#matt murdock x reader fanfiction
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ddejavvu · 1 year ago
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m.list - matt murdock
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blurbs:
you interrupt matt's patrol
matt's tired after patrol
you like matt's chest hair
professor!matt
showering with matt
matt + "where did your clothes go?"
prince!matt
kidnapper!matt
matt + edging
matt + enemies to lovers
stalker!matt | 2
matt comforting you after a nightmare
you're insecure during sex
matt notices your harmful habits
matt cuddles you on your period
mafia!matt
matt learns to braid
patching matt up after patrol
priest!matt
roommate!matt
matt + rivals to lovers
matt makes a better second impression
your dog likes matt's seeing eye dog
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peterman-spideyparker · 1 year ago
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Strange (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I've been meaning to post this for months as the sequel to 6B inspired by this instrumental cover, but the actual inspiration to post it and get it out of my drafts folder has been lacking. I hope you all enjoy! :)
Summary: You've gotten to know your neighbor, Matt, and have grown very close to him over the last few months. Not only that, but his friend group has readily accepted you into the fold. But when they want to come and see a concert you're in and things start to go wrong, you're not only worried about the performance, but letting them down.
Click here for some listening inspiration!
Warnings: Fluff (Matt and Reader being sooo into one another but unable to just say it, kissing, Matt being supportive), angst (Reader has a panic attack)
Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, Karen Page
Word Count: 2,349
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“You know,” Foggy says as he downs his drink. “I could have been a butcher.”
Karen and Matt groan, which means this is a frequent story that Foggy likes to tell anyone who can listen.
“Please, spare her this one,” Matt begs melodramatically. “You’ll scare her away.”
“Yeah, and it’s been nice for me these last few months to have another woman in this circle of weird,” Karen chuckles before she drinks her beer. 
“No, no, it’s okay,” you say with a small smile, sipping your drink. “Tell me.”
“Fine, we’ll go with the abridged version: I wanted to break ranks from cured meat, got into Columbia to do law, expected to get rich, and now get paid in bananas and strawberry rhubarb pie,” Foggy huffs.
“Yeah, but that pie means you’re doing good work helping the people that need it. And it’s a delicious perk of friendship with you guys,” you grin as you all clink your drinks together.
“Professor (Y/L/N)?” you hear a voice call through the noise of the bar.
You all look over, and you notice a small group of your students at a table in the bar. They wave and cheer, making their way over to where you sit.
“Hi guys,” you smile. “It’s nice to see you out instead of in rehearsal.”
“Well, even the workaholics gotta take a break,” one of your students says.
“We just wanted to say hey before we left,” another says. “We’re on our way to dinner at a friends. But we’ll see you in class and at your concert.”
At the mention of your upcoming performance, you feel a blush burn on your cheeks as you wave goodbye to them, knowing you're about to undergo the third degree.
“You’ve got a concert coming up?” Matt says, turning toward you, his knee brushing against yours.
“Yes,” you confirm with a sheepish dip of your head.
“Is she trying to be humble as a way to dissuade us from gathering more information, counselor?” he leans over to Foggy.
“I believe so,” Foggy hums. “Ms. Page, since the client is hostile, we are enlisting your investigative journalism talents.”
“My rates have gone up,” she chuckles as she brings her drink to her lips. “I don’t think you can afford it.”
“I’m assuming you’re gonna keep this jig up until I tell you what you want?” you interject.
“Ah, so astute, Ms. (Y/L/N),” Matt smirks.
“Saturday at seven in the Miller Theatre at Dodge Hall on campus. Happy?”
“Extremely. Nelson and Murdock always gets their case,” Foggy laughs.
“What kind of music are you going to be playing?” Karen beams with interest.
“Nothing special, really. I’m going to do some conducting, playing some covers, and some original pieces—.”
“Originals?” Foggy grins.
“This is why I didn’t want to tell you,” you say softly. “I appreciate you enthusiasm, really, it means a lot.”
“But you don’t want us there,” Matt says softly, picking up on your tone.
“I mean, it’s not that I don’t want you there, I just . . . it’s embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing?” Foggy repeats.
“But musicians want people to hear their music, right?” Karen continues.
“I love to share my music. But when people I know are in the audience—.” You shrug, an overwhelming sense of inadequacy washing over you. “It’s like I’m gonna disappoint them.”
The mood of the group is immediately changed, and you feel your face grow hot again.
“Listen,” you start again quietly. “I have to teach an early class tomorrow morning. I’ll see you guys later.”
You pull the money out of your wallet to cover my beers, giving a gentle squeeze to Matt’s knee as you wave goodbye to your friends. 
“(Y/N), wait!” you hear Matt call after you on the sidewalk. “Wait!”
You stop in your tracks, turning in time to watch him fold up his cane. “Matt, listen—.”
“No, please, let me,” he breathes as he comes to a halt in front of you. “I’m sorry if we made you feel weird. We just want to be here to support you. If us coming to your concert would make you uncomfortable, we won’t come, but we’ll be with you in spirit. But I can say with confidence that no matter what, you could never disappoint us—you could never disappoint me.”
You give him a soft smile, and you lean forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Matt,” you tell him. “If you guys want to come, you can. Just keep the expectation bar low?”
