#dark!matt murdock smut

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Angel of Small Death

Part 8 of my Halloween mini series!

Dark! Frank Castle, Dark Priest! Billy Russo, Dark Priest! Matt Murdock.

Warnings: Blasphemy, death, guilt, corruption, threesome, oral (f/m) smut.

A/N: It's only gonna get worse

Father Heath is found dead the next morning.

His body, in such a state of decomposition that the doctor had dissuaded you from viewing it.

You were glad for it, you didn’t think you could look upon another dead body, ever since you’d been forced to assist with the ones that perished in the mysterious plague, the very idea of a corpse made you ill.

Father Russo is kind enough to visit you, in your office after the body has been found. His arms are tight around your body, quiet whispers, promises, that everything would be well.

You’re distressed, crying into his shoulder, he looks pained to see you this way, but all you feel is the helplessness you experienced not too long ago.

It had apparently been an accident, in the pouring rain, Father Heath had slipped, and fell head first from one of the outlying granges, used to keep some of the grains safe and dry in the wet season.

It comforts you, that his death was most likely quick. Billy reassures you that he most likely felt absolutely no pain in his last moments.

You hold Vigil that evening in the church. It’s the first time in a while that the rain doesn’t fall, and in the morning, funeral mass is held.

You sit among your sisters, listening to them sniffle, watching as Matt delivers the final sermon.

His voice is calm, soothing, you close your eyes and simply listen to him. It helps a lot, and when he’s done, you follow behind as they take the coffin to its final resting place in the cemetery.

You sit in the bathing pool for hours after, examining the sprigs of floating lavender that pass you by, thinking about the inevitability of death, and the ways that your actions hold the shape of your afterlife.

.

.

.

“Bless me Father, for my sins.” You murmur, lifting your rosary, to kiss the crucifix.

“Speak your burdens, and they shall be heard.” A familiar voice responds, differently cadenced than Matt’s.

“It has been one week since my last confession, and though I have atoned for my sins, I still feel the weight of them.”

“It is normal to feel this way. Tell me what troubles you.”

Billy.

You swallow.

“I have allowed myself to sin carnally, and…I find that my body yearns for it.”

He makes a low hum of contemplation from the other side of the wall. You grip your skirts, trying to ignore the way he makes you feel.

“What do you yearn for?” He asks.

“Touch, Father, I yearn to be touched.”

You hear rustling from the other side of the wall.

“By yourself?”

“N-no- by… others.”

“Speak their names, give them power.”

You feel your heart kick in surprise at his debauched words.

“Father Murdock, Father Russo…” You swallow, “Mister Castle.”

“And what would you have them do to you?” Father Russo asks next.

“Is… discussing this appropriate?”

“Of course… How can I help you if I do not know the extent of your fantasies?”

You pause for a second, deep in thought.

“Their hands, their mouths, I can’t stop thinking about how they would feel on my skin, pressed against my body.”

“Good. Tell me where.”

“Where?” You stutter out.

“Don’t be shy, tell me what you think about.”

There are so many things, you don’t know where to begin.

“I want to kiss them, feel their lips on mine, move between them. I want bruising, punishing kisses, and soft, sweet kisses and hungry, devouring ones too.”

“All of them? At once?”

You let out a shaky breath.

“Yes,” You almost moan, pulling your skirts up, desperate to relieve some of the ache in your body brought upon by speaking about this topic.

“I want them to lie with me, take care of me, touch each part of me.”

On the other side of the wooden wall, you hear a slow groan.

Did he like your words too? Did he agree with them? Did he want to see your fantasies fulfilled?

“I need you to touch yourself now,” Billy utters on a pained breath, “Reach down, and ease that feeling inside of you.”

You don’t need any more persuasion, reaching down, cupping your heated flesh, fingers delving right to your sticky center.

You let out a soft gasp, your head thuds against the wood as it falls back.

“That’s it, just like that.” Billy guides.

You bite down on your bottom lip, sighing, thinking about the things you might let them do if they pleased, anything to feel that release.

“Father Russo.” You gasp out, shaking your head, needing more than your fingers could give.

He groans.

You hear the distinct sound of hinges squeaking as a door opens, and then movement, before a little knock on your side of the confessional.

Your lips part in surprise, you right yourself hastily, leaning forward, you unlatch the door to find Billy looking down at you with hungry eyes.

He steps in, closing the door behind him, before moving to stand in front of you.

What if someone had seen him? You don't get the chance to say anything before he lowers himself to his knees in front of you.

“You make me, insatiable, little lamb, and I will not be denied any longer.”

His eyes on yours, he reaches under your skirts, warm hands gliding along your legs gently, working their way up… up… until his fingers curl on the edges of your undergarment. 

“I'll make you feel good.” He promises, when he notices your hesitation, and you swallow, finding the words to protest.

“We shouldn’t.” You try softly, wondering why you picked now to suddenly defy him.

The corner of his mouth tilts up.

“Don't you trust me?” Billy asks softly.

You swallow, nodding automatically. Despite being apart for years, you knew that he was always someone you could depend on. There had never been a moment where you wondered if he was capable of leading you astray, and you weren't about to start now.

He tugs your undergarment down your legs, and you stiffen when he pushes your legs apart to settle between them.

He makes a soft hum of appreciation, before leaning in to kiss your thighs.

The sensation is so soft, so careful, that you feel your own fragility, tipping your head back, letting out a little gasp as his mouth pays you careful attention.

Is this what Eve felt? When she sinned for the very first time? How euphoric, how worshipped her experience might have been and you think you understand her just a little bit more.

When his tongue presses between your thighs, you have that aching sensation of familiarity, mixed with the sweet burning of ecstasy in your head.

You gasp, saying his name as pleasure rolls over you, the filthy sound of his tongue exploring you reaching your ears.

When his movement increases, you feel your body fight to succumb, muscles going pliant, thighs shaking as they try to comprehend the pleasure.

The squeaking sound of the confessional door opening fills your ears, your eyes open in panic.

It's not your side- it must be the other, you hear dull shuffling, before someone softly clears their throat.

You glance down at Billy between your thighs for help but he seems absolutely unbothered by the new developments.

Through the crisscrossed slats in the wood, you catch sight of red rimmed spectacles.

“Speak when you are ready.” Matthew’s voice says calmly on the other side.

You feel Billy’s tongue glide over your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Bless me… Father, f-for my sins.”

You hear him let out a deep chuckle.

“Speak your sins, little one.”

Speak? You were supposed to speak? 

“It's been a few days since my last confession, and I find myself-ah- plagued with desire.”

Billy huffs in amusement, his breath tickling your center.

“In what way has this desire manifested?”

“Ph- physically- my body aches for release like never before.” Your eyes roll back into your head for a moment as Billy’s lips close around your bud.

“You poor thing,” Matthew hums, his voice sweetly sympathetic, you could only wonder if he had any inclination that on the other side of the wall you had another priest feasting hungrily between your thighs.

“Have you tried to resist temptation? To pray for strength in overcoming these carnal urges?”

“Yes I’ve tried,” You whisper hoarsely, “But they won’t go away, they won’t accept defeat.”

“I understand, little one. These desires are persistent, aren’t they? And yet, perhaps there is a freedom to surrendering to one’s true nature, embracing the passions that burn within us, rather than denying them.”

You find yourself nodding along helplessly while Billy licks you eagerly.

“Perhaps it is time to confront these feelings head-on. To acknowledge the fire that rages inside you and seek a way to quench its thirst.”

“Please, Father Murdock,” You gasp, saying his name, feeling Billy’s hands tighten on your thighs, “Guide me.” You finish.

Matthew’s fingers push through the slats of wood, and with one great tug, the small crisscrossed panel comes free, leaving an open square gap in its place.

Billy pauses the movements of his tongue between your thighs to lift his head. You stare in amazement at the gap, knowing that it shouldn’t have been that easy to remove.

“F-Father Murdock?” You ask softly.

“Kneel, little one.” He answers without explanation.

You glance down at Billy in confusion, watching a devious and seductive grin grow on his face. He raises a hand, and presses a finger to his lips, an indication for you to not say anything to give away Billy’s presence.

Billy pulls away, and settles himself on the floor  facing upwards, gripping your leg and tugging you off the little wooden bench seat, tugging at you until your knees are on either side of his face, your body directly in front of the wooden gap, facing Matt.

You don’t have a moment to ponder on what exactly Billy hopes to achieve with you almost seated on his face- when Father Murdock’s straining member appears in front of you.

Your mouth drops open in surprise- never having seen one so… prominent. It’s large in every conceivable way, and you’re not entirely sure what he expects you to do with it.

The tip of it is a flushed pink, beaded with a clear substance, and you stiffen in fear, feeling Billy’s hands roam your thighs in an attempt to soothe you.

“Matthew?” You ask again, hoping for some guidance.

“Open wide, little one. Worship your priest as only a devoted acolyte can.”

You exhale a breath of anxiety, leaning in, your mouth wraps around the very tip of him.

He groans softly, leaning in till his hips are flushed to the open gap. You tilt backwards in response, lest you take a significant portion of his length into your mouth before you’re ready.

You’re unsure of how to move, but it’s as if your body knows, the instinct hidden deep within you, only coming forth when needed. Slowly, you begin to move your head back and forth, taking him into your mouth measuredly.

“That’s it,” Matt hums, “Don’t be afraid, embrace the pleasure.”

Your mouth wrapped around him, you moan in surprise when you feel Billy pull your hips onto his face, his tongue finding that aching spot inside of you once more.

It’s sin, it has to be. This was the pleasures of the flesh that you’d been warned about from an early age. The fear of enjoyment that the matrons had tried to beat into you, falling apart with just the touch of Billy’s tongue and a mouthful of Matthew’s swollen erection.

“You love this, don’t you, little one? You crave the taste of my divine body.”

You moan in agreement, taking him deeper, hearing him stutter out a breath in response.

Billy’s tongue is equally wicked, delving into your deepest parts, flicking rapidly along your swollen bundle of nerves, making you more desperate to please.

You choke on Matthew’s erection, taking it too deeply in an impassioned moment, hearing the man before you groan especially loud.

You can barely think, squeezing your eyes shut, rocking your hips onto Billy’s tongue as your body burns, begging for a release that promises incoherence.

You work your mouth to the pace of Billy’s tongue, your jaw aching at Matthew’s size, your body tingles, nipples pebbled and rubbing against your underclothing, desperate to be free.

You moan around his erection, body shaking, the pleasure Billy gives you is so much more than you've ever experienced.

You squeeze your eyes shut, whines muffled by Matthew, and you take him in deeply as you feel your body reach its peak.

You tremble, rubbing yourself desperately onto Billy’s tongue as rapture, unlike anything you've ever experienced, fills you. From your aching center, all the way up your spine, filling your head with hazy thoughts of submission and obedience.

In the midst of it, you hear Matthew groan, before he spills into your mouth. 

You swallow without thinking, some of it slipping from the corner of your mouth as he draws away with haste, concealing himself before replacing the wooden panel that he'd ripped off.

You pant, leaning back, pulling your body off of Billy’s mouth to settle on the floor beside him. He lets out a soft chuckle, sitting up, your lower halves pressed together in the tight space.

He licks at his lips, you watch, transfixed, wiping his mouth to rid himself of any evidence of debauchery.

His eyes filled with mirth as they study you. He reaches out, and uses a thumb to swipe at Matthew’s release on your face, guiding it into your mouth.

“What I wouldn't give to be able to take you right now.” He murmurs, deep in thought.

“What's stopping you?” You ask curiously, not totally sure if you were ready for that.

He shakes his head sadly, pulling you against him, cradling your body in the small space.

“It's not time.” He answers cryptically, holding you close in these moments as your bodies come to terms with the sins you've committed.

.

.

.

[bunmurdock]

“oh, i know, baby. just a little longer—for me.”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

hey, hey, hey! it is february and i'm in the mood to do another poll fic. this time around, i'm thinking of playing around with a fairytale... but making it spooky and very slutty.... there will be multiple rounds of voting. this is the first round.

if you have any ideas (plot, trope, kink, thots, etc.), then please send them my way and i’ll include them in the following polls! 

if you wanna get notified for the next poll, then click here

[siampie]

Chapter List for The Devil's Bargain

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains smut, angst, fluff, comfort, hurt, canonical violence, plot heavy, slow burn

A/N: The events of this series are taking place post season 1 and before season 2. Matt is still sporting the black suit. Cause you know he’s more intimidating and is also easily more injured in it. Also, this story is inspired by Ashevillain and you can find her story on AO3: What They Wouldn’t Do. You should send her some love; her story is just epic and amazing.

As the loyal secretary to the infamous Wilson Fisk, you worked under the supervision of James Wesley. Under the guise of loyalty, you were paying off debts that weren’t your own. Protecting your family from Fisk’s clutches. In the aftermath of his arrest, and the shocking death of James Wesley, you cling to the hope of reclaiming your freedom and independence. However, your aspirations are quickly dashed when Harry Leblanc, the ambitious new CEO of Fisk Industries, along with his assistant, Octavia Turpin, tighten their grip on your life. They impose increasingly dangerous demands upon you. You find yourself trapped in a web of manipulation and control, facing tasks you could never fathom. As the pressure mounts and your situation grows increasingly perilous, you realize that escaping their clutches is not just a desire but a necessity. Desperate, you turn to the vigilante; Daredevil for help. The very man that has put your former boss into prison. What begins as a reluctant partnership soon evolves into an unexpected alliance, as you both navigate the dangerous intersections of power, morality, and survival. Together, you plot a way to sever the ties that bind you to Leblanc and Turpin. As trust is tested and secrets unravel, this unexpected alliance may just lead to your undoing—or a chance at redemption.  

List of Chapters

Chapter 1: The Illusion of Freedom (Coming Soon)

Chapter 2: A Brush with the Devil

Chapter 3: Pushed to the Brink

Chapter 4: The Devil's Playground

[farfromstrange]

Carpe Noctem [PREVIEW]

Main Masterlist

PREVIEW.

Pairing: Vampire!Matt Murdock x F!Nun!Reader

Warnings: (additional tags to be added/changed) Dead Dove Do Not Eat, religious imagery & symbolism, vampirism, Dark!Matt, blood consumption, corruption kink, SMUT (18+), pain kink, blood play, ANGST, canon typical violence, physical assault, allusions to sexual assault, hunter and prey vibes, allusions to stalking (possibly full-on), scent kink, marking, blasphemy, no happy ending

Summary: Over the past centuries, nothing could have stopped Matt Murdock from wanting, craving, everything, even what he could not have; money, power, and sex, among other more materialistic things, but nothing has him in quite a chokehold like the insatiable hunger for blood he was cursed with the night he died. Nothing could have stopped him from getting what he wants until one day in March, you enter his life.

Matt has stolen, beaten and killed without care, but corrupting a child of God is a line he dares not cross. You, a nun. It’s unthinkable. The part of him that longs for the life he was torn out of—the boy still riding the waves of Catholicism, that Matt Murdock—would rather see him impaled on a wooden stake than allow him to take your blood. Your blood, your innocence, and all that you are; the aroma of rosemary and sanctity that surrounds you is a siren’s call that draws him inevitably closer. The same walls of Clinton Church that house you would incinerate him, and he still wants you. He wants you, but he can’t have you.

Devoting yourself to the church saved you from the abyss, but it may also lead to your eternal corruption at the hands of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Matt Murdock. A vampire. Soon, you find yourself not only on the verge of losing your innocence to this angel of the night but your life, too, and your world drastically changes for what you realize might be worse than death itself.

(18+ MINORS DNI!)

A/n: I’m back, back, BACK again! Vampire!Matt brainrot is real, and this idea was so dark in my head and kind of ironic, really, I had to put it out there for you. I will be doing my research on Catholicism religiously (pun intended) to make this as accurate as possible, but it’s still an alternate universe and I like making up my own rules. Everything I write is my personal playground, and I invite you to join me for this steamy piece of angst. So far, this is only a concept, but I will get to writing it as soon as I can! The idea is there, and I’ve got some things planned out already. So, if you’re curious, do stick around!

AESTHETIC.

Matt.

You.

RELEASE DATE: TBD!

(If you want to be tagged to know when I release it, as always, feel free to let me know. I don’t bite. Well, only sometimes.)

