#let’s just say Matt Murdock is one of them
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mylambandmartyr · 3 months ago
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Matt Murdock x
Penitent Mary Magdalene
The Virgin Mary
The Ecstasy of St. Teresa
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age-of-moonknight · 1 year ago
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Variant cover for Daredevil (Vol. 8/2023), #3 by Dustin Nguyen.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago
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boo! surprise bitches! i'm doing kinktober this year! finally doing it! bet you didn't see that one coming, did you hehe 🕸
there is a good mix of both short and long stories coming your way throughout this (and i will also still occasionally post other fics this month that aren't related to this). also, a handful of these fics are darker in nature, thought it was fitting for halloween, so remember to read the warnings, if there's something that's not for you then please, as always, be kind to yourself and don't read the story.
masterlist | join my taglist
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day one | sore
stepbro!sirius black x cheerleader!reader + dubcon massage
day two | don't smile
steve rogers + throat fucking + size kink
day three | stuffed
devil!eddie munson & angel!steve harrington + tentecles + double penetration in one hole
day four | a little fashion show
best friend!stiles stilinski + lingerie
day five | stay still
peter parker + bondage
day six | hold up, let me record this
jj maybank + tittyfucking + sextape
day seven | the palace guards
guards!poly!marauders x princess!reader + secrets relationship
day eight | it’s practically like we’re down there with them
mob boss!bucky barnes + exhibitionism
day nine | keep that pretty mouth shut
tommy shelby + keep quiet quickie
day ten | I couldn’t find it in me to wake you
poe dameron + somno thigh fucking
day eleven | I just want you a little longer all to myself
matt murdock + secret office sex
day twelve | nothing more than a toy
rafe cameron + using you like a toy to masturbate with
day thirteen | I still got a few rounds left in me
boxer!steve rogers + bathtub sex
day fourteen | open your fucking mouth
dark!wild west cowboy!joel miller + gun kink
day fifteen | tiny
miguel o'hara x fairy!reader + extreme size difference
day sixteen | the wall between us
cult member!steve harrington + fem glory hole + breeding
day seventeen | be a rebel, be bad, stay here and cuddle with me
spencer reid + aftercare
day eighteen | pleasant pile of pillows
brother's best friend!james potter + pillow humping
day nineteen | ring ring
sam winchester x reader x bf!dean winchester + phone sex + cheating
day twenty | window
perv!neighbour!billy russo + voyeurism
day twenty-one | say yes
fiancé!bruce wayne + possessiveness
day twenty-two | i can think of something better than that
bucky barnes + anal
day twenty-three | double check
dark!professor!ben solo + power imbalance + manipulation
day twenty-four | maroon
vampire!remus lupin + biting + blood kink
day twenty-five | i want you
pirate captain!miguel o'hara + sex as payment
day twenty-six | teamwork
pro football team!avengers (bf!steve rogers, bucky barnes, pietro maximoff, clint barton, sam wilson, tony stark, thor odinson) + gangbang
day twenty-seven | my little flower
din djarin + fantasy au + cockwarming
day twenty-eight | hysteria
doctor!aleksander morozova x hysteria patient!reader + historical au + fuck machine
day twenty-nine | can't fight the moonlight
werewolf!bucky barnes x gf!reader + predator/prey + monsterfucking
day thirty | magical mimic
eddie munson x witch!reader + magical mutual masturbation
day thirty-one | you can’t put it in
stepbro!peter parker + halloween pussyjob
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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bellaxgiornata · 3 months ago
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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!
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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.
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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
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peterman-spideyparker · 9 months ago
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Drunk on You (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Hey everyone! Court, aka @chvoswxtch, is a talented genius amazing superstar talent whose fic "ours." has consumed my mind all week and has inspired me. I hope I've done you proud, and I hope you like it! :)
Summary: Yours and Matt's relationship is still relatively new, but it's different in every conceivable way, and it's amazing. His plans for a nice romantic night in, however, get thrown for a loop before you arrive, and all he can think of is you.
Warnings: Fluff, Foggy and Karen being Foggy and Karen, shameless smut (talk of birth control and side effects, f!receiving oral, fingering, m!receiving oral, protected p in v sex, failed attempt at bondage, dirty talk, praise), swearing, these guys are basically soulmates, okay, they're in love and have thought about a future together and there's a whole detailed world for them in my head
Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, Karen Page
Word Count: 3,586
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Matt’s hands slide over his watch face for the time. “Do you guys think you can handle things here for the rest of the day?” he asks his friends.
“I think we can handle it,” Foggy hums, taking in the quiet office space around them. “You have a date with that girl, don’t you? Or is it a different one?”
“Nope, it should be the same girl,” Karen says. “It’s still within the time frame.”
Matt furrows his brows as he turns toward his friends. “Time frame?”
“Do we really need to go over this again, Mr. Serial Dater?” Foggy sighs. “How many girls did you see last year alone?”
“I don’t—.”
“Ten,” Karen supplements. “I mean, technically, it was nine because you dated the same girl twice, but they all fizzled out just as soon as they started. None of them lasted over two months.”
“And that’s not counting hookups we don’t know about. If my math is right, we’re almost at the two month mark in—.” Foggy turns to look at the calendar hanging on the wall to confirm. “—about a half of a week.”
“Thank you for the countdown, Father Time, but I don’t see that happening with her. She’s different.”
“Do we at least get her name? Since she’s so different than the others, that is,” Karen tries hopefully, and Matt can tell she’s eagerly biting her lip.
“(Y/N),” he concedes. “Her name is (Y/N). (Y/N/N).”
“Ooh, full name and a nickname. Are you treating (Y/N) to a fancy night out?” Foggy asks.
“Nope,” Matt grins, sliding on his jacket.
“Oh?” Karen hums. “Finally going to bring her to Josie’s?”
“So you guys can just happen to stroll in? No,” Matt continues to smile. “Not that it’s any of your business, but that’s where we met.”
“So, no fancy restaurant, no Josie’s . . .”
“I’m cooking for her at my place tonight. Happy now?”
Foggy and Karen ooh at him like a bunch of fifth graders.
“Well, here’s hoping she’s a heavy sleeper in case you hear a bank robbery across town and need to suit up.”
“Well, she knows.”
He can tell the way that they look at him, absolutely stunned. “Knows?” Karen repeats.
Matt puts his fingers up by his head to mimic his devil horns.
“EXCUSE ME?” Foggy shouts.
“It’s a long story, guys, and I have a dinner to prepare.”
“Let us know when the wedding is!” Foggy shouts as Matt leaves the office. “Knows . . . She knows! . . .”
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Matt finishes plating the food before lighting the candles on the table, blowing out the match as he freezes in his tracks. His senses are good—he can always tell when you’re near, even though you haven’t been seeing one another long. But this time, even though you’re about a block away, it feels like you’re so much closer. Your scent is much stronger than usual. It’s not perfume, shampoo, or detergent clinging to your dress—it’s you. Matt can practically taste you on his tongue when he lets out a deep breath through his mouth, and it drives him wild. His thoughts are fuzzy, and all he can think of is how he wants his hands on you, dragging over every dip and curve of your body right until he’s between—.
Matt practically jumps out of his skin when you rap at his door. With one more deep breath and a quick adjustment to his pants, he makes his way to the door, swinging it open and greeting you with a warm smile. As soon as the door is even open a crack, you drown his senses. He feels almost drunk, and he just wants you.
“Hi,” he smiles, leaning in for a kiss. You meet him halfway, pressing your front flush against his, resting a gentle hand on his waist. He pulls you in even further, desperately trying to deepen the kiss. You smile and giggle into the embrace before you lean back and look up at him.
“Hello to you, too,” you smile. “It smells really good in here, and you look like quite the chef with your sleeves all rolled up and a towel over your shoulder.”
“You like the look, hm?” he teases, closing the door close and kissing your neck some more as he walks you into the loft.
“I do. I like it so much, I almost dropped the bottle of wine I brought, especially if you keep kissing that spot.”
He pulls back and kisses the top of your head. “Well, I’m glad you’ve both survived this far.” Matt, on the other hand, is barely holding on. Every second that you’ve been here—the whole 90 of them—he’s had to restrain himself from jumping on you the way he so desperately wants.
“How about we sit first?” Matt hums, giving your arm a squeeze.
“You’ve plated everything. I’d hate for the food to get cold. This looks lovely.” You lean over, kissing his cheek. As your lips leave his skin, he turns into you, kissing you deeply before dragging his embraces down your neck and up to the sweet spot behind your ear, humming in delight as he takes you in and kisses your skin. You let out a soft moan, your knees buckling slightly as you lean into him and hold onto his body.
“‘m pretty sure that this is supposed to happen after dinner,” you swallow, your fingers desperately holding onto his arms.
“Dinner can wait. You smell too good,” he murmurs into your skin, taking the wine from your hand and putting it on the island.
“I—!”
You suck in a breath in surprise when his hands travel low and squeeze at your hips.
“You smell good,” he repeats, his voice dipping low. “Better than dinner—better than it tastes.”
Your hands have a mind of their own, moving up his arms, letting your fingers rake through his hair.
“Matt . . .” you breathe. He can sense how your heart races as you hold him close. 
“I can stop if you want to,” he hums, dragging his kisses down along your collarbone. “But I really don’t want to angel.”
You let out a sigh that goes straight to his cock. “I-I don’t have anything,” you tremble, and Matt notices a slight edge of something else in your voice. You sound a little nervous, but it’s not like the two of you haven’t had sex before. There’s been a few times where you’ve done just this—throw your date plans out the window to just spend the night exploring one another’s bodies over and over until you’re both so worn you turn into a tangled mess of limbs in bedsheets. And then it clicks for him. Your smell being extra strong, your elevated temperature, your racing heart, and now the slight nervous tremble in your voice. You’ve been together for two months, and he’s been with you around the time of your period, and even during your period, but as he wracks his brain to work on timelines, he’s positive there’s only one solution.
You’re ovulating.
And you know it.
Matt pulls back slowly, his hands still on your hips as you face him. He desperately works to find your eyes, even though he knows he’ll never be able to, not in the way he wants. 
“And you’re . . . you’re not on . . .?” He doesn’t want to finish the sentence—it makes him feel slimy asking that, but he wants to hear you say it rather than conclude based on assumption, even if that assumption is rooted in everything your body is telling him.
“I-I’m not,” you confirm. “The side effects and stories I’ve heard from friends . . .” You shrug. “It didn’t seem worth it. As contraception or a way to help with periods.” He senses another shift in you, but this one is different. You’re embarrassed, ashamed even. 
“Hey,” Matt says softly, kissing you tenderly. “It’s your body. You need to do what’s best for it.”
You nuzzle into his touch, and he lets out a little hum. “I just hate to have killed the mood. Especially since I smell so irresistible, apparently. And those kisses were pretty damn nice.”
Matt can hear how you smile while you speak when an idea comes to his mind.
“What’s that face?” you smirk, holding onto him adoringly.
“We can still keep the mood going. I mean, I have condoms, but, if you don’t want to use them, I have another idea. All you have to do is sit down and look pretty for me.”
You eagerly bite your lip, making Matt chuckle. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your lips before leading you to his bedroom.
“Sit down for me, angel,” he hums. “And spread your legs nice and wide for me.”
With a smile, you do as he asks as he softly kisses up your thighs, moving back and forth between each leg until he’s the apex, pressing a large open-mouthed kiss to your covered core. You take in a sharp breath as he slowly kisses and licks at you. For just how badly Matt wants you, he’s surprised and impressed with the restraint he’s showing. You whimper and moan as he begins to set his pace, one of your hands moving to his head and tugging on his hair, urging him to get closer. Between your arousal and his mouth, your panties are absolutely soaked within minutes. 
“Hey,” you whine as he removes his mouth from you. “I was enjoying that.”
“I know,” he grins, sliding his hands up your legs until his thumbs hook around your panties and slide them down your legs before tossing them up behind you on the bed. “Those are mine, now.”
You chuckle, your laughs turning into a moan when he reattaches his lips to your dripping core. Your sounds are louder, more unrestrained now that his lips are on your dripping ones. The way you squirm against Matt’s face only eggs him on, the rotations of your hips are only helping drive your scent further into his nose, injecting pure you into his body. Wet sounds fill the room, even with his face as buried deep as it is, and he can sense the way you lean back more and more until you’re flat on your back on the mattress, still managing to pull at his hair while he eats you out. You’re done for as soon as he slips two fingers in you. You tremble with an intense orgasm as you cry out so hard, Matt can tell it hurts your lungs a little. You squeeze his head with your thighs, and Matt uses his free hand to grip onto your hip and hold you closer, bringing him on the verge of suffocation by pussy—which wouldn’t be the worst way to go, if he’s being honest.
Matt continues to lick and slurp up your juices, pushing you into overstimulation territory, your mews still music to his ears but with a tinge of discomfort, but not before you cum again and coat his face with your delicious release. Moving his lips off of your clit, he gently licks up your mess, pressing kisses all over your pelvis before lifting his head up above the skirt of your dress.
“Better than anything I could’ve cooked,” he grins as he proudly wears your slick on his face. “So good, I want to go back for seconds.”
“You gotta give me a second, tiger,” you breathily laugh, caressing the side of his face, and he desperately turns his head to kiss your palm. “Maybe while I recoop, you can get some condoms? Or at least put the dinner in the fridge so we don’t get poisoned when we get around to actually eating it.”
Matt smiles and pounces on you, caging your body beneath his before holding your face in his hands as he kisses you. You giggle and chase his lips happily, and Matt slips his tongue into your mouth to let you taste yourself even better. You squeal in delight as he presses you into the mattress, and he feels like a giddy teenager in love.
Shit. He loves you. 
He was pretty sure he did—from the moment he met you, he didn’t want to even think about dating anyone else. And call it the pheromones he’s undoubtedly drunk on right now, but he doesn’t see himself being with anyone but you for the rest of his life. 
“What’s on your mind, pretty boy?” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair, and he can tell you’re looking at him as if he’s all the stars in the sky.
Yeah, he loves you.
“You,” he hums. “I got lucky, getting you in my life.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.” This time, it’s your turn to pull him down for a sweet kiss, and Matt feels as if his heart might explode.
“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs against your lips. “Stay just like this.”
“Kay,” you hum.
Matt presses one more kiss to your lips before he scurries out of his room, blowing out the candles, putting the plates in the fridge, and grabbing a box of condoms from his bathroom. When he comes back into his room, he finds you in the same spot he let you, pure relaxation covering you from your head to your toes. 
“You’ve got the stuff,” you smirk, and Matt can’t help but do the same. 
“I do,” he hums as he walks back to you, sitting on the mattress, leaning you up to snuggle into his side. “Are you sure you want to do this tonight? Because trust me, as much as I want to do this with you right now, I can wait until a better time. I don’t mind sticking my head back down between your legs and spending the rest of the night there. I’ll be just as happy there.”
Your eyes flutter shut, leaning into his body and kissing him. “I’m sure. And trust me, if that’s what you eat pussy like when I’m ovulating, I can’t wait to feel how you fuck me. No way I’m waiting to experience that.”
The last part seems to slip out past your lips before you can realize it, and you both know what it implies. A small smile pulls at the corners of Matt’s lips, and he leans forward to kiss you again before you have a chance to feel embarrassed, resting his forehead on yours. That’s not a conversation for tonight, but he’s touched that you’ve even considered it. “Alright, if you’re sure,” he whispers. “But you need to open the package.”
“I will, but first . . .” You straddle his lap and push him down on the mattress. “I think I need to take care of that painful looking bulge in your pants.”
Matt licks his lips in anticipation, listening to how you work yourself over him. You lean over, kissing and sucking a little mark into his neck before you unknot his tie and unbutton his shirt. 
“Do you trust me, Matt?” you ask.
“Completely,” he smiles. 
Taking his tie, you gently move his hands up above his head and begin to knot his fabric around his wrists. 
“Is it too tight?” you ask, brushing hair out of his face as if you’re clearing his line of sight. 
“‘s perfect,” he assures. “So are you.”
He can sense how you blush before you lean down and kiss him, softly dragging embraces down his exposed skin until you get to his pants, undoing his belt and sliding it off, and taking care of his pants, sliding it off his hips, leaving him exposed. He’s painfully hard—he’s surprised he didn’t cum in his pants while he was up to his eyeballs in (Y/N). He sucks in a breath between his teeth when your hand wraps around him, giving him some gentle pumps before you lean down and start to use your mouth. You press feather-light kisses on the underside of his shaft, licking his frenulum and gently caressing his balls. You get the tip of him in your mouth, so warm and wet, he swallows hard. 
