#chef!matt murdock

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Cooking Up Love, Chapter 1

Pairing: Chef!Matt Murdock x F!Journalist!Reader

Rating: T (Not expecting the rating to go up, but this is me we're talking about, so who knows, lol.)

Story Summary: You are a journalist working for the NY Bulletin when you get assigned to interview multi- Michelin star chef Matthew Murdock, co-owner of Daredevil, the hottest new restaurant in Hell's Kitchen. Unfortunately for you, however, Chef Murdock isn't exactly trusting of journalists. As you work to peel back the layers of the closed-off culinary genius, you find yourself becoming interested in more than just his cooking.

Chef Matthew Murdock is struggling to rebuild his culinary reputation after being burned by his former flame, renowned food critic Elektra Natchios. So naturally, when a journalist from the NY Bulletin comes around for an interview he isn't exactly welcoming... Until he finds himself starting to fall for you.

Can two hearts learn to trust one another or will your budding romance go up in flames?

Warnings/Tags: Hallmark levels of fluffy, cheesy goodness (and speed that their relationship develops, lol), no use of Y/N, Matt is not a vigilante, more tags to come as the story develops

Word Count: ~900

A/N: Thank you to everyone for all the excitement over the teaser and I hope you enjoy my self-indulgent Hallmark rom-com chef AU!

And extra thanks to the ultra-talented @theradioactivespidergwen for the adorable divider she made for this! 🥰

Tag List: @yarrystyleeza @hailey-murdock

…And the secret to such a long life?

"Lots of love and laughter," Beth replied with a cheeky smile, "and just not giving a damn what other people think."

You nodded to yourself as you finished reading over your latest story for the New York Bulletin, the newspaper that you worked for. Perfect.

You sent it off to your editor, Mitchell Ellison, for final approval then looked up from your desk as you heard him call your name. "Yeah?"

"I've got a new assignment for you. Walk with me."

You scrambled up from your chair as Ellison passed by your desk, excited to hear what your next assignment was. "What is it?"

"I want you to interview the executive chef at this new restaurant that just opened. Apparently the chef is a big deal in the culinary world."

Your smile fell. You were hoping for a good investigative assignment this time, not another fluff piece. "But Kelsie covers the food and restaurant beat."

"Yeah, well, Kelsie is out sick with food poisoning -- and before you say anything, yes, I do realize the irony." Ellison sighed as the two of you entered his private office. "I really need you on this one -- apparently the chef doesn't usually do interviews but his business partner promised us an exclusive, and besides, you're the best reporter I've got. You'd really be saving my ass here."

You folded your arms and looked at Ellison pointedly. "If I'm the best reporter you've got, then you're gonna start paying me like it. I want a raise." 

Ellison narrowed his eyes at you. "What kind of raise are we talking about here?"

You did some quick mental math. "Twelve percent."

Ellison balked. "Twelve? Are you insane? We could maybe do six."

You shook your head. "Ten, plus I want to move to Lauren's old desk by the window."

After Ellison remained quiet, you shrugged. "You know, maybe I should call that person from the Times back about the position they offered me..."

You turned to leave.

Ellison groaned. "Okay, okay, wait, fine. You've got a deal."

You turned back and shook his hand. "Okay, so who am I interviewing?"

Ellison picked up a sheet of paper and handed it to you. "Guy's name is Matthew Murdock. He's the owner and executive chef of Daredevil, just opened up on 44th."

You scanned the name and address. "What's my deadline?"

"Two weeks -- we need it ready to run in the New York Restaurant week edition."

You nodded. That was pretty tight, but doable. "So when's the interview?"

Ellison coughed. "In 30 minutes."

You looked at him incredulously. "30 minutes? I have zero time to do any research or prepare any questions!"

Ellison shrugged. "If anyone can wing it, you can."

You shook your head and turned to exit his office once again. "You're lucky I'm so good, Ellison!"

You hurried back to your desk and typed "Matthew Murdock chef Daredevil NYC" into your search engine, eyebrows raising at the photograph that popped up. Chef Murdock stood in front of Daredevil, arms crossed and lips turned up into a smirk. He had dark, wavy hair and was wearing a red chef's coat with black trim and round sunglasses with red lenses. Damn, he's hot. 

You quickly made a few notes based on his (very brief) bio on the Daredevil website before dashing out of the office, praying that you would make it to the interview on time.

"You did what?" Matt hissed as Foggy Nelson, his business partner and sous chef, stood in the doorway of his office.

"Scheduled you for an interview with the food writer from the Bulletin," Foggy replied. 

Matt shook his head. "You know I don't do interviews. Not with wannabe food bloggers, not with TV reporters, not with writers for culinary magazines, and certainly not with food critics for newspapers."

"I don't think she's actually a food critic, she just writes for the food section of the newspaper." Foggy huffed out a breath. "Come on, Matt, you know we need the publicity. The opening hasn't gone as well as we'd hoped and if we have too many more slow nights we're gonna already be in trouble."

Matt scowled. Unfortunately, Foggy was right -- business had been way slower than they had hoped in their first month of opening and a front-page interview with the Bulletin during Restaurant Week actually would be great publicity. "Then you do it."

"You're the culinary genius behind the food, I'm just your business partner and sous chef." Foggy sighed. "My point is that it's your name attached to all those Michelin stars, not mine."

"So what am I getting out of this?"

"The editor promised us the front page of the Restaurant Week kickoff edition."

Matt huffed out a breath. "I hate you so much right now, you know that, right?"

Foggy chuckled. "Thanks, Matty."

"When's the interview?" Matt wanted to do some research on the Bulletin's food writer before he sat down with her just to see if she actually understood the culinary world or if she was just a glorified 'foodie'.

"In 15 minutes."