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

blank space - m. murdock

a/n: uhm... this one is dedicated to my friend arin who doesn't like daredevil but is encouraging me to be more unhinged. i hope you guys enjoy because i had a blast writing this. possible part two in the works, please like and reblog with comments and feedback <3 warnings: i cannot emphasize this enough-- DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT there is so little comfort to all of this hurt. matt is abusive and mean and reader is tortured and quiet and readers dad is an addict and a gambler and also stabbing, cursing, talking about fucking, sub/dom dynamics, nicknames, fem reader, lmk if i missed any! word count: 3.5k summary: Your dad makes your life horrible. Matt can make it worse. paring: dark!matt murdock x reader now playing: blank space (taylor's version) - taylor swift "so it's gonna be forever/or it's gonna go down in flames?/you can tell me when it's over/if the high was worth the pain"

You never meant to get involved with him.

Really, it wasn’t anything you did.

 As usual, it came back around to your father, who had a bad gambling problem, as well as a substance issue, and would often be tempted to gamble big prizes for things like coke or heroin. He would bet money, college funds, heirlooms, your house.

But of course, he couldn’t pay these debts.

Your mom had been gone for quite some time, and you suspect this is where your fathers’ addictions stem from. But you’re trying to just make your way through your adult life. You had gone to a local college, unable to afford much else. Now, you worked in a dingy little office where they constantly abused your work ethic.

Between your grief, his constant betting on your lively hood, and your asshole boss, you felt your bones grow tired. Not the sort of tired that could be fixed by a good night’s sleep. The sort of tired that could be fixed by a new life, not that you had the means for that.

You think your mother would haunt you for the rest of your days if you abandoned your dad.

Friday night came, and you were ready to go home to the small apartment you shared with your father, and drink some wine, and get a nice sleep.

You had been told by your boss that you needed to stay late to translate paper files to the digital system. No, you would not be getting paid overtime.

It was dark by the time you finally left, your feet aching in your heels as you made your way through Hell’s Kitchen, wanting to get home so as not to start crying on the streets of New York.

You don’t make it home.

As you turn the corner by your block, you notice a van creeping up on you. How long had it been following you? If you weren’t so tired, maybe you would know.

But the van pulled up next to you, and you did the only thing you could in this situation. You started to run.

Only, you made it about ten feet before you twisted your ankle with these stupid fucking heels. As you fall, you let out a cry of pain, and before you can think, two men are outside the van. They grab you by the arms and pull you into the van, the whole time you struggle.

Someone puts a black hood over your head and wraps duct tape around your hands. Your ankle is fucking aching.

You aren’t sure how long you drive for, but someone is then pulling you out of the van and drags you along. They give you an opportunity to walk but your ankle hurts to the point where you can’t walk.

They drag you again, and your foot is dragging, and holy shit, you can’t believe that your biggest concern while being kidnapped is how much your ankle hurts.

Eventually, hood on your head still, you are sat in a chair. Your hands are untied, and you want to jump up and fight, but you know your ankle won’t help you here.

They quickly tie your hands back to the chair, with rope this time. Whoever ‘they’ are.

You’re starting to have trouble breathing, because you’re realizing what sort of situation, you’re in right now.

You’ve been kidnapped for something; you have to assume in some way that it’s to get back at your father.

The hood is pulled off your head, and your eyes take a moment to adjust.

The room you’re in is dark, dingy. You know there’s two people behind you, big enough to carry you. You can hear water outside the room, assuming you’re in an abandoned office by the docks. Then, there’s three people in front of you.

One is a man, with long blond hair. He wears a nice suit and is just standing in front of the door. Another is a woman, with even longer blond hair and she also dons rather luxurious apparel. Your dirty work clothes make you look meager next to her.

The last is a man with dark hair. He wears a simple, rather expensive suit, and red glasses.

If you weren’t on the verge of a meltdown, you’d probably realize how hot he is.

Oh, he also holds a knife.

The blond man talks first.

“So. Do you want to start, or should we?”

“What?” Your ankle throbs.

“I guess we should, then.” He hums. “Do you have five grand worth of heroin on you, dear?”

You could throw up.

“I—”

“No, of course you don’t. You and your boyfriend probably used it all.”

What is he talking about? Now, on top of being in pain and panicked, you’re confused.

“The man you live with?” The woman finally speaks. “I assume you two used all the heroin he stole.”

You realize she means your father. You realize that your father stole five grand worth of heroin. What else did he steal?

“What else does he owe?”

“No, darling,” she scoffs, “We ask, you answer.”

“I don’t do heroin.”

“So, how do you know he owes us more?”

“Took a wild fucking guess.” You spit. “Figured you wouldn’t kidnap someone over five grand, figure money is no object.”

The man with the knife steps out of the shadows. Your heartbeat races, and he chuckles. He crouches in front of you.

“You’re a spitfire. I like that. In fact, I love that in a woman, don’t I, Foggy?” He turns his head back slightly.

Foggy answers.

“That you do, man.”

His head turns back to you. But you get the impression by his glasses that he can’t see. So how is he looking right at you?

“If you give us some sort of sass like that again, I’ll stab you and make sure you feel every second of pain.” You whimper, and he laughs again. “Not so cocky anymore, are we, sweetheart?” He stands and goes behind you, his arms landing on the outside of your own, caging you in. He leans down and whispers in your hear, “Is this.. turning you on, sweetheart?”

You don’t answer.

“Answer me.”

“No.”

“Liar.” He whispers back, the knife gracing over your ear. He cuts your ear just enough to make it bleed, and tears slip down your face. He makes his way back to the front of you and crouches again. “I’ll ask you again. How do you know he owes me more?”

“I figured he would, when gamblers start, they don’t stop.”

“Not only did you lie to me again, you also just gave yourself away. Lie to me again and I hurt you worse.”

Your foot that isn’t hurt goes up and kicks him in the face. At least it tries, because his reaction is too quick, and he grabs your ankle.

“Bad, bad girl.” He tuts. He lets go of your leg and picks up your other leg, the one with the bruising, swollen ankle. You start to shake. His hand squeezes the wound and when you yell in pain, he just coos at you. “Aw, does that hurt, sweetheart?”

You’re busy crying.

“Answer me!” He demands. It shakes you to your core. You realize you do not know who you’re dealing with, and you’re even angrier at your father for jeopardizing you like this.

“Yes!” You sob, and this seems to satisfy him. He takes the knife in his other hand and slowly cuts open your stocking, loving the way you’re shaking with fear.

 “Keep moving and you’ll cut yourself.”

You try to calm yourself down, on the verge of a panic attack. The knife grazes your leg, and he starts to focus in on your thigh, twisting the knife around your skin.

“How do you know him?” he asks. And you aren’t sure why you try it. You don’t know how he knows when you lie.

“I’ll find a way to pay you back, just let me go, I promise, I’ll tell you where he is, just—”

Then you feel it.

The knife pierces your thigh and is lodged into your leg. You scream in pain, gripping the arms of the chair. Fuck, it hurts. Your vision blurs, and you’re unsure whether it’s from pain or from your tears.

 He stands up in front of you, ignoring the stares from Karen and Foggy. He knows he might have gone a step too far for someone he’s pretty sure is innocent in all this. But he can’t help himself. He likes hearing you wither in pain, and he likes being the person administering the pain. He has all these things he’s in control of, but at this moment, no one else is in the room. It’s you and him, in a rather intimate moment.

He pats your chin, “C’mon, focus, right here, sweetheart. Tell me the truth and I make the pain go away.” He tells you, breaking through the wall of pain and fear that blocks your ability to think.

“He’s my father!” You finally cry out. It comes out as if you’re yelling in church, screaming to God a confession you can’t bear anymore. The only thing missing is your position on your knees, but being below this man like this is as close to an altar as you can see yourself being. “I know he has a gambling problem, and I know he has a drug problem but that’s it! I don’t know anything else, I just lost the parent roulette, okay?!” Your words come gasped out, in between sobs and when you’re not too distracted with your pain.

He seems to be satisfied with this. He gets back down, closer to the ground. Now he’s the one at the altar, but the devil has no place in a church, only between your thighs. He tilts his head and kisses the inside of your thigh.

“See? Good girls get rewards.” Bad girls get stabbed. He stands up, and with him, he pulls at the knife. Blood gushes as you cry out in pain again, sure he'll leave you to bleed out, to be fed on by rats.

He drops the knife at your feet and adjusts his tie.

“What should we do with her, boss?”

“Go get her father.” He says, “But don’t let her go just yet. I’d like to keep her a while.” You think you’ll be sick. “Knock her out though, we don’t want her knowing where she is.” That’s the last thing before the butt of a gun meets your head.

It’s a nice relief from the pain.  

• • •

You wake up on a bed with silk sheets. It’s almost nice enough for you to forget about the whole situation. Maybe your whole life has been a dream, and really, you’re a rich housewife for a man who loves you deeply and your mom is still alive.

But then you sit up, and your stockings are ripped, and your heels are gone.

A brace wraps around your hurt ankle. A bandage wraps around your thigh. The pain isn’t there anymore, you’re not sure what drugs have been given to you.

The room is rather barren, you realize, with little to no works of art or even photos, and it’s rather dark. It’s also freezing cold, a central air system whirling around you. You wonder, if you’re a prisoner, then why put you in a room like this?

What is happening?

The door opens and immediately you went to defend yourself, though there were no weapons around you.

The man from the night before steps into the room, and he looks... casual. He wears dark jeans and a tee shirt, his glasses discarded. Bandages wrapped around his knuckles.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” You don’t respond, just stare at him. “I’m Matt.”

You stay quiet.

“You’re not being tortured anymore, honey. If you want, you can lie and be mean now, I don’t bite. Not anymore. Not unless you want me to.”

“I’m Matt.” You repeat, unable to believe it. “You stab me in the leg and kidnap me, and you go as casual as ‘I’m Matt’?” He grins.

“I told you; I love a woman with some fire.” You wonder how many times he’s used that line on people. “Telling them they’re beautiful just doesn’t hit the same way when you’re blind.” He says, going over to a door, and when he opens it, you realize it’s a closet.

“I want nothing to do with you.”

“No?” He turns to you, and smiles. He says your name. How does he know it? “You went to college for Marketing, cute. No siblings. Your mom died a few years ago, after a long battle with cancer. I’m sorry.” This sounds sincere. “You were engaged once, but he cheated on you and is now married to the other woman.” And he goes back to stinging. “Your father, I know all about him. David is an addict and a gambler. Now, addict, I could deal with. Addiction runs deep but it can be managed. It’s the gambling that frustrates me, and Sweetheart, If I’m frustrated, you must be riled up. He gambles everything, I should know. He gambles it to Foggy, who shares it with me.” He hums. He picks clothes out of the closet and heads back to you, “The pants are your size, but the shirt is mine.” He tells you, laying the clothes out in front of you. “Don’t worry about me watching, or anything.” It’s almost enough to make you smile.

You get changed, the challenge of slipping into the slightly lose jeans the hardest part. The bandage fits right in there, but even whatever pain meds have been given to you, aren’t enough.

“So, your father,” You groan, your face in your hands. You get it, your father is awful, and he hates him, but you know that your father is awful, and you know that you hate him. Why must he keep involving you? “I know, sweetheart, you’re in pain, and you hate him, but just stay with me on this.” he says, a cooing tone to his voice. You don’t know why, but you’re compelled to listen to him. “Your father forces you to live in this small apartment, because you’re the only one who works, and he always manages to find your money to gamble away. But it’s not just the money, it’s your electronics, your nice shoes, any pills you have in the house. And really, by doing all this, he is gambling you. Because not only is he risking not being able to pay his debts and someone taking you, but you’re tired. Aching for absolution that will never come. But the worst part is that even though all this stems from his grief around your mom, he gambled her wedding and engagement rings, the one you were always told you’d be proposed with.”

Tears well your eyes.

“Please, stop.”

He sits next to you on the bed, and you don’t have the energy to move away from him. In fact, you lean against him ever so slightly. He must know it too, you figure, since he can tell when you’re lying and when your heartbeat races. He’s warmer than you imagined. He’s a beacon of warmth in this cold, dim room.

He takes something out of his pocket, and then drops it into your hands. It’s a necklace, just a simple chain. Three things hang on it. A silver charm with an ‘M’ on it, and two rings. Your mom’s engagement ring, and her wedding band. You thought you’d never see it again, not after you came home and went to your jewelry box only to find out from your dad that he had lost it in a poker match a few weeks before.

You clutch the necklace in your hands.

“M for Matt?”

“Or Murdock, whatever you’d like.”

“You’re in charge, right? Just how in charge are you?”

“I run everything. There isn’t a corner of this city that I don’t have men in.” So, he’s the kingpin. The boss. Matt Murdock, a man feared by all, gentle to only you. Only for this moment.

“You’re not going to let me go, are you?”

“Bun, I was never going to let you go. But I don’t think you want to leave, either.”

You stay quiet. You can’t run. He made sure of that. Was he always going to stab you? Had he decided that from the moment he heard you whimper or was it your reaction to his pet names that did you in?

His fingers come up to graze your ear gently, but you flinch, since it’s where he had cut you.

“Bunnies are always so sensitive to the ears. Fragile. It’s not like you can hop away. Besides, you need time to heal, and I could take away all the pain. No more mean fathers, no more mean bosses, and no more mean thoughts.” He says gently. “I could put you back together.”

His voice is soft, as if his intentions are as well, but you’re sure he’ll destroy you. He will not put you back together, only break you down, collecting tiny pieces of you for his collection.

You consider it. You would never have to work again. You would never have to do anything again. You would never have to see your father again.

You turn your head, and nod.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll stay.” It wasn’t as if you had a choice in the matter. But nonetheless, He grins, and takes the necklace from you, only to wrap it around your neck, and clasp it on.

Despite the rings being something you had longed for, the ‘M’ alone weighs on you like a boulder.

He tilts your head gently, his fingers brushing against your chin, and you look away, ashamed of what you have done. He grabs your chin and keeps you looking at him. He leans forward and for a moment you just stay, feeling his hot breath against your lips. Tears escape from your eyes and run down your cheeks. He tuts softly and kisses your cheeks where the tears lie.

“Sh, Sh.. It’s okay, sweetheart,” he comforts. His other hand trails down to your thigh, where two of his fingers find the stab wound, and push into it. You whimper in pain, grasping his wrist. He sighs deeply, “Pretty noises.” He hums. “I would never deny you anything, bun. But if you deny me what I ask, it won’t end well for you. Understand?”

You nod, but when you aren’t verbal, he pushes down harder, the bandage and his fingers soaking with blood.

“Tell me. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand, Matt.” You manage to whimper out. He takes his fingers away and kisses your cheek.

“Good. Good job, honey.” He says softly, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and licking your blood off them. “Sweet, sweet girl.”

He leans forward and kisses you, and it’s full of a gentleness you weren’t sure he was capable of. You kiss back, afraid of what he’ll do if you deny him again.

He winds up kissing you to sleep, not mad at you for falling tired as you kiss. You lay with him in these silk sheets, freezing cold as you cuddle into him. He relishes being wanted. You accept that this is love. He feels you shivering and pulls you closer.

His hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tickling the bottom of your torso. You whine when he does this, burying your head in the crook of his neck. He laughs, kissing your head.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I’ll buy you blankets. Blankets, Diamonds, anything you want.” He tells you. You’re tired. You just want to nap. You want him to give you more of the drugs that dull the pain of your thigh, and you want to eat something homemade that you didn’t cook yourself.

You want to give in and remain thoughtless. Just be happy with him since no one is looking for you anyways.

But as you drift off to sleep, feeling his hands crawl along your skin, you begin to plan. You’ll let him think you’re in love with him. You’ll let him love you, fuck you, put you back together. You’ll be his bunny, his arm candy, his toy to dress up and do whatever the fuck he wants. You’ll let him think he owns you.

He’ll know that he does.

And you’ll become close to his friends too. You’ll dress in pretty dresses, and he’ll pretend he’s oblivious to how much everyone wants you.

 And then, when your wounds heal, you’ll run.

You’ll flee the country, you’ll change your name, dye your hair.

But you don’t yet realize how relentless he is. How deeply enamored of you he is. By how determined he is to have you.

Escaping the devil will not be as easy as you think it might, not when he can hear your heartbeat, not when he can smell you, not when he wants you.

And it doesn’t help when he gives you the honor of killing your father.

That’s when you start to fall in love with him.