“Wait,” he begs. “‘m not gonna last if you keep going like that.”
You smirk as you bring your mouth down toward his base before you let your hot breath spread over him.
“We both know that this isn’t the first time you’ll be cumming tonight, Matty,” you hum. 
You lick along the vein in his shaft until you’re back at the tip, opening your mouth and going down on him. Matt cries out at the top of his lungs, his hips bucking up as he lets out his release. He breaks out of the satin restraint, his hands moving to the sides of your face, not to force you down, but just to have his hands on you. When you finish sucking him dry, you pull off, licking your lips before you swallow.
“I’m offended. You broke out of my knot,” you chuckle. 
“Sorry,” he says with a blissed, dopey smirk. 
“No, don’t apologize. It was hot. Like, really hot. Like, we’re going to have to do something like that in the future hot.”
“Are we now?”
“Mmm. Now, where’d you put that box of condoms?”
Leaning over, you grab the box and pull out the foil package, tearing it open while he gets up and takes off the rest of his clothes before you carefully slide on the latex.
“Sweetheart, I think you’re a little overdressed,” he hums as his hands slide up under your dress. 
“What’re you gonna do about it?” you grin. 
His hands grip the zipper, pulling it down the track before sliding it off of your body, his hands then deftly moving to remove your bra. 
“There we go,” he smiles before leaning in and taking one of your breasts into his mouth, letting himself get lost in the soft, supple flesh. You both roll around in the bed until you’re under him, Matt sliding into you.
“Aah!” you cry out, your fingers grabbing a bruising grip onto his shoulders. It gets stronger the further that he pushes into you. Even with two orgasms and plenty of your arousal dripping from between your legs, you’re still so tight.
“That’s it,” he hums. “That’s it, you’re taking me so well, sweetheart.”
“Fuck!” you cry out, throwing your head back as you scratch angry red lines down his back.
“A little more, angel, you can do it. You can do it . . . Good girl, just like that.”
You both let out a grunt when he bottoms out in you, taking a moment to adjust.
“Just say the word for me, and I’ll start moving.”
“I-I need you,” you say almost immediately. “Matt, please, start moving. D-Don’t hold back.”
He takes your face in his hands, kissing you deeply before he starts thrusting. He does as you ask, not starting slow like he has in your past sexual encounters. Your moans and cries are music to his ears, spurring him on to go even faster, making you cry out louder. 
“Matt!” you cry with a guttural moan. “Yes! You’re so deep!”
“Made f’me,” Matt growls as he throws your legs up over his shoulders and folding you in half. “Mine.”
“Yours! I’m yours!”
Matt slithers a hand up your body, mapping out your soft skin with his touch until his hand is around your neck, holding your jaw, fingers spread before giving it a light squeeze. He listens to how your body reacts immediately, your warm, wet, tight cunt squeezing his cock as a response as you moan and bite your lip.
Matt’s going to have fun with that fact.
“Are you ready to cum, sweetheart?” he coos as he slams into you so hard, he’s pretty sure that your cunt might be permanently stretched and remolded to match the shape of his cock. “Can you cum around my cock for me?”
“Yes,” you whimper, one of your hands dropping to his forearm, giving it a squeeze. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop! Make me cum—make me cum hard! Just don’t stop!”
Matt lowers himself to kiss you deeply, your bodies a tangled, squished mess as he keeps pounding into you. You hold onto his face desperately, deepening the connection and the kiss until you open your mouth to let out an unbridled cry of pleasure. It hurts his ears, but what a sound to go deaf to. His hand slides from your neck, moving to higher up on your waist as he kisses you through your high, his sweaty forehead eventually falling to the crook of your neck as he experiences his own release.
The two of you are a panting, sweaty mess, tangled together and coming back to your senses while he softens inside of you. A few minutes pass, and he finally musters the energy to pull out of you, tying off the condom and throwing it in the trash by his bed.
“If you’re gonna fuck me like that every time I ovulate,” you pant, kissing his cheek before resting your forehead on his temple. “I’m in for a real treat.”
Matt chuckles, enjoying the taste of your skin and how it mixes with your sweat. In that moment, everything is calm, quiet . . . everything makes sense. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” he hums, his hands roaming your body. “We’re not done yet.”
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Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @loves0phelia
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amberlynnmurdock · 11 months ago
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Neighbor
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Matt Murdock x Reader
Summary: You're Matt Murdock's neighbor, and one night he hears you pray.
Words: Under 1k
A/N: I just be posting anything now lol wrote this in my notes app hope you like it!!!
The building was quiet most of the time, but unfortunately for Matt Murdock, that wasn't the case, ever. Most people couldn't hear apartments three doors down and the conversations that went on in them. But Matt could. And he could never avoid them.
He distracted himself from the outside noise with menial chores–cleaning whatever dishes were left in the sink, reorganizing glasses in the cabinet, and practicing his fighting. But when dusting and cleaning wasn't enough, when even the music he played couldn't drown out the noise, he tended to listen to a particular apartment: hers.
She lived alone. Right across the hall, diagonal from his own door. Of all the apartments he was forced to listen to day in and day out, hers was the most peaceful. The quietest. She didn't have loud conversations with anyone, she didn't have a dog who would bark in the middle of the night. Instead, she had a teapot on the stove that would whistle when ready; she spent most nights quietly flipping through pages of a book. She got up to that annoying phone alarm and trotted to the bathroom to get ready for work. Matt's not sure what she does, but sometimes he hears her come home late when he's about to get ready to patrol the streets as Daredevil.
Matt realized going over this in his head was a little more than creepy and trod the thin line of being a stalker, but his heightened senses and what they picked up on were unavoidable. The times he couldn't focus on anything else or tune out the other noises in the apartment he focused on hers because it was the most calming to his senses.
He's only run into her a handful of times on the rare occasion they both leave for work in the morning. One time, they both exited their apartments at the same time. She quietly waved good morning until she realized she waved at a blind man and then uttered a more audible "good morning." Most people would ignore the realization and awkwardly go about their day, but not her. She always made sure to say good morning from then on. Matt liked that–no, liked you.
Matt found himself eager to get home after work more often than not, in hopes of coming home at the same time as her. Anything to get a small interaction would be enough for him. Even if it was as small as her holding the door for him or wishing him a good night. He looked forward to these small interactions so much that if they didn't happen, Matt would have a much less than good day.
One night, though, when he was just about to let himself fall asleep after a rather rough night patrolling Hell's Kitchen, he heard her. He heard her in a way he hadn't before. From the hiccups, to the shaky breaths, and the lingering taste of salt in the air, he knew she was crying.
Matt shot up in bed as he began to listen more intently–what happened?
"Please, God," he heard her whispered prayer, "Please make sure I make it home safe and unharmed from work. Please. There's so much violence in this city and I'm scared to walk alone at night."
Matt took a shaky breath, gripping his silk sheets in his hands. She was scared, he confirmed. Well, rest assured, he thought. Tomorrow night, he would make sure she arrived home safely from work himself.
TO BE CONTINUED??? IDK.
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https-murdock · 2 months ago
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Love Like This - Matt Murdock
summary: Matt has never felt anything like this, never mind a love like this.
word count: ~1k
warnings: porn with plot (finally!!) - oral (F receiving), p in v, suuuper lovey dovey stuff - 18+ MDNI
note: felt like writing something super loved up! hope it’s ok :))
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Matt often wonders how someone with a heart like yours has fallen for someone with a heart like his.
When he comes home from work and smells you. Sitting on his couch, he knows you have your eyes glued to the tv by the way you don’t even realise he’s walked in.
“Hi, sweetheart.” He smirks, glasses and cane placed in his usual spot.
“Oh, hey! sorry i got really invested again.” You’re laughing now, and he can feel the vibrations through his chest.
There has always been something about you that made Matt feel like the world would heal again. The way you laughed, the way you grab his arm when he makes a good joke, the way you hum to yourself while you clean - everything, right down to the way your breathing hitches slightly in your dreams. There was always something about you that Matt just got.
“You know how much i love you, right?” He says, tie now across the back of the couch, few buttons undone, as he sits next to you with one arm around you. “Course i do. and you know how much i love you?” You’re very aware of how soppy you’d sound to other people, but these moments come rarely with Matt so you take them as they come.
You move to straddle him on his couch, holding his stubbled cheeks in your hands as he smiles up at you.
“I do.”
Matt’s lips meet yours in a loving, gentle moment - and it almost makes you wonder what has made him so lovey today. He always loves you, and he’s no stranger in showing you that, but it’s not often he’s so open about his feelings.
As the kiss is becoming deeper, tongues meeting, his hands move under the t-shirt of his that adorns your skin nearly every night.
“Mmm, so beautiful,” He mutters to himself, lifting your t-shirt over your head and letting your fingers work across the buttons of his suit shirt, “Can never get enough of you.”
“Need you.” You speak, lips still attached to his.
Tough hands flip you onto your back, leather couch sticking to the slight sheen of sweat against your skin. Now only in underwear, you feel much more exposed than him. “Matt, need to see you, please.” You smile, and he doesn’t even reply before taking off his shirt and undoing his belt, letting his suit pants fall to the floor with the rest of your clothing.
“Wanna make you feel so good, sweetheart.” Matt whispers, leaning down and letting his nose meet your naked thigh, biting gently and relishing in the muted moan that leaves your lips.
Silently, you sit begging for his touch, only hearing your breaths between each other. He knows what you want, what you need, but he’s just existing in the moment.
“H- Shit.” Words have now left you, as he licks a long stripe up your folds, leaving you breathless at his touch, “Taste so good.” Matt talks between your thighs, running his tongue in circles around your clit.
All thoughts leave your mind, your body the only thing existing with the way it feels under Matt’s touch. His hands hold your wrists down at the side of your body, feeling how tense your arms become when you can feel an orgasm building,
“Always so wet, all for me, love.” He smirks, letting his teeth graze your clit softly, before going right back to his little kitten licks. All that can be heard in his loft is your breathy moans, Matt relishing in the way you sound each time he touches you.
Before you know it, you’re right on the edge of the point you desperately need to tip over, and you’re begging for more. “M- Please, fuck i’m-“ You’re well aware you don’t make much sense, but all you care about is the way his mouth is making you feel. “Come for me, sweetheart.”
His deep, growling voice was all you needed to fly across the line. Hearing muffled, your back arches off Matt’s sofa, his hands moving to your hips as his mouth doesn’t slow down, leading you through your orgasm.
“Matt, fuck me.” You mumble, pins and needles still running through your fingertips from your erratic breathing.
“Patience, love.” He giggles, standing up to strip himself of his boxers before sitting down with his back to the couch. As you straddle him again, you think of all the memories you share and the nights spent on his sofa together.
As you sink down onto him, his head falls to your shoulder, groaning to himself about how right you feel around him, “Always wrap around me so well.” his hands graze up your skin, meeting both of your tits, thumbs running across your nipples as he listens to how fast it sends your heart rate.
“M- Feel so good, so good.” You babble, bouncing softly up and down, feeling how deep he’s reaching inside your walls.
The way your slick is slowly hitting the base of his cock is sending Matt’s brain wild, the feeling of you so tightly around him making him realise how he fell so in love with you so quickly, everything about you feels amazing.
“Ahh- keep going, beautiful.” He realises it sounds like he’s begging, and maybe he is.
“Please, come inside me.” You’re now doing the same, letting his thumb meet your clit, rubbing tight circles craving the way it feels for you to finish around him once more.
You both come together, lips tensely meeting, teeth clashing. A throaty groan comes from Matt as his hips falter, feeling the way you clench around him as thick white ropes paint your walls.
Once you’ve both cooled off, cleaned up as per Matt, you finally get to sit down and talk about the day.
“Hmm, doesn’t matter.” he mutters, lying back in the bed with you on his chest, breathing returned back to normal.
“What matters then? i wanna know ‘bout your day.” You laugh, leaning upwards to look at the way he’s sitting, eyes closed, fully relaxed in the sheets.
“You.”
tags
@lambmurdock @parker-murdock @silas-aeiou @blushingrn @audreyclimbs
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farfromstrange · 1 month ago
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Fictober Day 8: Sex Toys
Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Prompt: Sex Toys (✨)
Summary: Matt wants to use one of your sex toys on you for the first time, but things don't quite go as planned.
Warnings: SMUT (18+), use of a vibrator, use of "good girl", slight degradation, slight Dom!Matt, unprotected p in v, breeding kink
Word Count: 2k
A/n: Jesus, this was supposed to be a Drabble. Matt took over toward the end though and added another thousand words, so now you get to have this filthy little (big) piece.
Read Me On AO3!
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He’s towering over you. The billboard's lights paint a blue and purple mosaic on his bare skin. His eyes are closed as he listens to your every breath, and every beating of your heart. But there’s something else in the air tonight.
The steady buzzing of your vibrator glides up, up, up your thigh. You can’t remember when you’ve last been this on edge, this close to falling off the carousel without ever being pushed. 
Matt is calm—too calm. He’s taking his time pressing the current into your skin, soaking your little impatient noises up like a sponge. You’re so wet already, naked and spread out for him as his cock rests achingly hard against his stomach, but he’s nowhere near done with you. And he won’t let you touch him. You’ve tried; you’ve tried to reach out for him, but he slapped your hand away. 
“Not yet,” he’d said to you. “I want to try something first.”
When he pulled out the box with all your toys that you keep around for when you feel needy and alone without him, you knew that his hands wouldn’t be the only thing touching you tonight. It’s exciting, to try things you have never tried before. At first, you were scared to tell him about your occasional habit of pleasuring yourself when time won’t allow him to do it, but he was never opposed to it. Not that he has any right to be, anyway. 
You never expected this to happen though. 
You never expected Matt to pull out your bright pink vibrator and tell you how badly he wants to fuck you with it until you can’t help but scream his name.
Your skin tingles at the low temperature of the toy. You would ask him to warm it up for you, but you doubt you could get a word out even if you tried. You’re hot to your very core, but with the vibrator gradually sliding up to travel the valley between your breasts, you find yourself suddenly freezing. 
Matt must be able to tell. Goosebumps erupt on your skin everywhere he touches you without touching you. He reaches out to brush the tip of his calloused thumb over it, collecting the sweat that has started to pour from your pores and rubbing it in. You’re not cold, the action is supposed to say. And he’s right, you’re not cold, it just feels like you are. Every nerve in your body is on fire. It almost hurts how badly you want him to do something, anything. You need to come. You need to feel the vibrator against your cunt, or your clit, or perhaps both. You want him to kiss you and hold you as he thrusts the stupid toy into you, always angled toward that spot. Higher and higher and higher until finally, you come. 
Matt presses the tip against your nipple, and you cry out. You couldn’t focus, so he made you focus. White hot pleasure courses through your veins, infecting you like some kind of disease, but you wouldn’t mind if it killed you. So many different temperatures, so many different sensations. Now you know what it must feel like for him, at least a little bit. It’s so incredibly intense you forget how to breathe.
“Look at me,” he says.
Somehow, he always knows when you don’t. 
You open your eyes, your vision blurry as you take on the vision that is him. You could cry just from how beautiful he is.
“Good girl.” He draws a circle around your nipple then. “Just feel.”
You try to shut your legs for some kind of friction, but he pushes them apart again. Matt clicks his tongue. “I take it back.” Gently, he smacks the vibrator against your breast, but it’s enough to make you jolt. “Bad girl,” he says. 
Asshole.
“Language.”
Did you say that out loud? Fuck.
“Please,” you beg. “I’m sorry, Matty. Please, just…”
“What?” He circles the other breast, turning the toy up a notch. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Touch me,” your voice is barely above a pathetic whisper.
He shakes his head. “You can do better than that.”
You abandon the thought of cursing him out again. You want to be his good girl, you do. 
“Touch me,” you repeat. 
His hand comes to rest on your stomach, just below your heart. “Like this?”
You suck in a sharp breath. 
“Or like this?” He leans forward, pressing his lips against your skin, featherlight. You barely feel it. 
A whine slips past your lips. 
