Your curiosity would have to wait for now. There was no way he was in the mood to explain those.

A breathy rumble sounded in his throat, akin to a sigh but less obvious. The same noise he’d made all those days ago at Josie’s–the quiet indication that something wasn’t right. 

Bottom lip jutting out in sympathy, you squeezed his fingers with your own. “It’ll be ok, Matty.” 

He swallowed roughly, hazel eyes darting around behind his red lenses. You could practically see the thoughts forming in his mind before he buried them, the stress forcing him back into bad habits. Sweeping your fingers over his wrist, you studied him, satisfaction thrumming in your chest when his breath hitched. “Hey, talk to me, trouble. What are you thinking?”

“It’s not going to go well.” His voice was pitched low, angry, but there was a brief undercurrent of fear within it. 

“We don’t know that.” You chastised lightly, knowing this pessimistic streak was a coping mechanism and not confirmation he’d become a nihilist. 

“I can feel it. Can’t you feel it? It’s like every officer is laughing at us. We’ve already lost.” Watching Matt, the perpetual optimist, crumble at the thought of things not going the way you’d planned nearly broke your heart. 

“Oh trouble, don’t say that.” Threading your fingers with his, you knocked your knees together. “It’ll be ok. Even if the judge doesn’t grant the order today, we won’t stop trying, right?”

“No but she needs legal protection now. Truthfully, she needs an armed guard.” Matt spoke bitterly.

“We can get her temporary protection.” You suggested.

“They’d never grant that for a simple DV case. Besides, those are his coworkers. Do you really trust them to keep her safe from him?” Matt scoffed, raising a brow at you. 

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you jabbed your pinky into the flesh of his palm. “I wasn’t suggesting we go to the police, Matthew. You and I both know how little good that would do.”

Deflating as he realized you weren’t being as naive as he suspected, Matt frowned. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Not everyone knows the flaws in the system.” You reassured him. “But I do. To some extent, at least.”

He hummed in agreement, but said nothing. 

“What’s really bothering you?” At your insistent question, Matt’s face flashed with rage, his spine straightening as he tried to pull out of your grasp, but you held fast. “Don’t you dare, trouble. Please, talk to me. It’s eating you away, I can’t sit here and let that happen.” 

Sighing harshly, Matt ran a hand over his face. “I just..this case feels different. I don’t know why. But if we can’t help her…”

“All we can do is try our best.” You reminded him. 

He let out a single humorless laugh. “I suppose that’s true.” 

When you let his hand drop, he made that pitiful, choked noise again. 

“What?” You asked, slightly worried. 

“Nothing. Just tired.” He lied, wrapping his hand back around the handle of his cane.

It was only once you were truly together that you realized what that specific sound was meant to signify. 

Since you’d officially started dating, or rather labeling whatever you two had as a relationship instead of dancing around each other, that stupid noise had cemented itself in your life. It seemed like Matt was making it every damn day and it was driving you up a wall. 

Not because Matt wasn’t entitled to his feelings or to expressing said feelings. But because your brain registered that the sound had a specific meaning, and you could not for the life of you translate it from a mere Matt-ism into a language you actually understood. Every little quirk and charm about Matt inherently made sense to you, they always had. Yet this little growling exhale seemed out of your reach. Not to mention, anytime you tried to ask him what was up, he shut down faster than a computer chip dunked in pool water.

Sitting on his couch as he typed on his laptop, he snarled out that sound, eyes darting towards you and away before you could blink. Brows furrowing, you peered at him over the top edge of your book. A muscle in his cheek twitched, a blaring omen that he was holding himself back from saying something. 

“You ok?” You asked, nose scrunching as Matt brushed off your concern. 

“Yep. Hungry.” He grumbled. 

One word answers. Great start. Really breaking down his walls there, champ. 

“Oh, gotcha. I’ll order something. Have a taste for anything in particular?” Setting your book across your thighs, you opened up a delivery app on your phone. 

“No.” 

“Okay...” You drawled, stifling an eye roll at his grouchiness. “How about that Lebanese place we liked?” 

Receiving nothing but a thumbs up in response, you submit an order before Matt reached another stage of hangriness. 

Once Matt had eaten half of his shawarma, he was more agreeable. Smiling and chuckling sweetly as you read him cheesy snippets of your romance novel. Crawling across the couch until you were seated beside him, you stretched over his lap to snatch a piece of pita bread for your plate of hummus. Matt blew out a breath, tickling your ear as he grunted. Now that you were close, you could hear the shrill, whimpering undertone. Hidden, nearly silent, as if the growl was to compensate for the whine, to conceal it. 

Craning your neck towards him, you planted your free hand on your hip. 

“Alright. Out with it.” 

“Out with what?” Matt gave his best ‘befuddled’ impression, but you saw past his feigned innocence. 

Snorting, you prodded his firm chest. As your finger connected with his solid pec, he whimpered again, this time almost moaning. Something clicked. 

“Matthew Michael Murdock,” You gasped. “You are not making that sound instead of asking to cuddle.” 

Blushing furiously, Matt dipped his head, ashamed–though he made no attempt to deny the allegation.

Laughing incredulously, you tossed your plate aside and settled into Matt’s lap, threading a hand into his hair. “You are a ridiculous man.”

Matt rumbled happily, leaning into the touch until his head landed against your chest. Clutching his face between your palms, you trailed soft touches over his cheeks, around his ears–scratching tenderly down his neck when he practically melted beneath your fingertips.

“You could’ve told me that’s what you wanted, all this time…” Shaking your head, you planted a kiss atop his thick hair. “Why suffer in silence?”

“Didn’t want to force you. It’s been different. Since..everything.” 

Snuggling in close, you maneuvered his chin with two fingers, kissing him deeply. His stubble brushed over your skin roughly, making you smile. “You can always always ask, trouble. No need to be a martyr with me.”

“Sorry,” Matt murmured against your lips, chasing your mouth with a mournful noise as you pulled away. 

“Don’t be sorry. Now come here.” Tugging him on top of you, you laughed brightly as he squirmed over you, finally relaxed when his face was tucked against your neck. “That’s it. Better?” 

“Much better.” He whispered, going limp under your touch as your fingers stroked up his back.

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