A soft laugh falls from his chest, and it’s more beautiful than any composition you could have put together. “If it makes you feel better, we will keep the bar on the ground. Now c’mon, let me walk you back to your place.”
“You sure it’s not out of your way, Murdock?” you grin.
He loops his arm in yours and lets out a long sigh. “It’d be a bit of a hike, but, I’d only do it for you.”
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“Please, please, please,” you breathe as you move into the audience, hoping this is one of the rare occasions that your friends didn’t listen to you. You almost burst into tears when you see Matt, Foggy, and Karen in the front row with flowers in hand. Before you can even move to try and get close to them, you watch as Matt gets up from his seat and unfurls his cane, slowly approaching you.
“Matt!” you call softly, watching him turn his head in your direction.
“You okay?” Matt asks you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “You’re oozing nerves so much a blind man can tell.”
“I . . . no,” you whimper. “The last song is a duet—piano and violin. My pianist just called and has the stomach flu and is currently in the hospital for dehydration. I-I . . . Matt, I don’t know what to do. I’m freaking out—I don’t freak out, and I’m freaking out.”
“(Y/N)—.”
“See, I could do it, but I can’t play the violin and piano at the same time. I have to think of something new on the fly. I can’t think on the fly like this. I wrote that piece months ago for tonight, and now it’s out the window! I can improvise when I play, but I can’t think of a new plan on the spot.”
“(Y/N), you need to take a deep breath.”
“What does a heart attack feel like? I think I’m having a heart attack.”
Matt places your hand on his chest, square in the middle, mirroring the action with his own. “Take some deep breaths for me, okay? I’m right here. Focus in on my heartbeat.” You match your breathing with his, putting all your focus into your breathing pattern. “There you go. Nice and slow, just like that. Tell me how I can help.”
“Matt—.”
“Please. Let me at least try to help.”
You suck in your bottom lip and bite it, grabbing his hand and pulling him to one of the side rooms with a piano.
“You said you played piano in church when you were little, right?” you confirm as you sit on the bench, pulling him down next to you.
“Yeah, I did,” he nods.
“I’m really hoping that brain of yours is photographic-adjacent,” you say as you sit on the bench. You begin to press the keys gently, the notes softly reverberating in the room. You play it as you have a million times before, and you can tell by Matt’s laser-focused on how you press the keys: he’s absolutely astonished by each note, capturing the sound and storing it away in his mind. When you finish, you turn on the bench and look at him while he looks at you with nothing but affection. 
“That was absolutely amazing,” he breathes, sounding utterly awestruck.
You blush, immensely flattered. “Do you think you can mimic it?”
“I think it’s doable,” he says with a gentle but confident grin. "Can I ask, why me? There's a stage full of musicians behind the curtain."
"I trust you," you say, your heart racing once more. "And that's not to say I don't trust them, but, I think you're the only one that can help, and I trust you with every bone in my body."
He places his hand on top of yours. "Let me give it a try."
You move from the bench, allowing Matt to take your place as he replicates the piece note for note, sounding identical to what you just played.
“And just when I think you couldn’t get more amazing,” you whisper with a smile, almost on the verge of tears from being so grateful. “Are you comfortable going up and doing that at the end of the night?”
“Of course. For you, of course,” Matt breathes. 
You smile, leaning forward to kiss his cheek before you take his hand and pull him from the bench and back to the main performance hall. “I can walk you up to the stage when it’s time,” you tell him. “I’ll never be able to thank you for this, Matt. Honestly.”
“Save your thank-you’s for when the night is over,” he hums, giving your hand a tender squeeze. “You’ll be amazing—you are amazing. And I will be right there with you every step of the night, with every note you play.”
With a shaky breath, you squeeze his hands once more before you resume your position backstage, and give a pep-talk to your performers. By the time you make it to the stage, you go on auto-pilot, tuning into your performers, the audience, and how everything comes together as you lead them and play matching melodies with instruments of your own. You feel extra flushed when you reach the near-end of the program when you have to address the audience before your final piece.
“This next song will be the last one of the night,” you start. “I want to thank you all for taking the time out of your busy lives to come here and enjoy the music brought to you by these absolutely talented musicians. This last piece is an original duet I have put together over the last couple of months. New York isn’t my home. I grew up all across the country, but I first came to this city to get my degree from this very institution. Fate brought me back here, and even though I lived in this city for the formative years of my adult life, everything felt so new and different when I came back, but it also felt like I hadn’t left for a moment. It was strange. Upon my return to the city, I met a spectacular human that embodies that strangeness, but also oozes hope, kindness, empathy, and acceptance, and I’m honored that he has agreed to join me in my final performance of the night on the piano.”
Moving down from the stage, you meet Matt at his seat, offering your arm for him to take as you guide him up to the piano. As he sits, he squeezes your hand one more time, just as he has so frequently before, and you know that no matter what happens in the next three minutes, everything will be okay because Matt believes in you, even if you haven’t believed in yourself. Softly, you count off, Matt gently pressing on the keys for a few notes before you join in on the violin. Everything blends together beautifully—better than you ever could have imagined. You both play as if you were a duo that have been playing together all of your lives, and you don’t exactly process that the song is over until it happens and the crowd rises to their feet and erupts in applause. You put your instrument down, taking Matt’s hand and bringing him to the edge of the stage to take a bow with you as the curtains close. You wrap Matt in the biggest hug you physically can, burying your face into his neck.