Matt slides the vibrator back down your body. You don’t notice; you’re too focused on the way his lips are moving along your sensitive abdomen, getting bolder with each inch he covers. His hand traces every crevice and every scar he can find. He knows you inside and out, yet he touches you as though it is the very first time. The very first night you got together. Like he can’t believe you’re his, and he needs to take his time worshiping—no, memorizing you. In case you slip through his fingers after this, and all he will have left is your memory.
You would never do that to him, but you know just how scared he gets. He needs to do this. He needs to feel you. And you are more than willing to give your body, mind, and soul to him. If you could, you would serve it on a silver platter, for you know that you are safest with him.
He hums at the hitch of your breath, the slight uptick in your heartbeat. His fingers splay over the left side of your chest. You’re alive. Your heart is beating for him, and that’s all that matters. 
“Or maybe like this?” he says, and the moan you let out borders on a scream when he pushes the vibrator directly against your pussy. 
The wave building within you is already tall enough to level a small town. 
Matt glides the tip over your swollen clit. “You’re so wet. Fuck. I barely touched you.”
You are grasping at the sheets, at the pillows, but the silk slips through your fingers. “Matt,” you choke out. 
“I know.” He presses a kiss to your sternum. “I know, baby. It’s okay.”
The wave threatens to crash into you. It shouldn’t be possible, and yet, it is. He’s made it possible. 
You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging at the strands as he pushes the vibrator against your entrance. At the setting it is now, you can feel the electricity in your every bone. He pushes it in until you’re full of the silicone.
You’re moaning, thrashing, and clawing at him for something to hold onto. You are so close—so, so close. You don’t understand what’s happening to you.
His hand comes to cup your breast again. “Look at you,” he murmurs, raspy against your skin. His kisses have no aim, simply caressing your skin as he would worship at the shrine of the ever-loving Catholic God he believes in. Right now though, you are his God, and he would lay his life down for you. He would sacrifice his life just to listen to you fall apart, just to make sure you’re okay and he has done everything to give you what you need.
Because neither heaven nor hell would mean anything without you.
Your hips buck into the vibrations, into his touch, and you can feel your control fading. The wave is close enough for you to touch. Every crevice in your body wants to burst, every muscle straining to hold on, to hold you on the edge just a little longer, but it’s hard—so hard. 
Matt grunts, teeth digging into your flesh. His cock jumps at the sounds you’re making, the way you’re clenching around the toy and your scent so fucking thick in the air he will probably smell you for weeks to come. Pre-cum has long started leaking from his tip.
He thought this was a good idea, getting to explore you in an entirely new way, but Good Lord, he can’t stand the thought of a toy giving you this much pleasure when he is right there to fill you to the brim. 
He stops below your ear, only to whisper, “Safe word?”
Your eyes roll back into your head. “R-red,” you stammer. 
“Good girl. Remember that.”
But why ask?
Your question answers itself when he suddenly pulls the vibrator out of you, leaving you painfully empty and wet. You cry out again, though this time out of pure disdain. You were so close.
He ruined it.
He fucking ruined it. 
“No,” you whine. “Please…”
He shushes you with his lips, and then his cock thrusts into you. You don’t have time to process before he bottoms out. The stretch is familiar yet new, reigniting the fires he blew out mere seconds ago. He’s thick, bigger than average, and he fills you up so good. Your lips part, but nothing wants to come out. You can’t moan. You can’t scream. He’s inside of you, and all you can think is, ‘Fucking finally!’ 
Matt slides his tongue into your mouth to silence himself. You’re warm and tight, and if he weren’t so determined to make you come all over his cock before he gets to see the pearly gates, he would have already burst. 
Though neither of you is going to last very long.
Your legs wrap around his waist. That’s why he asked. He holds onto your thigh as you cling to him, nails running down his back until he’s red all over until he’s marked by you. 
Once he’s got his bearings, he’s not holding back. The pace he sets is brutal. He thrusts into you with abandon, angling your leg to get as deep as he possibly can, and he fucks you into the mattress like a man starved. It’s that way, too, that he kisses you.
The bed creaks with every snap of his hips against yours. You swear you can feel him in your stomach, the way he’s taking you apart with only his cock. You’re falling with nowhere to land, but he’s falling with you. Hard, and fast.
Matt bites your lip, tugging it back before crashing his mouth into yours again. You’re sure one of you must be bleeding. 
“I need you to come,” he pants, teeth dragging along your jaw. “Need you to…” He grunts.
The orgasm continues to build as the wave gains momentum.
“Come for me.” 
You cry out his name when you do, the wave crashing in and drowning you all at once. Your heart beats out of your chest and into his. One more thrust. Two. Even a third one, and then, he spills into you. 
For a short while, the world stops turning. You’re floating in a void detached from space and time. All that fills the room now is the sound of your labored breathing.
Minutes pass by. The lights of the Billboard continue to flicker, throwing a blanket of color over you. 
Matt is the first to break the silence. “Was that…” he trails off.
Your chest rumbles with a soft chuckle, holding his fragile body a little tighter to yours. “Oh yeah,” you say. “It was.”
He nuzzles his nose further into your chest. “Good. That’s… good.”
What he doesn’t tell you, at least not yet: there are a lot more toys in that little box of yours that he is eager to try out, and he will make sure to come inside you with every last one of them. To fill you up. To breed you so he can taste himself inside your pussy when he eats you out at the end of this—as he always does. 
He’s going to make you come so many times, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. You won’t even be able to remember your own damn name. Only his. And it will only be his cock that will make you do so. As fun as toys are, there are some things he would rather do himself when he can. 
You don’t quite know it yet, but tonight is going to be a very long night for you. 
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@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @xnatyx @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @zomtart @ethereal-blaze
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souliebird · 6 months ago
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[[and then I met you || ch. 19]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.
chapter masterlist
Words: 3.6k
ao3 link
banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen
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Frank, admittedly, isn’t as fit as he used to be. 
Running through the desert, carrying all his gear, used to be an everyday thing he could do no problem, but now, running through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, he finds his breathing to be a bit labored. 
Then again, that might be because he’s pissed off. He, Jones, and Red were in the middle of setting up for a night of surveillance, something Red insisted they do, when the costumed idiot took off into the night without a word.
Normally, Red will give them the damn courtesy of letting them know before he disappears to protect his flock, so him just starting to bolt had Frank and Jones scooping up their shit and following. 
One thing Frank’s learned while working with Matt Murdock is to trust the bastard when it comes to his senses - when he says they need to clear out, there is usually a damn good reason to start running. But he has always given a reason or a head’s up - taking off like this must mean something is going down.
Jones gave up trying to keep pace a few blocks back, but Frank is determined to find out what the hell is going on. Red has the advantage of not hauling an additional fifty pounds of gear, and he has taken to parkouring over the roofs, so has gotten about a block and a half ahead. 
Frank can keep him in his sights, at least. He’s making a bee-line right towards Chelsea and that’s causing a pit to start to grow in the Marine’s stomach. Not many things override Red’s deep seeded commitment to his city and only one of those things resides outside Hell’s Kitchen. 
He adjusts his grip on his bag and forces his legs to move faster.  
The buildings around him shift from businesses to residential and about two blocks into the change, Frank knows what set the Devil off. 
His little girl is in the middle of the sidewalk, crying hysterically as her mother struggles on the ground against some fat fuck in a business suit. Frank only sees the attacker for a brief second before fury incarnate grabs him by his thick neck and slams him into the ground by Mom’s feet. The sound of a skull being cracked rings clear before it's covered by angry roars and the crunch and squelch of someone’s face being pounded in. 
By the Grace of all that is Holy, Red’s baby seems to not care her dad is about to kill a guy and scurries to her Mommy now that she is free. Frank kicks his ass into gear to get there before she can be traumatized anymore. 
He doesn’t know if the little girl recognizes him or not, but she doesn’t fight it when Frank picks her up. She clings to him desperately, burying her face against his neck and just sobbing. Instincts he forgot he had kick in and Frank bundles Minnie up in his duster, rocking her and trying to soothe her the best he can.
“Hey, hey, sweet girl, it's okay, it's okay. I gotcha. Everything’s gonna be okay, I gotcha.”
Frank cups the back of her head, careful to not tangle his fingers up in her curls and turns her away from her bloody mother. He needs to check on you, to make sure your wounds are something he can handle, and they don’t need to take you to the hospital, but he can’t do that with a crying toddler in his arms. 
“He hurt my Mommy!” The baby wails and his heart just about breaks. He wants so badly to join Red in stomping the piece of shit’s head into the pavement for endangering such a precious child, but he knows he can’t. She can’t witness any more than she already has. 
As often as Frank takes digs at Murdock for being an altar boy, he can’t let Red’s daughter see him lose control and step over the line he swore to never cross. He’d never forgive himself for causing that trauma for her. So, he hugs the little girl closer, kisses the top of her head, then grunts, “Red!”
Murdock stills mid-punch, his bloody fist raised and ready to continue his punishment. He looks feral - he is snarling, and gore has splashed up onto his face. He is shaking with rage and for a brief moment, Frank can see why he claims to have the Devil in him. Then, just as his little girl cries for her Mom again, control returns to him. Red tilts his head in a way Frank knows he heard something, then he pushes himself up into standing. 
Red rips his gloves off, throwing them to the ground, before taking the few steps to clear the gap between him and Frank. He barely starts to rasp out his daughter’s name before she’s turning in Frank’s arms and trying to throw herself to him, sobbing.
“DADDY!”
The noise Red makes is not at all human as he crushes his baby girl to his chest. A new round of loud tears start and Frank knows he has to work quickly before they start attracting attention. 
He pulls his duster off and throws it around Red’s shoulders, trying to hide his garish costume. Murdock seems to realize what he’s doing - he curls into it while ducking his horn-head and moving towards the shadows as he comforts his daughter. Frank can’t hear what he’s saying - his voice is low and the crying covers it - but honestly he doesn’t care.
He turns his attention back to your limp body on the ground, dropping down and letting his knowledge of field medicine take over.
Your forehead is bleeding pretty bad, but a quick assessment of the wound tells him it looks worse than it really is. You’ve got a pretty good gash, but it is shallow, and he doesn’t feel any bone breakage under it or swelling. You’ll need a few stitches, and a hell of a lot of ibuprofen, but you won’t need a hospital. You probably passed out from a combination of pain and exhaustion from an adrenaline rush. 
Still, Frank checks your neck before deciding to move you, just to make sure it's safe. 
As he starts to press his fingers along your spine, Jones finally makes her appearance, jogging up to the scene. 
“What the fuck?”
Frank barely looks up as he growls out his reply, focusing on his work while formulating a plan in his head, “It’s his kid.”
“Oh shit,” she replies, then after a beat, “Is he dead?”
Frank barely looks over to the beaten man in question - his chest is still rising and falling so that’s good enough for him. “Nah, not yet. Call it in - then meet us up in her apartment.” 
He rattles off the address and apartment number as he scoops you up into a fireman’s carry. He’s glad he doesn’t have far to go, because your weight, plus his gear, isn’t doing any favors to his back. As he gets you situated, Jones steps over to the attacker and nudges him in the side with her boot. His face isn’t recognizable as human, but that isn’t what she comments on. 
“What is that smell? Did he shit himself?”
“Fuck if I know, just call it in,” Frank grunts as he begins to trudge towards the right building. “Red, let's go!”
He knows he doesn’t have to explain the plan to Murdock - fucker heard him the first time. Red falls in line and by some miracle, his little girl’s crying has tampered down. She’s still crying - Frank would be more concerned if she wasn’t - but she’s tucked herself close to her Dad and seems to be just more upset than actively terrified. Frank’s got no idea what Murdock could have possibly done to soothe her, but he gives him props for doing it so damn fast. 
He can hear Jones calling for an ambulance as they enter into your building, and once in the lobby, Frank wastes no time barking another order, “Take off your helmet.” 
That earns him a glare, or what counts as a glare from the Devil, and Murdock uses one hand to pull his cowl off and stuffs it between his chest and his daughter before starting for the stairs. Frank is right at his heel and being so close means he can finally hear what Red is repeating to his girl. 
“Just listen to her heart, baby, everything’s okay. You know that sound. Just listen to her heart.”
Frank has a good guess what that means - his theory about passing out from exhaustion and pain is probably correct. If your heart isn’t in crazy panic ‘I’m dying’ mode, you should be fine after a good night’s rest. 
The only problem they encounter in the climb up to your apartment is your door. They have to do a weird song-and-dance of Frank turning so Red can get into your purse to get keys while also making sure Minnie can’t see your face. He hasn’t gotten the chance to clean you up in any way and he’s not going to let any little girl see her mom like that if he can help it. 
Once they are inside the apartment, Frank goes right to the couch to lay you out. As he does, he says over his shoulder, “I’m gonna call Curt.” 
Just because you don’t need a hospital doesn’t mean you shouldn’t see a medical professional. Frank knows what he is doing, but he does not trust himself to stitch up your face. Someone with delicate hands needs to do that, and the best person he knows for that is Curt. 
Murdock, however, disagrees. 
“Call Claire,” he counters firmly. 
Frank knows better than to argue - this is Murdock’s family and Frank ain’t got a dog in this fight. So, once you are down, and his gear is dropped, he fishes out his phone to call the feisty nurse. As he does, Red starts back towards what Frank assumes is the bedroom, talking in a sweet tone to his little girl, “It's okay, Frank’s gonna clean Mommy up, then we can go see her. She’s just got a scrape, everything’s okay.”
Frank focuses on his task at hand - as the line rings, he raids the kitchen for washcloths, bowls, and paper towels. He’s on his way back to the couch when Claire finally answers.
“What did he do this time?”
A little smile forms on his lips at her bluntness - he’s always liked Claire and her no-nonsense attitude. 
“Ain’t him. His girl got mugged, hit her head pretty good,” he explains, as he dips a washcloth into the water to start on cleaning you up. The cut on your forehead is still bleeding, but only a little by this point. He’ll have to retrace their steps to wipe away any blood droplets, so they don't leave a trail right to your door.
“So, take her to the ER.”
He hums at the response, then adds the crucial element, “His little girl saw it all.”
The line is silent for a good five seconds before Claire is swearing, “I’m on my way. How bad are we talking?”
He feels a little for the nurse at the moment - she’s always having to deal with Red broken and battered and is probably thinking she’s going to have to do some sort of impromptu surgery. He gives a rundown on your injuries, then adds, “Your stitches are nicer than mine.” 
“Exactly what a lady wants to hear. How’s the kid?” 
“Physically ok, but probably going to have nightmares for a while,” is his honest reply. There wouldn’t be an attacker left to pick up in an ambulance if Minnie had gotten hurt - he would have made sure of that no matter what Red would have said.
Claire groans in response, “I don’t know anything about child psychology, Frank.” 
“No one’s expecting you to.”
The nurse may be a miracle worker in the eyes of Red’s little vigilante group, but no one in this world is qualified to deal with all their mental problems.
“Give me ten minutes and I’ll be there. You’re lucky I’m on this side of town already.” 
Claire hangs up on him and Franks stuffs his phone back into his pocket. He’ll need to call Mirco later to set up a camera on your building, something similar to what he’s got for Karen, and arrange for some background checks on the neighbors. The area seems to be working class just trying to get by, but isn’t that just all of the city now? Even if one drunk-off-his-ass guy just made some stupid decision, it put you and the kid in danger and that is a no-go in Frank’s book. As much Red will huff and puff and growl, his family falls under Frank’s sphere of protection and that isn’t something Frank skimps on. 
So, a full security upgrade is in your near future. 
But that is something he’ll figure out the details for later on. Right now, he puts his full attention in cleaning you up. 
The worst of it is the cut on your forehead. He folds a washcloth and sets it on the wound to help the remaining bleeding stop, then moves onto your cheeks. You’ve got some gravel stuck there, but he doesn’t see any glass or metal. There’s some bruising, but he doesn’t think it will be anything to fuss about - it will fade away within a day or so. He’s seen worse coloring on a hickey. The bastard who attacked you didn’t seem like he knew what he was doing, or he was too sloshed out of his mind to be coordinated.
 Overall, you are just pretty banged up. 
But nonetheless, Frank takes care to make sure it just looks like you are resting, even putting the throw blanket left on the couch over you to hide the grime stains on your clothes. 