"What?" Matt shook his head and got up to put his chef's coat on and get ready. This had better be worth it.

[ravenhairedwaywanderer]

[ijustreallylovedaredevil]

IT'S WET SLUT O'CLOCK

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

"Your mouth is open wide. The lover is inside. And all the tumult's done..."

... And something shifts again. But this time, it’s different. Matt turned his head, just slightly. The space between them was small. His hand twitched on the couch, resisting the urge to reach. Y/N’s voice was softer when she spoke. "You good, Matt?" Matt swallowed, tilting his chin down, the smirk on his lips barely there. "Yeah." "You're staring," she murmured, throwing one of her significant jabs at him. "I'm not." "Hm-hm." She hummed, giggling. "You totally are."

And then—

He moved.

Matt's hand found her knee first, the fingertips skimming against denim. And when she didn’t pull away, didn’t stiffen—when she tilted her head just so, her breath fanning against his jaw—he took it as permission. The kiss was slow at first... testing. But the second she responded and moaned quietly, Matt deepened it, pressing her back against the worn-out cushions. Body to body, curled up and puzzled on that old, worn-out couch. They could break it for all he cared—at least he could buy a new one. He nearly towered over Y/N now, one hand braced on the couch beside her head, the other grazing the line of her jaw. Her fingers curled into his shirt, gripping slightly, and the feeling shot straight through him.

It was good—too good. His body was set ablaze, breath hitching, blood boiling. His glasses were gone, his right hand undoing his shirt, his fingers trembling with adrenaline. Good, so fucking good.

"... you're staring at the sun. You're standing in the sea. Your body's over me." - Staring at the Sun (TV On The Radio)

[4doorssys]

[razzadoop]

devil suit no mask matthew im in love with you

[twilight-deviant]

Daredevil (1964) #180

Daredevil (1964) #192

[myjedimullet]

Just watched Born Again and the title sequence is amazing, but having to wait a whole week between episodes? Not my favorite D':

[mugrisstuff]

when in mattfoggy fics matt is foggy's personal demon or something like that ohhh boy that's doing numbers!!

[moss-g0blin]

black suit daredevil supremecy

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Cooking Up Love, Chapter 2

Pairing: Chef!Matt Murdock x F!Journalist!Reader

Rating: T (for now, might change, might not)

Story Summary: Here

Warnings/Tags: Hallmark levels of fluffy, cheesy goodness (and speed that their relationship develops, lol), no use of Y/N, Matt is not a vigilante, he is a bit of a dick though, more tags to come as the story develops

Word Count: ~1800 (literally double last chapter, lol)

A/N: Thank you to everyone who liked and commented on the first chapter! If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please don't hesitate to ask!

And thanks so much to @theradioactivespidergwen for the adorable divider!

Tag List: @yarrystyleeza @hailey-murdock @mattkinsella @bellaxgiornata @danzer8705

You checked your smartwatch for the time as you rushed down the sidewalk towards Daredevil. Your GPS had told you that it'd be faster to walk there from the Bulletin than take a cab given the time of day, but you were starting to wonder if maybe you should've taken your chances.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you spotted the restaurant up ahead then slowed a bit so you could catch your breath before reaching the entrance. Okay. It's fine, I'm on time, I got this.

You looked up at the restaurant. Daredevil was displayed in dark red lettering above the entranceway, with different patterns of dots underneath each letter. Huh. Interesting choice.

You reached for the door handle and pulled, only to find it locked. Shit.

You looked at the sign next to the door. 

Hours of Operation:

Sunday: 11 AM - 2 PM

Monday: Closed

Tuesday - Thursday 5 PM - 10 PM

Friday - Saturday: 5 PM - 12 AM

You reached into your purse to call the restaurant… only to realize that you had left your cell phone sitting on your dresser at home.

You sighed. Great.  

"Can I help you?"

You turned as a pretty blonde-haired woman walked up and unlocked the door. "Oh, um, yeah, I hope so."

You dug a business card out of your wallet and handed it to her. "I'm with the New York Bulletin . I'm supposed to be interviewing Chef Murdock in a minute, but I left my phone at home so I'm unable to let him know I'm here."

The woman's eyebrows raised as she looked at your business card. "You're interviewing Matt?"

"Um, yes?"

The woman narrowed her eyes at you suspiciously. "Just a second, I'll be right back."

You waited as the woman went inside and locked the door behind her.

A few minutes later she returned and unlocked the door, this time with a friendly smile on her face.

She held the door open for you. "Come on in."

"Thanks." You stepped inside.

"I'm Karen," the woman said. "I run front-of-house."

"Nice to meet you," you replied.

Karen led you to a table near the right corner of the front entrance. "Matt'll be right out. Can I get you something to drink in the meantime?"

You shook your head. "Oh, no thank you, I'm fine."

"Okay, if you change your mind, let me know."

"I will, thank you."

You took your notepad and pen out of your purse, silently cursing yourself again for leaving your phone -- which was your only audio recording device -- on your dresser.

Since you couldn't even continue your brief research on Chef Murdock while you waited, you looked around instead.

The walls were all painted a soft white with the exception of the back wall, which was exposed brick with a built-in fireplace running along the middle of it. Side tables holding bottles of wine were the only choice of decor, giving the space a simplistic look.

You kind of liked it.

Ten minutes passed, then twenty… then thirty. What is the holdup, you thought to yourself. Surely he can't be that busy since they're not open for service yet .

You were just about to get up to go ask Karen if Chef Murdock had forgotten you were there when the kitchen door opened and Chef Murdock himself came strolling out.

His photo really hadn't done him justice -- his biceps strained against the sleeves of his chef's jacket and his jawline looked like it could cut glass.

Your eyes trailed up to his, which were hidden by the same red-tinted sunglasses he had been wearing in his photo. 