“I’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you just did,” you breathe into him. “Thank you so much, Matty.”
He squeezes you tight, holding the back of your head and smoothing down your hair. “You were amazing, angel,” he whispers before leaning back from the hug. “Everything was so incredibly great. It all sounded so beautiful. I am so, so incredibly proud of you.”
A warm, fuzzy feeling spreads all over your body, starting from your tummy and flowing outward, making your skin burn hot. Your lips part slightly, your heart skipping a beat when you notice Matt’s tongue poke out and wet his lips. 
“(Y/N), I—,” he starts, but you glide your hands up to cradle his face, pulling him in for a kiss. He gladly receives it, moaning into your lips and holding you close, squeezing your waist and dipping you slightly. Pulling back after you straighten, he rests his forehead on yours and gently brushes your noses together before leaning in for more soft, sweet kisses. “I’ve got some tulips with your name on it out in the front row,” he grins. “Foggy and Karen insisted on roses, but, I know you like tulips. Mr. Wilson at the corner florist helped me put the colors together for you.”
“How’d you know I like tulips?” you hum, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“I might’ve talked to your students. They gave me some ideas.”
“Ah. Well, since I can’t kiss them as a thank you, I think I might have to give you a few more to show my full extent of gratitude.”
“Mm,” Matt happily hums, his hands moving down your body soothingly. “I’d like that. But not here. When we get back to our building. I have a feeling people are looking to congratulate you.”
“Okay,” you breathe, taking half a step back, slipping your hand in his so we can go into the audience. “I’m gonna hold you to it.”
“I hope you do.”
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Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione​ @catnip987​
Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters
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itwasthereaminuteago · 1 year ago
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umm uhhhhh giving matt a bj while he holds a rosary over his cock?
Hi Nonnie, I don't know if this is a request (closed at the moment, sorry, check my pinned post for status!) or just a thot (yes fuckin yes!) but may I recommend this fic:
The Undone and the Divine
by @mattmurdockspainkink
Because they did it better than I ever could!
(thanks Mindi for remembering!)
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 3 months ago
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the abandoned tie
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a/n: this man... this man, this man. i've missed him so much. he has been on my mind all summer and now i finally snapped and wrote some yummy yum about him.
summary: It was terrible, you knew full well that he was your boss, but what had started as an innocent little crush the moment that you were hired as a secretary at Nelson and Murdock only grew and flourished the longer that you worked there. It didn’t help matters either that Matthew was a natural flirt, or at least was with you, always making you stumble over your words and blush like a damn schoolgirl. But even though it was the right thing to do, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to go on and actually quit, because if you did, then he wouldn’t get the chance to make your heart flutter on a daily basis anymore, bittersweet as it may be.
warnings: matt murdock x secretary!reader, smut, coworkers to lovers, kissing, office sex, clothed sex, ripping pantyhose, manhandling, oral, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, protected sex, alcohol consumption, foggy slutshames matt (as he deserves. he a hoe and we love him for it)
word count: 4144
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist
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“Okay,” Foggy huffed out a long exhale, “I can’t look at this anymore, I’m going all cross-eyed,” he slammed shut the laptop on the conference table before him, “I gotta call it a night,” and as he raised from his seat, your head tilted up from the intimidating stack of paper your nose was buried in, “any of you up for a round at Josie’s?”
“Uhm, actually, I think I might stay here a little longer,” your thumb brushed against the corner of the pile before you, a mountain of perhaps the most boring paperwork you’d ever given your time of day, but the small chance that some tiny nugget hid in there, something that could help the firm on their current case, convinced you to volunteer to take on the job, “see if I can make a bit more of a dent in this.”
“Alright, fair,” your colleague eyed the papers, then shifted his glance to his partner, seated on the stool directly beside where you sat, “Matt? Come on, man. Don’t let your best friend drink alone.”
“I’m sorry,” he shifted slightly in his seat, then uttered in a tone that almost made it sound as if he was just making up his answer to match yours, “but I think I’m gonna keep going as well,” though the hope that he had changed his verdict to sync up with your own was a dream you’d never truly let yourself believe.
It was terrible, you knew full well that he was your boss, but what had started as an innocent little crush the moment that you were hired as a secretary at Nelson and Murdock only grew and flourished the longer that you worked there. It didn’t help matters either that Matthew was a natural flirt, or at least was with you, always making you stumble over your words and blush like a damn schoolgirl. But even though it was the right thing to do, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to go on and actually quit, because if you did, then he wouldn’t get the chance to make your heart flutter on a daily basis anymore, bittersweet as it may be.
“Workaholics the both of you!” Foggy groaned light-heartedly, conjuring an airy chuckle to bubble out of you, “well,” he puffed as he bent down to grab his bag and stuff his laptop inside, “then I guess I’ll just see you guys in the morning.”
“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Matt flashed his friend a smile as he crossed the threshold of the door to the conference room. 