Red and his creepy bat ears must be listening, because as soon as he goes to dump the bloody cleaning water, he’s coming out of the bedroom with Minnie. She’s still in his arms, clinging to his neck like a koala, but her tears have stopped. She’s still sniffling, though.
Frank hangs back as the little girl is brought to her Mommy and his heart damn near breaks again when she starts talking. 
“She’s just sleeping?” 
“She’s just sleeping,” Red confirms. He carefully kneels down beside you and makes slow, exaggerated movements as he puts his hand over your heart. “You can feel, too. Just sleeping.”
He watches as the tiny little girl untangles herself from her father and stretches to put her hand next to his. She scrunches up her nose and gets a look Frank has seen a million times on Red. 
“Boom. Boom. Boom.”
“Exactly, boom. Boom. boom. The same heart-noises Mommy makes when she sleeps.” 
They stay like that for a few seconds before little hands go up to your face and Minnie is examining your cuts.
“He hurt Mommy,” she says so softly that Frank wants to stomp back downstairs and unload his Glock into the asshole. “She has ouchies.” She turns so quickly in Red’s arm that Frank sees him jump just a little - probably still on high alert - and she slaps both her hands on his cheeks, “You have to kissy it better.”
Her voice is so serious and demanding, he’s surprised Red doesn’t instantly comply. Instead, he kisses his little one’s forehead. 
“A doctor is going to come and make sure all her ouchies are taken care of. Then we can kiss it better.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Her curls bounce as the little girl whips around to address Frank, ordering in the same voice, “You have to kissy it better, too.”
He damn well knows better than to argue with a three year old girl - Lisa could put him in his place like no one's business - so Frank simply nods with a, “Yes, ma’am.” Red doesn't look thrilled at the agreement, but he's not the one who's opinion Frank cares about.
Her brown eyes sus him out, narrowing a fraction before he passes whatever criteria she has and Minnie turns back to her mother and father. “When is she gonna wake up?”
“She'll wake up when she's done resting,” Murdock gently advises. “She needs lots of rest right now.” 
Frank knows what question is coming before it is even asked. It is the universal toddler question. 
“Why?”
Red, it seems, needs to spend more time with his kid because he looks completely baffled by the question. He repeats the word, which just gets parroted back at him, and Frank can practically hear Lisa and Frankie chanting along with her. 
Why? 
Why? 
Why?
Why would you need lots of rest in a way a terrified toddler would get it? There's a slight hint of panic in Red’s sightless eyes as he fights to find an answer and Frank takes pity on him. 
He steps forward and asks the little girl, “Have you ever played really hard then needed a nap after?”
Attention swings back to him but this time he is prepared for it. Minnie considers his question, then nods, and Frank gives her a soft, friendly smile. “Same thing, sweetheart. Your Mommy’s body worked really hard and now she needs a nap.” 
“She needs a nap,” the baby replies and then, to his amusement, proceeds to stuff her fingers into her mouth and suck on them. He's got no idea what that means, but Red’s shoulders relax a fraction, so he assumes it's a good thing. 
He wonders if she's starting to get tired now that the action is over. He can't imagine why they were out in the first place, but he has to guess it was to get something from the store. That is his experience with bringing a baby in their pajamas out at night - there was something needed that couldn't wait until morning. That would also explain the black bag in your purse.
He looks to Red and his girl - Murdock has sat himself on the floor beside the couch, facing you, and Minnie is tucked in his lap, sucking her fingers still. Both of their focus seems to be on you. So, Frank lets curiosity get the better of him and he goes to snoop. 
There’s a bottle of Pedialyte nestled inside the bag, and by the tiny bit missing, he has a feeling he knows who it is for. He looks from it, over to the sweet child sitting in Red’s lap, and decides she probably still needs it if her mom went out in the middle of the night for it. So, he turns his snooping to the kitchen and opens and closes cabinets until he finds the one holding sippy cups. All of them have Braille labels on them and he briefly wonders what each says before grabbing one with Big Bird on it. He gives it a good rinse before filling it up halfway with the blue liquid.
He removes his tactical vest before he heads back to the living room. He thinks of it more of a sign for Red than Minnie. The little girl might be scared of the skull art, but he hopes it will help Murdock relax. He’s putting on a good face for his daughter, but Frank can see the tension in his jaw and how on edge and angry he must be, and he can’t be blamed. He knows how emotional Red can get and he’s surprised he’s managing to keep it together - so subtly letting him know ‘there’s no danger here’ and Frank isn’t a threat to his family might just get him to stop grinding his teeth. 
He approaches slowly and somewhat loudly, while holding out the sippy cup, “Here you go, sweetie.”
Minnie blinks up at him with those wide brown eyes and he can see the exhaustion starting to creep in - getting a bottle might just knock her out. He has to lean down so she can take it, but as soon as she does, her hand drops from her mouth and she politely mumbles, “Thank you.” 
“You’re very welcome, sweetheart.”
“What is it?” Murdock questions, nose twitching to try to figure out the smell. Frank doubts he’s familiar with the drink, but soon he’ll have it memorized.
“Blue Pedi-lyte,” the baby grumbles before the spout goes right into her mouth and she starts to nurse it. Almost instantly she starts leaning back against Red’s chest and Frank knows right away she’ll be asleep within minutes. 
He checks his phone as he goes to take a seat at the kitchen table. Claire should be here any minute and it's a toss up if Jones comes up or not. He’ll wait until everything is all settled to head out - he does want to make sure you are okay and he’s not going to leave Claire alone with an upset kid and her Dad-devil. 
Frank brings up his texts to Karen to start typing out that the op is a bust, when Murdock’s quiet voice interrupts his train of thought.
“Thank you, Frank.”
“Nothing to thank me for, Red. It’s your family. You don’t gotta explain that to me.”
“Still, thank you, Frank. I mean it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Murdock.”
---
a/n: frank has entered the chat and assumed Alpha Dad role. his family now.
tags:
@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 
@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath 
 @allllium
@anehkael
 @nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird  @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil
@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore
@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt
@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374
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@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars
@
Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 
@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 
@
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 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday
@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face
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elixirfromthestars · 3 months ago
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On Days Like This
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Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (established relationship)
Summary: The comforts of sick days with your boyfriend Matt.
Word Count: 1.1k
Warning(s): fluff / descriptions of mild sickness / sick + comfort
requested by anonymous
a/n: hello! i'm jumping between wips and i was able to finish this bingo request 💖 originally it was just going to be the first part, but then I got carried away 🤭✨ as always feedback is appreciated! and my writing challenge is still on going 💗
birthday bingo masterlist ♡ // main masterlist ♡
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When He's Sick
“ Matt, don’t even think about it,” you warn as he reaches for the armrest of the couch. You know what he’s about to do and you refuse to let him do it. You’re not letting him move a muscle while he’s sick. 
“ I got it,” you add, rushing to the front door and answering the knock that rang throughout his apartment seconds earlier. Matt grumbles something under his breath as he sinks back onto the couch—a resigned sigh leaving his lips. 
Your boyfriend gets a little grumpy when he’s sick. He relies on his senses to see and it’s hard to do that when he can’t breathe out of his nose and has a constant ringing in his ears. The delirium of his ongoing fever further muddied his brain. The clouding of his senses was overwhelming to say the least and you were trying your best to help remedy that. 
You open the door and grab the items you instacarted to make him some homemade chicken noodle soup. You make your way back to the kitchen where you take the items out and start preparing the meal.
You peak out into the living room. Your boyfriend resembles a child all snuggled up into the blue cotton blanket you draped over him earlier. The slight hum of the television in the background casting a light glow onto him. 
He won’t admit it now, but he secretly loves being taken care of. Its not a feeling he’s used to, but when it comes to you he welcomes it. 
When you’re done preparing the ingredients, you pour them all into a pot to simmer. You wash your hands thoroughly and then make your way over to your boyfriend. Its time to take his temperature again.
“ Hey, how are you feeling?” You ask, your tone filled with a gentle worry. You lower to your knees to be eye level with him.
“ Like my head’s going to explode,” he groans quietly. You give him a weary smile, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead. You’ve done this so many times you can’t tell if his fevers gone down or not. 
“ Open up,” you request as you inch the tip of the thermometer to his lips. He does as told and you take his temperature. 
“ One hundred and two. Looks like that medicine is starting to kick in. You were at one o’three earlier,” you say, slightly optimistic. This does nothing to cheer your boyfriend up as he’s still in his sickly haze.
You kiss your fingers and then press it onto his lips,“ Soup will be ready soon. I promise it’ll make you feel better,” your voice brings him a comfort he direly needs. Coupled that with the indirect kiss and the way you’re brushing away the strands of sweaty hair from his face—he’s in heaven. 
“ Thanks, baby,” he manages to croak out. You brush another strand from his face and he leans into your touch. “ No need to thank me. I’m here for you,” you reply with a soft sincerity. 
Damn the medicine and the soup. All he needs is you. 
After about another forty minutes the soup is done and served in a bowl. You let it cool down a bit before heading over to the couch, setting the bowl down on the coffee table. Matt can faintly pick up the savory aroma in the air and he gently sits up. He intends to reach out to grab the bowl until you swat his hands away lightly. 
“ No. I got it. You focus on getting better. I’ll do the rest,” there’s a slight pout on his lips as you say this. You’re tempted to kiss it away, but you stop yourself. The last thing either of you needed was for you to get sick too.
You blow on the soup a bit before serving him the first spoonful. The warmth spreads throughout his body blanketing him better than anything else did. 
You were right. The soup did make him feel better.
When You're Sick
A content sigh escapes you as Matt massages the lavender scented shampoo into your scalp. His fingers are delicate, but working with purpose as he lathers every strand. Your body was already melting into the bath, but with the way his hands were working—you’d soon melt into him. 
There wasn’t a strand of hair left untouched by him. He gave every bit of it his full attention. Wanting to make sure he was doing things right. He had never done this for anyone before. 
The bath was Matt’s idea and his doing. When you came down with the flu and complained about your achy muscles and congested sinuses—he knew just what to do. 
Well, more like the internet told him what to do and what products to buy.
His every touch was gentle and soothing. The scent of lavender was calming to your senses so he left it in your hair to settle for just a bit while he worked on lathering a rosemary scented body wash into your skin. His fingers work in slow circular motions, applying just the right amount of pressure to pacify the ache. 
“ How’s that?” he asks, fingers gliding over your back as his circular motions continue.
Now you were completely melting into his touch, “ Perfect. That seriously helps so much,” you reply a little breathless, your eyes closing to focus on the feeling. 
Matt grinned, pleased that he was able to help you. He loves taking care of you as much as you take care of him. Being the one you can lean on, on days like this, means everything to him.
When You're Both Sick
“ Come here,” Matt’s quiet voice rings out in his dark bedroom. The slightest sliver of moonlight coming from his window. His arms are outstretched in your direction as you make your way into the covers. 
You sniffle briefly as you snuggle into his side, his arms enveloping you immediately. You clear your throat to hold back a nasty cough that is trying to fight its way out of you. 
Your bodies tangle under the blanket, trying to calm the chills that run through both of you. Matt’s head rests delicately on your head as your face nestles into the crook of his neck. 
The cold medicine starts to take effect as your eyelids get heavier. Matt’s breathing has relaxed signaling to you he’s on the verge of falling asleep too. 
“ Goodnight,” you whisper, tilting your head to plant a soft kiss to his jaw. 
“ Goodnight,” he whispers back, planting a loving kiss to the top of your head, pulling you impossibly closer to him. 
You fall asleep just like that.
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bunmurdock · 2 months ago
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Hi I have mm thoughts like imagine having a kid with Matt and your worried how it will change your body but infact it just makes him love you more like your feeding your guys kid ? He wants to be there loves feeling you up even more need to pump for later ? He ain’t complaining
Also if it isn’t already taken I would love to be 🦋anon 😊
NEW EMOJI FRIEND! i believe someone has claimed 🦋, would you like to claim a different emoji (or multiple)? nicknames are ok as well!
maybe i'm ovulating, but you got me deep into dad!matt feels:
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oh my god okay so imagine matt murdock as a husband and dad.
you're worried about how your body's changing, but to him? it just makes him fall in love with you more. you’re carrying his kid, feeding them—he’s in awe of it. he’ll rest his hand on your stomach, tracing his fingers over every little curve, whispering how incredible you are, how much stronger, more beautiful you've become.
and when you’re pumping? he’s right there. nothing but support, hands still gently resting on you, maybe teasing with that smirk of his. he’d joke about being jealous of the bottle but would also be dead serious about helping however he can. "don’t worry, sweetheart, i’ll take care of this later," in that playful yet sincere tone.
then there’s matt with the baby, lying on his chest, tiny hands tugging at his glasses while he chuckles, that crooked smile breaking through as his eyes soften. "guess they’re taking after me already, grabbing things they can’t see," he murmurs, voice thick with affection. he’s smiling the whole time, completely wrapped up in the little miracle you both created, his vulnerability showing in the way he holds them just a bit tighter, like he can hardly believe this is real.
he’s still matt murdock, though—always thinking ahead, always ready to protect, but softer now. he’s got one ear on the baby, the other on the world outside, but right there, in that moment? it’s all about you and them. just the three of you, and him never wanting to be anywhere else.
forget the baby monitor—matt is the baby monitor. he hears everything. every tiny breath, every little coo. you'll wake up in the middle of the night, maybe panicked that something's wrong, and he’ll already be halfway across the room, whispering, “they’re just stirring, sweetheart. go back to sleep.”
no need for gadgets when you’ve got matt murdock with those insane dad reflexes. you’ll be sitting on the couch, and suddenly, the baby tips over while trying to crawl, and before you can even react, matt’s already caught them mid-air, all casual like it’s no big deal. "gotcha, kiddo," he’ll say with that teasing grin, acting like he didn't have superhuman reflexes in that moment.
"how do you know they're about to cry?" you’ll ask one day with an eyebrow raised, and he’ll lean in close, smirking, "i can hear their heart race before the tears even come." or when you’re about to check if the baby’s too warm, he’ll casually slide in with, "not a fever, just working up to a diaper change."
and the baby? loves grabbing onto him. they’ll tug at his hair or smack at his chest, and he just lets them, totally patient, playful, letting them explore him like he's their favorite jungle gym. "strong hands," he’ll tease with a grin, "just like their mom." and you’ll gasp and swat at him.
and then there’s the moments where you’re not even aware, but matt? he’s got you both clocked—whether it’s catching the baby from rolling off the bed or knowing exactly when you need an extra hand without you having to say a word. "you know," he’ll say softly, wrapping an arm around you. "i hear you too, sweetheart. every breath, every heartbeat. i’ve got you—let me take care of both of you."
he’s so in tune with everything, it’s almost like magic. but it’s just matt—hyper-aware, always ahead of the game, being both the city's greatest protector and this ridiculously loving, protective dad who somehow knows what the baby needs before they even do. and you? he knows you just as well, maybe even better, appreciating every bit of who you are, body and soul.
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waywardxrhea · 2 months ago
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Matthew
Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader (no use of y/n)
Word count: 2.5k
In the midst of your mourning of Matt after the events of Midland Circle, you decide to visit Clinton Church to feel closer to him. 
Content: angst and lots of it, canon typical violence, guns, language (in a church, whoops), mental breakdown. 
Now playing: Matthew by Hey Violet
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“Matt… He didn’t make it out before the building collapsed. I’m sorry…”
Those words had haunted you every day for months now. You remembered feeling your whole world crashing down around you as your heart shattered into a million little pieces. Your knees had gone numb and you collapsed into Karen’s arms as she told you the horrible news. You had felt pain before, sure, but the worst of it didn’t even touch that of what you felt when you were faced with the fact that Matt had been in the middle of a building collapse and they hadn’t even been able to recover his body. 
The cloud of insurmountable grief hung low around you ever since, and today its burden felt heavier than normal. So you decided to go to the one place you felt you could be close to Matt: Clinton Church. You hadn’t been there since the funeral and as you walked from the train station, you were tormented with the memory of the night Matt left. 
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You were in the middle of cooking dinner for you and Matt when he entered the apartment in a rush, tossing his glasses and cane away quickly before following them with his suit jacket and tie. Sensing the urgency in the way he moved toward the closet to grab his Daredevil suit, you placed the spoon on its rest and asked tentatively, “Everything okay?” 
Matt shook his head as he began haphazardly stripping out of his court clothes, telling you, “The Hand. We’re taking them down tonight.”