You swallowed and stood as he approached, sticking your hand out for him to shake as you introduced yourself. "Mr. Murdock, thank you for meeting with me. I was told that you don't do interviews."

He ignored your hand and sat. "I don't usually, but it seems like this one was… unavoidable. And it's Chef Murdock. I didn't spend three and a half years in culinary school to be called Mr. "

You hesitated before sitting and looking down at your sparse notes. "Okay, well then. Um, Chef Murdock, I'd like to start with a few questions, if you don't mind."

"Mmm."

You took a deep breath. "Okay, so you're a Michelin star chef, correct?"

"Three." 

You looked up at him again. "Excuse me?"

"I'm a three Michelin star chef."

"Oh. Um, excuse me." Asshole . "As a three Michelin star chef, what made you want to open a restaurant here in Hell's Kitchen? Why not somewhere like Manhattan?"

"I was born and raised here in the Kitchen."

You smiled up at him. "Oh, so do your parents still live here? They must be very proud."

Chef Murdock raised an eyebrow. "Well they probably would be, except my mother abandoned me as an infant and my father was murdered shortly after the accident that blinded me as a child, which you would know if you had bothered to do a modicum of research."

Your eyes widened, your smile quickly falling from your face. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry." That at least explained the glasses and the dots on the signage out front. It's Braille. "I had no idea, I --"

"-- didn't bother to come prepared, yes, that much is clear." Chef Murdock crossed his arms. "If this is the sort of unprofessionalism that everyone who works at the Bulletin shows, then I'm not sure I should be sitting down with one of their reporters. We're done here."

You opened your mouth to protest as Chef Murdock stood and stalked off, shocked that he had suddenly stopped the interview before it even had really started. 

You stood and put your notepad and pen in your purse, fighting back tears. What the hell just happened?

This was the first time you had ever failed at an interview -- you were known for both your professionalism and your ability to get to know your subjects on a deeper, more personal level in order to get them to open up to you.

You headed back to the lobby of the restaurant, willing yourself to not cry while you were still in the building.

Karen smiled over at you. "All done?"

"Um, yeah," you mumbled. "Could you let me out, please?"

"Sure thing." Karen unlocked the door for you, looking at you curiously. "Hey, are you okay?"

You shook your head. "Fine, fine, just gotta go."

You pushed past her and exited the restaurant, waiting until you had made it into the alley next to it before you burst into tears.

Matt sighed as he took his glasses off and tossed them onto his desk. At least that's over . He hadn't gotten to where he was by half-assing anything and he certainly wasn't going to let anyone ruin what he had worked so hard to rebuild, especially some so-called 'journalist' who couldn't even bother to do some simple research before sitting down for an interview.

"What the hell did you do, Matt? Karen just told me that that journalist from the Bulletin just ran out of here practically in tears."

Matt looked up and crossed his arms in front of his chest as Foggy's familiar footsteps stopped in front of his office. "She came completely unprepared, Foggy. I wasn't going to waste my time sitting down with someone who couldn't even bother doing any sort of research before coming."

"That's because she hadn't had time to do any! The interview needed to happen right away because of deadlines and stuff for the paper so it got sprung on her at the last minute, just like I sprang it on you at the last minute."

He paused as Karen's footsteps approached. "Kare, do you still have Ms. Taylor's business card? Maybe we can try to salvage this."

Taylor? "Wait a minute, who?" Matt replied confusedly. 

"Kelsie Taylor? The food writer from the Bulletin ?" Foggy sighed exasperatedly. Jesus, Matt, did you even try to remember her name?"

Matt shook his head, beginning to feel bad for being so harsh towards you. "That's not who she said she was."

"Matt's right, it definitely wasn't her," Karen added. "At least, that wasn't the name on the card she gave me."

"Who was she then?"

Matt said your name. "She did say she was with the Bulletin though."

"Her card's on the front podium," Karen said. "I'll go get it."

Foggy turned back to Matt as Karen left. "You never were going to do the interview, were you?"

Matt winced. The last time he had agreed to any kind of journalistic endeavor had ended in disaster and almost complete ruination of his culinary reputation, and quite honestly he was terrified of it happening again. "I was , but --"

Foggy groaned. "Don't even give me that bullshit, Matt. Do you know how hard I had to work to even get you that interview? They were going to give the front page to Fisk , of all people!"

Wilson Fisk, who owned Kingpin's, had been suspected of being behind several popular restaurants' sudden closures (more than one being due to 'mysterious' kitchen fires), as well as having bought most, if not all, of the positive hype and accolades he and his restaurant had received. 

Matt scowled. He would be damned if he was going to let that bastard steal the spotlight out from underneath him. "Fisk? Really? He's not even a real chef! His sous comes up with most of his recipes, he just modifies it a bit and slaps his name on it."

"All the more reason for you to get that front page interview."

Matt heard Karen's footsteps approach again. "Got her card?"

"Yeah, it's right here," Karen replied.

Matt could smell the subtle scent of your perfume as Karen passed Foggy your business card -- something lightly floral with a hint of vanilla.

Foggy read your name off of your business card. "This says she's the Features writer."

Matt's brow furrowed. "Features? You said the food writer was doing the interview."

"I assumed she was but I guess since it was a front-page article they wanted someone else to do it." Foggy pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped at his screen. "Hang on, I'm gonna pull up the Bulletin staff."

Matt waited as Foggy pulled up the list of staff then tapped on your name. "Is this her?" he asked Karen, presumably showing her your picture.

"Yeah, that's who it was," Karen replied.

Matt nodded as his watch beeped with the time. "We have to get ready to open, but I'm going to go over to the Bulletin 's office in the morning to see if I can talk to her and straighten everything out."