[wannabevampire]

mmm chase fic with matt…

where he like hunts you through the city and then…fucks you when he finds you…yeah…

not actually hunting/tracking you, maybe a training exercise.

fear play, lowkey predator/prey, degradation & dumbification when he catches you, spit kink, semi-public sex, manhandling, dom!matt (lowkey mean!dom 😳), thigh riding/dry humping <3

xoxo,

allie 🕊️

[skyfallslayer]

The Darkness In Me - Masterlist

-Kingpin!Matt Murdock x Vigilante!Reader-

Main Masterlist

🖤 Summary: You were shocked to find out your childhood friend turned out to be the Kingpin of the underworld, but you had to put those thoughts aside to bring him down. You were Hell’s Kitchen vigilante, its protector. There's no valid reason not to stop him. However, when your hidden feelings for him start to surface once more, how will you be able to even think about bringing him down?

🖤 Pairings: Kingpin!Matt Murdock x Vigilante!Fem.Reader

🖤 Rating: Mature - Explicit

🖤 Warnings: At the beginning of each chapter (This series will contain 18+ themes)

🖤 Word Count: 25,966

🖤 Start Date: 8/8/23

🖤 End Date: N/A

🖤A/N: For those who aren't the biggest Marvel fans, I'm going to give you a little backstory behind this fic. This story is based on the "Spider-Gwen" comics where in this universe, Earth-65, Matt's origin story is very similar to the one where we already know, except Stick was killed by the Hand and takes Matt under their wing. He's turned into an assassin, but still goes to law school and eventually becomes Wilson Fisk's defense lawyer. Somewhere along the line, Matt cuts ties with Fisk and becomes Kingpin himself. This story was kind of a 'A-ha!' moment, and I decided it would be interesting to see this take on Matt with a reader insert. Don't know how many stories I'll do, but if you readers seemed to like it I'll keep going :) Enjoy!

-INDEX-

🖤 Story 1: The (Wo)Man Without Fear

Summary: After all these years away, you’re finally relocated back to Hell’s Kitchen, the place where you were born, a place filled with happy memories. However, the city is not what you remembered, and when your job as a detective is not enough to save it, you might have to become something more.

🖤 Story 2: Auld Acquaintances

Summary: Deciding you have no choice anymore, especially how your new partner scares you half to death, and the police in this city seemed not to care, your hundred percent committed to becoming a vigilante. But before you could do this, you run into an old childhood friend and his business partner. But unknowingly to you, he’s not the same little boy you remembered hanging out with. He’s… something else entirely.

🖤 Story 3: Kingpin & Daredevil

Summary: Your night trying to save a kid takes a dangerous turn. Now fighting to stay alive after a possible life threatening injury, you soon find yourself face-to-face with the man that runs this city’s underworld: The Kingpin. Aka… your childhood friend.

🖤 Story 4: Snapdragon (Coming Soon)

Summary: Your world is officially upside down. Your small taste of nostalgia has been ruined by what you discovered. Now, you’re out on investigations with Frank, and decide to dig deeper on other cases to take your mind off things. But of course, you always had the worst luck, and nothing can make your heart stop when you find the King of Darkness in your living room.

🖤 Story 5: A Euphoric Misery (Coming Soon)

-Taglist Is Open-

@utterlynuts @etanordoesbullsh1t @mattmurdocksstarlight @l3xiluve @lunaticgurly @margoo0 @swift-enchanted @athenniene

@up-in-space-reading @itwasthereaminuteago @lazyxsquirrel @yeonalie @scoliobean @kayden666

@nkmblackhyuuga @nk1023 @queenofnigthdarkness @badbishsblog @nornawerdandi @lov3vivian @mixedfandomthings @crispyfunstarlight

[mydevilofhellskitchen]

“fuck you matt, i swear” you seethed, turning on your heel to get your bag and walk away from him. “yeah you wish, honey. maybe that’s where all your angers coming from” he chuckled. something snapped in you “what is making your ego so big murdock?” you almost shouted “playing the blind card to get all the ladies is your only trick”. he scoffed “no, i think they were just attracted to me, and my academic abilities of course” his voice twinged with sarcasm, but you knew that he meant every word he said, you wished he could see you scornfully look at him. “academic abilities? you fucked your way to the top in law school” you muttered, finally bringing your voice down. before matt could get the last word in, you tried to walk off “you’re jealous because you weren’t one of them” matt smiled, “you think i want to fuck you? you’re delusional” you whipped, turning round for one last glance before you walked away.

matt and you were frenemies, with unspoken sexual tension. you, him and foggy all attended law school together. matt, top of his class, took every chance to ridicule you for your lawyer abilities. this often led to public disputes, shouting down the phone, and bickering like a married couple….

should i continue this?? thoughts

[v1rus-l0v3s-c0d]

I need headcanons for frank castle with an autistic s/o

Me and my friend need these headcanons please

Maybe also ones with Matt Murdock x autistic!reader

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Angel of Small Death

Part 7 in my Halloween mini series!

Dark Priest!Billy Russo, Dark Priest!Matt Murdock, Dark!Frank Castle

Warnings: Major blasphemy, dub-con, corruption, spanking (with a Bible), very very inappropriate use of said Bible, oral (f), edging, being held in place.

You check on Billy in the morning.

He has no recollection of ever being in the attic, no clue how he got there or even why. The last thing he remembered was going to sleep the night before.

He looks so concerned, so worried, that you don't bother to tell him about the things he did, the things you wanted him to do.

Your heart hurts a little at the thought, that all of his words had no meaning, that those hungry, ravenous kisses weren't meant for you.

It helps you grow more complacent with the idea of Father Murdock's punishment, that your loyalties were to God, and this monastery, and a few moments of weakness couldn't define you.

Your head is held high when you step into Matt's office at midday, prepared for whatever punishment he would dole out.

You would take it, and you would grow from it.

But you stiffen when you step in to find a person you’re not expecting.

“Mister Castle?” You ask curiously, your stomach going queasy with anxiety.

Frank turns, lifting his head from the bible in his hands, looking at you in an expectant and eager way that has you second guessing the strength of your resolve.

“Hey sweetheart,” He murmurs, snapping the book shut, “you’re right on time.”

“On time?” You question, wondering exactly how much he knew. Glancing around the room you note that Matthew isn’t even here.

He gives you a cryptic smile, moving toward you, placing the bible onto Matthew’s desk, before stopping in front of you.

His face is contemplative, stern, he raises a hand, trailing the backs of his fingers over your cheek.

Your breath catches as his touch tingles across your skin.

“Billy keeps touching you when he knows he shouldn’t.” His voice ripples across your skin, that spot between your legs warms slightly. 

You swallow, feeling the need to defend your longtime friend.

“He was just confused, he didn’t mean to.”

“No?” Frank asks, “And what about the night he came into your room to taste you? Was he confused then?”

Your eyebrows draw together.

Had that actually happened? Was it not a vivid dream? How did Frank know about it?

You can’t find the words to express your disbelief, searching his face for any indication that he was lying to you.

“That didn’t happen.” You protest weakly.

Instead of responding, his smile only deepens.

The sound of the door locking behind you draws your attention, and you turn to see Father Murdock standing at the door.

“I’m happy to see you came,” Matthew says, and you frown, opening your mouth to tell him that you hadn’t had much of a choice.

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this.” Frank answers. You glance at him, your brain teetering on overdrive as you try to fit pieces together that don’t go quite right.

Matthew leans his cane against the door, carefully approaching the both of you.

“And you, little one, are you ready to accept your sins and work towards redemption?”

You straighten.

“I am.”

“Good.” he says with finality, approaching you.

He reaches out, fingers finding your rosary around your neck, tracing the pearls.

“Tell me about this.” He says.

You swallow, glancing down at the rosary in question.

“It’s been passed down through each Mother Superior for generations. I inherited it when she passed. God bless her soul.”

“I see, and how did she die?”

You blink, wondering how he hasn’t heard the bizarre story yet.

“She got sick, they all did, every senior person in the abbey. It was horrible.”

“You poor thing.” Frank says, stepping closer behind you, and you turn to look up at him.

You give him a weak smile.

“It happens, I guess. The Lord’s reasons are not always known to us.”

He chuckles, lifting a hand to hover it over your rosary as well, never actually touching it.

“I suppose so.” He murmurs.

“Remove it,” Matthew’s voice interjects, “We are going to begin your punishment now.”

You nod, shakily tugging the rosary over your head, wrapping it around your fist with the expectation that you’re going to pray.

“Bend over my desk.”

You freeze.

“Wh-what?”

Matthew angles his head, saying Frank’s name, your eyes dart between the men as some kind of silent exchange happens.

Frank smiles politely, reaching out to grip your shoulders.

“I don’t think he wants to repeat himself, sweetheart.” Frank says, turning your body and guiding you toward the wooden desk.

Your hips pressed flush to the desk, you gasp as he presses on your shoulder, bending you over the table.

When you try to protest, and raise your body, Frank reaches to grip your wrists, pressing them down.

It renders you somewhat immobile, Frank moves to sit in the chair right in front of you, almost at eye level, while he keeps his grip firm on your wrists.

“What is going on? What kind of punishment is this?” You ask, wriggling, confused as to how this will redeem you in any way.

You feel hands settle on your backside, tugging your skirt up slowly.

“This punishment,” Matthew says behind you, “Is designed to make you reflect on your sins, to associate any thoughts of defilement with discomfort.”

Frank’s grip tightens on your wrists, drawing your attention.

“Don’t panic,” He whispers, leaning in close to you so that his voice is right in your ear, “Just look at me, and it’ll be over before you know it.”

His eyes do calm you, the warmth of his hands and the smell of sage that fills your senses eases your nerves.

You let out a slow breath, nodding at Frank.

Your eyes widen dramatically in the next moment when you feel your undergarments tugged down the length of your legs.

Your lower half is exposed to Father Murdock, and you stiffen when you feel his bare hand grip at the flesh of your cheek firmly.

“Let’s start simple,” Matt starts, “Was that the first time you’ve let a man touch you?”

You swallow.

“No.”

Something firm comes down on your rear, it makes a dull sound before you feel a gentle sting.

You turn your head, catching sight of the Bible that Frank had been reading earlier in Father Murdock’s hands, but as soon as you see it, Frank’s free hand is on your jaw, twisting your vision back to him.

He shakes his head.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me.” He commands.

You shiver, nodding, mouth dropping open at the flood of sensations you were experiencing, that… wasn’t quite bad at all.

“When was the first time you let someone defile you?” Matthew asks.

Frank's eyes study your face as you contemplate your answer.

“I kissed Billy, i-in the gazebo in the cemetery, when I was around seventeen.”

You gasp, feeling another hit against your rear, your eyes rolling in pleasure for just a moment.

“Is that all?”

“N-no, I kissed him a few days ago, in the same place.”

The bible hits you again.

“He’s the only man you’ve ever kissed?”

“Yes.” You answer honestly.

“But he’s not the only man you desire.” Matthew continues with a statement, and not a question.

“Um,” You murmur, trying to stall.

The bible comes down harder on your flesh, and you can’t help the moan that leaves your mouth.

“Please, Father Murdock, I’m sorry.”

His palm presses to your heated rear, fingers dipping down until they brush against your most intimate parts.

“You don’t feel sorry, little one, you feel wet.”

A whine leaves your throat, his fingers probe you, gliding over your cunt, pausing on your aching bud.

“Is this what you want? Does it excite you to be touched like this?”

You don’t answer, dropping your head in shame.

Another spank, this time a little harder than you expect.

Tears pool in your eyes.

“Yes, Father.” You answer honestly.

Another hit, followed by another. The pain stings, your body hot, the little spot between your legs throbbing, begging for attention.

You feel his hand, pulling your legs further apart, before something rubs against your center.

You tip your head back, mouth open, but before any sound can get out, Frank is pushing his thumb into your mouth.

“Not too loud, we don’t want anyone to hear you.”

Tears slip from the outer corners of your eyes, down your cheeks to pool in his hand, Matthew rubs the spine of the bible between your thighs in a slow, agonising movement.

You moan around Frank’s thumb, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure you’ve never felt before assails you.

Frank’s rough thumb sways over your thumb, you whimper, opening your eyes to meet his.

Matthew continues to give you pleasure, instead of pain, rubbing the indented leather spine along the seam of your cunt, pressing in, circling against you for a few moments.

Your fingers curl around your rosary, an aching throb begging you to tilt your hips up and rock your body further onto Matthew’s bible.

He spanks you again, and your only response is to suck on Frank’s fingers more passionately.

You flutter your pleading eyes at him, trying for the first time, to seduce, to encourage him to pleasure your body.

Frank smiles, dark eyes that seem to bore right into your soul, he leans forward to delicately glide his nose against yours.

“You take punishment so beautifully, sweetheart.”

You lean into the palm of his hand, accepting the compliment gratefully.

Your head swarms with pleasure, approaching that peak so easily you can almost taste it, Matt behind you, quietly pleasuring you.

You groan in dismay when he stops, feeling his hands smooth over the curves of your behind.

Your face is so close to Frank’s that you don’t react when you feel his tongue dart out to lick your tears away. You’re surprised at the way it feels, very different from Billy’s rougher, longer, an oddness to it that you cannot put your finger on.

You accept your fate, at the mercy of these two men, wondering briefly how Billy would fit into the mix.

Frank pulls his thumb out of your mouth, gripping your jaw softly so that he can press his mouth to yours.

At the same time, you feel a tongue dart out to lick between your legs.

You feel like putty, being molded anew, as Frank kisses your lips and Matthew kisses your cunt.

You gasp into Frank’s mouth, feel him chuckle, his lips taste sweet, soft, his tongue- dextrous and wicked, delving into your mouth with expert precision.

Humming, you note hazily that Frank’s tongue has two points, the movements are vile, delicious, you want to feel like this permanently.

Matt’s tongue is no less capable, licking hungrily at your wetness, humming into your delicate skin, kissing the areas that he’s punished with his bible.

Your toes curl, fingers tight around your rosary, head floating. Your body trembles, your breath stalling in your chest as bliss approaches. 

Matthew’s tongue withdraws, and you find that the disappointment is almost too much to bear.

You stiffen, eyes searching Frank’s, begging for something more as Matthew rights your underwear, pulling your skirt over your legs.

Frank withdraws too, you glance down, watching as he removes his hand from around your wrists, his palm holding odd marks where your rosary has touched him.

“Why?” You whisper helplessly.

“Punishments are not supposed to feel good, little one, they’re supposed to make you want to be good.” 

Your body responds eagerly to Matthew’s words. You find that he’s right, you want to be good, you want- more of what he gave you.

“How do I be good?” You ask timidly.

Matthew helps you stand on shaky legs, his mouth- pink and glistening- no doubt with your arousal.

“Obedience.” He answers your question, carefully untangling your rosary from your hands and placing it around your neck.

He takes a second, running his thumb across your bottom lip gently, the gesture heavy with affection.

“I have to go now, but I'll see you later?” He murmurs.

You nod, looking up at him with glassy eyes, wondering if you were too much above begging for release.

You don't get a chance to contemplate it further, before he leaves.

You drop your head, contemplating your actions, before turning to look at Frank.

“I'm confused.”

Frank chuckles, moving around the table to stand before you.

“What's troubling you?”

“I was just punished for letting Billy almost defile me last night, and in the process, he- you both- well you defiled me in a way too.”

“That does sound confusing, yes.” He agrees, stepping in closer. You take a deep breath, enjoying his masculine scent.

“I think, sweetheart, you just have to accept that these things are barely going to make sense from now on.” 

Your eyebrows draw together in further confusion. He reaches up, fingers stroking your jaw to bring your attention back to him.

“You really are beautiful.” He says, deep in thought. You feel heat rising to your cheeks.

“Th- thank you.” You whisper.

.

“When was the last time he was seen?” Sister April asks.

You wait, listening to Sister Margaret's mumbled response.

“Perhaps at morning mass yesterday? Definitely not after that. Father Murdock even confirmed that he wasn't in the dormitory last night.”

“It was pouring last night,” you recall, “Could he have gotten lost somewhere?”

Sister April lifts her shoulders.

“It’s possible, everyone is looking for him, hopefully he is found soon.”

You nod in agreement, concerned for one of the monks residing here. 

You’d been so caught up with Billy, Matthew and Frank, that you’d let your duties to your people fall short, and now someone was missing. 

It was hard not to blame yourself.

.

.

.