Closing your eyes and letting out a quiet sigh, you said, “Matt, please. Please don’t go, I… I just don’t have a good feeling about this. Ever since you told me about what’s been going on with them I’ve been having these nightmares and-”
You were cut off by Matt placing a gentle kiss to your lips, one of his hands holding your chin in place as he did. When he pulled away and released his grip on you, he kissed your cheek before saying, “I know, sweetheart. And I’m sorry, but I really have to go. This could be the only opportunity we get to take them down and I’ll be damned if they keep on ruining lives because I didn’t step in to stop them. I can get through to Elektra. And when I do, this will all be over with.”
You opened your mouth to protest once more, but knew that it would fall upon deaf ears because once Matt had his mind set on something there was no stopping him. It was something you both admired and were terrified of. So you shut your mouth once more and nodded, trying desperately to hold back the sob building in your chest as your emotions began to well up in your eyes. 
Matt was suited up in record time and gave you a quick hug before heading up the stairs that would take him to the rooftop access. He was nearly at the door before you could even clear your throat and calm your shallow breathing enough to whisper, “I love you. Be safe.” You weren’t even sure he heard it as he threw open the door and flew out of it, not acknowledging the statement in his state of hypervigilance on the sounds of the city. 
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Walking into the church felt odd and you offered your best tight-lipped smile to a kind looking man who held the door open for you on his way out. As you walked into the beautiful sanctuary, a new wave of emotions hit you and as your breathing became shallow, you felt light headed and nauseous. Your mind was bombarded with flashes of that night. Of screaming your throat raw in both anger and sadness. Of the funeral. Of the image from your nightmares that had plagued you ever since: Matt’s bloodied and lifeless body. 
A sharp gasp left your chest as a hand was placed on your shoulder and startled you back into reality where you realized you were now leaning most of your body weight onto the back of a pew, trying not to collapse. Through a feeling of cotton in your ears, you heard your name being called softly and you looked up to see the kind eyes of Father Lantom looking back at you. “Are you okay?” he asked, worry evident in his voice. 
Are you okay? 
The stupid question everyone kept asking you. Of course you weren’t okay. In what version of reality would you be okay after losing Matt? You couldn’t tell most people what really happened, your story always landing on the lie that he had been in the financial building on late night business for the firm when it collapsed. It felt like a disservice to Matt’s memory to lie about what he was really doing in there trying to save lives, but it was what you had promised him when he first revealed to you that he was Daredevil: you weren’t to tell a soul. So you didn’t. It was a secret you would take to the grave with you. 
Are you okay? 
As stupid as the question was, and as obvious as the answer was, you were never able to answer because every time someone asked you ended up crying and unable to speak. So just as it had happened every time before, you choked on a sob before the floodgates opened and your vision became blurred by tears, your knees becoming too weak to hold your body weight. You were barely even aware of Father Lantom and a nun guiding you around the edge of the pew and into the plush seat as you slipped off into the depths of a breakdown. 
When you came back to your senses, a small water bottle was being coaxed into your hand and you glanced up to see a stern looking nun gesture for you to take a drink before she got up and left you with the Father. He patted you on the back before telling you, “I have a feeling you’re here to be close to him. Take the time you need. I’ll be nearby if you need me.” You nodded as he got up, watching as he wandered over to someone else to offer his presence in their own time of need. 
Praying had never been your strong suit, so instead of doing that, once you found your voice, you just began talking aloud to the ceiling as if Matt were there. “Hey Matty… I uh… I came here because I’m really struggling right now. I miss you a lot.” You quietly cleared your throat as fresh tears rolled down your cheeks. “I don’t really know what I’m doing so I guess I’ll just tell you what’s been going on.” 
Feeling your keys poking into your thigh reminded you of a little keychain you had on there, so you sighed and said, “They decided to close down Fogwell’s… Not enough members coming anymore.” A quiet huff of laughter left your lips before you added, “Sometimes I feel like you were the only one keeping them in business, but now…” 
Your voice broke again, so you changed course, telling him, “Oh and that piss-beer you drink is more expensive now. It tastes like shit and you know I hate beer, but I keep buying it because it reminds me of you… Dad likes it enough so it doesn’t go to waste.” Sighing, you chewed on your lip before adding, “That reminds me. I moved out of the apartment and back to Hamilton Heights with my parents. I just… I couldn’t stand the quiet of you not being there. God, I would take a million changes though if it meant that you’d still be here…”
The metallic taste of blood suddenly flooded your mouth and only then did you realize that in your minutes of regaining your composure after that statement you had bit into your cheek to keep from completely losing it again. Cringing at the taste, you swallowed it down before telling Matt, “I’ve been really lonely since everything happened… I had to get a new job closer to Mom and Dad’s and it’s hard opening up to anyone so I haven’t really made any friends there. I… I haven’t talked to Karen or Foggy since the funeral either. They remind me too much of you. I know it sounds selfish but…” 
More tears began falling from your eyes and a quiet sob escaped before you said, “I miss your voice so much. It’s been so long since I’ve heard it and I regret ever deleting your voicemails because now it’s getting harder to remember what you sounded like…” Taking a shaking breath, you added, “And I regret stopping my daily journaling. Every time I think of you I just get bombarded by horrible flashbacks and it’s hard to remember the little things. The good things. Those entries from the start of our relationship are all I have left of you and I and it kills me that I don’t have more…”
With your breathing beginning to become shallow again, you opted to finish up before you ended up in another breakdown. “And I know I couldn’t save you from yourself Matthew, but I’ll hold you inside.” Your throat was tight with emotion and you had to swallow hard to even get out your last question to Matt, “Will you haunt me until the day I die?”
“The bastard isn’t gonna have to haunt you for long,” came a deep voice from behind. You froze in fear as you suddenly felt the cold metal of the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of your head. There was a momentary battle in your head between logic and your nagging hopelessness before the latter won out and you let out a slow breath as you accepted what was about to happen, closing your eyes and readying yourself for the Reaper to come get you. 
The shot never came though. Instead, your eyes sprung open when you heard someone near the front of the sanctuary scream. There was a scuffle behind you and you heard fists pounding into flesh and the voice of the man with the gun pleading for mercy before he stopped and you assumed he passed out. You turned around and blinked hard at the sight in front of you. You held tight to the back of the pew, your knuckles turning white as you tried to steady yourself and your spinning head to concentrate on the sight in front of you. Your mind had to be playing tricks on you because there was no way you were looking at Matt Murdock with a piece of fabric haphazardly tied over the top half of his face to hide his identity from the parishioners in the church. 
“Matt?” you asked in disbelief. 
“Get her to safety, I’ll deal with him,” he said, directing his immediate attention to the stern-looking nun who made a reappearance after ushering terrified church-goers out of the building. 
“Follow me, please,” she said as helped you up from the pew. 
Your head was spinning as you were forced up to your feet and into the basement of the church where you were placed on a messily made bed and told that you would be safe there. A flurry of confusion, fear, sadness, and betrayal swirled around in your mind as you tried to make sense of what was happening. Clearly it was real because the nun responded to what Matt had said and the man wasn’t able to kill you. But how? How did he-
“Are you okay?” came Matt’s gravelly voice as he entered the basement, ripping the fabric from his head as he approached and kneeled on the ground in front of you. 
Are you okay? 
This time you weren’t sure if you should be upset or happy or angry in response to the question because there he was, kneeling right in front of you. Alive. Matt wasn’t dead. 
You decided on throwing your arms around him in the tightest embrace you could muster as you shook your head and whispered, “How could you? You bastard…”
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he replied, voice breaking as he returned your hug, his fists clutching onto the fabric of your top. “I messed up. I thought that you would all be better off without me. Without the danger of being close to me. So when that building collapsed and I somehow made it out alive I decided that Matt Murdock was dead.”
“You slipped like sand right through my fingers, did I not love you enough? If you didn’t want to live as you anymore?” you asked, your voice muffled by his shirt.
“No. Never,” he told you firmly. “I did this to protect you.”
“That isn’t your decision to make for me,” you said, your voice breaking again. 
“I know that now and I’m sorry. I just… I thought that you’d be safer without me. But now Fisk is sending his men after you and you still aren’t safe.” Matt finally pulled away from your embrace and tentatively caressed your cheek with a small smile on his lips. “I missed you. And I love you. And I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, wiping away a stray tear that escaped your eye. 
Matt made his way onto the bed beside you and the two of you just held each other for a few minutes before he cleared his throat and said cautiously, “Right…right before I stopped that man from shooting you, your whole body relaxed and your stress levels dropped… What was that about?”
You stopped breathing for a moment when he asked this. After taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, you replied truthfully, “I…I was ready to die. At least then I would have been with you instead of here suffering without.”
Matt had never pulled you into his embrace faster than he did when you admitted that. As he held you close, you could feel him shaking as he cried and you ran a hand up and down his back, trying to calm him down in turn. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he managed to get out between broken breaths. 
You too were overcome with emotions, so you did what you could and held Matt impossibly closer until you were able to come back to yourself. “I meant everything I said up there by the way. Those were the most miserable months of my life.” You pulled away slightly and hesitantly kissed his cheek before telling him, “Please don’t leave me again.”
“I won’t,” he promised. “We’re going to make sure you’re safe and I’m going to take care of Fisk then everything can go back to normal.”
A huff of laughter left your lips before you told him, “Matthew. Your life is anything but normal.”
“Well as normal as it can be. And when the dust clears I hope you’ll still be willing to be by my side,” he said. 
“Forever and always,” you told him, leaning in for a kiss which he reciprocated in the most tender way he could. When the kiss ended, you rested your forehead on his and mumbled, “I love you.”
“I love you too.” 
And somehow in that moment, even after everything that had happened, you felt okay.
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dividers by @firefly-graphics
a/n: okay ngl y’all i cried when i wrote this whoops 😅
anywho! likes and comments are always appreciated! xo, brooke <3
oh also shoutout to those who beta read this! 🫶🏻🐠
taglist: @reidmarieprentiss
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 8 months ago
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the slow night
buttercup, chapter six
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a/n:��he a hoe and I love him. thank you and goodnight.
summary: as the peck blossomed into something much more ravenous, a soft laugh began to billow out of you, “Mr. Murdock,” you tilted your head back as his lips began to flutter down your neck, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you came over here to seduce me.”
warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, smut, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, the black daredevil suit, kissing, semi public sex (at the bakery), clothed sex, dirty talk, hair pulling, oral, protected sex, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms
word count: 3244
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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Leaning against the doorway to the small bakery bathroom, you watched Walter’s tongue poke out the side of his mouth as he flicked glittery stripes of eyeliner over his lids. 
“You sure you’re okay with closing up on your own tonight?” you heard Howard ask you as he sat on a low stool some space behind you, bending down to tie his shoes. 
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you smiled, glancing back over your shoulder at him, “you two deserve a night off.”
Staring out into space, your uncle leaned his tattooed forearms on his robust thighs a moment as he murmured, “you know, I don’t even remember the last time we went out…” casting a glance past you at the bald man in front of the mirror, Howard raised his voice, “honey, did you find out what queens are performing tonight?”
Popping the lid back on the pencil, the former club kid tilted his head approvingly in the reflection, “I think Holly Day still works Friday nights there, but other than that I have no idea,” he exited the bathroom, only to press a small peck to your cheek as he slid passed.
“Urgh,” you groaned with a smile, letting your inner child temporarily show as you dragged the back of your palm over the faint lipstick stain, “well, have fun you two!”
“Night, night, cupcake,” Howard blew you a few brief kisses as the pair scurried out of the shop, “don’t forget to feed the sourdough starter, oh! And mix a new batch of ginger maple cookies, portion them out and pop them in the freezing–, also–”
“Howard,” you interrupted him with a smile just as Walter pulled open the back door for them to exit, “I know what I need to do. I’ve done this countless of times before, I’ll be perfectly fine.”
“Alright,” he exhaled slowly.
“If it’ll help, I can send you a picture of the place before I lock up.”
A relieved smile then warmed up your uncle’s features, “thank you, sweetie.” 
Half yanking his husband out of the door, Walter offered you one last wave, “bye, Y/n!” before the solid door slammed shut behind them. 
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Bending down, you put the last one of the wide and clean bowls away on the bottom shelf of the metal storage system in the corner of the kitchen. 
The skirt of your dress swooshed gently around your legs as you straightened back up, like a summer breeze, fluttering against your skin. Reaching for a clean cloth, you briefly ran it under the tap before wiping down the aftermath beside the sink following your dance with the dishes. One of the tiny puddles of splashed water soaked your apron as you leaned over the steel table to reach deeper, turning it a darker shade of brown right over your belly button. 
Just then, from out of nowhere, “hi,” the voice of your neighbour echoed throughout the kitchen, thoroughly startling you and causing the rag to drop from your grasp.
“Ah!” you jumped, haven not even heard the back door creak open, “Matthew!” pressing a soothing palm to your chest as you spun around, a light giggle flowed from your lips, “oh my god, you scared the crap out of me!”
“Sorry,” he chuckled, leisurely leaning against the far counter close to the back exit. 
You already knew he’d be out on patrol tonight, but actually seeing him stand there before you was something else entirely. The black suit clung tight to his physic, and now that grave injuries no longer distracted and adorned his visage, the vision of the obsidian vigilante that stood in front of you proficiently provided you with a sinful shiver that trickled down your spine. 
“What are you doing here?” you asked, attempting to brush off the tingle that bloomed between your thighs. 
A bold smirk bloomed on his lips, visible below the dark mask, as he slowly stepped closer to you, “it’s a slow night,” gently tugging his gloves off and tossing them to the table he passed, an action you didn’t expect to find as seductive as you evidently did, goosebumps now blossoming all along your arms. 
“A slow night, huh?” you chuckled, tilting your chin as he neared. 
“And I was in the area,” he cocked his head as his hands settled on either side of your frame, leaning against the counter behind you.   
“How convenient,” you smiled, his light-hearted explanations not convincing you in the slightest. Matt’s fingers then found your chin, tilting it further up as he bent down to brush his lips against your own. Your knees nearly buckled as you felt yourself swiftly sink into the intoxicating sensation, your arms gliding up and over the black fabric that hugged him, till they were locked around his neck. As the peck blossomed into something much more ravenous, a soft laugh began to billow out of you, “Mr. Murdock,” you tilted your head back as his lips began to flutter down your neck, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you came over here to seduce me.”
Mirroring your own chuckle, he playfully tested, “and what if I am, huh?”
“Wait, really?” you giggled, your hands seized each side of his face and pulled him back a bit as his hot mouth worked wonders at making you lose your train of thought, “you sure you weren’t just hungry or something?”
“Hm,” his palms slid up to cup over yours as he cheekily said, “something, yeah…” peeling your fingers off of his stubbly cheeks, he placed a few pecks in your open palms, “I would fucking love a taste of something sweet.”
Tearing your gaze away from his onyx visage, you briefly cast a glance around the space, “uhm, I don’t really know what’s left over from today, but there might be someth–”
“Nuh-uh, that’s not the kinda treat I was thinking of,” he smirked brightly as he wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you in closer to his warmth as his fingers sneaked under the apron’s knot. 
Finally reading his obvious subtext, “o-oh,” you couldn’t help but giggle as he then leaned down to kiss you again, swallowing your laugh till it melted away into a low moan that vibrated against his lavish tongue. 
Scrambling closer, you damn nearly climbed him like a tree with how desperately you clawed at his mass. When his touch slid further down your frame and curved around your ass, he briefly offered you a squeeze that you swore soared all the way to the sensitive nerve endings in your throbbing clit, before he scooped you up and sat you down on the steel countertop. As he slotted his width in between your parted thighs, his teeth playfully caught your bottom lip. 
Fluttering your fingers further up, you cupped the sides of his face as the heated make-out slowly began to ease. The tips of your touch grazed the bottom of his black mask as you gently pulled back.
Blinking back at him through your lashes, your digits ghosted over the material as you uttered, “…can I take this off?” 
A faint smile tugged at his lips as he softly nodded, “mhm,” and let you peel the charcoal mask off of him. Letting it drop to the table right beside where you sat, you gazed back at him for a moment, his chocolate eyes gently crinkled up in bliss as you briefly traced a light caress over a few of his newly revealed features before you sealed your lips with his once more. 