He just hoped you accepted his apology.

[tarzinnia]

Don't mind me, I'm trying to figure out my hiding place so I can spy at Fogwell's gym before the next chapter of @loveroftoomanyfandoms Cooking Up Love releases. At least I think that's where he's headed...

If you haven't read it, it's not too late! Come discover what Chef Matt can do for starters. Get it? Starters? Just go read it. It's great!

Cooking Up Love

Remember! If you enjoy something, reblog it and share the joy with others!

[farfromstrange]

holy mother of fuck, my legs are open for business.

What I’d give to be a secretary at Nelson, Murdock & Page and have Matt fuck me on a table.

the abandoned tie

a/n: this man... this man, this man. i've missed him so much. he has been on my mind all summer and now i finally snapped and wrote some yummy yum about him.

summary: It was terrible, you knew full well that he was your boss, but what had started as an innocent little crush the moment that you were hired as a secretary at Nelson and Murdock only grew and flourished the longer that you worked there. It didn’t help matters either that Matthew was a natural flirt, or at least was with you, always making you stumble over your words and blush like a damn schoolgirl. But even though it was the right thing to do, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to go on and actually quit, because if you did, then he wouldn’t get the chance to make your heart flutter on a daily basis anymore, bittersweet as it may be.

warnings: matt murdock x secretary!reader, smut, coworkers to lovers, kissing, office sex, clothed sex, ripping pantyhose, manhandling, oral, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, protected sex, alcohol consumption, foggy slutshames matt (as he deserves. he a hoe and we love him for it)

word count: 4144

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

masterlist | join my taglist

“Okay,” Foggy huffed out a long exhale, “I can’t look at this anymore, I’m going all cross-eyed,” he slammed shut the laptop on the conference table before him, “I gotta call it a night,” and as he raised from his seat, your head tilted up from the intimidating stack of paper your nose was buried in, “any of you up for a round at Josie’s?”

“Uhm, actually, I think I might stay here a little longer,” your thumb brushed against the corner of the pile before you, a mountain of perhaps the most boring paperwork you’d ever given your time of day, but the small chance that some tiny nugget hid in there, something that could help the firm on their current case, convinced you to volunteer to take on the job, “see if I can make a bit more of a dent in this.”

“Alright, fair,” your colleague eyed the papers, then shifted his glance to his partner, seated on the stool directly beside where you sat, “Matt? Come on, man. Don’t let your best friend drink alone.”

“I’m sorry,” he shifted slightly in his seat, then uttered in a tone that almost made it sound as if he was just making up his answer to match yours, “but I think I’m gonna keep going as well,” though the hope that he had changed his verdict to sync up with your own was a dream you’d never truly let yourself believe.

It was terrible, you knew full well that he was your boss, but what had started as an innocent little crush the moment that you were hired as a secretary at Nelson and Murdock only grew and flourished the longer that you worked there. It didn’t help matters either that Matthew was a natural flirt, or at least was with you, always making you stumble over your words and blush like a damn schoolgirl. But even though it was the right thing to do, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to go on and actually quit, because if you did, then he wouldn’t get the chance to make your heart flutter on a daily basis anymore, bittersweet as it may be.

“Workaholics the both of you!” Foggy groaned light-heartedly, conjuring an airy chuckle to bubble out of you, “well,” he puffed as he bent down to grab his bag and stuff his laptop inside, “then I guess I’ll just see you guys in the morning.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Matt flashed his friend a smile as he crossed the threshold of the door to the conference room. 

Catching his eye through the windowed wall as he made his way out towards the exit, you waved, “night!” before he raised his hand to mirror your gesture. 

After silence had consumed the office once more and your eyes returned to their tedious scanning, a yawn soon forced its way out of your lungs. 

As your hand flew up to cup your mouth, Matt’s soaring fingers stilled over the braille on the pages before him and his head tilted up in your direction. 

“You sure you’re not done for the day?” he quietly asked. 

“No,” you uttered before the yawn was through, “I wanna stay.”

“Alright,” he breathed, “how about some coffee then?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, I can go make some–”

“No, no, stay, I didn’t mean for you to–… I’ll make it.” 

“Oh,” you blinked back at him, perhaps finding the role reversal a bit more staggering than you’d expected as you were usually the one making everyone else beverages, “y-yeah, that would be great,” before your gaze then shadowed him as he got up and crossed the small width of the humble office to the little kitchenette nook. 

You should have probably just returned to your reading as he stood there and waited for the water in the electric kettle to boil, but you just couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. 

When he returned with a steaming mug, he held it out for you to grasp, “here you go,” before he returned to his seat beside your own. 

“Thanks,” your fingers enveloped the warm ceramic before you took a small sip, one that was swiftly cut short as soon as the flavour enveloped your tongue, “wow…” 

“What? Is it bad?” 

“No, no, quite the opposite actually,” you glanced down at the coffee in amazement before your gaze flickered up to him, “it’s perfect,” you uttered, unsure if you were more shocked or just plain weak in the knees at the fact that Matt somehow knew how you took your coffee.

The evening however didn’t drag on for too much longer following the very last sip of your caffeinated beverage. You tried to return to your work, you truly did, but no matter how hard you tried to get back into the flow of things and make a proper dent in the colossal workload, you just couldn’t. 

You were too occupied staring at Matt. 

Gazing longingly at his burly forearms, exposed and framed by the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down, at his wide hands as they danced over the papers before him, nearly caressing them in the manner you always fantasised he would touch your goosebump-ridden flesh, and even at the slight furrow line that appeared betwixt his dark brows as his brain absorbed the texts he read, the little crease you so badly wished to soothe with a kiss. 