[bunmurdock]

IM STILL ASKING!!! ….. being bratty when he comes back from patrol and hes all dirty and covered in tons of shit and you already have a a hot bath ready. he tells you to get in it and he gets NAKED and makes you suck him off and when he comes? he shoves your head under:)

nonnie, i fear you and @lambmurdock’s latest blurb have ignited something TRULY awful inside me :I i went a little off-script but i hope this can suffice. admittedly, this is fantasy i’ve had for months, so it is a little different. and i was too shy to share until i got this ask and a few dm’s about it, so thank !!

cw: dark!matt murdock, extreme breathplay/asphyxiation, no sex just discipline, dubcon, fear play, allusions to spanking. you are responsible for your own media consumption.

“ah-ah. what’s rule number one?”

his voice is low, measured. calm in that way that makes your stomach flip, that makes the water lapping against your bare skin feel colder. matt stands in front of you, water up to his chest, taller even as you tread at the same level. moonlight catches on the water beading off his skin, dripping slow from his week-old stubble, from the damp curls clinging to his forehead. the scent of chlorine lingers under clean sweat and something distinctly him, like worn leather and the copper tang of blood. he smells like control, like ownership.

but you don’t concede. because you’re feeling defiant tonight.

his hand is firm under your chin, tilting your face up toward the voice you can’t escape. he’s so close. you can feel the heat of him, the solid weight of his muscles, the tension that never fully leaves his body. his cock is hard where it prods your thigh under the surface, thick and unforgiving, a constant reminder of what he can do to you, what he will do.

but you still don’t answer.

you keep your lips pressed together, eyes darting over the lines of his face. the quiet control in his expression makes your stomach churn—the sharp angles of his jaw tensed, the almost imperceptible twitch in his brow. his patience is thin, and you know it. you’re pushing, and he’s letting you.

for now.

his sigh is soft, almost disappointed. then, before you can react, his arm hooks around your throat, pulling you in, pressing your back flush against the unrelenting heat of his chest. your limbs flail, a squeak slipping past your lips as he locks you there, his breath a steady rasp in your ear.

“shh. hear that?” his voice is terrifyingly low.

you still, and you swear you can hear your heartbeat, thrumming hard and fast in your chest.

his free hand slides up, fingers threading into your wet hair, tight, tilting your head back just enough to expose your throat. his grip is deliberate, firm, the kind of control that doesn’t waver.

“hmm,” he muses, thumb dragging over your pulse, feeling it race beneath his fingertips. “maybe i didn’t make myself clear the first time.”

then, without warning, he shoves you under.

cold swallows you whole.

water rushes up your nose, floods your ears, drowns out everything but the tight burn in your chest. your hands fly to his forearm, nails scraping uselessly at his skin as your legs kick out beneath you, trying, failing, to get any sort of leverage. he holds you there, unwavering, his body unmoved by your thrashing.

above the surface, you can hear him grunt, feel the strain of his muscles tensing around you, containing you like it takes effort not to just squeeze the fight out of you entirely.

then, just as fast, he yanks you back up.

you gasp, coughing, sputtering, your body jerking in his hold. he doesn’t let go. doesn’t loosen his grip. his arm remains a solid bar across your chest, keeping you plastered against him as you suck in frantic lungfuls of air.

“try again,” he says, voice low and maddeningly composed. but all you can do is choke on your own breath, blinking hard as your vision spins.

his grip tightens when you don’t answer fast enough. “what. is. rule. number. one.”

“d-don’t lie,” you manage, voice hoarse.

“good,” he says, simple and firm. “and what did you do tonight?”

silence.

his jaw tightens, the muscles flexing beneath the damp stubble on his face. and then—you’re under again.

this time he holds you down longer. long enough that panic starts to sink its claws into your ribs, that your limbs start thrashing harder, burning with the primal need to breathe.

then—air.

this time you gasp before he even says a word, before he can remind you that your next breath is entirely at his mercy. you sob in a desperate lungful of oxygen, nails sinking into his wrist, your entire body shaking.

“answer me,” he demands, voice smooth and unwavering, like he’s got all the time in the world to teach you this lesson. “what did you do?”

shame slithers under your skin, sticky and suffocating.

“—lied!”

his breath hits your neck, tinged with exertion. his grip around your chest tightens, pressing you further against him, his cock heavy and hard against your back.

“where were you?”

your throat bobs. “lied about—about where i was. about—who i was with.”

his fingers stroke through your wet hair, deceptively gentle.

“so you put yourself at risk. you let me think you were safe when you weren’t.” his voice is flat, no mockery, no indulgence. “you steadied your heartbeat. let me believe a lie.”

then, again, he shoves you under.

your body jerks violently, legs kicking out, hands scrabbling against his forearm. his grip is unshakable, fingers digging into your scalp as he keeps you down, keeps you there.

above the surface, you can hear the faint sound of his breath hitching, his restraint barely held together as you squirm against him.

“nngh,” he grunts, like the effort of holding you down is doing something to him, like he likes feeling you break.

and then—nothing.

limp.

weightless.

floating in the dark.

when you come to, you’re clinging to him, sobbing and body wracked with shudders, fingers curling weakly into his broad, solid shoulders. one of his palms supports your bottom, warm and supple, still lingering heat of earlier discipline. his muscles flex beneath your touch, powerful and unyielding, his arms a cage around you, his other palm smoothing slow over the back of your head.

“there you go,” he murmurs, voice softer now. “breathe, breathe.”

you try to quell your incessant hiccups, cheek pressed tight into his neck. his heartbeat is steady, unfazed, the only thing grounding you as you choke in ragged, desperate breaths.

you melt against him, something warm and safe flooding your chest even as your body trembles.

his fingers tangle in your hair, stroking, soothing. he grumbles something under his breath that sounds like “oh, baby."

his hand tightens in your hair, just enough to make your breath catch. “so tell me,” he murmurs, breath hot against your ear. “are you going to make me do this to you again, sweetheart?”

you shake your head frantically, desperate. immediate.

his chuckle is low, pleased.

and this time—this time, when he presses a kiss to your temple, you believe you’ve earned it.

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[fakefanofmarvel]

Novacane// Matt Murdock X Dark! Reader

CW: THIS IS A DARK FIC. If that is not something you are into please scroll. Mentions of Drugging, Drugs, Kidnapping, stalking, and a lot of really not-good things. I always read dark character fic and was trying to do a little spin and have the reader bat shit crazy hope you enjoy it. MINORS DNI. Part 2 3

You watched the video on your phone over and over again. The devil of hell's kitchen was back and better than ever. You watched as he fought the man the news was calling "The Punisher". His body in that tight suit was enough you make anyone swoon without even seeing his face. He was tall and slender yet muscular, he had to be the way he was tossing another grown man around like a doll. You wanted him and would do anything to determine who he was. It took about a week of examing the videos of him online to realize the eyes in his suit were covered meaning he either didn't want to see or couldn't. How he would stand still during battle almost like he was listening for something rather than looking helped you narrow your search for a tall, muscular, blind man in his early 30s. By this time, the punisher was captured, and word about his legal team had gotten out. Nelson and more importantly, Murdock.

"Thank you guys so much for taking my case with everything going on now with that punisher guy I'm assuming it's pretty busy around here," You thanked Karen

Once you made the connection linking Matt to Daredevil it was smooth sailing from there. First, figure out how to get a case for them to take. Luckily your landlord had been refusing to fix the air in your apartment while simultaneously raising your rent which from your research was right up Nelson and Murdock's ally. Second, somehow get them to take a case in the height of the case of the century. That is where Karen came in. A super sweet girl has a soft spot for women in trouble. Worked like a charm.

"Of course, this should be a pretty open-and-shut case. Foggy is great with these types of things," She said handing you a clipboard to fill out paperwork.

"Hm Foggy? Is he the blind one?" You asked already knowing the answer

"No that would be Matt," She corrected handing you a pen.

You started filling out the paperwork trying not to raise any suspension

"Oh I just think it's awesome how he a blind lawyer. I'm going blind in my right eye so it's refreshing to see how blind people don't let their disable stop them," You lied trying to see if you could hit another soft spot in Karen. "He's like an inspiration. I want to be a doctor,"

You saw a sweet smile come across her face. Bingo you had her in the palm of your hand.

"You know, he'll be here in about 45 minutes if you wanted to take your time on that paperwork and meet him," she offered

"Oops," You dropped the paperwork on purpose buying you a few extra minutes.

Karen laughed and chatted with you while you did the paperwork.

"I'm sorry, you didn't get to meet Matt the other day. He tends you disappear most days," Karen apologized as she took a sip of her drink.

You had made friends with Karen. Which wasn't hard she was actually really nice and you had a few things in common. She had invited you out to drink with her and Foggy at the Josie's.

"It's okay. I'm sure I'll meet him soon,"

The truth was you were tired of waiting and you were determined to meet him that night.

"Thank you guys for inviting me out. I don't have many friends since moving here," You lied again.

"Of course," Foggy spoke up. " Who says you can't be friends with your clients," He joked knowing he and Karen had become close friends after they defended her case.

The 3 of you spent the rest of the night drinking and playing pool. You were 3 shots and 2 mixed drinks in when you heard the sound of tapping heading your way. Your head faced the direction the sound was coming from and you laid eyes on him for the first time. He was much taller in person.

"Hey Matt, over here," Foggy said waving him over.

Without missing a beat he walked over to the three of you. Once in front of Foggy he stopped and whispered something to him.

"Oh, this is our new client, (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Matt Murdock," You reached out to shake his hand when you realized you were drunker than you thought.

You stumbled forward, falling into him. "Woah you okay," he asked

"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry. I think I had too much to drink," You regained your balance. " Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," He shook your hand.

The two of your hands are still locked together. You stared at him finally seeing the man you had been obsessed with for the last few months. You had obviously caught his attention too because he was staring back even though he couldn't see you.

"Nice to meet you too," He said breaking the silence between the two of you.

"Okay well. I'm going to walk Karen home. Can you make sure (Y/N gets home safely, please?" Foggy asked holding up an equally drunk Karen.

"Of course, Foggy. Be safe you two." Matt insured him

You watched as Foggy and Karen leave the bar, leaving just you and Matt.

"I'm sorry you missed all the fun," You stood in front of the door of your apartment building.

"Oh don't apologize. Foggy and Karen seem to be very fond of you I'm sure we will have more time to catch up,"

"I would really like that Matt," You said earning a smile from him. "Do you want to come up for a drink since you didn't get to have one? And I can call you a cab they hardly come around here this time of night," You offered hoping he'd take the bait.

"I would love to,"

Perfect. You unlocked the door and led the way up to your apartment. You flicked the light on as you walked in, Matt was not far behind.

"Sorry about the mess I wasn't expecting company," You apologized

"It's alright it's not like I can see it anyway," he joked.

"Oh gosh, sorry was that insensitive"

He laughed before reassuring you it wasn't. The two of you made your way to the living room. You showed him to the couch before walking to the bar area to make him a drink.

"I hope a vodka soda is okay because that's all I have," You joked handing it to him.

"Uh yeah. Of course. Thank you again,"

"So how long have you known Foggy and Karen?" You asked trying to make conversation.

The two of you talked for hours only being interrupted when you noticed the sun had started to rise.

"Shoot, Matt, it's almost 6am," You said grabbing the cups from the coffee table and taking them to the kitchen.

"Hey, it's alright. I'll just be a little late for work. I'm sure Foggy and Karen will understand, "He explained getting up and grabbing his jacket.

"Of course, they've been really sweet to me these last few days. It was really nice to finally meet you, Matt," You walked him over to the door.

"We should really do this again. I had a lot of fun," He said standing next to the unopened door.

"Maybe next time we'll go back to your place, Mr. Murdock." You teased.

"I think I like it better over here actually," He grabbed your waist pulling you closer until you could feel his breath on your lips.

"I think I like you better over here too actually," You said flustered

You were glad he couldn't see your face because you would be embarrassed at how hard you were blushing right now. He leaned in for a kiss which you dodged.

"Sorry, Mr. Murdock, I don't kiss on the first date. Meet me back here after work and you might get that kiss," You pushed him back by his chest.

"Well, I guess I'll be back tonight," He said before kissing you on the forehead and leaving.

You smiled to yourself before locking the door behind him. As much as you wanted to kiss Matt you knew you had to wait. You didn't want to come off too strong and scare him. You made your way over to the kitchen where you had put the coffee mugs. You grabbed the one Matt used and dropped it in a ziplock bag before walking over to the grey and gold treasure chest you keep in your closet. You open the top of the chest where you kept all your research on Matt, along with pictures and now the mug he used to drink coffee out of. A smile crept onto your face as you closed the lid to your private tribute to the Devil of Hell's Kitchen and locked it, knowing soon he'd be yours

"Ruling in favor of the Plaintiff, the court dismissed," The judge banged the gavel on the bench before getting up.

Matt and Foggy both hugged you as your case came to a close. After 2 long months, you guys had built a perfect case. You just wanted your air fixed but in the end, you were able to move to an updated apartment free of charge and were able to keep the same rent payments as before. The court cleared out only leaving the 4 of you.

"Thank you guys so much! You two make a really good team. Celebration at my new apartment whenever I move in," The 3 of you laughed with Karen joining in from the gallery. "Well how about drinks tonight at Josie's, my treat," Matt spoke up.

"Ouu carefully, Ms. (Y/L/N), I think your boyfriend is trying to impress us," Froggy joked.

"He is very charming," You smiled up at him as he pulled you into a side hug kissing you on the top of the head.

"Let's get out of here. I really want to go change out of this dress," Karen spoke up

"Uh yeah. We will meet you guys in like an hour," You said

"More like 2 hours," Matt nudged you

Foggy and Karen both groaned in unison. Not far behind the two of you as you exited the courtroom.

"You are one kick-ass lawyer," You said undoing Matt's tie. You noticed a cut on his neck.

You of course knew it was from his nights as DareDevil but he doesn't know that so you had to play the role of confused girlfriend.

"Hey, what's this" He grabbed your hand before it reached the scar

"Uh, I'm actually not sure. I run into a lot of stuff. You know with the whole being blind thing," He joked

You laughed along as you undid the buttons on his shirt.

"You gotta be more careful, Matt, can't have my 'boyfriend' getting all banged up" you quoted Foggy from earlier

"I'm sorry, I had told Foggy things between us were getting a little more serious. I hope you don't mind"

"Of course not. I was hoping I wasn't imagining it," the two of you laughed

"So will you be my girlfriend?" He asked as he lifted your shirt over your head.

"Duh Murdock," You stood on your toes to kiss him.

He picked you up wrapping your legs around him. He laid you down on the bed before undoing his belt

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

snow white

kinktober, day fifteen

a/n: i really wanted to play around with a fairytale this kinktober season and i came up with maybe too many ideas for a bunch of different ones, but this one just stuck with me for months, so i had to go with this one.

summary: that was often how it was with your seven miners. In certain moments, they just became something else, something entirely different and much more ethereal than seven mortal men, but instead fused together into a sea of love that they let you float in. 

warnings: snow white!reader x various, dark!prince!billy russo, miners!steve rogers, bucky barnes, thor odinson, miguel o'hara, marc spector, matt murdock, frank castle, dark content, smut, fairytale retelling, innocent!reader, references to loss of virginity, arranged engagement, assassination attempt, violence, poison apple, kidnapping, somno, polyamory, reverse harem, time jump (for domestic and slutty purposes), kissing, fingering, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, overstimulation, oral, handjob, squirting, multiple orgasms, gangbang, penetrative sex, anal, double penetration, double penetration in one hole, unprotected sex, creampie, dark ending

word count: 6746

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masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2024

Once upon a time, there lived a princess. 

You, to be exact. 

However, your day-to-day life, that wasn’t a part of you that one could define as something very regal, not lately, not since your father had died and left you in the hands of his late wife, a vain woman he had only married a short time prior to his passing. 

There wasn’t much you were allowed to do any longer as your stepmother was perhaps a bit too overprotective of you in her own cold way, even though many of the chores the sea of servants that buzzed within the castle took care of, that for some reason wasn’t off limits to you, if not encouraged by the queen. 

But it was all out of love, wasn’t it? 

“Oh, there you are!” your gaze fluttered up to find the prim and familiar figure stalking towards you in the gardens, “what in the world are you doing out by this ghastly old well?”

“Prince William,” you stiffened up slightly at his presence and swiftly did a curtsy, “w-what are you doing here?” 

“Ah, come on, Snow,” his palm brushed against the edge of the stone well, briefly cleaning it a bit before he leaned against it, “how many times do I have to tell you to call me Billy?” 

“Your Highness,” you swallowed nervously, “I’m just not sure that would be completely appropriate. You deserve to be paid with the utmost respect.” 