Undoubtedly, your panties must have clung to your core at this point from how soaked they felt. 
Abruptly, Matt’s soft lips suddenly strayed from yours. Fluttering your gaze open, a giggle bubbled out of your lungs as you saw him slowly sink down to the tile floor beneath you. 
“Matty,” you beamed, your touch straying from his cheek as he settled down on his knees. 
Slowly raising a sliver of your hemline up to your knees, his lips grazed against your shin and leisurely roamed further north. 
Burying your fingers in the fabric of your dress, you gently began to hike it up till it, and the brown apron, bunched above your hips. 
Your breathing was ragged, and your mouth hung agape when his kisses neared your centre. One of his warm palms stayed planted on your inner thigh after he’d split your legs further to grant himself better access as you sat there, nearly dangling on the edge. 
A shiver ran through you when he placed a brief kiss to the soaked spot soddening your underwear, before his reach extended and hooked the cotton to the side, a sting of your slick clung momentarily to the fabric before snapping back against your core. 
“Fuck,” he let out a gravelly groan and you felt his breath tickle your cunt before his hand, the one not clutching your soaked panties, curled around your frame and tugged you towards him, closing the minuscule distance between his zealous mouth and your glistening centre.
Parting your petals with dizzying laps, Matt let out a moan as he made out with your pussy, the tickling vibrations caused your thighs to tremble beside his head. 
“God…” spellbound, he pulled back for but a second, “your pussy tastes like fucking heaven,” before he tilted his chin and enraptured your clit, fervently sucking down on it in a way that made your eyes roll in your skull. 
“Oh my god, I–, I–…” you panted, sensing yourself race towards the finish line, but even with how incredible his tongue made you feel, deep down within you rumbled a feral feeling for more. As your pelvis bucked lightly against his efforts, you gasped, “Matt… get up…” unsure if you’d ever felt so empty in your entire life, “get up right fucking now.” When he rose, the lower part of his face glinting with your want, he didn’t get a chance to say anything before you yanked him by his shirt and crashed your lips against his. With the intoxicating taste of yourself lingering on your mouth, your heavy breath fanned across his face as you desperately uttered, “in the corner behind you, on the hook beside where my coat is, my bag, the little front pocket.”
Breathlessly, his expression fogged up in soft puzzlement, “what?” 
“I went to the drugstore earlier,” you said, hoping that you wouldn’t have to spell it out for him. 
It actually took him a second for him to realise what you were talking about, “oh,” as if he hadn’t hoped or expected anything more than what you’d just let him do. Crossing the room in mere moments, a playful chuckle rumbled from his chest as he fished out the box of condoms, “this is a big pack… were you planning on seducing me?”
Rolling your eyes, you giggled, “oh, shut up and get back here.”
As soon as he was back in your reach, your fingers began to fiddle with his belt, impatiently freeing him as you virtually drooled seeing the imprint of his cock strain against the dark fabric of his pants. 
“Put it on, please, please, I wanna feel you so bad,” you begged as he ripped the foil packet open. 
“Oh, yeah?” 
“Yes, please,” your hungry eyes were glued to his breath-taking fist as he offered himself a brief pump before he hastily rolled the condom on, “Matt, if you don’t fuck me right now then I’ll lose my fucking mind.”
Sighs flowed from the both of you in unison when Matt sank into your drooling cunt. You almost felt drunk, that’s how wound up you’d gotten.
“Oh, you feel so fucking good,” Matt exhaled, letting his forehead melt against your own as he rolled his hips, getting impossibly deep before drawing back a bit and finding a rhythm that caused your legs to be like crickets, shakily rubbing against either side of his frame as fucked you, “sweetheart–, christ… you’re about to cum, aren’t you?” his lips tilted up into a smirk. 
“D-don’t you dare stop,” you panted, clawing needily against his torso. 
“I won’t, I promise,” he then sank a hand down between your frames to tickle your puffy pearl, “I could do this all day, baby.” 
You collapsed back on your elbows when your pussy fluttered around him and a lewd cry accompanied the high. 
Panting against the cool table, you hazily blinked up at him as he then uttered in the deepest sincerity. 
“God, I'm crazy about you, Y/n,” his expression was soft and dreamlike, “you know that?”
Your eyes went wide a moment, entirely forgetting how to fill your aching lungs, “really?” you then regained control rather gracelessly as you nearly coughed, “sorry... I forgot how to breathe for a second there,” the grin that bloomed on your lips nearly hurt.  
Snatching one of your hands up in his, he weaved his fingers with your own, “you okay?”
“Yeah… I’m amazing…” you gazed up at him, “I’m also completely and utterly wild about you,” you then tugged on his hand, drawing him down enough for your lips to graze against his. 
His hips instinctively rolled as your tongue flicked across his own, grinding briefly into your sensitivity before he noticed and went back to being completely still within you. 
But when your sloppy kiss then parted, you tilted your own hips a bit, slowly fucking yourself shallowly on his cock. As he gently offered you a tender thrust, gradually pulling out of your clinging cunt just a tad, you glanced down between the shy space betwixt you and spotted the ring of your cream that stained the base of his dick. 
“Fucking hell,” you whimpered as he straightened his spine back out and brought the back of your palm up to his lips, “I don’t get how I bounce back so quickly with you. It’s like you just have to smile and then I’m just–, oh my god!” you moaned as he changed his angle, brushing directly against a spot that sent a delicious shiver down your spine. 
“Oh, you like that? Right there?” he repeated the same lavish motion. 
“Y-yes–,” with your interlocked fingers, he then pulled you back up to a sitting position, the shift leaving you breathless, “fuck. You feel so good right now,” his hand let go of yours as it then snaked around your back, his burly forearm supporting your spine as the fingers reached up to weave within your hair, gently scraping his short nails over the nape of your neck.
Drawing you in even closer, your chest pressed against his as he kissed your cheek sweetly while he kept his pace meticulous and precise. 
Hugging onto his broad shoulders, your head dropped down to rest against one of them as you then muttered, “harder,” your gaze hazy on the kitchen behind him before your eyes fluttered shut. When he then snapped his hips forward a little more electrically, you weakly repeated in his ear, “harder.”
Slamming into your needy cunt so fiercely that the sound of your skin colliding echoed off the tile walls and a bit of drool began to stain his dark shirt as your cheek stayed smooshed against his width. 
“That it?” he growled silkily, “huh?” but when you couldn’t form any coherent words within the mess of moans that flowed from your lips, you didn’t have to see his face to know the grin that bloomed on his face, “aw, it’s alright, sweetheart,” his grip tightened in your hair, “you’re doing so good for me,” tugging intoxicatingly right at the roots, “just relax… that’s it… good girl…”
Keeping his pace rough, he lavishly slid out of you till just his bulbous tip plugged you up, before ramming his cock back in so feverishly that you could scarcely breathe at all, just tremble in his embrace, listening to the pure filth that he murmured in your ear, till you both tumbled over the edge. 
With his spent girth nuzzled against your tender pussy, faint hums of contentment flowed from your lungs as Matt gently stroked your hair, his other arm wrapped around you as well as he kept your sluggish frame close to his long after you’d both regained your breaths. 
As your fingers disappeared below his neckline and softly rubbed against the warm skin, your voice eventually found his ear, “okay, so I know that you didn’t come in here for a late-night snack,” the corners of your lips tilted upwards, “but now I’m kinda hungry.” 
With a gentle chuckle rumbling within his chest, he briskly tugged himself away and untangled himself from you, “one second,” his lips pressed against your hairline before you saw him turn around and wander out of the kitchen. 
As you watched him disappear into the front of the bakery, you tugged your panties back over your mess and pushed your dress back down, “oh, I'm not sure if there’s anything left out there–”
“Do you want a raisin bun or a very seedy one?” he asked and your brows flew up as you still hadn’t gotten used to how perceptive his heightened senses let him be. 
“Oh, uhm,” you blinked, completely blown away, “raisin.” 
Appearing before you once more, he handed you the speckled bun, “here.”
Smiling adoringly back at him, “thank you,” you sank your teeth into the pillowy treat before offering him a small bite, which he gladly accepted as a tender laugh rolled out of him. When you had consumed the sweet bun, a soft yawn promptly flowed out of you, “fuck,” his palms were warm at your waist as your arms briefly curled up beside your head, “I can’t wait to get back home and sleep.”
“How much do you have left to do till you can lock up?”
“Not too much,” your hands dropped back down and rested atop of his for a moment, “how about you? How long do you think you’ll be out there?” 
“Probably not too much longer either,” his head tilted gently before he leaned back in. 
“Alright,” you smiled, tenderly pressing your lips to his before he snatched up the discarded mask and tugged it back over his features. As his feet began to carry him towards the exit, he paused as soon as you said, “hey Matt?”
“Yeah?” the vigilante twisted back to face you. 
A bubble of nerves suddenly fluttered in your belly as you uttered, “when you get back tonight, could you maybe–, uhm… or maybe I could–…”
Swiftly getting at what you were trying to convey, Matt simply marched right back to where you sat and pulled you in for a kiss. Cradling your cheeks a moment longer as he slowly pulled back, he smiled, “there’s a spare key to my place behind the radiator in the hallway.”
Gazing back at him, you uttered, “okay,” feeling like you were floating on a cloud. 
“I'll try not to get home too late,” he breathed, pressing his lips to yours one last time before he backed up again. 
Calling after him, “be safe!” he stopped on the threshold of the back door for a second, silhouetted by the dark city as he flashed you a grin before he disappeared into the night, leaving you in the bakery alone, feet dangling off the table as a bright smile tenaciously lit up your face. 
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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bellaxgiornata · 8 months ago
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If We're Being Honest [2/2]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 6k [Part1]
Summary: It's been a couple of months since you drunkenly kissed Matt and you've been avoiding him ever since, but Matt realizes that your absence from his life afterwards pained him more than he ever could've imagined.
Warnings/Tags: Angst with a happy ending, confession of feelings (with a twist), delayed comfort, anxious/depressed inebriated Reader, fluff at the end
a/n: The second and final part of this little fic is finally here! Hopefully the comfort is satisfying enough after the angsty first part. You also get Matt's POV in the first half of this one. Feedback is always appreciated!
Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @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 @lotrefcp @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte
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Matt slid his desk chair back with a sigh, relieved the frustrating work day had finally come to an end. Standing up, his hands felt around his desk for the mess of papers he’d had scattered along it. He gathered them up, neatly stacking them together before he stuffed them back into the folder they'd initially been inside. Bending over, his back muscles protesting the movement from his previous night out as Daredevil, he picked up his briefcase that was leaning against his desk on the floor. Placing the briefcase on top of his desk, he packed the folder inside before closing it up and tossing the strap of the bag over his head, taking a moment to position it comfortably along his shoulder. 
Making his way around his desk afterwards, one of his hands absently grabbed his folded up cane from off of it as he headed towards the door of his office. He could already hear Karen and Foggy in the firm's main room, the pair of them clearly talking about wedding related things. As he stepped out of his office and into the room, he could feel the air shift minutely as both of them looked over in his direction.
“More wedding details, Fog?” Matt asked, walking over to where the pair were leaning against the front office desk.
“Did you know that absolutely everything is a detail?” Foggy complained. “Like napkins. Did you know napkins mattered? Because I didn't. They're literally meant to wipe your dirty face and hands on, why does it matter what they look like? Or what material it’s made out of? It's a napkin!”
“Don't let Marci hear you say that,” Karen teased.
Matt could hear the way her fingers were tapping away at the screen of her phone. Probably sending a text message from the sounds of it. 
“I just want a break from all the wedding planning,” Foggy grumbled. “I feel like half our place is currently storage for some binder or seating chart or wedding magazine or stack of business cards and pamphlets.”
“Well you'll get a bit of a break from it this weekend,” Karen assured him, setting her phone onto the desk beside her. “When we go wedding dress shopping with Marci on Saturday. She'll be talking all our ears off about the details for the whole day instead of yours.”
Foggy let out a dreamy sigh at the thought. “And I'll be relaxing at home by myself thinking about literally anything else while all you lovely bridesmaids, who I'm sure are vastly more interested in color schemes and table decor, discuss all of that,” he replied. 
At the mention of bridesmaids, Matt's mind immediately jumped to you. He hadn't seen you since the night he'd offered to walk you back to his place and let you sleep over after you'd had a little too much to drink at Josie’s. The same night you'd randomly kissed him and told him you'd had feelings for him–something that had come as a complete shock to Matt. 
You had actively avoided him ever since then. Ignoring his phone calls and texts. Never returning a single voice-mail he'd left asking to talk to you about what had happened that night. You'd stopped meeting up with everyone at Josie’s, only spending time with Karen and Marci over the past couple of months. Foggy even only ever saw you whenever you'd stopped by to see Marci at their apartment when helping with the wedding planning. 
Matt expected you to be embarrassed after the incident, especially because he could feel the way your body had reacted before you'd sprinted out of his apartment and back into the rain outside. He'd felt bad, wondering if he'd really done something wrong that night to accidentally lead you on. He hadn’t meant to, he’d just wanted to make sure you were alright. You’d seemed off all night to him, but you had no idea about his heightened senses, so it wasn’t as if he could ask you why your body was all over the place that night. It had been confusing, and the amount of beers you’d drank certainly hadn’t helped him get a read on you, either.
He thought he’d been doing the right thing that night. The fling with that woman wasn’t worth risking you walking home in the rain drunk–which he’d overheard you talking to yourself about doing. He hadn’t wanted to risk something happening to you, because Matt damn well knew what could happen to drunk women walking home alone at night in Hell’s Kitchen. He’d certainly rescued a few himself. But somehow you must’ve misread the entire situation and thought he’d been after more than that. Which was absurd because you’d always just been a great friend to him since he’d met you. A really close friend who he’d been sorely missing lately.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Matt said your name aloud, catching the attention of both Karen and Foggy. “Is she…going to be there this weekend, too?” he asked, trying to sound casual.
“Yeah, she’s one of the bridesmaids,” Karen answered. “So of course she’ll be there on Saturday.”
“I’m guessing she’s still not talking to you then, huh buddy?” Foggy asked him.
Matt sighed, shaking his head. He’d hated the silence from you and he had no idea how to fix things.
“No,” he replied. “She’s still very much ignoring me.”
“I don’t exactly blame her,” Karen cut in. “The whole situation sounded incredibly embarrassing and awkward when you told us why she was avoiding you. Especially considering how quiet she naturally is. For her to just kiss you and then to be rejected by you right after?” 
“Ouch,” Foggy muttered. “Yeah, she’s probably never speaking to you again, man. Sorry.”
Matt ran a hand across his mouth, his shoulders sagging in defeat. The thought of never spending time with you ever again physically hurt. He’d never again hear another one of your ridiculous jokes or have another surprise drop-in lunch visit at the office from you. You always somehow remembered his favorite sandwich from his favorite sandwich shop, too. He’d always thought it was sweet that you’d made a mental note of his particular order, considering you had no idea how delicate his palate was with his heightened senses. Though he supposed now knowing that you’d had feelings for him all along had that attention to detail making more sense.
Standing in the office, an uncomfortable feeling twisted his stomach into knots, his heart squirming in his chest as the realization that you might really be gone from his life fully hit him. He didn’t like it one bit.
“You okay, Matt?” Foggy asked him. “You sort of look like you’re going to be sick.”
Slowly, Matt shook his head. “I just wish I could fix things,” he confessed. “I wish she’d just talk to me again. I don't like this weirdness between us.”
He heard the way the air shifted in the room again. As if both Karen and Foggy had looked at each other. Matt’s eyes narrowed curiously behind his glasses, his head tilting to the side. Both of their heart rates had slightly elevated at almost the exact same moment when they’d done that. 
Why?
“So uh, you really miss her, huh?” Foggy asked.
“Of course,” Matt answered easily. “She’s one of my best friends.”
“Yeah?” Karen questioned.
Matt’s head canted curiously to the side at the odd tone in her voice. What were they getting at?
“Yeah,” Matt reiterated. “She’s been an important person in my life ever since the pair of you introduced us a while back. We always got along so well, and she always had such witty things to say. I miss talking to her. Josie’s just doesn’t feel the same without her anymore.” He ran a hand through his hair in growing aggravation. “I hate that I can’t just call her and hear her voice whenever I want anymore. And that she never randomly stops into the office just to say ‘hi.’. It–it hurts that she’s just gone now.”