As your eyes continued to linger and your heart thumped in your chest at the way your mind ran wild, Matt’s right hand then extended in search of one of the items on the cluttered table, though before his fingers located the wanted folder, they first wandered so close to you that they grazed against your forearm resting there on the surface. 

Though the contact sent butterflies soaring throughout your stomach, the spark also managed to snap you out of your daze and jolt you back to your senses, though the realisation bolted through you so severely that in your haphazard and hazy attempt at both hiding any trace of what you’d let yourself do, as well as dive back into what you should have been doing all along, your clumsy ass twisted away in a manner that almost caused you to fall off your chair. 

Almost. 

You would have fallen face first on the cold office floor if a pair of swift hands hadn’t seized your waist. 

“Wow–, I’ve got you.” 

As your head tilted up, gratitude ready to drip off your tongue, it ceased and shrivelled as you realised just how close you now were to Matt. Your noses almost touched as his grasp didn’t move to unfasten their strong hold on you even though you were now completely out of danger. 

“You’ve got–…” you echoed hazily, “I-I–…”

As his breath fanned across your face, your eyes flickered down to his lips. You’d never been this close to him before, but now that you were, impulsivity swiftly seized your soul. 

Pressing your lips against his in a chased kiss, you soon sensed his grip shift as he kissed you back, his fingers gently digging into your sides to claw you even closer.

Though as you felt yourself melt away in the dream you’d always yearned for, a flash of sense sparked within you and caused you to plant your palms on his broad chest and push him back. 

“Oh my goodness…” your shoulders shot up towards your ears, “I am so, so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Please don’t fire–”

But no more fretful words managed to leave your lips as Matt then primally grabbed your face and shut you up with a kiss, a taste of hast tingled on his tongue as he let his own desire take over and rush for more instead of other civilised methods one could opt for in such a situation, he didn’t stop to put out the fire, only fanned the wicked flames and kissed you as if it was the last thing he’d ever do. 

It had caught you completely off guard and was only when he slowed his heated lips to smouldering pecks that you got the chance to catch up. 

“Oh my god…” you whispered slowly between kisses, utterly stunned and reeling in the reality. Your tone at first came out a bit timid as you still couldn’t believe what was transpiring, but as soon as his lips began to wander down the side of your neck and your eyes fluttered at the dizzying sensation, you felt yourself melt into the moment and echo, “oh my god…” though now in a completely different manner, one that dripped with the desire that you evidently hadn’t been the only one to keep bottled up for so long. 

As the lawyer soon rose from his seat, he dragged you up with him by the starved hold he had on your face, keeping you close and devouring your lips. 

Your fingers found his dark tie for support, the fabric of which had already previously been loosened slightly by his own fingers when they long ago drifted up to pop open the very top button of his collar. 

When his feet then shuffled and your backside bumped into the table’s edge, Matt’s palms coasted down your frame till they greedily swept over the pencil skirt you wore and cupped your ass, only letting himself cop a feel for a second before a small yelp bubbled out of you as he then lifted you up to sit on the conference table. 

As your fingers then untangled themselves from the silk hanging around his neck and swept up to the sides of his face, your eager touch bumped into his tinted glasses, which you swiftly removed and cascaded to the messy tabletop beside you where you sat. 

“Oh… Matt…” a small whimper rolled off your tongue as he then ducked down to plant sloppy pecks all along your neck, “please don’t stop…” 

His low voice then vibrated against your rapid pulse, “yeah?” 

“Uh-huh,” your head tilted slightly in a nod as your fingers stretched to weave in with his dark hair, “I–… I–…” you tried to fight through the foggy feeling he distilled in you, though ended up only offering him a short and desperate, “please.”

When you glanced down at him, fully expecting the lawyer’s lips to return to your own, you instead watched as they dipped down even lower, straying from your throat and wandering down to the sliver of skin on display in the neckline of your silky blouse. Your breathing was heavy as you watched your chest rise and fall beneath his hot pecks. Mouth agape, you stared intently as his kisses wandered even further south, his nose nuzzling against the soft material of your shirt as he dropped down to his knees. 

Planting your palms on the surface of the table for support as you watched Matt crack open your pantyhose-clad legs, his lips then dipped down to one of them as he plucked it up to rest it upon his broad shoulder, all the while a series of kisses smothered the sheer nylon clinging to your skin. 

Soon he had your skirt pushed up and bunched around your hips, fervently opening you up and peeling back your layers till he reached what he most desired. However when his touch finally did sweep up to graze against your covered centre, it didn’t continue on the journey up towards your waistband as you had assumed, but instead, his fingers pinched the sheer core of your stockings and tugged till a ripping sound rung out through the dark office. 

“Fuck…” he groaned as he finished tearing the hole, nearly making it huge enough for the nylon to just give up completely and split right down the middle, that’s how little he let remain intact before he moved on and reached for the underwear now accessible to him. 

His thumb stayed hooked in the soaked gusset of your underwear as he rushed to dive in for a taste of your divine. One of your hands shot down to gently grasp his hair as his tongue lavishly licked you up, making your whole body quiver from the way he made out with your cunt. 

Scooping a palm up to cup your tit through your clothing, Matt groaned, “shit…” his fervent rumble vibrating against your puffy pearl before he sucked down on it, “you taste so good…”

As you swiftly felt his kisses push you over the edge, your hips began to rock back against his efforts, grinding your pussy against the lower part of his face as he lapped you up, his fingers too raising to dent your thigh, both to keep your leg draped over his shoulder, but also to keep you steady through all of your squirming as you rode out your high. 

“Oh my–, fuck!” you gasped, catching your breath. Blinking down at him, you watched as he slowly rose back up, planting a few pecks in a sporadic pattern up your form till his lips again found your own. The taste of yourself was heavy on his tongue as you drifted a hand up to wipe your slickness from his stubbly chin. 