Catching his eye through the windowed wall as he made his way out towards the exit, you waved, “night!” before he raised his hand to mirror your gesture. 
After silence had consumed the office once more and your eyes returned to their tedious scanning, a yawn soon forced its way out of your lungs. 
As your hand flew up to cup your mouth, Matt’s soaring fingers stilled over the braille on the pages before him and his head tilted up in your direction. 
“You sure you’re not done for the day?” he quietly asked. 
“No,” you uttered before the yawn was through, “I wanna stay.”
“Alright,” he breathed, “how about some coffee then?”
“Uh, yeah, sure, I can go make some–”
“No, no, stay, I didn’t mean for you to–… I’ll make it.” 
“Oh,” you blinked back at him, perhaps finding the role reversal a bit more staggering than you’d expected as you were usually the one making everyone else beverages, “y-yeah, that would be great,” before your gaze then shadowed him as he got up and crossed the small width of the humble office to the little kitchenette nook. 
You should have probably just returned to your reading as he stood there and waited for the water in the electric kettle to boil, but you just couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. 
When he returned with a steaming mug, he held it out for you to grasp, “here you go,” before he returned to his seat beside your own. 
“Thanks,” your fingers enveloped the warm ceramic before you took a small sip, one that was swiftly cut short as soon as the flavour enveloped your tongue, “wow…” 
“What? Is it bad?” 
“No, no, quite the opposite actually,” you glanced down at the coffee in amazement before your gaze flickered up to him, “it’s perfect,” you uttered, unsure if you were more shocked or just plain weak in the knees at the fact that Matt somehow knew how you took your coffee.
The evening however didn’t drag on for too much longer following the very last sip of your caffeinated beverage. You tried to return to your work, you truly did, but no matter how hard you tried to get back into the flow of things and make a proper dent in the colossal workload, you just couldn’t. 
You were too occupied staring at Matt. 
Gazing longingly at his burly forearms, exposed and framed by the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down, at his wide hands as they danced over the papers before him, nearly caressing them in the manner you always fantasised he would touch your goosebump-ridden flesh, and even at the slight furrow line that appeared betwixt his dark brows as his brain absorbed the texts he read, the little crease you so badly wished to soothe with a kiss. 
As your eyes continued to linger and your heart thumped in your chest at the way your mind ran wild, Matt’s right hand then extended in search of one of the items on the cluttered table, though before his fingers located the wanted folder, they first wandered so close to you that they grazed against your forearm resting there on the surface. 
Though the contact sent butterflies soaring throughout your stomach, the spark also managed to snap you out of your daze and jolt you back to your senses, though the realisation bolted through you so severely that in your haphazard and hazy attempt at both hiding any trace of what you’d let yourself do, as well as dive back into what you should have been doing all along, your clumsy ass twisted away in a manner that almost caused you to fall off your chair. 
Almost. 
You would have fallen face first on the cold office floor if a pair of swift hands hadn’t seized your waist. 
“Wow–, I’ve got you.” 
As your head tilted up, gratitude ready to drip off your tongue, it ceased and shrivelled as you realised just how close you now were to Matt. Your noses almost touched as his grasp didn’t move to unfasten their strong hold on you even though you were now completely out of danger. 
“You’ve got–…” you echoed hazily, “I-I–…”
As his breath fanned across your face, your eyes flickered down to his lips. You’d never been this close to him before, but now that you were, impulsivity swiftly seized your soul. 
Pressing your lips against his in a chased kiss, you soon sensed his grip shift as he kissed you back, his fingers gently digging into your sides to claw you even closer.
Though as you felt yourself melt away in the dream you’d always yearned for, a flash of sense sparked within you and caused you to plant your palms on his broad chest and push him back. 
“Oh my goodness…” your shoulders shot up towards your ears, “I am so, so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Please don’t fire–”
But no more fretful words managed to leave your lips as Matt then primally grabbed your face and shut you up with a kiss, a taste of hast tingled on his tongue as he let his own desire take over and rush for more instead of other civilised methods one could opt for in such a situation, he didn’t stop to put out the fire, only fanned the wicked flames and kissed you as if it was the last thing he’d ever do. 
It had caught you completely off guard and was only when he slowed his heated lips to smouldering pecks that you got the chance to catch up. 
“Oh my god…” you whispered slowly between kisses, utterly stunned and reeling in the reality. Your tone at first came out a bit timid as you still couldn’t believe what was transpiring, but as soon as his lips began to wander down the side of your neck and your eyes fluttered at the dizzying sensation, you felt yourself melt into the moment and echo, “oh my god…” though now in a completely different manner, one that dripped with the desire that you evidently hadn’t been the only one to keep bottled up for so long. 
As the lawyer soon rose from his seat, he dragged you up with him by the starved hold he had on your face, keeping you close and devouring your lips. 
Your fingers found his dark tie for support, the fabric of which had already previously been loosened slightly by his own fingers when they long ago drifted up to pop open the very top button of his collar. 
When his feet then shuffled and your backside bumped into the table’s edge, Matt’s palms coasted down your frame till they greedily swept over the pencil skirt you wore and cupped your ass, only letting himself cop a feel for a second before a small yelp bubbled out of you as he then lifted you up to sit on the conference table. 