“Oh, I agree,” a sly smirk slithered across his chiselled features, “though, I do think my fiancé should be allowed just a little leniency.” 

“Oh,” you put on a smile for the royal, “you got engaged? Congratulations! Is it to someone I know?” 

“I’d sure hope so,” he grinned, and the next words that rolled off his tongue caused your face to drop, “it’s you.”

Blinking back at him, you couldn’t help but flinch as he stepped to get closer to you.

“…excuse me?” you breathed, your hand fluttering up to the neckline of your modest gown as you felt your heart begin to hammer in your chest.

“We’re to be married,” he caught your hand and kept on smiling, “I just sorted the last of the details out with your mother a few moments ago.” 

“Stepmother,” you corrected him hazily before uttering, “I–… how come I didn’t know about any of this? Why didn’t anyone think to ask me what I wanted?” 

Billy’s face then scrunched up at your question, as if it was the strangest of reactions to have at such news, “well you know now.” 

“That’s–,” you stared back at him, your eyes wide and horrified before you ripped your arm back out of his hold, “no.”

“What?” 

“No, I don’t wanna marry you,” the words flowed out of your lungs. 

But to your astonishment, the prince of the neighbouring kingdom then only chuckled, “what do you mean you don’t want to marry me? Of course you do, everyone does.”

“Well, I don’t.” 

Slowly, he seized your arm in a bruising grip before inching closer to you and leaning down to sternly whisper in your ear, “you better get rid of this attitude before you become my wife.”

The following week when the queen suggested that you go for a walk through the nearby woods, an activity you’d formerly thought to be banned as all your previous pleas throughout the years had failed, you nearly stumbled as you rushed to accept the opportunity. 

Where this newfound kindness had come from that you had no clue of, though you weren’t going to argue now as the chains around you slowly began to slacken. 

The queen’s protective nature for you stayed fast however when she sent a guard to accompany you, though one you’d never encountered before as you spent so much time in the castle that you knew all of the others by name. Perhaps he was just new? 

Though when you eventually came upon a clearing and you decided to take a small break in that peaceful and serene glen, it all changed so quickly that you nearly got whiplash. 

One moment, you were grinning up at the treetops, whistling back to the birds building a nest up there, and the next, the guard shadowing you had raised a dagger up high and lunged it down upon you. Thankfully, luck was for once on your side and you managed to twist just enough for it to miss your sternum and instead slice through your sleeve and cut your shoulder. 

When you tried to run, a shrill scream erupting your frame, the knight caught your arm before you could manage to escape.

Though just as all hope seemed lost, when the dappled sunlight caught and reflected in the shiny blade as he rose it back up high, it never pierced your heart as a pickaxe instead suddenly appeared from out of nowhere, flying through the air and lodging itself right above the guard’s brow. 

He stayed standing for a second, blood trickling down his face, before the warrior’s body fell backwards and collapsed on the forest floor. 

Your frame shook like a leaf on the wind as you stood there, eyes wide with horror, watching his brain leak and stain the moss below your feet. 

“Are you alright, my lady?” a deep voice called from behind you, though it still took you a moment before you were able to rip yourself out of your petrified state. 

As you slowly twisted around, you saw seven men standing at the edge of the clearing, all of them except the blonde one in the middle with a pickaxe clutched in their hands. 

“Are you hurt?” the miner missing his tool spoke again, taking a ginger step closer. 

Still reeling, unable to fathom that you nearly just lost your life, you blinked, “I–… I–…” though just continued to stand there, frozen in the middle of the storm. 

“You’re bleeding,” a dark-haired man further down the line uttered before the muddled confusion that bloomed on your horrified features caused him to gently gestured to your arm and guide your gaze down to your shoulder. 

“O-oh…” you blinked back at the gash, though still couldn’t pierce through the fog to do anything more. As your glossy eyes flickered back up to gaze at your heroes, the woods around you began to spin as you then blubbered, “you saved me… I–… I–…” before the whole forest went black and you collapsed into a pair of quick arms. 

“Wow, it’s alright,” a voice washed over you as soon as you came to, “you’re okay.”

After your eyes had found the source of the deep timbre, they then flickered around to take in the unfamiliar home you now found yourself in.

“Where am I?” you asked hesitantly as you sat up in the bed you’d been planted on. Looking around the space, it wasn’t the only one as the whole room was filled with enough sleeping arrangements for all of the strangers. 

“Don’t worry, you’re safe,” the long golden locks on the man sitting by your feet rustled slightly as he raised up both hands in a gesture of goodwill, “you’re in our home,” he informed you before his neck twisted and he shouted out the open bedroom door, “hey guys! She’s awake!”

As the rest of the men from the forest began to filter into the dormitory, your legs curled up beneath the blanket and you swiftly hugged your knees to your chest. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” one of them asked in a careful tone. 

“I–…” you felt your heart thump in your chest as your wide eyes danced between the burly figures, “what do you–, w-why did you take me with you?” 

Taking a step forward, a dark-haired one said, “well, we couldn’t in good conscience just leave you back there and let you bleed next to your assassin,” he then tilted his head, “plus my healing supplies were all back here.” 

As you glanced down to discover your slashed sleeve cut off and missing with a bandage instead wrapped around the ghastly cut on your upper arm, you then blinked back up at the stranger and asked, “you’re a healer?”

“No, not really, I’m a miner, we all are,” he gestured to the others. 

“Yeah, we work in the mines out west on the other side of the village,” the one leaning against the doorframe shared. 

You faintly recalled the mines they spoke of, though you hadn’t been out there since you were a child, the memory however of the glimmering jewels it produced still sparkled brightly in your mind. 

“Hey, do you mind me asking,” the one standing beside the pickaxe-throwing blonde spoke, “why in the world would a royal guard want to kill you? I mean, forgive me if your looks are deceiving, but you look like just an innocent young girl.”

Averting your gaze to the quilted blanket draped over your form, you uttered, “it’s probably because my stepmother commanded him to…”

“Wow…” one of them breathed, “she has that kinda power? Then you must be, what–, some kind of lady?”

“Princess, actually,” you blinked up at them and watched as they all froze up, instantly growing so quiet that you would have been able to hear a single pin drop in the cottage, “thank you all so very much for saving me. I can’t even begin to fathom what would have happened if you hadn’t intervened.” 

“Oh, well…” the blonde one in the middle shifted slightly, visibly nervous at the discovery of who you truly were, “you’re welcome, your–, uhm, highness.”

“Please, just call me Snow. That’s what everyone does,” you waved a hand and offered him a soft smile, “what are your names?”

“Well, I’m Steve,” the one who’d thrown the pickaxe pressed his palm to his broad chest, “and that there is Bucky, Thor and Marc,” he gestured to the other miners, “and that’s Matthew, Frank and Miguel.”

“Miguel,” you spoke the name of your healer, “thank you for patching up my arm.” 

“Does it feel alright?” he glanced down at the bandage, he too clearly not having a clue how one should act around a royal, “because I could go get some herbs if you–”

“No, thank you, I think I’ll manage” you gently declined before uttering, “although, I–… what’s to happen now? I can’t just go back to the castle, I’d be dead within minutes.”

“Don’t you have anyone you trust somewhere else? Someone you could stay with?” the one named Matthew asked. 

The only person your mind managed to scrounge up was the prince you’d been unwillingly promised to, and he wasn’t just an individual you didn’t trust, but also one you feared.

“No…”

“Uh…” Marc exhaled before his glance flickered across the rest, “would you excuse us for a moment?” 

And as you offered a nod, they all filtered back out the bedroom and huddled up just outside the door, though you could still faintly catch a word or two in their discussion.

“Okay,” Steve crossed his burly arms across his chest when they all entered the room once more, “you can stay here for tonight, and then tomorrow we’ll help you come up with a plan.”

The following day, when all the miners had gone off to the mountains for the day’s work, they’d said their goodbyes before leaving you in the cottage, fully expecting you to no longer be there once they returned. 

But you didn’t leave, you couldn’t have. Where would you have run off to?

So instead, to both try and convince the entire group of you staying, yet also in a makeshift attempt at thanking them for how they’d come to your aid, you spend the day cleaning their messy abode and welcoming them home to a dining table brimming with a roasted feast, a simple comfort none of them had seen in a while. 

It had only been one of them who hadn’t instantly jumped onto the unanimous agreement to let you become a part of their household, but he swiftly received an elbow to the rib to help change his tune.

Not long passed before you soon grew close, and one night, after weeks of you experiencing a sensation you’d never even known existed, something unfamiliar that each and every one of them evoke and flooded your senses with, you finally couldn’t hold your tongue any longer as your innocence had begun to thrust you into the abyss of worry. 

You still hadn’t received a permanent sleeping arrangement even though you’d been here for a while, each one of the miners still took turns letting you borrow one of their simple beds, all of them lined up along the perimeter of the shared bedroom, and let you rest there for the night while they took the humble couch. 

So as you sat on your bed for the night and your gaze shadowed the men as finished getting ready for the night, shedding their clothing and washing up in a small basin by one of the windows, the unfamiliar feeling fluttered once more in your lower belly and drove you to part your lips and utter, “hey Miguel?” you caught the attention of the healer of the lot, “I think there might be something wrong with me…” 

Patting his damp face dry with a small rag, he brought it down upon his shoulder as he furrowed his dark brows over at you, “why would you think that?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you met his glance, “I feel strange…”

“Strange how?” he took a seat at the foot of the mattress you were curled up on, “explain it to me.”

“Well,” you began hesitantly, “ever since I got here, since I met you all, this weird feeling keeps bubbling up inside of me, like I’m about to faint or something, like I can’t think, and all I can focus on is just this odd tingling sensation almost, like–, I don’t know how to explain it, I know it sounds weird, but I swear, something’s going on, I don’t know what, but it’s weird.”

The man’s head then promptly tilted to the side and you heard him exhale, “oh, honey…” 

Your explanation also caught the attention of the rest of the miners and even conjured a small laugh in some, though Steve swiftly stepped in and barked, “hey! Shut it!” rapidly putting a holt to Bucky and Marc’s amusement. 

Placing a palm on your blanket-covered shin, Miguel then uttered gently, “I think what you’re describing isn’t something bad.”

“Are you sure?” you sat up a bit more. 

“Positive,” he nodded, trying his best to keep a straight face unlike some of the men behind him who still struggled even after getting scalded. 

“So, I’m not sick?”

“No,” he shook his head, “you’re not.”

“Your Highness,” Frank then spoke up, “have you never–, uhm, been with someone else?” 

“What do you mean?” your brows knitted together. 

“Okay, uh…” Thor sighed softly, taking your confusion as enough of an answer, “have you ever–, let’s say, kissedsomeone before?”

“Well, yeah, I’ve been kissed before,” your thoughts drifted to Prince Billy, though none of those times had stirred any sensations of this sort, “but I’ve never felt like this, not ever,” your gaze then danced between and caught each of the stares the seven miners directed at you, “what’s going on? Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Have you touched yourself while you feel like this?” your eyes suddenly grew at Bucky’s bold question, “does your little honeypot get all wet from this feeling?” and when you found yourself too stunned to conjure an answer, he went on, this time with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, “I mean, if you’d like, one of us could help you. Teach you how to make it feel better…” 

“You know how to make it better?” you blinked back at him.

“Oh yeah,” his gaze dipped a bit as his grin grew wider. 

“Do you want one of us to help you?” you then heard Steve offer. 

And as your head began to rock in a soft nod, Marc asked, “which one do you want?”

But as you stared around at all of them, you murmured, “I–… I don’t know…”

“Just pick the one that gives you the most butterflies,” Matt tried to aid your decision, “the one that makes you feel like your heart lives between your thighs.”

“…do I have to pick?” you asked quietly as you blinked around at all of them, now clustered by the small bed, “couldn’t you all just help me?”

“…you want all of us to help you?” Miguel’s head dipped slightly as he tilted forward in surprise. 

“At once?” Frank asked. 

And as you offered them a nod, they all exchanged looks, silently agreeing before Steve uttered, “alright.” 

With all of the miners surrounding the bed, they swiftly kneeled down on the floor in a half-moon around you before they began. 

Before Marc, Thor and Frank the furthest from you grabbed a hold of the blanket draped over you and began to tug it down and let it crumble below your feet, Matt and Miguel to your right gently prepared you and began to undo your confusion. 

Each of their touches were feathery in the beginning as their fingers ghosted over your frame. At first, it wasn’t even in that scandalous of places as Steve and Matt even continued to hold your hands long after the thin chemise you wore had been tugged at, the neckline pushed down to expose your boobs, heaving with every fierce breath you sucked in, and the skirts shoved up, letting the linen bunch well above your hips to uncover the place where the dizzying sensation peaked to unimaginable heights. 

When the first touch fluttered between your legs, your eyes swiftly flickered up to find Bucky and Steve’s directly to your left as the pleasure was one you’d never even thought possible. 

You rapidly melted into the bliss as lingering embarrassment faded away and you soon let them crack you open even further, folding up your legs to grant them all better access to your haven. 

Even before your eyes fluttered closed, the job of deciphering which hand belonged to who was an impossible task. Floating in the sea of touches, not a millimetre of your skin was left unexplored, and neither were your untouched holes as they all turned you so molten that at one point everyone had at least one finger warm within you at once. 

Four digits stretched out your lips and both gave your mouth something to drool around and also let your moans melt against their flesh. Three of them slipped in and worked in tandem to stretch out your virgin cunt. They’d even gotten you so relaxed that two managed to sneak a finger inside of your tight little ass, plugging you up completely.

And when the still unfamiliar high began to bubble within you and creep near, worry first began to billow out of you once more, though after some soothing sentences and an ask of trust, they carried you through the overwhelming ecstasy till you were trembling in their hands and begging them to grant you that gift one more time, like an addict, already craving that sweetness once again.  

ONE YEAR LATER

“Ah-ha-ha!” Thor’s jovial rumble was the first sign you got that any of the fellows had returned after a day at the mines, “come here, princess!” 

As he entered the cottage, arms spread out wide, he excitedly caught you in a hug and lifted you up as he swung you around till you became no more than an ethereal giggle in his hold. 

“Oh, no,” you complained light-heartedly through your laugh as his stale smell of sweat mixed with soot flooded your senses, “you’re so dirty!” you tried to glance down at your dress to see if any of the grime from the mine had transferred.

Letting out a chuckle as he only tightened his hold around your frame, “you love it,” he tilted his head out of the crook of your neck and planted a kiss to your lips. 

“You’re not–,” you continued your giggle even as his own mouth tried to smother the sound, “Thor, you need to bathe first.” 

“Oh, really?” he cocked his head and slyly narrowed his eyes, “you sure you don’t wanna repeat the welcome home you gave me yesterday where you couldn’t wait? I mean, I could barely get in the door before you had your lips on me, struggling to fit my balls inside that little mouth of yours?” 

His lips first pressed against your now hot cheek before they wandered across in a straight line down to your own, not simmering down his eagerness even as the rest of his fellow miners began to filter into the cabin. 

“Oh, so that’s why you ran ahead,” Marc’s sigh caused you to break the peck, “of course.” 

Still entangled in Thor’s strong arms, you glanced over at the familiar men who crossed the threshold and slowly began to set down their tools and peel off their muddy boots.  

“Heya, boys,” a warm bubble burst within you as you flashed them all a smile. Attempting to slip out of the burly hug, Thor still kept his palm interlocked in your own as you made your way around through the crowd and began to greet the others, “how was the mine today?”

“It was fine,” Frank muttered in your ear when you hugged him. 

And as your free arm lastly found Steve’s broad shoulder in an embrace, his low voice tickled the side of your neck as he exhaled, “hi Snow.”  

“Hi,” you pressed a soft kiss to his bearded cheek. 

As you retracted and let Thor pull you back against his warmth, Miguel asked, “so, what’s for dinner tonight?” as Thor leaned back against the sturdy dining table and dragged you with him, half planting you in his lap as he leaned you back against him. 

Though as the softness of your bottom came to rest against the miner’s pelvis, a palpable hardness distracted you even through the layers of your dress, “uhm, I’ve got a lentil stew going over the fire,” your breathing began to grow unsteady as he discreetly grinded you down against his desperation, “it should be done soon.” 

“Good,” Miguel smiled, haven not yet noticed the nefarious activities that had begun right under his own nose, “I’m starving.” 

“What else have you gotten up to today?” Matt asked as he sat down on the bench where Marc had already planted himself, “did you begin that book we were talking about?” 