“Miss Y/l/n,” he smirked as you tilted away from his kisses to clean him better, addressing you with the same formality he only occasionally still withheld for you during your working hours together, “whatever would I do without you?”

Still in your haze, you thought too hard about the flirty comment and instead turned it into some kind of unnecessary riddle, “well, first of all, you properly wouldn’t have the evidence of what you just did all over your face, and second, then I also wouldn’t even clean it up because it wouldn’t be there, because I wouldn’t be here, and–,” but then, he simply cut off your words, frankly, as well as your brain, and pressed his lips to yours. 

“I fucking love how your mind works,” he grinned, a hand floating up to offer a feathery stroke through your hair. 

“Oh, I–,” a shiver ran down your spine as you blinked back at him, “thank you.” 

A gentle chuckle then rumbled in Matt’s chest as his fingers reached up to tug at his tie, “sweetheart, if you’re gonna thank me like that every time I pay you a compliment or talk dirty to you,” he yanked the loosened accessory over his head, “then I don’t know I’ll ever be able to stop,” and tossed the silky material to one of the dark corners of the dim room.

Tangling your arms around his neck, an amazed giggle bubbled out of you as you then settled on simply repeating, “thank you,” softly egging him on as your nose nudged against his own. 

Groaning lowly, “you little minx…” a smile tugged at his lips as he then leaned in to claim your lips once more.

As he kissed you once again, your legs snaked around his form, dragging up against his sides like a cicada in his arms.

And when he soon shifted a bit before you and extended an arm to something on the table, you breathlessly asked as your fingers floated down to undo his belt, “do you have a–,” but then you twisted your neck to see what he conjured from his bag, “oh,” you glanced down at the small foil packet in his hand, “you do,” you let out a relieved exhale, “good, because I didn’t, so here I was scrambling my mind for what other options we had.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked, the sudden presence of his hands working at freeing himself caused your own to retreat, “and what did you come up with?”

“Oh, well…” you swallowed, conjuring enough courage to utter, “we could just touch each other…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you hazily nodded, “or I could repay you the favour.”

“Yeah?” his hard length sprang free, “you’d suck my cock?”

Scarcely breathing at all, you stared as he swiftly rolled on the condom, “more than you know…” 

“But none of that’s what you really want right now, is it?” 

As his hand snaked around your hip to scoop you that much closer to the edge, you foggily shook your head, “no…”

“Tell me what it is then,” he uttered as he rubbed the bulbous head of his dick through your folds, making you squirm from the dizzying sensation, “tell me what you want.”

Though the mission of getting words out and offering him an answer seemed more difficult than you anticipated as his tip nudged against your swollen clit and made it near impossible for you to think, “I–… you. I want you,” your arms draped around his neck he inched back in for a kiss, “I-I–, Matt, please just put it in–”

Answering your prayer, he then slid his cock inside, slowly filling your dripping pussy up till his pelves pressed against your puffy pearl and the tip of him kissed a spot so deep inside of you that you felt as if you could scarcely breathe at all. 

“There you go,” his groan rumbled in your ear, “that what you wanted, huh?” though when you tried to respond, only whimpers flowed from your lips, “then be a good girl and thank me again,” he dared to request as he gently began to move, “tell me thank you for giving you exactly what you want,” and you moaned, eyes rolling at the way he dragged his girth out of you, so overwhelmingly slow that your cunt clenched around him so tightly that he had to carve anew when he finally thrust forward and filled you up once more, “come on, you can do it. Your pussy’s already doing it in her own incredible way.”

As his lips lowered to flutter against the side of your neck, you faintly murmured, “t-thank you–” 

Though the cocky lawyer only bucked into you harder, making you tremble in his grasp as he smirked against your goosebump-ridden skin, “what was that?”

“Thank you, M-Matt!” you successfully squeaked.

“Atta girl,” his hand slid up the column of your neck as your head began to lull, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

“Uh-uh,” you hazily shook your head as you clung to his broad shoulders. 

Lightly enveloping his fingers around your neck, just to keep you close, his other digits then reached down between your bodies to find your clit in a harsh rub as he dared to say, “then say it again…”

The words of gratitude then became like a mantra on your lips, incoherently flowing through your moans as he rocked into you so hard that the conference table rattled beneath you, fucking you till you both tumbled over the edge, though the simple phrase still kept rolling off your tongue even when he offered to walked you home afterwards and too when he pressed a soft peck to your forehead, whispering you goodnight before you disappeared inside your building. 

The cups of coffee you had nervously bought the very next morning were quite the task to balance in your hands. It would have been strange if you didn’t buy one for all of your coworkers, even though the brew truthfully had ulterior motives. 

It wasn’t just the regular kind and thoughtful round of coffee to start the day, but in truth was a thanks for the bang last night, oh, and by the way I am head over heels in love with you, I know I was too scared to tell you last night, but I’m terrified of fucking this up kind of coffee. 

It was a lot of pressure to put on a simple cup of coffee, you recognised that, but what else were you to do? 

Though when you managed to push open to door to the office without dropping or spilling any of the balanced paper mugs, Foggy was the first one to spot you.

“Oh, you bought coffee?” he grabbed one out of your arms, “thanks!” before he called over his shoulder, his voice flooding into the room to the left, “hey Matt! Y/n got a round of coffee!” 

It hadn’t been the suave delivery you’d hoped for, having Foggy force the mood in a purely platonic and professional direction as Matt appeared and casually seized the cup his friend caught from you and extended to him, instead of the fantasy that had tickled your mind all morning of effortlessly slipping into his office and sliding it across his desk with some clever line you hadn’t been able to come up with yet.  

Though Matthew still smiled and said as he raised the cup up to his lips, “thank you, Y/n,” and the mirroring echo of the words he’d made you repeat last night so many times that it lost all its meaning, caused your cheeks to heat up. 