As your fingers then untangled themselves from the silk hanging around his neck and swept up to the sides of his face, your eager touch bumped into his tinted glasses, which you swiftly removed and cascaded to the messy tabletop beside you where you sat. 
“Oh… Matt…” a small whimper rolled off your tongue as he then ducked down to plant sloppy pecks all along your neck, “please don’t stop…” 
His low voice then vibrated against your rapid pulse, “yeah?” 
“Uh-huh,” your head tilted slightly in a nod as your fingers stretched to weave in with his dark hair, “I–… I–…” you tried to fight through the foggy feeling he distilled in you, though ended up only offering him a short and desperate, “please.”
When you glanced down at him, fully expecting the lawyer’s lips to return to your own, you instead watched as they dipped down even lower, straying from your throat and wandering down to the sliver of skin on display in the neckline of your silky blouse. Your breathing was heavy as you watched your chest rise and fall beneath his hot pecks. Mouth agape, you stared intently as his kisses wandered even further south, his nose nuzzling against the soft material of your shirt as he dropped down to his knees. 
Planting your palms on the surface of the table for support as you watched Matt crack open your pantyhose-clad legs, his lips then dipped down to one of them as he plucked it up to rest it upon his broad shoulder, all the while a series of kisses smothered the sheer nylon clinging to your skin. 
Soon he had your skirt pushed up and bunched around your hips, fervently opening you up and peeling back your layers till he reached what he most desired. However when his touch finally did sweep up to graze against your covered centre, it didn’t continue on the journey up towards your waistband as you had assumed, but instead, his fingers pinched the sheer core of your stockings and tugged till a ripping sound rung out through the dark office. 
“Fuck…” he groaned as he finished tearing the hole, nearly making it huge enough for the nylon to just give up completely and split right down the middle, that’s how little he let remain intact before he moved on and reached for the underwear now accessible to him. 
His thumb stayed hooked in the soaked gusset of your underwear as he rushed to dive in for a taste of your divine. One of your hands shot down to gently grasp his hair as his tongue lavishly licked you up, making your whole body quiver from the way he made out with your cunt. 
Scooping a palm up to cup your tit through your clothing, Matt groaned, “shit…” his fervent rumble vibrating against your puffy pearl before he sucked down on it, “you taste so good…”
As you swiftly felt his kisses push you over the edge, your hips began to rock back against his efforts, grinding your pussy against the lower part of his face as he lapped you up, his fingers too raising to dent your thigh, both to keep your leg draped over his shoulder, but also to keep you steady through all of your squirming as you rode out your high. 
“Oh my–, fuck!” you gasped, catching your breath. Blinking down at him, you watched as he slowly rose back up, planting a few pecks in a sporadic pattern up your form till his lips again found your own. The taste of yourself was heavy on his tongue as you drifted a hand up to wipe your slickness from his stubbly chin. 
“Miss Y/l/n,” he smirked as you tilted away from his kisses to clean him better, addressing you with the same formality he only occasionally still withheld for you during your working hours together, “whatever would I do without you?”
Still in your haze, you thought too hard about the flirty comment and instead turned it into some kind of unnecessary riddle, “well, first of all, you properly wouldn’t have the evidence of what you just did all over your face, and second, then I also wouldn’t even clean it up because it wouldn’t be there, because I wouldn’t be here, and–,” but then, he simply cut off your words, frankly, as well as your brain, and pressed his lips to yours. 
“I fucking love how your mind works,” he grinned, a hand floating up to offer a feathery stroke through your hair. 
“Oh, I–,” a shiver ran down your spine as you blinked back at him, “thank you.” 
A gentle chuckle then rumbled in Matt’s chest as his fingers reached up to tug at his tie, “sweetheart, if you’re gonna thank me like that every time I pay you a compliment or talk dirty to you,” he yanked the loosened accessory over his head, “then I don’t know I’ll ever be able to stop,” and tossed the silky material to one of the dark corners of the dim room.
Tangling your arms around his neck, an amazed giggle bubbled out of you as you then settled on simply repeating, “thank you,” softly egging him on as your nose nudged against his own. 
Groaning lowly, “you little minx…” a smile tugged at his lips as he then leaned in to claim your lips once more.
As he kissed you once again, your legs snaked around his form, dragging up against his sides like a cicada in his arms.
And when he soon shifted a bit before you and extended an arm to something on the table, you breathlessly asked as your fingers floated down to undo his belt, “do you have a–,” but then you twisted your neck to see what he conjured from his bag, “oh,” you glanced down at the small foil packet in his hand, “you do,” you let out a relieved exhale, “good, because I didn’t, so here I was scrambling my mind for what other options we had.”
“Oh yeah?” he smirked, the sudden presence of his hands working at freeing himself caused your own to retreat, “and what did you come up with?”
“Oh, well…” you swallowed, conjuring enough courage to utter, “we could just touch each other…”
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you hazily nodded, “or I could repay you the favour.”
“Yeah?” his hard length sprang free, “you’d suck my cock?”
Scarcely breathing at all, you stared as he swiftly rolled on the condom, “more than you know…” 
“But none of that’s what you really want right now, is it?” 