The air shifted again as Karen and Foggy clearly exchanged a look with each other. Frustration began to fill Matt at whatever it was they weren’t saying.
“What?” Matt snapped. “You both keep looking at each other, I can feel it. What’s that about?”
Foggy cleared his throat, his attention returning to Matt. “It’s just…are you sure you just miss your friend?” he asked carefully. 
Matt pulled a face at the ridiculous question. “What? Of course I do,” he shot back.
“No,” Karen said, shaking her head. “He means, are you sure you miss her because she’s just a friend to you?”
“Yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to–”
Matt abruptly stopped short, his mouth hanging open for a second as Karen’s words suddenly registered in his mind. Lips pressing together seconds later, Matt’s hands landed on his hips as he shifted his weight on his feet.
“What’re you trying to say?” Matt asked the pair. “That you think I like her? As more than a friend?”
“Well, buddy,” Foggy began carefully, “you’ve been acting pretty moody lately. Ever since she stopped talking to you. And you haven’t been as interested in the ladies, either. We’ve both noticed you turning them down. I don’t think you’ve brought a single person back to your place since that night.”
Matt scoffed, shaking his head. “So? I just haven’t been interested in that exactly,” he replied stiffly. “That doesn’t have anything to do with her.”
“You perk up at her name every time she’s mentioned,” Karen added. “And for the past couple of months you always find some way to randomly ask how she’s doing or what she’s been up to.”
“And when we told you she’d gotten onto that dating app,” Foggy chimed in, “you were in a horrible mood the whole day afterwards. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so grumpy for no reason to quite that extent before. I mean,” he continued with a chuckle, “that was like a Matt Murdock record level of moody. And there was no reason for it that day except for, well, that .”
Matt licked his lips, his fingers digging into his hips through his dress clothes. He’d just been worried about the jerks you might meet on that site, that was all. And he’d been jealous that you were still talking to Foggy, Karen, and Marci but not him. That had been all it was.
Right?
Karen leaned up against the side of the desk, her arms crossing over her chest as she focused on Matt. He bristled under the attention, feeling like he was suddenly on the stand and she was about to interrogate him.
“Let me ask you something,” she began, “and I want you to be honest and really think. How’d you feel when she kissed you that night?”
Matt frowned in her direction. “I told you, it’d been a shock,” he answered. “I hadn’t anticipated her to do that. Then I was worried I’d given her the wrong impression and I felt horrible that I’d upset her.”
Karen was roughly shaking her head at him. “No, how did it make you feel Matt?” she asked again.
“I mean I–” he stopped short again, his mouth closing almost immediately.
In all honesty, with everything that had happened that night, he hadn’t really thought about that. He’d been afraid of you thinking he was trying to take advantage of you when you were drunk, something he’d never do. And then he’d been upset and worried about you running out of his place crying and trying to make it home that night. He couldn’t even follow after you because it wouldn’t make sense that a blind man could navigate his way down the stairwell after you like he knew he’d be able to. And he was certain if he’d called your name down in the lobby–because he shouldn't have been able to know you by the sound of your heartbeat and scent of your perfume–you’d only run out of the building and ignore him. Chasing after you hadn't been an option.
But he had wanted to. Something he hadn’t even thought about after the fact because he’d been so upset at you ignoring his calls and messages. All he'd been focused on was how much it hurt that he'd lost such a great friend. He hadn't really stopped to think about how he had wanted to follow you or how that surprise kiss had made him feel. 
Had he enjoyed it? It had been timid and hesitant, only a brief kiss, but it hadn't been horrible. He'd just…never thought about you like that before. Because you weren't the kind of woman who blatantly threw yourself at him, the type he'd bring back to his apartment for a fuck and then be content to never see again. 
You definitely deserved more than that. 
You were the type someone brought home to meet their parents, the type a guy planned dates for, wanted to spend holidays with. You were the long term, committed relationship type of woman. The type Matt avoided because the thought of something serious scared him, especially with how he spent most of his evenings. 
But he missed you. He missed the scent of your perfume you always wore, the smell sometimes even lingering on his clothes when he'd return home from Josie’s. He missed the way you'd try to fill awkward silences whenever you were with him, always saying whatever random thing was on your mind. He missed the way your heart usually jumped whenever you first spotted him–because he'd always known you were attracted to him but he'd never thought more of it than that. He missed the sound of your voice after a difficult day at work, on days like today. 
“Well?” Karen prompted, breaking through his thoughts. 
“I uh,” he began, pausing to clear his throat, “I guess I never really thought about her like that before. I've always avoided anything possibly serious, and I've always tried to keep her at a distance because she didn't know about Daredevil. So I never really gave it much thought. Especially since she'd always just been there before. But now that she's not…” Matt trailed off, aware of the strange and unfamiliar feeling growing in his chest. “I guess I miss her more than I think I even realized,” he finished softly. 
“So wait, let me get this straight,” Foggy began, excitedly waving his hands in front of himself. “You're just now realizing that maybe you really do like her? Like for real? As more than just a good friend?”
A small smile slid across Matt's lips as he thought of the sound of your laughter and how he wished he could hear it tonight after the shit day he’d had. His hands dropped from his hips, that stupid smile growing a little at the thought of you. “I suppose I am,” he admitted. 
Foggy pushed off the desk and crossed the few steps over towards Matt. Both of his hands flew forward, grabbing Matt's shoulders in a tight grip and lightly shaking him. Back by the desk, Karen tried to hide her laugh behind a hand.
“Then dammit, Murdock,” Foggy ordered, “Go tell her that!”
The smile grew wider on Matt's face, an idea forming in his mind already. If you weren't going to answer your phone, he'd find a way to make sure you couldn’t ignore him. 
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Straightening up your kitchen now that you'd finished with dinner, you paused what you were doing when you heard your phone alert you to a notification. Turning around, you picked it up from where it had been sitting on the counter, curious to what the notification was about. 
Unlocking your phone, you noticed you'd received another message on the dating app you'd downloaded weeks ago. Leaning your back against the nearby counter, a smile drew itself across your lips. It was the first message you'd gotten this week and the sight immediately lifted your mood. The prospect of someone possibly being interested in you had your stomach excitedly jumping up into your chest.
You opened the message, beginning to excitedly read it over. Though the more you read, the faster your smile shifted into a frown. It was yet another sleazy sounding guy clearly trying to talk himself up in a way that sounded both fabricated and disrespectful. You cringed at the things he’d said about your photos–things he clearly thought were meant to be compliments but were vastly inappropriate and made you feel uncomfortable instead of flattered. Reaching the end of the brief message, you were shaking your head and closing out of the app before setting your phone back onto the counter with a roll of your eyes. It wasn't even worth your time responding back to the guy after a few of the things you'd read because he absolutely wasn't a match and you had no interest in ever meeting him.
With a sigh you made your way towards your fridge, your mind now focused on that unopened bottle of wine in there. It looked like you'd be having another night in with yourself tonight. But just as you'd opened the door to your fridge, your hand about to reach in and grab the bottle of red wine, there was a knock at your apartment door. 
You paused, half-bent in front of your fridge as your eyebrows drew together in confusion at the interruption. Assuming it might’ve been Karen or Marci stopping by to go over something for wedding dress shopping which was planned for Saturday, you gradually stood back up and closed the fridge door. You figured that bottle of wine could wait a few more minutes.
Making your way out of your kitchen, you cut through your living room and over towards your door. Unlocking it, you pulled the door wide open without even glancing through the peephole first. Expecting to see either blonde woman standing there, you were stunned to instead find Matt standing in your hallway with a small smile on his lips. 
Your heart lurched its way into your throat at the sight of him, your lips parting in surprise. Hand tightening around the handle of your door in a death grip, you fought your initial urge to just slam it in his face. What the hell was he doing here? Matt was the absolute last person you wanted to see standing at your door after your last interaction with him. It had been a few weeks since that nightmare of a night where you'd drunkenly kissed him and you still became insanely embarrassed at the memory of it. You certainly had no interest in talking to him about it further. You'd already apologized for just kissing him like you'd done, now all you wanted to do was never speak to him again. You figured he had to have gotten the hint already with how you’d been ignoring him.
So why was he suddenly at your apartment?
He said your name, that smile still on his mouth as he held up his right hand. Your face twisted into a look of confusion at the sight of a bouquet of beautiful flowers you hadn’t initially noticed he’d been holding. 
“Can I take you to dinner this Sunday night?” he asked.
Teeth gritting down hard together, your eyes narrowed back at him as anger quickly ignited within your gut. You immediately remembered drunkenly confessing to him that you couldn’t remember the last time a guy had brought you flowers or asked you on a date. Now here he was doing both after he’d just very obviously and clearly rejected you. Did he think this was some way to break the ice between you both after what had happened? Some sort of way to turn everything into a joke?
“Do you think that's funny?” you asked sharply. “Making fun of me like this? As if I don’t feel like an absolute dumbass already, now you come here rubbing it in my face? You don’t like me like that, I got the message loud and clear already, Matthew. I don’t remotely find this funny.”
Matt's expression quickly morphed into one of shock and surprise at your reaction. He shook his head quickly, a crease forming between his dark brows.
“No, that’s–that’s not what I’m doing at all!” he exclaimed earnestly. “I guess I shouldn’t have led with that. Can I just come in and talk to you? Explain everything? Please?”
You were about to tell him no, wanting to hide your hurt, disappointment, and embarrassment behind a wall of anger instead of crying over Matt yet again, especially in front of him once more, but the solemn and desperate look on his face gave you pause. Matt and you had your jokes, but even this would’ve been a bit ridiculous for him to have planned out as a way to smooth things over between the pair of you after what had happened. He’d never seemed callous like that in the past. But the only other thing that would make sense was him actually coming here to ask you on a real date. Which also seemed equally absurd since almost seven weeks ago he’d already told you that you were just a friend.
“I swear if you let me explain, this will seem far less confusing,” he assured you. “Just–just give me five minutes?”
With an irritated sigh, you stepped away from the door. “Fine,” you relented. “Five minutes, Matt.”
An almost nervous smile spread across his lips as he made his way through the doorway and into your apartment. You closed the door behind him, your body a confusing mix of emotions that you were struggling to make sense of right now. You were upset about seeing him again after that embarrassing moment, your anger quickly giving way to discomfort. It didn't help that the tiniest spark of hope had reappeared in your chest at the prospect of him truly being here to ask you out on a date, but you immediately reminded yourself of what happened the last time you’d stupidly thought there was a chance Matt had feelings for you. You didn’t want to wind up misreading things with him a second time.
Turning back towards him, you were met with the bouquet of flowers in his extended hand. It was a stunning mixture of dahlias and greenery that couldn't have been cheap now that you were really looking at it. 
“Dahlias are your favorite, if I’m not mistaken,” he said softly. “I remembered you mentioning that before at Josie’s when Marci had been talking about flowers for the wedding.”
Eyes darting up from the bouquet in his hands, they landed on his face. He still looked nervous and you weren’t entirely sure what to make of that. Matthew Murdock never outwardly got nervous. You also weren’t sure what to make of him remembering your favorite flower months after you’d brought it up around him just once. 
Not knowing how to really respond, the confusing mix of emotions in your body only growing, you hesitantly reached a hand out and accepted the flowers. “Thank you,” you murmured. 
In an attempt to keep your hands busy, and because you weren’t remotely interested in being the one to lead the conversation, you made your way back into your kitchen. You were aware of Matt following after you as you searched for the lone vase in one of your kitchen cabinets. Eventually you found it and began to fill it with water, impatient for Matt to say something as you kept your back to him. 
“About that night,” Matt began cautiously, “when I’d invited you to stay over and you kissed me?”
Turning off the kitchen faucet, your eyelids slowly lowered. Your body tensed, bracing yourself for whatever was coming next. Keeping your back to him, you knew you couldn’t bear to look at him right now with whatever he was about to say. The jumbled, drunken memory of that evening came flooding back to you and you were immediately hit with a wave of embarrassment, tears stinging at your eyes behind closed lids. You remained silent though, waiting for him to continue.
“I hadn’t anticipated that, if I’m being honest,” he finally continued, still speaking in a measured tone. “My intention had been to make sure you made it somewhere safe that evening because I knew you’d drank a bit more than usual. I couldn’t stand the thought of you walking home alone drunk at night in the rain. So I’m sorry if I was giving off signals to you that were other than that at the time because they weren’t intentional.” He paused, clearing his throat lightly. “And it–it wasn’t exactly until this afternoon that I realized maybe some of them were subconscious because I hadn’t quite realized what I actually felt until today.”
Your hands tightened around both the vase and the bouquet of flowers as you held your breath. That flicker of hope had grown just marginally in your chest without your permission, and now it was teetering on the edge of growing larger or diminishing itself entirely. You felt like you couldn’t take another breath as you waited for him to clarify what he meant.
“It’s been weeks since we’ve talked,” Matt said, pain in his voice. “Weeks since you’ve come to Josie’s or stopped by the office. Or answered one of my phone calls. And everyday has just felt off because of it. Because I miss you. And I thought for the longest time it was just because I was missing one of my best friends, but then Karen and Foggy apparently caught onto something that I hadn’t even noticed in myself.”
With shaking hands, you opened your eyes and slipped the bouquet of flowers into the filled vase. Nervously you turned around, reaching your hand out to set them onto the counter next to you before your gaze finally landed back on Matt. He was standing at the other end of your small kitchen now, and it was almost as if he knew your eyes were on him as a gentle smile began pulling up the corners of his lips.
“If we’re being honest,” Matt confessed, “I’ve always tried to avoid relationships. I haven’t had the best of luck with them, and well, there are things someone actually dating me would need to be made aware of–something I generally don’t open up about. But I think I’d be ready to discuss that with you after dinner Sunday night if you’d let me take you out.” 
He paused, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet as he gripped his cane tighter between both of his hands. Briefly you wondered what things he meant, but he was speaking again before you’d had long to contemplate that comment.
“The truth is, I didn’t truly realize what you meant to me until you were no longer a constant in my life,” Matt admitted. “And I can’t stand not having you around. Not just because you’re my friend, but because I have feelings for you, too. Feelings that are more than friendly that I’d like to explore further if you’d still be willing to as well.” 
Heart skipping a beat entirely in your chest, you exhaled a quivering breath at the admission. Matt liked you. You . He’d really come here to bring you flowers and to ask you on a date, not to mock you or make light of your currently sad and lacking situation of a love life. You heard him let out a nervous laugh as your mind continued to race at everything he was saying.
“I uh, really wish you’d say absolutely anything right now,” he continued, “because your silence is scaring the hell out of me. I can’t tell if you’re still mad or just trying to process everything.”
Swallowing hard, you tried to find the words to express how you were feeling. You could barely understand your own mind right now after he’d dropped all that on you. You'd gone so long never believing he'd be interested in you like that, and then after what had happened weeks ago when he'd blatantly rejected you, you really figured you'd never be anything more to him. But now here he was telling you the opposite and you could hardly believe it.
“I’m still sort of processing,” you replied, voice just above a whisper. “I wasn’t exactly expecting to hear you ever say any of that. Certainly hadn’t been expecting to hear any of this tonight.”
A sheepish smile tugged at his lips just before he hung his head, nodding lightly. “Yeah, it sort of surprised me earlier, too,” he told you. “I’m shocked I wasn’t quite as aware of my own feelings as Karen and Foggy seemed to be, but uh…that probably has a little something to do with some other things going on in my life.”
Chewing your lip nervously, you continued to take in the sight of him standing across from you in your kitchen. He was still dressed in his dress clothes from work, clearly having finished late and having come straight here to see you afterwards. The nerves in your stomach gradually intensified as you took in the smile on his handsome face that you could somewhat make out despite the way he’d ducked his head. Seconds later his covered gaze rose up, falling back on you. You only gnawed on your bottom lip faster, something electric feeling like it was sparking between you both in the small space all the sudden. A feeling that hadn’t been there seconds ago.
“So I suppose now I’m curious to know if you’d let me take you to dinner Sunday night, since I know you’ve got plans for Saturday?” Matt asked hopefully. “Would that…be something you’d like?”
“Yes,” you whispered, nodding immediately.