“I–, uh, I started it, but I didn’t get that far,” your words became a struggle to form as you tried to fight through the fog Thor thrust you into, “ended up taking a nap instead.”

“Well, that’s good,” Bucky noted, “you were tossing and turning so much last–,” though his sentence then promptly crumbled as a soft whimper finally slipped out past your lips and drew his attention to the way Thor’s hands on your hips subtly rocked you down against him, “seriously?” he swiftly scalded him, “you couldn’t keep it in your pants for even two seconds?” 

“Right,” Thor scoffed, “like I'm the only one who’s desperate,” he then buried his grasp in your skirts and before you had the chance to protest, picked it up to prove his point. 

It was frankly a bit embarrassing how wet you already were, though when Thor grabbed ahold of your thighs and lifted you up, your back plastered against his chest as his hold on you spread you wide for all to see, your cunt couldn’t help but drool for them so fiercely that even the one furthest away from you could catch a glimpse of the glimmer glinting back at him in a lewd plea.  

“Hm…” Bucky hummed warmly as he kneeled down before you, though only let his palm come up to ghost against your inner thigh and didn’t grant you the sweet relief of petting your pussy as she cried out for his touch, “your Highness, are you sure it wasn’t something else you were doing all day while we were off at work?” 

“I–,” an airy chuckle innocently escaped your lungs, “what are you implying?” 

“Well, either you were too impatient to wait for us,” you sucked in a breath as his hand finally drifted up to offer your core the softest of pets, teasing you further into madness, “or just the mere sound of the front door opening got you dripping the way that you are right now…” 

“So, which is it, princess?” Frank smirked, arms crossed as he leaned back against the wall beside the fireplace, “are you a whore or is it just for us?” 

“You already know the answer to that…” you hazily smiled, though swiftly let out a whimper as Bucky removed his hand, denying you of any further pleasure. However, before you could part your lips in a complaint, Thor set you back down on your now wobbly feet. 

Your gaze found Steve’s as he took a seat beside Marc, unlike the rest of the men who began to swarm around you, their broad hands swiftly reaching for your dress. It nearly didn’t even get the chance to drop back down and cover you from how Thor had torn it up, before they nearly ripped it to shreds. 

And when no fabric was left to conceal your frame, your moment with your feet on the ground turned out to be more fleeting than you’d thought as both Frank and Miguel then shifted to stand behind you and their grasps found your form, first guiding your arms around their necks for support before they plucked you up. 

As Matt stepped up and seized your flaming cheeks to dip his lips down to yours, a whisper then washed over you as the sweet kiss ended, “can I have a taste?” and as your head began to nod, your nose momentarily nuzzled against his own before his knees buckled. 

Both Thor and Bucky enveloped a hand around your ankles, keeping you spread wide even as Matthew dropped down and made you squirm as his hot breath fanned across your glistening core. 

As your lips parted in a gasp, staring down at Matt as he dipped down to kiss your puffy pearl, in your periphery you just managed to spot how everyone’s free hand had found the tent in their pants, squeezing it for an ounce of relief as they watched you intently. 

When Matt’s tongue lapped through your petals, it wasn’t till he tilted his chin and sucked your clit into his mouth that your gaze fluttered up to find Marc’s across the room. 

“O-oh, fuck,” you moaned into the cottage, “I need–, I–, I need more–,” the plea left your lips as you tried to keep your stare lock. Though the love pecks felt incredible, it was bordering the line of crude torture, only tickling at your senses and not granting you the sweet relief the deepest depths of you yearned for so fiercely. 

It seemed like an eternity that Marc took to get up from his seat and actually cross the small room, though when he did, his palm briefly patted Matthew’s shoulder and caused the kisses to cease. 

“How much more, princess?” Marc asked as Matt got up and let him switch places. 

Though when your answer came in the form of your gaze dropping to his hard length, freed and heavy in his tight fist, one of the men holding you up murmured in your ear, “you want him to fuck you, huh? Is that what you want?” Frank’s deep timbre seeped directly into your bones as his lips dipped down to nip at your neck. 

“Uh-huh,” you nodded hazily, keeping your eyes glued as Marc stepped up and briefly swept the bulbous head of his cock through your folds. 

For a second, you thought it had been Marc himself who had slowly thrust his entirety inside of you, though in actuality when Miguel and Frank’s hold on you tightened, they’d been the ones to tilt your body just as the girth caught your entrance, and lower you down on it in one fell motion. 

“There you go, Snow,” Bucky breathed as your eyes fluttered at the stretch. Halting his palming of himself, Bucky’s hand soothingly swept up the length of you till it found your tit and cupped it gently, his calloused thumb stretching up to flick against your pebbly nipple and get your eyes to blink back open. 

Marc’s efforts were purposely slow and he gently began to warm you up for what you expected was in store. Though on one of his long and deep strokes, plunging all the way inside of your little pussy before yanking himself out completely, you only blinked and when your eyes fluttered back open, it wasn’t Marc’s cock that was buried deep within you, but instead the last man to join the fray. 

“S-Steve, o-oh!” your head tilted back slightly as his fat girth split you open. 

“Oh, how do you always feel better than I recall?” Steve groaned, the tip of him already bumping against your cervix. 

“It’s that fucking princess pussy,” Thor grunted, “I swear it’s like magic or something.” 

“No matter how many of us try and fit inside of you at once, we just can’t ruin you,” Miguel kissed your cheek, “you just snap right back and we have to stretch you all the way back out again.” 

Steve, Marc and Matt before you then took turns, fucking you slowly and building a rhythm till they became like a river, each of them only sinking in and letting their balls tap against your slick skin before they pulled back out and let the other one take a dive. As the silky pattern pushed you closer to the peak and made you dazed out of your mind, you stopped being able to tell who was fucking you when, as they all just flowed together and worked your body as one soul being. That was often how it was with your seven miners. In certain moments, they just became something else, something entirely different and much more ethereal than seven mortal men, but instead fused together into a sea of love that they let you float in. 

Once your first of many orgasms washed over you and rocked through your soul, your body was set back down, though only for a mere moment before Bucky picked you up into his arms and carried you with him as he lowered himself onto one of the long benches that stretched out on either side of the dining table. 

As he settled you atop of him and slipped inside your still throbbing cunt, your head tilted up in the direction of the men whose hard lengths were still glistening with your juices and your hands fluttered up to motion for them, grabbing for their girths, way before your fingers could reach them, though when they did, Steve didn’t let your touch linger on himself but instead plucked up your face and parted your lips with his cock, letting your hands take care of Matt and Marc on either side of him while he gently fucked your mouth. 

“Oh, shit,” Frank then appeared before you, wedging himself in beside Steve’s bulky form, “share some of that sugar,” his palm found your cheek and stroked it softly. As your lips left Steve with an audible pop, Frank’s fingers drifted up to bury themselves in your locks before he guided you to him and groaned as he finally felt you swallow his cock, “yes…”

However, what you didn’t expect was how Steve’s hand too fluttered up to tangle itself in the other side of your hair before they both took over your head’s movements, passing you back and forth between the both of them, though only granting themselves one long bob at a time.  

When a pair of fingers softly swept over the last of your holes, your eyebrows knit together at the familiar teasing. 

“What do you say, Snow?” you heard Thor utter from behind you as he brought his palm down to smack the curve of your ass, watching intently as Miguel’s fingertips rub against you, only shyly dipping inside the hole just above where Bucky split you open, “exactly how much more are you in the mood for today?”

And when you took your chance to catch your breath, you shot back your needy answer through your heaving intakes of air, “all of it.” 

It wasn’t till Miguel let out a gravelly groan that you knew which one had gotten the chance to claim your ass first. When a dollop of his spit landed upon your skin, his thumb wasted no time to soar up and rub it in, swiping over your little rosebud as it stretched to take his girth. 

The task of keeping up your attention to the four miners at your head became an impossible task as they gave your mouth a break for your breathless moans to flow freely and they instead came to your aid and helped guide your hands around to grant them all a bit of affection. 

With both of your holes snuggly filled up, you felt yourself near the edge once more, though it was Thor who pushed you over it as his hand coiled around your waist and snaked down to find your swollen clit in a lavish pattern. 

Though when you buried your face in the crook of Bucky’s neck and trembled between his and Miguel’s burly forms, Thor’s touch dissipated and though you half expected him to join the rest up top, it still didn’t manage to surprise you what he opted for instead. 

“Holy shit!” you shakily gasped, your palm nearly slapping Bucky in the chest as you felt Thor angle himself behind you and press his cock in beside Miguel’s, who’s dick was already more than enough for you to handle on its own. 

“Shh,” Bucky tilted your chin down for you to catch his eye, “don’t act like this is your first time, princess,” he kept his own pace selfish as the silky wall parting him from the rest grew thinner than ever, “you can take it,” his palm tapped your cheek lightly as he smiled at how you overcame the staggering sensation, “just as you always do.” 

And take it you did, soon gushing all over them as the three miners emptied themselves into your holes, pumping you full and leaving you a leaky mess for the remainder to enjoy while they all found a seat to relax in and watch you descend further into madness. 

It was Frank who then flipped your molten form around, planting himself on the very same bench, and twisted you around for your back to be melting down against his front. He slipped in effortlessly as the two loads that dripped out of your ass aided his fat girth as he buried himself completely, fucking the other miner’s cum that much deeper inside your utterly wrecked hole. 

“How’s she doing, huh?” Steve asked as he and Matthew stepped up between your parted legs, his fingers coasting down to spread open and inspect your pussy as it too leaked, “you think she can take a bit more? You think she can take on the two of us?” he briefly pumped two of his fingers into your quivering hole as he awaited your answer. 

“I–, you can try,” you panted, hazily blinking down at how Matt’s digits too came down between your thighs and began to draw rude patterns over your puffy pearl, “I don’t know if I can do it, but you can try.”

“Atta girl,” Matt flashed you a smile before each of their touches was traded out for something much more overwhelming. 

With Marc as the last one remaining above your head, he stayed patient and simply stood there, stroking your hair and even dipping down to press his lips to your cheek as your poor pussy struggled to take the two cocks your loves attempted to ease in there. Though, when your eyes widened at the eventual success, the man behind you only let you stare at the severe stretch a moment before he tilted your head back, supporting it with both of his hands as you caught on and parted your lips for him. 

As he fucked your face, one of his hands briefly swept down to your throat as he fed you more of his length and spotted how a dull bulge of him appeared each time you gagged around his girth. 

You felt as if you’d slipped into a trance by the time everyone had gotten the chance to cum inside your sweetness, yourself falling apart around them enough times that you lost count. Though even so, as you layed there, various burly men enveloping your half-continuous form in their warmth, your eyes blinked open and spotted the few who’d gotten the privilege to go first and how they’d at some time grown hard once again and were now pumping their cocks in their fists, with all of their greedy gazes glued on you.  

The seven miners always warned you to be careful while they were off at work and you were all alone in the secluded cottage. Even though it was located in the middle of the woods, they still advised you not to open the door for anyone, not even if their looks deceived you. 

You should have heeded those warnings the day when an old hag knocked at the cabin door, because she didn’t turn out to be just a sweet old lady as you had thought when you first spotted her through the window, dark cloak drawn up over her grey hair as she clutched onto a heavy basket of apples in one arm and thumped her free fist against the front door. 

All she’d asked for had been a sip of water, one your kindness couldn’t deny her of. 

Though your gravest mistake came when you accepted her seemingly kind offer of gratitude in the form of one of her apples, because when you sank your teeth into the crisp red fruit, the produce suddenly turned rotten in your grasp, granting you a brief glance of the truth, of the potent poison it withheld, before the effects took ahold and cast you into an eternal slumber. 

The enchanted sleep however wasn’t like the one you’d heard tales about as it in truth only shut down your body as the rest of your senses still stayed awake, alert and aware as ever to the things around you, though forever helpless to whatever could occur. 

When your dear miners returned that day, the sight that found them utterly broke them all. 

And when they discovered that you’d received a fate worse than death, a few of them had to lean on superstition in order to cope. 

Though superstition was what superstition often is, just a fairytale. 

No matter how many of them attempted to press their lips to yours, you stayed asleep as true love’s kiss turned out to be no more than a bedtime story. 

That’s how you ended up in a blossoming glen, not far from the cottage that had grown to become your home, encased in a glass coffin. 

But that’s also how he found you again…

Prince Billy had been on a hunting trip the day he stumbled over the clearing you rested in, his deepest desires he’d assumed forever lost, so perfectly on display for him in the middle of the woods and with no one to stop him from taking you with him back to his castle. You had been his fiancé after all, so if your fate as his wife included you being a little less of an active participant than you’d been previously, then so be it. He could be content with you as nothing but a living doll… in fact, perhaps the royal even preferred it… 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[bellaxgiornata]

You Promised

Pairing: husband!Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings/tags: 18+; shower smut, oral m!receiving, that damn crucifix necklace, and a little bit of choking

Summary: Matt is a giver, he always has been. He's also terrible when it comes to asking for what he wants–but that changes tonight.

a/n: I was inspired by the Born Again trailer shower scene, like everyone else, but I tried to resist writing anything with all the smut already coming out. But after poor Matt was pleasuring everyone else in showers all week, I figured he needed his turn in the shower. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Hot steam filled the air around you, fogging up the glass of the shower door. Only half of you remained beneath the spray of the showerhead as warm, wet droplets trailed down your back in rivulets. A chill seeped into you from the inside out at the contrast of Matt's damp and slightly cool body pressed to the front of yours.

Matt was usually always so deliciously warm, but the difference in temperature between him and the water cascading down the back of you had long since caused your nipples to stiffen. With your breasts currently crushed against his firm chest, you knew that sensation alone was driving him wild because you knew how much he enjoyed toying with your nipples–with either his mouth or his fingers. But tonight you were aiming to do more than just drive him wild; you wanted him to fall apart. You wanted him to stand there with his back against the tiled wall of the shower while he let you take care of him. You wanted to hear him crying out in ecstasy like he always made you, and you wanted him to be the one to vocalize what he wanted for once–what he needed.

Because after all, he'd promised you that tonight.

Mouth attached to his neck, you sensually sucked at the skin just below his jaw. It was a spot that you knew from past experience always had an effect on him, which was proven when he loosed a soft whimper just above your ear. The noise drew your lips into a smile against him, releasing the skin from your mouth before shifting over towards the chain of his crucifix. You nipped at the sensitive skin above it with your teeth, satisfied when his head finally dropped back against the shower wall behind him with a groan, giving you further access to his neck. Your tongue slid out between your lips, the tip of it dragging along him, teasing him as you tasted the bit of salty sweat still lingering on his skin from his night out in the suit.

As your mouth paid careful attention to his neck, your left hand continued to attentively roam his body. It traveled up through the hair along his forearm, the tips of your nails catching the fine, dark hairs beneath them before dragging their way past his bicep and towards his toned chest still slick from the shower's spray. But your right hand remained busy brushing across the dampened and sensitive skin just above his cock, right at the start of where his thick, dark pubic hair formed. You'd been intentionally making slow passes from left to right and back again with your flattened palm for a few minutes now, your mouth trailing slow, tender kisses that followed the length of the gold chain as you took your time. 

Matt's cock had long since stirred awake beneath your attention. It had been noticeably pressing harder and harder into your thigh, begging you not to be ignored. But that's exactly what you were doing right now. Because Matt was supposed to be telling you what he wanted tonight–learning to say what he needed instead of always giving and giving. You wanted him to learn that he could also take.

This was about him.

“Sweetheart,” Matt whispered. “Please?”

Nuzzling your face into his neck, you brushed your nose back and forth along his pulse point. You weren't going to make this easy for him because he needed to learn to use his words and  verbalize what he wanted. You wanted to hear him say it for once; he needed to learn once and for all that he was allowed to want things too.

Matt's hands which had been settled along your hips suddenly gripped the damp flesh when the tip of your nose bumped into his jaw, his hands yanking you somehow closer to him. A shudder ran up your spine in response, goosebumps dotting your skin as the warm water overhead continued to race down your back. His tight hold on you had felt good, reminding you of all the times he'd bent you over the back of the leather couch or the bed as he fucked you with such vigorous fervor. Wetness that had nothing to do with the shower dripped down between your thighs. 

But he wasn't supposed to be doing that to you.

“Matty,” you warned. “You promised, remember?”

“But sweetheart,” Matt protested, his voice pitching up into a whine. “I can't. I just–just need to taste you. Let me taste you, please, angel?”