As his hand snaked around your hip to scoop you that much closer to the edge, you foggily shook your head, “no…”
“Tell me what it is then,” he uttered as he rubbed the bulbous head of his dick through your folds, making you squirm from the dizzying sensation, “tell me what you want.”
Though the mission of getting words out and offering him an answer seemed more difficult than you anticipated as his tip nudged against your swollen clit and made it near impossible for you to think, “I–… you. I want you,” your arms draped around his neck he inched back in for a kiss, “I-I–, Matt, please just put it in–”
Answering your prayer, he then slid his cock inside, slowly filling your dripping pussy up till his pelves pressed against your puffy pearl and the tip of him kissed a spot so deep inside of you that you felt as if you could scarcely breathe at all. 
“There you go,” his groan rumbled in your ear, “that what you wanted, huh?” though when you tried to respond, only whimpers flowed from your lips, “then be a good girl and thank me again,” he dared to request as he gently began to move, “tell me thank you for giving you exactly what you want,” and you moaned, eyes rolling at the way he dragged his girth out of you, so overwhelmingly slow that your cunt clenched around him so tightly that he had to carve anew when he finally thrust forward and filled you up once more, “come on, you can do it. Your pussy’s already doing it in her own incredible way.”
As his lips lowered to flutter against the side of your neck, you faintly murmured, “t-thank you–” 
Though the cocky lawyer only bucked into you harder, making you tremble in his grasp as he smirked against your goosebump-ridden skin, “what was that?”
“Thank you, M-Matt!” you successfully squeaked.
“Atta girl,” his hand slid up the column of your neck as your head began to lull, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” 
“Uh-uh,” you hazily shook your head as you clung to his broad shoulders. 
Lightly enveloping his fingers around your neck, just to keep you close, his other digits then reached down between your bodies to find your clit in a harsh rub as he dared to say, “then say it again…”
The words of gratitude then became like a mantra on your lips, incoherently flowing through your moans as he rocked into you so hard that the conference table rattled beneath you, fucking you till you both tumbled over the edge, though the simple phrase still kept rolling off your tongue even when he offered to walked you home afterwards and too when he pressed a soft peck to your forehead, whispering you goodnight before you disappeared inside your building. 
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The cups of coffee you had nervously bought the very next morning were quite the task to balance in your hands. It would have been strange if you didn’t buy one for all of your coworkers, even though the brew truthfully had ulterior motives. 
It wasn’t just the regular kind and thoughtful round of coffee to start the day, but in truth was a thanks for the bang last night, oh, and by the way I am head over heels in love with you, I know I was too scared to tell you last night, but I’m terrified of fucking this up kind of coffee. 
It was a lot of pressure to put on a simple cup of coffee, you recognised that, but what else were you to do? 
Though when you managed to push open to door to the office without dropping or spilling any of the balanced paper mugs, Foggy was the first one to spot you.
“Oh, you bought coffee?” he grabbed one out of your arms, “thanks!” before he called over his shoulder, his voice flooding into the room to the left, “hey Matt! Y/n got a round of coffee!” 
It hadn’t been the suave delivery you’d hoped for, having Foggy force the mood in a purely platonic and professional direction as Matt appeared and casually seized the cup his friend caught from you and extended to him, instead of the fantasy that had tickled your mind all morning of effortlessly slipping into his office and sliding it across his desk with some clever line you hadn’t been able to come up with yet.  
Though Matthew still smiled and said as he raised the cup up to his lips, “thank you, Y/n,” and the mirroring echo of the words he’d made you repeat last night so many times that it lost all its meaning, caused your cheeks to heat up. 
“Uhh,” you blinked back at him, trying to shake the memory off of you, “y-you’re welcome…”
However, before you could part your lips, ask your boss for a private moment and finally make your move, Foggy opened his mouth once more and spoke. 
“Hey, remember how I put out feelers to Karen?” he began to saunter into the conference room.
As Matt began to follow his voice, you too shadowed them, all the while trying your best to keep the butterflies on your belly at bay as you returned to the scene of the crime, most of the papers on the table still in a mess from how little the pair of you had bothered to clean up afterwards. 
“Yeah,” Matt tilted his head, “she got anything?”
“Yup,” Foggy took a sip of coffee, “called me this morning and said she’d pop by later with the stuff she–, hey,” his sentence then took a sharp turn as his gaze found something on the floor that puzzled him enough for his brows to crinkle up. Bending down, he picked up a silky string of fabric and wrapped it around his fingers, “Matt, did you forget your tie here?”
“Uh, what?” the man beside you stiffened up slightly. 
“Your tie, this looks like the one you wore yesterday.”
“Oh, uhm, yeah,” he coughed, fidgeting lightly with the to-go cup in his grasp, “it just bothered me last night, so took it off, must have forgotten to put it in my bag.”
As Foggy’s eyes scanned Matt’s reaction and too let his gaze wash over your flustered form and spot how the truth virtually poured out of your pores from the way your eyes grew, he simply hummed, “…uh-huh…” not believing his pal for a second. 
Sucking in a breath, Matt tried to extend his hand and asked, “can I have it back?” though his forced casual tone was utterly unconvincing. 
“Oh my god…” Foggy sighed before tossing the tie in his friend’s face, “you have a problem, man.” 