“Uhh,” you blinked back at him, trying to shake the memory off of you, “y-you’re welcome…”

However, before you could part your lips, ask your boss for a private moment and finally make your move, Foggy opened his mouth once more and spoke. 

“Hey, remember how I put out feelers to Karen?” he began to saunter into the conference room.

As Matt began to follow his voice, you too shadowed them, all the while trying your best to keep the butterflies on your belly at bay as you returned to the scene of the crime, most of the papers on the table still in a mess from how little the pair of you had bothered to clean up afterwards. 

“Yeah,” Matt tilted his head, “she got anything?”

“Yup,” Foggy took a sip of coffee, “called me this morning and said she’d pop by later with the stuff she–, hey,” his sentence then took a sharp turn as his gaze found something on the floor that puzzled him enough for his brows to crinkle up. Bending down, he picked up a silky string of fabric and wrapped it around his fingers, “Matt, did you forget your tie here?”

“Uh, what?” the man beside you stiffened up slightly. 

“Your tie, this looks like the one you wore yesterday.”

“Oh, uhm, yeah,” he coughed, fidgeting lightly with the to-go cup in his grasp, “it just bothered me last night, so took it off, must have forgotten to put it in my bag.”

As Foggy’s eyes scanned Matt’s reaction and too let his gaze wash over your flustered form and spot how the truth virtually poured out of your pores from the way your eyes grew, he simply hummed, “…uh-huh…” not believing his pal for a second. 

Sucking in a breath, Matt tried to extend his hand and asked, “can I have it back?” though his forced casual tone was utterly unconvincing. 

“Oh my god…” Foggy sighed before tossing the tie in his friend’s face, “you have a problem, man.” 

To your surprise, the man beside you caught it, though you were still just one step too far behind him to catch the way a smug smirk tugged at his lips, “what?” as he couldn’t for the life of him hide the pride of the discovery is friend had surely made countless of times throughout their friendship. 

“I leave you two alone for one night, one night!”

“…and to Matt for giving the closing argument of a lifetime and winning us this case!” Foggy raised his drink to the centre of where he, his colleagues and Karen sat around one of the small tables at Josie’s. 

“Oh, come on,” the dark-haired man beside you humbly tilted his head, “you were on fire as well–”

“Matt,” his friend cut him off by briefly planting his palm on his shoulder, “just shut up and take the compliment,” before he tilted his beer bottle back up and roared, “cheers!” 

“Cheers!” Karen, to the left of you, sang before the rest of you echoed, clinking all of your glasses together. 

“Thank you,” Matt gave in and smiled as everyone took a sip, “I couldn’t have done it without you all,” before he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “especially you…”

The sound of his low voice directly in your ear was enough to turn your knees into jelly, but as your eyes fluttered up to gaze at him, the personal space he had now eliminated betwixt you two caused you to positively melt. 

As you breathed out an audible smile, his lips stayed close as his breath once again tickled the shell of your ear, “so now that the trial’s done, I was wondering,” he uttered slowly, making you cling onto each and every syllable that flowed from his lips, “would you let me take you out on a real date?”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[totallynotashieldagent]

full of catholic guilt matt murdock is just SO chef's kiss tho

sex would be pleasure and punishment all wrapped into one

like, he would need- he'd beg, plead, want to be tied up, overstimulated because he doesn't think he deserves anything better than this- this extreme pleasure accompanied with this extreme sensitivity of pain and sharpness of your foot on his balls as his hands are tied to his thighs, and his ankles are tied to the legs of the sofa or a chair or whatever- and he's there, exposed- and you put earplugs in his ears to dampen his senses but he can taste it

he can taste the salt of his own skin, the sex in the air-

and your hands are working him still, his cum is half dry, half lubing him up more, and making him go again and again and again-

he's begging, moaning, whimpering-

and he's cum so many times now that his cock is just twitching and swollen but nothing's coming out anymore

or

there would be days when he's overtaken by control. he's a predator and you have better said your prayers that day because one miscalculation, one wrong word and the way his hand would land on your ass would leave a mark for days-

he'd hold your legs open by the ankles, rut into your tight cunt without prep and cum until you're a sobbing mess and keep going until you're begging him to let you go because you can taste his release in the back of your throat now -

your pussy's already gone numb so there's no use in fighting over that, honestly

but it's the after

the after is when the real catholic guilt hits

when all the pleasure he's felt, feels so completely disgusting and he's full of self-loathing to have enjoyed any of it at all

to have cum so much that he's spent-

to have made you cum at all that you're boneless and drooling and your body is marked and bruised in prints of his hand on your ass

he'd beg for forgiveness as if you were his alter and church, he'd stay on his knees for you, whispering apologies for going too far, for not making love, for fucking too hard, for even daring to touch you in such an obscene way-

he would stay on his knees and you'd run your fingers through his hair, repeating it was fine, it's okay, it hurt but you never said the safeword anyway so he shouldn't feel bad about it

but he can't- he can't stop the guilt

he can't stop throwing himself into being Daredevil and getting himself hit harder and punished more but then that's how the cycle repeats

he gets hurt and you take care of him, and the only way he wants to be taken care of is through pleasure anyway-

Drabble Master List.