Matt took a few steps forward, the smile that had been lighting up his face growing warmer. His hands reached up, removing the glasses from his face before he slipped them into the inside pocket of his suit coat as he continued to make his way towards you. You leaned further back into the counter behind you, your hands landing on either side of the countertop as you tried to steady yourself. You weren’t entirely sure what he was doing, but there was a glint in his eye that had your breath coming in sharper than usual.
“And in that case,” Matt continued, his voice dropping a few octaves to something sultry and soft, the sound increasing your pulse as he continued to close the gap between you both, “would it be alright if we had a redo of our first kiss? This time with both of us sober and actually anticipating it?”
Breath still coming in shallow, it was difficult for your brain to send the signal to your mouth to actually formulate a sentence. You’d managed a quiet noise in response as he came to a stop just in front of you, his body mere inches from yours as he set his cane to the side. You could practically feel something sparking between the pair of you as he just stood there, his eyes focused along your chin. His head tilted to the side as if in silent question when you hadn’t given him a verbal confirmation.
“I–yes,” you finally answered.
He leaned in, moving so painfully slow as he came to rest his forehead against yours. His hand was suddenly on your neck, delicately gliding his fingertips upwards until the palm of his hand cupped your cheek, cradling it in his warm hand. His thumb rested just beneath your jaw, somehow knowingly tilting your mouth up further towards his at just the right angle. You felt lightheaded beneath his touch and the close proximity, your body involuntarily sinking forward into his when the tip of his nose just barely brushed against yours.
Matt shifted just the slightest bit before you felt his lips finally land on yours. Your eyelids immediately fluttered shut, a faint sigh sneaking out of your throat at how soft his lips were–softer than you recalled them. With the way he carefully began to move them against yours, you felt your knees going weak. Hands releasing the grip you had on the countertop, they darted forward and grabbed fistfuls of his dress shirt, just beneath his suit coat. 
As you held onto him like a lifeline, his mouth pressed more firmly against yours. Fingers curling into his dress shirt, you pulled him roughly into your body. He stumbled forward into you, a rumbling growl coming from his chest in response. The delicious weight of him against the front of you only pressed you farther into the counter behind you as his other hand landed on your hip, gripping it tight.
It wasn't until a few minutes later that Matt gently broke away, his own breath heavy as he rested his forehead back to yours. Your tongue darted out, licking your damp lips as you tried to catch your breath. You could still taste him on you, the realization causing you to actively have to stop yourself from leaning forward and kissing him again. 
“Well there's–there's certainly something there,” Matt said with a breathy laugh. “But uh, maybe we should leave things there until after Sunday night?”
You nodded, though it was hard to fully agree when his hips were still pressing you back into your kitchen counter and his mouth was mere inches from yours. Especially knowing how damn good of a kisser he was now, you wondered what else he did well.
“Right,” you breathed out.
He shifted against you, burying his face against the crook of your neck as he wrapped his arms around you. You couldn't fight the smile on your face at how he clearly didn't want to pull away from you, instead getting closer to you. You'd never seen him this affectionate with anyone else before.
“I missed you,” he murmured against your neck. 
Tentatively your hands released their grip on his shirt, your own arms snaking their way around his waist and drawing him closer. You came to rest your forehead against his shoulder, eyes closing as you relaxed into him. 
“I missed you, too,” you admitted. “And I'm sorry for getting drunk and kissing you like an idiot and then ignoring you for weeks.”
“Well, I admit it wasn't great being ignored by you,” he said, his lips tickling you as he spoke. “But at the same time, if you hadn't done either of those, I might never have realized how I felt about the woman who'd always been right in front of me the whole time.”
Your smile grew, your arms holding him a bit tighter. “I suppose that makes me feel a little less embarrassed, then.”
Matt nuzzled his face further into your neck, the bit of stubble on his cheeks pleasantly tickling you. You couldn't fight the giggle that slipped out of you in response. Seconds later you swore you felt his mouth pulling into a smile against your skin. 
“So Sunday night,” Matt began slowly, “if I show up with flowers for you again, you're not going to yell at me, are you?”
You couldn’t resist the laugh that fell out of you. Burying your face further against his shoulder in slight embarrassment, you replied, “No, I'm definitely not going to yell at you for bringing me flowers again.”
“Good,” he said, amusement in his tone. “Because that was admittedly a terrifying experience.”
The pair of you fell into a fit of laughter in your kitchen, arms still wrapped around each other as you did. As the pleasant sound filled your apartment, the pair of you holding onto each other tightly like neither wanted to be the first to let the other go, you couldn't help but think about what a turn everything had taken all because you'd drunkenly misread a situation and kissed your friend.
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peterman-spideyparker · 9 months ago
Text
Three Little Murdocks (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I've been sitting on this for a bit, but I just need to share it because I love happy Matt, but I think I love Dad!Matt more. Enjoy! :)
Summary: You and your daughters look at Matt like he's all the stars in the sky, and to Matt, you and the girls are his whole universe--and that universe is about to get another little planet.
Warnings: Fluff so sweet I might have created word cavities, flirting, Matt being happy daddy, pregnancy announcement, one swear
Other Characters: None
Word Count: 994
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You swear, Matt’s super hearing is genetic. Every day when he comes home, the girls always seem to know before you do. Their little feet patter towards the door as they giggle and excitedly call for their father.
“Daddy!” they cheer as he walks through the door.
Bending down, a bright smile takes over his face, beautiful crinkles appearing at the corner of his eyes behind his red glasses. He holds onto them tightly, giving them kisses on the top of their heads.
“My little angels,” Matt breathes, giving them each another kiss on their foreheads. “I missed you both so much.”
“We missed you, too, daddy,” Felicity says, squeezing her father just as tightly as she has him wrapped around her little finger.
“You two aren’t the only ones that missed your father,” you chuckle as you walk over to the entryway. “Girls, can you put some silverware and napkins on the table for me, please?”
Felicity and Stella hug their father tightly once more before Felicity takes her little sister’s hand and they prance off to the kitchen.
“Hey, baby,” you smile as you wrap him in a hug of my own, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” he hums, leaning in for another kiss.
“Busy day?” you ask as you run your fingers through his hair, massaging the pads of your fingers on his scalp, nails gently raking across the skin. Matt closes his eyes and lets out a hum as your fingers work to relieve tension from his body, nothing but bliss on his face as he basks in your embrace.
“That’s one way to say it,” he sighs. 
“Do you think you could take a night off from Deviling, tonight?”
He immediately beings to tense again. “Everything alright, angel?”
“Everything’s fine, Matty. I promise,” you assure, continuing to run your fingers through his fluffy hair to bring him back down. “I just think a night in might do you good. Relax and regroup, that’s all.”
“No ulterior motives, Mrs. Murdock?” he smirks as he brushes his nose against yours. After six years of marriage, he can still act like a horny idiot who just got married. 
You giggle as a blush rises to your cheeks. “Maybe only partially,” you admit. “Will you stay, Matty?”
“Of course. I’ll get more time with all of my girls.”
A big smile spreads across your lips, one that Matt almost instantly mirrors.
“Go take off your suit, get into something more cozy, and get your cute butt to the kitchen. The girls helped me make one of your favorites with dinner.”
“Gram’s Colcannon potatoes,” he smirks. “I could smell them from down the street.”
“Get to it, then—even if your butt does look fabulous in these slacks,” you smirk as you pat his butt.
Matt smiles big once more, capturing your lips with his once more as his arms wrap around your middle, making you lean back to offset his force. 
“Ew!” the girls groan from the kitchen.
Pulling back from the kiss, both Matt and your sigh at our girls’ reactions, and you know that the two of you get the same idea almost immediately. Turning to face your daughters, you both smirk before you chase them for hugs and kisses, giggles bubbling from all of your chests filling your house.
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“You know, I really miss the loft, sometimes,” you sigh as you rest your head on Matt’s chest as you sit on the couch, the girls all tuckered out and tucked in. “There was just something about that place I loved so much.”
“I know what you mean, angel. But can you imagine us trying to raise Felicity and Stella there? Not enough space to contain all that energy,” he chuckles. “I mean, do you remember when Felicity started crawling? She was everywhere and trying to crawl on every surface that she could.”
“Hm, and I wonder where they get that from,” you tease, poking his bicep playfully. Matt immediately responds with a smile, leaning over to press kisses in your neck, making you giggle as goosebumps spread all over your body. “Hey, Matty?”
“Yeah?” he says, satisfied with the affectionate assault on your neck, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. 
“I’m pregnant.”
You feel him shift from under you, moving to face your front better. 
“Seriously?” he beams, his hands subconsciously moving down your sides and over your stomach as if he’s trying to feel for the itty bitty baby that’s half you and half him.
“Seriously,” you confirm smiling back just as bright as he pulls you in for a kiss, laying your bodies down together on the sofa. 
“Wow,” he smiles, a slew of emotions flying across his expressive face within only a couple of seconds. “I . . . Wow.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on it sooner,” you giggle. “I mean, you knew about Felicity and Stella before I did.”
“Honestly, me too,” he chuckles, and you can hear the rich emotion in his voice as his face is aglow with nothing but pure and utter joy. “I guess between the girls and the cases and Daredevil, my attention’s been a bit divided lately.”
“Or you’re just tired?” you tease. “Or better yet, you’re at ease and aren’t on edge, listening to every creak in the bricks.”
“Bricks don’t creak, sweetheart.”
You press a kiss to his cheek, his stubble tickling your lips and you snuggle down into him. “Shut the fuck up.”
He chuckles softly and he holds you close. “I’m just glad we don’t have to move this time.”
“But it does mean that you probably won’t get to have your at-home office anymore,” you say with a pout. “Sorry, hon.”
Matt leans forward, kissing your protruding lip, his face glowing and his eyes sparkling. “I think I’ll survive. I’ve got my girls, and now I’ve got a new little bean sprout to love. I couldn’t be better.”
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returnsandreturns · 10 months ago
Text
a silly thing
--
Foggy’s mom keeps the baby at their apartment for the first couple of weeks while Foggy tries to sort out how to manage this insane thing he’s attempting—raising a kid at the age of twenty while doing a full courseload at an Ivy League. They only drink once, a few days before Foggy’s set to move into new housing.
“Nobody’s going to judge you if you find him another home,” Matt says.
“I can’t do that,” Foggy says, immediately. “Not—I mean, you came out great, Matty, but the shit you had to go through. I can keep him safe from that.”
Matt smiles at him, feeling a little bit like crying but that’s probably the alcohol, and says, “I wish I could move with you. It would help to have two people, wouldn’t it?”
“You’d have to marry me, I think,” Foggy says, laughing then stopping abruptly when he sees the apparently very obvious look on Matt’s face. “Oh, no, Murdock. No. You’re not gonna propose out of pure Christian selflessness right now, buddy, that would be crazy.”
“It’s just paperwork,” Matt says, grinning.
“Life altering paperwork,” Foggy says, firmly, rambling, “and only one bed in the apartment and—do not get on one knee, Matt, I swear to—I can’t let you upend your life to raise a kid with me! We’re still kids, basically! Oh, Christ, you look earnest.”
“Marry me,” Matt says, very much on one knee, feeling a little bit giddy but not out of his head or anything. He’s wanted to offer this since the moment he found out Foggy would be moving out.
“You’re drunk,” Foggy says, accusingly.
“I’m tipsy at worst,” Matt says. “Marry me.”
“One bed,” Foggy says.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Matt says, dismissively.
“You can’t bring home hot girls,” Foggy says.
“I don’t do that now,” Matt says. “Marry me. We’ll figure all of it out.”
Foggy sighs loudly.
“Okay,” he says, throwing his hands up. “I’ll marry you.”
Matt grins and climbs back onto the bed to pull him into a hug.
“I promise I want this,” he says, softly, nervous when Foggy’s heart beats even faster than it has been.
“Thanks, buddy,” Foggy murmurs, holding him back tightly.
They get married at the courthouse and Matt kisses Foggy because it feels like the right thing to do for more reasons than one. Foggy just laughs and kisses him back, cupping Matt’s face in his hands, and neither of them say anything about it. They just go get lunch and break the news to Foggy’s mother who looks extremely tired but doesn’t object much and spend the day there with the baby.
Sam is, according to Foggy, the cutest baby to ever exist—blonde and giant brown eyes and chubby cheeks—and, also according to Foggy, fascinated by Matt.
“Seriously,” Foggy says, laughing. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since we got here.”
“That’s a good sign, right?” Matt asks, grinning when Sam grabs for his glasses, sliding them up higher on his head. “I mean, I’m pretty fascinated with him, too.”
“Yeah,” Foggy says, softer and a little shaky, “it’s a really good sign.”
“You okay?” Matt asks, adjusting Sam in his arms when he starts grasping at his shirt, holding him close.
“God, yeah, I’m fine,” Foggy says, laughing. “You’re just. . .you’re a really good friend, Matt. That’s all.”
“Hey, I’m just in it for the tax write-offs,” Matt says, flatly, pressing a kiss to Sam’s extremely soft head and grinning happily when Foggy laughs. He knows this is weird but he can’t imagine a world where he just let Foggy go off and struggle on his own. Not when they could be together.
Foggy’s mom teaches him how to change a diaper that night. That part’s rough. But he can deal with it.
The first day in the apartment is a mess of Nelsons helping them move in and finally just the three of them, equally exhausted, collapsed on the uncomfortable school supplied couch. Foggy puts Sam down and then they go to bed together for the first time. There’s a confusing period of about one minute before Foggy says, “I know you’re a little spoon,” and Matt says, “. . .yeah, okay,” and then it’s the most comfortable sleep that Matt’s had. . .ever. Even with the baby waking up four times and them taking turns checking on him.
“I think this is going to work,” he says, over breakfast a few weeks in.
“Yeah?” Foggy asks.
“I mean, I think Sam might like me better, which could be awkward,” Matt says, lips twitching, “since you’re his dad and all.”
“You’re kinda going to be his dad, too,” Foggy says. “Depending on how long we do this. But that’s a conversation I don’t like to think about which we probably should have already had—the how long part, at least.”
“As long as you want me,” Matt says, immediately.
“Well, a kid is. . .forever,” Foggy says.
“I have forever,” Matt says, blushing suddenly and turning away to try to hide it. Because he means it—really, really means it. “If you—if you want forever.”
“Matt, you’ll probably want to meet someone and get married eventually,” Foggy says, cautiously. “Someone you actually want, I mean.”
They already got married, moved in together and are raising a child. It’s not a leap. Matt has to remind himself of this several times, before he says, “I already did that, Foggy.”
Foggy’s heartbeat is crazy and Sam decides to start screaming at the same time.
“I’ll get him,” Matt says, quickly.
Sam is happy and cooing in his arms when Foggy comes in and asks, softly, “You were being serious, right? You have feelings for me? . . .forever feelings?”
“I don’t think I knew it until we kissed at the courthouse,” Matt says, thinking back to the feeling he had after Foggy kissed him back. How everything made sense even though they were being insane. How it felt like they should have been doing it all along. “But I do, I want you. And I want to be. . .I want to be Sam’s dad.”
It smells a little bit like tears but Foggy just carefully leans up, with Sam between them, to kiss Matt softly.
“Let’s do this,” he says.
“We’re going to lose him in a snowdrift,” Matt says.
Several months have passed and they’ve been exhausting and difficult and perfect ones and now there’s snow on the ground and a puffy baby snowsuit purchased by Marci who refused to hold Sam because she finds babies to be haunting cautionary tales but does like buying him clothes. He feels like a pillow when Matt picks him up.
“It’s bright green!” Foggy says. “We’d spot him eventually. C’mon.”
When they tramp outside onto the lawn, Matt says, grumpily, “His cheeks are getting cold.”
“Just because you hate snow and joy doesn’t mean our son has to,” Foggy says, laughing then pausing at the look on Matt’s face. “What did I say?”
“Our son,” Matt says, smiling. “I don’t think you’ve ever said it like that before.”
“This is a good weird and misty face, then?” Foggy asks.
“Yeah,” Matt says, nodding.
“Well, I bet our son will love snow,” Foggy says, warmly. “Let’s sit him down.”
As soon as Sam’s tiny hand brushes against the snow, he starts screaming and Matt looks smug.
“How does he take after you?” Foggy asks, huffing. “You’re not even blood related.”
“He’s just a very smart baby,” Matt says, hefting him back up onto his hip.
“And you’re really fucking cute together,” Foggy says. “I’m taking pictures.”
Matt’s smile is more real than its ever been.
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