You withdrew your face from his neck, your right hand pausing its movement above the patch of his damp pubic hair and instead resting along his skin. “What you need to do is let me take care of you, Matt,” you reminded him. “This isn't about me. You're supposed to be telling me what you want tonight.”

A defeated groan flew from his lips, his head once more falling back against the tiled wall behind himself as he loosened his grip on your hips, his blunt nails no longer deliciously biting into your skin. You felt an uncontrollable heat stir inside of you at the sight of him before you now, though. His eyes were closed, his bearded jaw tensed as he clearly fought his own urge to push you back into the tile instead. You had no doubt he was struggling with the increasing scent of your arousal filling the shower. You knew the effect it always had on him. But you didn't want him between your thighs like that, not tonight. 

“That's it, Matty,” you praised, enjoying the way the corners of his lips twitched. “That's my good Devil.”

You leaned back in towards his neck, placing a soft kiss just below his jaw. You felt a shudder race through him, a faint whimper slipping out between his lips. 

“Now tell me–” you whispered into his skin, moving your mouth lower to place a gentle kiss at the base of his throat, “–what you want.”

Your mouth moved lower, taking the gold crucifix between your teeth and giving it a light tug along his neck. Glancing up, the gold cross still between your teeth, you were pleased to see his eyes had tightened further shut. He was going to cave soon, you could feel it in the way his muscles had tensed against the front of your body. Your right hand dipped a bit lower, the tips of your fingers brushing lightly past the base of his cock.

“Touch me,” he begged, finally breaking. “I need you to touch me, sweetheart. Please.”

Dropping the crucifix from your teeth, it fell back onto his chest just as your right hand gripped the girth of him. A satisfied smile spread across your lips as you gazed back at Matt. His eyes had opened, their focus somewhere just past your shoulder as a flush crept into his cheeks. Your hand began to stroke him, thumb intentionally circling the tip of him when you’d reached it.

“This good, Matty?” you whispered. 

“A little faster,” he replied, voice tight. 

Following his instruction, your hand quickened its pace, your thumb occasionally pausing to circle the sensitive spot along his head. It wasn’t long before a deep rumble vibrated straight from his chest and right into yours. You felt your cunt pathetically squeeze around air, a thrill shooting through you. Matt’s bottom lip immediately caught between his teeth as he attempted to stifle a soft cry that still managed to escape his mouth. You knew he'd heard that and you knew he was struggling to refrain from slipping his fingers inside of you in return. Instead, his hands had once more increased their pressure against your hips, the heat of them hard to ignore as they nearly burned your skin.

“What else do you want, Matthew?” you questioned.

Your hand continued to stroke his cock as you waited for his reply. With every few pumps of your fist around him, you caught the way his hips would occasionally jolt forward into you. A pleased hum sounded in your throat. This was getting closer to what you'd wanted to see. 

“Kiss me,” he ordered. 

Without wasting a second, your other hand left its place along his chest and grabbed him by the chin. You tugged him towards yourself, connecting your lips to his in a heated passion. The beard he’d recently grown and you’d quickly come to love pleasantly scratched against you as your mouths moved in sync, the feeling beginning to drive you a little over the edge. As if he could tell, Matt’s mouth began attacking yours more earnestly, a low moan sliding into your mouth when your tongue slid into his.  

The kiss quickly grew into something desperate, growing need causing Matt to begin roughly biting at your lips with his teeth. Taking cues from the way he’d begun rutting forward into your hand, you increased the pace with which you continued to work him over. But when your thumb swiped across the sensitive tip of his cock this time, Matt broke away from your lips and another deep moan barrelled straight out of his chest, echoing around the tiles of the shower.

“Ah–fuck ,” Matt ground out between his teeth. “Need more.”

Breathing hard, your eyes met his darkened ones. His chest was heaving against yours, his own breath coming in sharp pants now. His gaze was fixed around your chin, a fierce look of desire burning inside of them. You relished the sight of it because this was a Matt you had not often seen before.

“Tell me what you need,” you whispered. “Go on.”

“Mouth,” he nearly growled out. “Your mouth.”

“Like this?” you asked, feigning innocence. 

You leaned down towards his collarbone, dragging the flat of your tongue across the length of it as your right hand finally came to a stop. Looking up at him from beneath your lashes, you watched as his eyelids fluttered, a muscle tensing in his cheek. 

“Or like this?” you breathed out.

Trailing a few open-mouthed kisses just a bit further down, you paused to clamp your teeth onto part of his chest, right beside his nipple. A hiss of pleasure shot out between Matt’s teeth in response and you grinned at the sound.

“Is that what you meant, Matt?” you asked coyly.

You watched as his throat bobbed with a hard swallow, his head shaking once.

“No,” he ground out.

“Then Matty–” your tongue delicately swiped at his hardened nipple, your pleased smile growing when he squirmed against you, “–say it.”

“Sweetheart,” he whined in protest. “Don’t you want me to get you off? Wouldn’t–wouldn’t you enjoy that?”

“Oh, I’m enjoying this plenty,” you assured him. 

His eyes snapped shut when your lips sucked his nipple into your mouth next, your tongue swirling around the peak. You could feel his cock throbbing in your right hand where it had remained motionless, waiting for him to finally say what you knew he wanted. For a minute he remained silent instead, continuing to squirm against the shower wall as you lapped at his nipple. Eventually a string of curses passed his lips in a rush the moment your teeth raked over him.

“I want your mouth on my cock,” he growled out, his voice bordering on the Devil’s deep snarl. “I want you swallowing my cum.”

Releasing his nipple from your mouth, you shot him a satisfied smile as you gradually began to lower to your knees before him in the shower. Dragging the nails of your left hand down his torso as you went, you delighted in the way his abdominal muscles twitched at your touch.

“There you go, Matty,” you purred. “There’s my big bad Devil.”

Sitting on your knees, you were finally face to face with Matt’s erect cock. Hands running up and down his thick thighs, you licked your lips in anticipation as you admired the sight before you. He rarely ever let you suck his cock because he was always too busy fucking you with it if his mouth wasn’t damn near glued to your cunt. But now it was all yours to enjoy, and you were going to revel in every sound that passed his beautiful lips as you did.

Right hand gripping the base of him, you leaned forward and lightly circled your tongue around the tip. Above you, Matt emitted a throaty groan, the sound raising the small hairs on the back of your neck. Refraining from lunging forward and taking him all at once, you licked up the length of him painfully slow with the flat of your tongue, wondering just how good that had felt with his senses when his head slammed back into the shower wall with a soft thump as he inhaled sharply between his teeth.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he panted out. “Don’t stop.”

As you continued to lightly lick up the length of him, Matt’s breathing began to fill the shower as it came in sharper and faster. The sound was unexpectedly building the heat between your legs, your left hand unable to resist slipping between your thighs. Eyes slowly closing, two of your own fingers began circling your clit, your back arching at the jolt of pleasure that raced up your spine. No longer able to resist, you took him into your mouth, a soft moan vibrating around his cock.

You felt something brush gently against your cheek and your eyelids fluttered back open. Once more looking up from beneath your lashes, you saw Matt’s head had tilted forward along the tiled wall. He was staring down at you with hooded eyes and a crease between his dark brows as his hand tenderly stroked your cheek while you sucked his cock.

“Are you–touching–yourself?” he asked between heavy breaths. 

Unable to respond verbally, you hummed in answer. A sharp whine fell out of Matt next, your fingers increasing their pressure against yourself as you observed his reaction. Focusing your attention on the head of his cock, you felt Matt’s hand slide its way down your cheek and past your jaw until it encircled your neck. He squeezed with just enough pressure for you to feel it, a resounding growl filling the steamy shower as he did.

“Put two fingers inside of yourself,” he suddenly ordered. “Now.”

A ripple of satisfaction flooded you. Obeying his command, you slid your fingers between your damp folds before slipping them inside of yourself.

“I want to hear you–” he broke on a moan, his head once more falling back against the shower wall. “Want to hear you fuck yourself with them.”

Kneeling on the floor at Matt’s feet, you continued to suck his cock with a renewed enthusiasm while your fingers began to pump in and out of yourself, the wet sound loud even to your own ears. You could tell Matt was getting close now by the way his thighs had begun to shake and how frequently you’d started hearing his broken whines above you. The walls of your cunt tightened around your fingers at that knowledge, another one of your moans vibrating around his cock.

“Ahh–” he hissed out. “Can almost taste you from here.”

“Mmm,” you hummed in answer, aware how much he always enjoyed the vibration.

“Shitshitshit,” Matt breathed out in an unbroken string immediately. “That’s it sweetheart, just like that. I'm–almost there.”

You continued to pump your fingers faster into yourself, your own legs trembling along the floor of the shower. Matt's hips began to visibly fight the urge to rock forward into you, causing you to take him further into your mouth with a pleased hum. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Matt groaned, his voice breaking on each word. “Just–like– that!”

On the final word, you felt Matt’s warm release flood your mouth. Not remotely letting up as a high-pitched, drawn out cry flew out of him, his hand still gripping your neck, you worked him through the rest of his climax. Greedily you swallowed down every salty bit of him like you’d been starved for the taste. You weren’t sure when he’d allow you the pleasure of this again, and that thought had you soon cumming on your own fingers, one last pleasured moan vibrating along him as he filled your mouth.

When both of you were finally spent, a haze of contentment washed over you along with the warm shower spray. Slipping your fingers out from inside yourself, you released his cock from your mouth with a soft, wet noise. Licking your lips, your attention returned to Matt’s face above you, and you were delighted to find a blissful, pacified smile drawn over his own lips.

“So, was that worth keeping your promise?” you asked him.

“Mmm,” he hummed back, nodding his head sluggishly. “Mhmm. Maybe I should promise that more often.”

“You absolutely should,” you agreed.

Slowly rising back up to your feet, you felt satisfied to see the way he was leaning back against the wall behind himself–as if he needed it to help hold himself upright. After his night out as Daredevil and that explosive release he'd just had, you figured he probably did.

“But I think now,” you continued, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him away from the wall and into your arms, “you’ve earned your shower and some sleep. What do you think?”

Matt’s arms encircled your waist in return, his forehead coming to rest lightly against yours as the pair of you both now stood beneath the showerhead. He bumped his nose affectionately against yours, his tired smile growing further.

“I think that sounds like a great idea, Mrs. Murdock,” he whispered.

Matt Murdock One Shot/Shorts Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @sleepysleepymom @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1 @scriptedmoon @ethereal-blaze @lucienofthelakes @sarahskywalker-amidala @flowher @loves0phelia @a-half-empty-g1rl

[400badrequest]

a bit presumptious | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

SUMMARY: Mr Murdock is a good boss - it's not his fault that you day dream about him fucking you.

WORD COUNT: 4.6K

cw: enthusiastic cunnilingus, gratuitous smut, office sex, age difference

A/N: ik i spelt the title wrong this is a cross post from AO3 here

Interning for Nelson and Murdock was supposed to be good. Well, it was, but it was exhausting. While it was definitely better than the other less ethical options there was always so much to do. Your desk was constantly buried in paperwork no matter how late you stayed, things to be sorted, filed, signed by Mr Murdock (“Please. I know I’m older than you, but Matt is fine.”) or Mr Foggy (“Better than being called Mr Nelson!”). You were beginning to understand why Karen said fuck it and decided to pursue a journalistic career. It didn’t help that the heating was always broken and that even with your scarf and stockings you were still freezing your nips off. 

“Mr Foggy left some files on your desk before he left for his date,” You tell Matt when he arrives from the cold outside, watching as he tugged off his bulky coat. “Said that Detective Sergeant Mahoney wanted a second opinion on them.”

The wind had left his soft hair tousled, and he huffs a little as he runs his fingers through it in an attempt to fix it - you bite back a laugh as he somehow manages to make it worse. “Thank you,” Matt says softly, a gentle smile on his lips. “I can’t believe Foggy and Marcy’ve been together for two years now.”

You can’t help but watch as he takes his glasses off to wipe the rain off them, immediately locking onto his soft, unfocused eyes. He rarely took them off around you and tended to slip them back on when you entered a room. Foggy had explained once that he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with the empty vacant look that they always had, glazed as he looked slightly past you - and you’d never really quite known how to tell him you didn’t mind.

“They’re cute,” you offer as he walks past you to his office. “Mr Foggy said something about um- Danny being an angel? They’re going to the Met for dinner.”

“ Danny?” Matt says from the doorway of his office. “That’s one hell of an anniversary date.” There’s a fond chuckle in his voice as he turns around. “Ow.”

“You okay?” You stand up quickly, heels clicking as you dash to his office. He waves you off, hand resting on the edge of the corner of his table, fingers rubbing at the corner. Your breath stutters as you can’t help but watch as his index and middle finger part over it, circling slowly.

“Bumped the desk,” he admits. 

“Oh uh- that’s my fault,” you say, embarrassment colouring your voice. “I ran into it when I put the paperwork on your desk - I completely forgot to move it back, I’m so sorry-”

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” he chuckles softly, shifting the table back. “Accidents happen.”

You can’t help but hover awkwardly in the doorway as he sits at his desk. The only light filtering into the room is from the dandelion yellow street lamp outside, peeking through the slats of the open shades. Shadowy impressions of rain trace their way down Matt’s face, tinted glasses almost black. Your eyes trail down with a droplet that slips down the window, following as its dark echo dancing down his throat and shirt, until it disappears into the shadow hidden behind his desk. He hums, fingers tracing the braille of the file. 

“Do you want coffee?” You blurt. “I- yeah. I need coffee. I’ll get you some-”

You turn on your heel and beeline for the tea station that Karen had set up ages ago. Matt’s chuckle follows you while you click on a new pot of coffee.

It made you feel like a perv - tracing your eyes across him when he’s across the room, watching his hands flex when he held his coffee cups, staring at his scruff when he smirked. Foggy sometimes stifled laughter at your rising flush whenever Matt pressed his hand to your lower back to move you out of the way, or to figure out his way around an unknown space. It was even worse when it felt like Matt had caught you, head sometimes tilting in your direction when you looked. You knew he couldn’t see you, but still. 

You sigh as you slump against the counter, fighting the want to bury your head in your hands and scream. The crush you were fostering on your boss was just a crush (at least that’s what you told yourself). It stemmed from admiration - Matt was so terrifying and silver tongued in court, but kind and soft spoken to clients. And it didn’t help that he liked to act like he cared about you sometimes; making sure you were sleeping, eating, draping his coat on you when it got too cold, tsking softly and exasperatedly when you prioritised studies over basic needs.

It wasn’t helpful either that you’d seen the types of women he went for - slim, willowy and assertive. You… you weren’t that. You didn’t have the genetic gifts of mile long thin legs and a godly metabolism. Your tummy pressed up against your pants whenever you tucked your button downs in, and the insides of your thighs rubbed together when you walked. Marcy said it made you a real woman, not some waif - but that didn’t stop you from believing that despite his lack of sight, Mr Murdock would somehow know.

Giving in, you groan into your elbow as the pot dings, giving yourself a single minute. Then, you straighten your blouse, pour two cups - both with milk, one with sugar - and walk back to Matt’s office. 

“Coffee,” you say, putting it on his desk, careful not to place it on any paper. “6 o’clock, 7 and a little bit inches.”

Matt hums as he grabs it smoothly. “You’ve gotten better at that,” he praises and you flush as you lean in the doorway, trying to ignore how hot the coffee is as it burns down your throat. 

“I’m trying,” You reply, a grin in your voice. “Helps that you’re easy on the eyes.”

“What?” Matt startles with a laugh, looking up at you with a raised eyebrow. “Uh-” you stumble over your words. “I mean- like- as in y'know- um-” A small grin starts to curve at Matt’s mouth. “I watch you.”

“You watch me.” He rises at that, hands braced on the table. It’s starting to spread into a proper smirk.

“Wait, no, not like that.” You say, affronted. “As in like- uh- watching how you do things, how you move so I can make it easier.”

“Mm, really.” There’s a chuckle weaved in his words. “ That’s what you mean by ‘easy on the eyes’?”

“Yes,” you squeak, lie tumbling out. “Absolutely.” You can feel your palms start to sweat, and it is not from the heat of the cup in your hands. Somehow, Matt has managed to get around the table, now leaning on it with his ankles crossed, hand braced behind him. You can’t stop your eyes tracing from his dress shoes, up to his belt and hovering there before your gaze crawls to his face. Matt’s head is cocked slightly to the side, as if listening to something. 

“So the way you’re undressing me with your eyes has nothing to do with you finding me attractive?” 