[chvoswxtch]

Oooh, can I ask for a romcom about Matt and Franks dynamic when readers not around? Like maybe when they’re out on patrol, or just in each others vicinity? Romantic or platonic, or both!

i'm always happy to talk about our favorite dumbass murder boyfriends <3 also bc you sent in a request about the trilogy, i'm leaning towards romantic with this one

headcannon below the cut

the birdcage starring matt murdock & frank castle

matt and frank are basically an old married couple and they always have been. they're two sides of the same coin, and they're more alike than either one of them want to admit, which is why they butt heads constantly, to your amusement and your annoyance

they're always bickering about something. it doesn't matter how big or small it is. a simple disagreement can turn into a full blown argument (which is usually matt's fault, he's an onery lil shit and a professional arguer). they're both moody, but frank is more of a quiet brooder, whereas when matt is in a bad mood it becomes everyone else's problem

the only thing that can shut down an argument between them is you. their petty bickering can be amusing, but after awhile it gets old, and when they really start to argue, it grates on your own nerves. the second you snap at them and retreat to the bedroom or leave the apartment entirely, they seem to pull their heads out of their asses, and then they focus their collective effort on how to make it up to you. the one thing they agree on is you and how important you are to them

neither one of them is great with words and expressing their feelings, but they show their affection towards you and each other through actions

frank is organized, and matt is a chaotic mess. so frank does little things to keep matt organized, bc he truly does care, but also for his own sanity. he adds the braille labels to all of matt's jars in the kitchen, makes sure there's actually food in the kitchen, he adds the braille labels to his suits, he buys a similar scent of body wash and shampoo so matt doesn't get overwhelmed with too many smells. when he gets tired of matt leaving his court documents all over the place he builds him a shelf to keep it all in one place. he keeps everything clean and he fixes anything that breaks

frank also makes sure matt's ass is up every morning (by any means necessary) so he's not late for work, or he forces him to stay home if he's in rough shape after a bad night

matt also does little things for frank, but he also gets him to talk. when he stitches frank up when he gets injured, sometimes he tells him stories about how he used to stitch up his dad after bad boxing matches. he creates that space for frank to talk about his own grief, helps him keep his family alive in his memory. he also encourages frank to keep going to curtis' support group for veterans, bc there's just certain things you and matt will never be able to understand about frank

matt picks up takeout on his way home from the office from the pizza place he knows frank loves. he tells frank which coffee beans are the freshest at the grocery store. he's not a dog person, but he allowed frank to bring one home from the shelter bc he knows frank loves dogs and they can provide emotional support

one of their favorite things to do together is cook. frank is a great chef, and matt knows which ingredients are the freshest, and when something is perfectly done. matt knows how to make basic dishes, but frank teaches him how to make his own favorite foods, and even some of maria's recipes

frank is a reader, and matt finds his voice soothing. on the days where he's feeling overstimulated, he likes to lay on the couch with frank while he reads to him. it helps calm matt down, helps his body and his mind relax. matt is the more physically affectionate between the two of them, he's more tactile due to his loss of sight, so a lot of times he ends up holding frank's hand while he's reading to him, or he'll lay with his head in his lap

as much as they bicker and argue, they do care about each other. sometimes they're so focused on you, that they almost forget that, until it's just the two of them left alone together

there was a week you were gone with a business trip, and it was just the two of them alone. eating meals together, sleeping in the same bed, they even went out to josie's together without you for the first time. it was like an awkward first date. it was also the first time they slept together without you. when you'd come home from your trip, you'd expected to come back to the aftermath of world war three, but to your surprise, they'd not only survived each other's company, they'd enjoyed it (and matt being the teasing fucker he is definitely filled you in on everything you missed, everything)

they're enemies to lovers that are still kinda enemies, bc sometimes they can't fucking stand each other, but they're still in love and they're perfect boyfriends not just to you but also to each other even if they don't wanna admit it and I just wanna go on record and say I would sell every bone and organ in my body to be in this throuple

[foggyinphx]

Jumble of thoughts, it's all coming together!

Welcome back Dex! You and your blue bees (the beeeeez) instantly made this way more fun! I loved the scene with Matt, I loved his escape, and I loved the blue lighting motif they've given him.

The parallel convos of Matt & Heather disagreeing about vigilantes and Wilson & Vanessa reconnecting over murder was quite good.

Kirsten did the unthinkable and touched Matt's glasses! A very interesting violation of boundaries, but maybe it signals how she will NOT let Matt hide the way he does from everyone else. She also clocked his black eye. She's gonna know the DD secret whether Matt wants her to or not. She also read him a bit of the riot act. Which like, fair. Yeah the client sucks, but he's being a terrible partner and not supporting her at all.

The return of Josie was a surprising delight and I friggen knew that bottle was coming back, I knew it! Interesting to know that Foggy's death was investigated, but it sounds like the true motive was never established. It's also very nice Josie went to the funeral. I just that funeral was the best attended funeral in the kitchen 🥲. (And for anyone exceptionally worried, Foggy had a funeral in the comic too! So it's not proof positive of death!)

The whole Matt and Dex scene was delicious. Matt was being the absolute worst version of himself and it led directly to Dex escaping. See why we don't fly off the handle, Mr. Murdock? Also, Matt doing to Dex what Fisk did to him in season 2. Chef's kiss.

Powell remains the absolute WORST.

BB is a vigilante journalist! Writing under a false identity to expose the truth. She knows way more than she pretends she does. And I guess now we know why she's friends with Daniel. He's just too foolish to see that he's being used.

Vanessa. VANESSA. What did you do and why did you do it? I think she hired Dex through a proxy (maybe Buck?) and I think she was behind him getting moved to gen pop. Dex said "I'm not supposed to be here" and was waiting for appeal. He thought he was safe. Getting moved to gen pop to kill him was a double cross, which Dex took very personally. He was targeting Fisk because Matt put the idea in his head on whose fault this was.

Somebody go find Dumb Benny, cause he's the missing link in all this!

Oh yeah, and Matt got shot. But it was only in the shoulder, he'll be fine. I can't believe he took a bullet for Fisk. What a world we live in, lol.

Overall, leaps and bounds better than 7! 9 is gonna be nuts!