To your surprise, the man beside you caught it, though you were still just one step too far behind him to catch the way a smug smirk tugged at his lips, “what?” as he couldn’t for the life of him hide the pride of the discovery is friend had surely made countless of times throughout their friendship. 
“I leave you two alone for one night, one night!”
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“…and to Matt for giving the closing argument of a lifetime and winning us this case!” Foggy raised his drink to the centre of where he, his colleagues and Karen sat around one of the small tables at Josie’s. 
“Oh, come on,” the dark-haired man beside you humbly tilted his head, “you were on fire as well–”
“Matt,” his friend cut him off by briefly planting his palm on his shoulder, “just shut up and take the compliment,” before he tilted his beer bottle back up and roared, “cheers!” 
“Cheers!” Karen, to the left of you, sang before the rest of you echoed, clinking all of your glasses together. 
“Thank you,” Matt gave in and smiled as everyone took a sip, “I couldn’t have done it without you all,” before he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “especially you…”
The sound of his low voice directly in your ear was enough to turn your knees into jelly, but as your eyes fluttered up to gaze at him, the personal space he had now eliminated betwixt you two caused you to positively melt. 
As you breathed out an audible smile, his lips stayed close as his breath once again tickled the shell of your ear, “so now that the trial’s done, I was wondering,” he uttered slowly, making you cling onto each and every syllable that flowed from his lips, “would you let me take you out on a real date?”
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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valsverse · 1 month ago
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‼️ MY EXPERIENCE WITH @girlkisser13
🚨 HARASSMENT & PLAGIARISM 🚨
i want to address a serious issue that has recently come to light regarding a user in the fanfiction community (@girlkisser13) with a concerning history of plagiarism and ongoing harassment. this situation involves not just the act of stealing someone else's work but also a troubling pattern of aggressive behavior that has surfaced, indicating a lack of accountability and growth. it’s crucial for us writers and fans to stand together against such actions to maintain a supportive and respectful community for all creators. with that being said, read below. transparency is key, so i want to share the full context of this situation, including all relevant screenshots. underlined words/sentences include links to posts that are relevant to the incident, so i encourage you to check them out. (if you've recently received a message from an anonymous user about this situation, click here)
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SECTION 1 : The Original Plagiarism Incident + Backstory
on june 3, 2023, i was notified by an anonymous user in my inbox that an account called girlkisser14 (now known as girlkisser13 after deactivating her old account) was plagiarizing my work. she repeatedly lifted sections of my writings and headcanons, merging them into her own posts. (note that i pretty much exclusively write for the percy jackson fandom.) after reaching out to her privately i discovered that i could no longer view her posts. at first, i thought she had taken her account down, but it turned out she had just blocked me. by june 5, 2023, i decided to create a post detailing the situation, which you can read here. shortly after, she contacted me, and we managed to come to a resolution. it seemed like a good opportunity for her to acknowledge her mistakes and learn from them. i updated my original post to reflect that the issue had been resolved. later on, she messaged me saying she couldn’t cope with the backlash. while i’m unsure if she was genuinely receiving hate, i felt sympathy for her situation. she asked me to take down the post, but i declined as accountability is important to me and i didn't feel comfortable with just erasing history. soon after, she deactivated her account.
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although she deactivated her original account, she shortly after created a new one. i was notified by a different anon about this because her posts were moved to the new account, and some still included my work—presumably by accident. from that point on, she became known as girlkisser13, which can be confusing given her original username was girlkisser14. initially, she missed a few paragraphs of my work, as mentioned earlier, which prompted me to make a post about it (as seen in screenshot 2). however, she reached out to me, and we clarified everything through direct messages. after that, all seemed well!
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however, things would get much worse from here. (this main character ahh dialogue bro.. 💀)
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SECTION 2 : Account Tries a New Persona, Still Fails at Not Harassing Me.
(september 21st, 2024) an anonymous account messaged me with the following:
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to be honest, i was completely baffled. i had completely forgotten about this issue, and out of nowhere, someone decides to bring it back up. it struck me as strange because… who gets so personal over something like this?
the user, which goes by the handle 'multifandombisexual13' also sent the exact same message directly to me, which made it clear that the anonymous message came from them, as shown.
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first of all, the usernames are incredibly similar. both have the number 13, and girlkisser13 is a multifandom account. if you look at their profile, you'll notice they only repost stories from girlkisser13. even on the "check out these accounts" sidebar, there's only one account listed: girlkisser13. this is because they only repost content from that account.
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let’s be real—this isn’t the behavior of a genuine fan. who goes through that much trouble? it’s obvious that this is girlkisser13 under an alternate handle.
i raised these concerns with the user, and i made sure to respond in a civil manner.
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they didn’t respond to my initial message and only replied after I reached out to girlkisser13. i sent her a message about this situation. (just to be clear, this user and girlkisser13 are the same person.)
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the user then responded at 4:38 PM. note that her main account, girlkisser13, replied to my message at 4:42 PM. (less than 5 minutes apart.) classic. (dates and times are included right under the text.)