“Jesus Christ, how did you-?”

“I’m blind, not stupid,” Matt says with a smirk, and you can’t help but swallow thickly at how the shadows cut across his front, biceps tight in his dress shirt. 

“Never said you were,” you reply weakly. 

“Vision isn't the only sense that humans have, you know." He says wryly.

“I know that!”

"Do you?” His voice is teasing as he steps forward. “From the sound of your voice, the way you walk, how you always swallow when I touch you - I don’t need sight to know what you like.” You can’t stop the shiver that runs up your spine as he takes the cup from your hand, placing it on a filing shelf. “I can feel the heat coming from your body, the way it radiates off you."

Your head bonks against the door frame as you groan, face colouring with fluster and embarrassment. “Shush. Shut up, sir.” You grumble, doing your best to not look at him. 

His voice is tinged with amusement as he talks. "What's the matter?”

“C’mon sir,” You whine a little. “You’re being unfair.”

"I never knew I could cause you to have a crisis by just speaking." Matt murmurs. You can smell his laundry powder - it’s faintly floral. For a moment you’re glad he’s blind, knowing he can’t tell you’re staring at the soft curve of his bottom lip. 

"I- fucking- I’m going home,” You rush out. "I can't do this. I can't do feelings, feelings for my boss " You moan, face hot with what feels like shame. Maybe it’s arousal. 

“Wait." Matt murmured, the tone of his voice taking on a more serious edge. A small frown pulled at his lips. "You don't have to go. We can just ignore this entire conversation - forget it even happened." His voice is genuine, gentle and concerned. “Please.”

You swallow thickly, having to tilt your head up to look up at him, door frame digging into your spine. 

When you don’t speak or move, a smile lifts the corner of his mouth. His step forward is quiet, and even with your back already against the frame, you can’t help but push into it a little more. “What do you want?” He murmurs softly, gently cupping your hands with his. The calluses of his palms are rough against your smooth knuckles, the contrast jarring. 

“I- I don’t-” You stutter, voice caught in your throat. What the fuck was happening?

His thumb lightly brushed against the palm of your hand, gentle and comforting as he felt across your love line. 

Matt took another step closer, so close you could nearly feel his breath on your cheek, his firm chest gently pressing against the swell of your breasts. 

"What do you want?" He repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

You let out a small whimper, looking up at the scruff on his jaw, the aged lines on his face, the greys starting to grow at his temples. Matt- Mr Murdock was much older, more experienced. There was the faint sparkle of greys in the stubble around his mouth too. 

Without a word, he reached up and gently cupped your soft jaw in his hand. The pad of his thumb gently stroked across your cheek, and you did your best to breathe as he tilted your face up to meet his unseeing gaze behind his glasses. A flush had warmed your face - he could feel the vestiges of innocence in the curve of your face. 

You could tell that even through the darkened shades he was doing his best to focus all of himself on you. Your heartbeat thumped hard in your throat - hard enough that he could feel it on the fingers curled gently around your jaw. 

He leaned in slightly, his breath ghosting over your skin. "Just tell me what you want," he whispered again, his voice low and husky, a tinge of pleading in his tone.

"Please," You whisper, tilting your face up. " Please."

"Please, what?" He tilted his head to the side. He was so close, his lips almost brushing against yours. He could smell the sweat and desire on you, you were sure of it. "Tell me what you want," he said again, his voice almost guttural. Your eyes flutter shut on instinct - from need or shyness, you don’t know. Your free hand twists into the doorframe. 

You know he can’t see you. But at that he groans and holds you still as he presses a firm full kiss on your waiting mouth. It’s slow and gentle, and for a moment he just holds you there - until you groan just the tiniest bit.

It’s like a switch flips - he drops your other hand, gripping at your plush hip and presses you hard into the jamb, squishing your soft tits and the swell of your tummy into the muscled planes of his body. The hand that was once gentle on your face snakes up into your hair, tugging until it’s out and then tangling his fingers firmly at the base so he can manipulate your head so he can deepen the kiss into something wet and filthy. 

You gasp, pulling him in closer with the front of his shirt, scrambling for purchase as you twist your hands in the fabric. As your mouth opens, Matt licks in - he tastes like sweet coffee and spit and sin. A whimper leaves you, unbidden, as he continues to paw at your soft hips, body lighting up from the inside. You know your underwear is ruined as it sticks to your cunt, already dripping from the feeling of him on you. 

He made a groan of his own, the sound escaping low and deep in his throat. His face is flushed, eyes lidded as he pulls away, still holding you in place.

"Oh fuck-" You whine as he pull away, you bosom heaving against his solid chest. "What the fuck, come back-"

Matt wets his swollen lip, his breath heavy. You know that you probably look the same - if not worse. He leaned down and brushed his lips over the soft exposed skin of your neck, leaving soft, feather-like kisses as he used his grip in your hair to gently guide your head to the side. "So impatient," he teases.

At that you moan reedily. “Oh- Matt-”

His grip on your hip tightened, pulling you firmly against him. You squeak as your breasts squish into him, pelvis to pelvis - you can feel him thickening in his pants, a flush climbing your cheeks.

Matt’s lips rove lazily over your skin. He could feel your pulse flutter against his lips, racing harder and faster. You could feel his sharklike grin as he hummed softly against your skin. "Be patient," he chided, biting gently at your throat.

A strangled groan rips from you as you feel him slide the hand on your hip to your chest, gently palming your full tits. “Okay?” He murmurs quietly. You don’t have the brain to be embarrassed about the pudge of your tummy being smushed.

“ Yes,” you whine. “Yes, just- please, Matthew.”

That’s all it takes for him to break - his mouth is back on you, fierce and possessive. “Again. Say it again,” He demands between kisses. You hear a clatter - he’s ripped off his glasses, throwing them carelessly behind him.  

“Matthew,” you breathe out as you slide a hand so it's pressed against his firm abdomen, heel against your abs, fingers ghosting his belt buckle. Matt growls at that, dragging you to his desk roughly - papers and pens alike hit the floor. 

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He grinds out as he tugs open your pants. "Any?” “Matt-!” You squeak as he rips your blouse open, buttons flinging across the room. Your soft breasts sit heavy in your utilitarian bra, and he tuts when he feels it. His fingers are adept and nimble as they quickly unhook the back, wrenching it off - it skitters when it hits the wood floor. 

“ Fuck-” he bites out as he palms the dove soft, squishy flesh of your tits, roughly palming at your nipples. A small shriek pops out of your mouth when he twists a perk nipple, standing proud in the cold. In turn you start to fumble with his belt but he gently smacks your hand away, dropping to his knees.

“Matthew?” You ask confused - but he shoves his way forward, lifting one of your legs so it's hooked over his shoulder. Embarrassment floods your face when he mashes his face directly up against your clothed cunt.

“Matt!” you can help but protest, as he groans and you yelp as you feel him grab at the zip and rip your fucking pants so that your drenched panties are on display. “ Fuck,” He snarls, hands on your soft thighs, fingering at your stretch marks, kneading at them. “I can smell you from here.” Matt sounds enamoured, and he whines as he presses his nose to your soaked cunt, lapping at the cloth. 

“Oh my guh-” You can’t get the full word out - he shoves your panties to the side, latching onto your clit with his mouth and sucking. Your brain shorts out for a moment, all forms of conscious thought disappearing. His moans are almost as loud as yours when he finally unlatches to smack the flat of his tongue against your wet messy slit. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Matt whines, throaty and wrecked. Your heart stops for a moment when you look at him, where he’s cradled in your thighs - for the first time, you can see the proper softness in his unseeing gaze, the longing crease between his eyebrows. “Can I-”

“Yes, yes,” You rush out, nodding frantically. “ Please, Matthew.”

Normally, Matt was incredibly pedantic about making sure his partners knew what they were agreeing too - but you. You . You made him toss common sense on the window. He groans and shoves his face back into your slick cunt, ignoring your yelp when your legs are stretched open further to accommodate his broad shoulders. He stands so he can shove harder into your wetness, cheeks smearing your arousal everywhere. Spit and slick dribbles down your taint and arse and over Matt’s stubble - but he can’t find himself to care as he laps at you, trying to eat his fill. The rasp of his five o’clock shadow against your hole is sickeningly delicious. The smell of your arousal was so heady and intoxicating that he couldn’t even find it in him to be embarrassed at how desperate he was acting.

He can’t help but groan, realising you can barely see him over the chub of your mons and plush tummy. Your body is so delightfully soft and Matt can’t resist the urge to grab and paw at your soft pudge - your stomach, your padded hips, your thighs. The way your heart ticks faster when he starts grabbing at you only urges him on more. One of his hands drifts back to your swollen clit, still sensitive and puffy from being sucked on - your hand grabbing firmly at his hair when he starts deftly rubbing tight circles as it. The pulling and yowling seems to encourage him of anything, licking more firmly. 

The press of his fingers, the fingers you’d spent hours daydreaming about, finally press into your sloppy hole as he switches his mouth back to your clit. “Are you even breathing?” You can’t help but ask - the rumble of his laugh tells you he’s probably not doing it enough. “Oh fu-” Your back bows as he rubs methodically against the spongy bit at the roof of your cunt, stupid noises babbling out of you when you grip at his hair. “Ma- Matt, Matthew, oh God, oh o -”

His fingers stop moving as much, just pressing hard as your cunt starts to seize, your body curling tightly as your muscles tighten immensely at the precipice of your orgasm. Your clit twitches as the nerves under the skin continue to be abused by Matt’s mouth that was firmly suctioned to flesh directly under your soft mons. His nose was pressed into the flesh, squished happily into you. A hiccuped noise of pleasure rips out of you, reedy and desperate. “I- Plea-”

He doesn’t stop when you cum - he pulls his fingers out of you, yes, but he immediately starts lapping at your now puffy and leaky cunt like a dog, as if desperate to make sure he eats all of your dripping slick and cum. You shriek a little as he shifts you, licking at your taint to clean up all of it. “Mat- that- oh my god-”

“ Fuck , you’re such a good fucking girl,” Matt says, desperately out of breath. Your slick and his spit shines on the lower half of his face, and he doesn’t even attempt to wipe it off before standing and dropping his weight onto you to grab your face, kissing you wetly. You can taste your own thick arousal in his mouth, and can’t help but squeal when the seat of his pants bumps up against your sensitive sex.

“T-thank you-” You hiccup out between the press of his open mouth to yours. “I- please lemme-”

“Yeah sweetheart, hold on-” Matt rushes out as he tugs open his pants, groaning when his engorged cock slaps out against his stomach. It’s as large and as thick as the rest of him, nestled in a thatch of curls. Precum drops onto his shirt, and you can’t help but reach up and deftly unbutton it. Matt huffs a laugh at your gentleness - he’d all but ruined your blouse. Your eyes widen - you knew he was built and had some… rough history, but nothing prepares you for how the yellow street light dips and fills the curves of his trim muscles, the starkness of the thin gnarly scars that sit slashed across his full chest. 

“Jesus, Matt,” you exhale, fingers gently tracing them. His expression softens as he hears the concern taint your arousal. 

“I’m okay,” He murmurs, pressing his forehead to the roundness of your shoulder. His hands are gentle as he pulls you away from running your own over the scars - not to stop you, but to comfort. “It was a long time ago.”

You know there’s nothing you can say here - so you let him guide your face up so he can kiss you silly again, the head of his cock nudging at your cunt. Matt takes it slow, gently laying you out on the table so he can grip at your hips, revelling at the feeling of his fingers sinking into the soft padding. 

“You’re so soft,” He can’t help but murmur, kneading at your hips like a cat. The raised smoothness of your stretch marks feel like a soft pulled silk against Matt’s fingertips. “Feel so pretty…”

“Matthew,” you whine, face pinking. “That’s- you’re my boss, you can’t say that!”

Matt laughs at that - a little disbelieving. “Sweetheart, I just ate you out until you came on my face, and I’m about to fuck you raw. I think I’m allowed to appreciate how beautiful you feel under my hands.”

“Fair enough,” you gasp out as he rubs the fat head of his cock up and down your slit. Matt groans, eyes shut tight with his free hand kneading your plump hip. The heady heat of your dampened cunt makes his senses blur at the edges, the world narrowing down to the throb of your pussy. 

“Tell me I can fuck you,” Matt says, desperately, voice rough. “Sweetheart, please-”

“Yes, fucking damn it, Matthe- ah-”

Your breath catches as he notches the head of his cock into your cunt. It’s thick and hot, burning you from the inside out. “You can take it baby,” He grinds out, teeth clenched as he slowly slides all the way in. “There- there you go, good girl-”

You can’t help but gasp wetly as he bottoms out, eyes slamming shut as he gently starts rolling his hips. His heavy sac kisses against your taint and furled arsehole with each careful thrust as Matt carves a space in your cunt, slowly driving himself in harder and harder , until the table starts to shake with the force of it, your little ah, ah, ah ’s turning into gasped wails, as he whines into your shoulder. “Matthew-” you sob out as he grips tightly at your love handles so he can drag you onto his fat cock in time with his heavy thrusts. “Oh fuck- fuck-”

“So good,” Matt praises, strained as he pounds into you, hips snapping. He’d lowered himself onto you, his firmness pressing against your soft plush front. “Feel so good-” his tendons strain under your hands as you try to ground yourself by gripping at his wrist, spinning embarrassingly fast towards your orgasm. 

“It’s alright, c’mon,” Matt pants out - he noses under your ear. “Cum for me, please- cum for me sweetheart-”

The noise you let out is high and animal, desperate - your stomach tenses awfully and hard, legs shaking as your orgasm rips through you. Matt’s arms tighten around you as he murmurs softly in your ear, hips still rolling gently. “That’s it, that’s it-” His voice is strained and raspy. 

A wet sob gutters you. “Matthew, Matthew-”

Matt groans into your neck - you feel it when he cums, your throbbing cunt ripping the seed out of him. He chokes out a curse, his weight dropping down onto you, sweaty and pressing wet kisses onto your throat. “Good girl, you’re such a good girl.”

It’s like lying in a dense fog when Matt pulls out of you with a wet schlop. “Oh fuck,” You mumble, blinking hazily. Matt chuckles.

“Good?” He asks softly, free hand coming up to cup at your cheek, thumb running softly under your eye. You whimper a little - you can feel the slick and cum dripping out of your puffy wet cunt, pooling onto the table. Matt chuckles. “That good, huh?”

Before you can reply, Matt hums, slowly ducking his head back between your legs. “Matt-” He shushes you softly. “Let me clean up the mess, baby.”

His tongue is gentle as he laps at the mess between your thighs. Matt can’t help but groan at the smell, the bitter salty and heady taste. He’d missed this - being able to indulge in a sweet used cunt, a woman sobbing in pleasure above him. With work and his growing affection for you, he’d lost the want for casual sex. Father Lantom would’ve been proud. Matt locks his lips to your hole and sucks, swallowing down the mix of your cum and his. When your whines turn from pleasured to overstimulated, pained, Matt pulls away, with a final soft kiss to your puffy clit. Then a soft press of his lips to your thigh, and your hip. 

Matt looks like a damn vision when he looks at you - face flushed, hair sticking up in every direction. His smile is soft and heavenly as he gently eases you back into your pants, “Ah- sorry about your shirt, sweetheart,” He says sheepishly.

You can’t help but laugh a little. “You’re impossible,” You murmur, reaching forward and helping him button up his shirt - you’re still out of breath, and Matt’s skin is hot to the touch when you wipe the sweat off his brow. When he leans slightly into your touch, your heart stutters in your chest. Matt cocks his head a little, a small smile ticking at his lips, as if he can hear it. 

He hums, pressing a small kiss to your cheek - then your lips. “Hello,” Matt murmurs - his expression is soft, the street light seeping across his face like water colour paint on a wet page. 

“Hi,” You whisper, almost shy. Oh God, you’d just slept with your boss - your boss who was gently kissing your face as he dressed you. His hands are gentle on you, despite the rough pads of his fingers - like the rasp of sandpaper on silk. Matt chuckles. 

It had started to drizzle outside - the faint sounds of sleet hitting the roof soft and cold as a faint breeze sneaks in through the gaps in the windows. Matt doesn’t say anything - just grabbing his coat off the back of his chair and gently pulling the heavy material onto your shoulders as he tugs you into his lap. 

“Would it be presumptuous for me to take you out for dinner now?” Matt asks after a moment. A laugh startles out of you.

“Pretty presumptuous, yeah. But… I’d like that.”