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if it wasn’t obvious by now, this person has been harassing me from their alt while pretending to be an innocent bystander on their main account. it’s like they’re playing both sides—using one account to send nasty messages and the other to act like they have no clue what’s going on. it’s honestly ridiculous and kind of sad at this point. (you will most likely have to zoom in to read the screenshots.)
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you get the idea: this account goes off on personal jabs, claiming i have some need for control and a massive ego just because i refused to take the post down. i defended myself (obviously), but then she decided to accuse me of being jealous. (???)
i’ve made it clear SO many times—the post stays up for accountability. but no, she’s built up this entire fictional scenario where i’m obsessed with who’s getting more notes or attention. i promise you, i literally could not care less.
every single message is her droning on about “jealousy” or my supposed "ego and control issues," but never once acknowledging the actual point. it’s about holding people accountable for their actions. this isn’t a competition or a takedown—it's about transparency and honesty in the community. and to try and reduce it to some petty jealousy battle? that’s honestly ridiculous and completely out of touch.
like, she’s sitting there imagining i’m losing sleep over someone’s follower count on tumblr of all places. does she even realize how absurd that sounds? i'm a high school student who posts fanfic maybe once a month in a small fandom. tumblr is not my life, and there's definitely nothing here for me to be jealous of.
i don’t care how well someone is doing, i care about transparency and keeping things honest in the community. now, let’s address the obvious here. it’s super weird for another account to be going so hard defending a situation they supposedly have no part in. like, who does that? no one would go to these lengths unless they were personally connected, right? i brought up this whole issue in these screenshots below:
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funny how they only stopped harassing me once i mentioned, at the end of my paragraph, that i’d happily make this public. up until that point, it was nonstop. i kept pressing them on whether they were connected to girlkisser13 (and if you somehow forgot—yes, this account and girlkisser13 are the exact same person). it was obvious, but i just wanted them to admit it.
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it was around this time that i decided to message her main account, girlkisser13, to clear things up. i figured it was best to go straight to the source and get some clarification, but of course, things only got more suspicious from there.
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SECTION 3: Ongoing harassment just a heads-up to pay attention to the account names at the top so you know who I'm messaging.
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i like how i don't even have to comment on this part lmao. i sent the situation to girlkisser13 at 11:01 PM, and then at 11:39 PM, their other account decides to confront me about it.
anyways, i tried to get some honest answers from girlkisser13, but it was all just denial. at the very least, i asked her to reach out to the "other user" to stop the harassment.
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at this point, girlkisser13 decided to backtrack and throw in an apology. i mean, i still firmly believed they were the same person, but honestly? i was just so exhausted from the whole ordeal that i thought, “whatever, let’s just agree and move on.”
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SECTION 4: The Slip Up: GirlKisser13's Attempt at Damage Control
almost immediately after the conversation shown before, i received 13 messages TOTAL in my inbox, all in rapid succession, so obviously, they were all from the same person. i won't show them all because they're essentially the same. each one harassed me about my plagiarism post still being up, mentioning girlkisser13, and accusing me of jealousy in the same short, lowercase writing style. i brought this issue up to girlkisser13.
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the first slip-up happened when I received a message from her alternate account, multifandombisexual13. up until that point, all the messages had come through anonymously, but it seems she forgot to enable the anonymous option this time.
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shortly after, i got a message in the same style from her main account, girlkisser13. need i say more?
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so, naturally, i sent the screenshot over to her main account, just to see what she'd say. and what did i get in return? excuse after excuse. it was honestly kind of impressive how quickly she could come up with new stories to cover her tracks. each response was more outlandish than the last, trying to justify what was blatantly obvious.
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my brother sent that message!" yes—because your brother just happens to have access to your account. yes, because your brother happens to also be on tumblr, spending his time catching up on the latest percy jackson fanfiction drama... 💀 the sheer absurdity of it all. the pathological lying is honestly embarrassing at this point.
and, of course, the apologies only start rolling in after she's been caught—clearly just an attempt to redirect the drama and save face.
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embarrassing...
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SECTION 5: FINAL THOUGHTS—My Brain Hurts
in conclusion, this user does not deserve a platform on this app. she has failed to learn from her past mistakes and has clung to an incident that happened over FOUR MONTHS AGO. it’s time for accountability in our community.
harassment and deception have no place in spaces dedicated to creativity and expression. when individuals prioritize personal vendettas over respect and integrity, they tarnish the very essence of what fandom is meant to be.
it’s crucial that we foster an environment where originality is celebrated and where creators feel safe to share their work without fear of retaliation or harassment.
i highly encourage you to read everything i’ve shared and form your own opinion on the incident, but now you know my point of view.
ADDRESSING COMMON QUESTIONS
1. Isn’t this just a personal dispute?
while this situation is personal to me, it reflects broader issues within our fandoms. it’s not just about my experience; it’s about creating a community that values respect and integrity. we should all feel safe to share our work without fear of harassment or plagiarism. no one should feel comfortable stealing others' hard work or bullying creators into silence.
2. Why are some of the photos lower quality than others?
tumblr has a 30-photo limit, which meant i had to manually combine certain screenshots in a photo editor to get everything in. i also wanted to save space to make sure the most important screenshots could be posted in their highest quality. this is especially noticeable in the banter between me and her alternate account (see Section 2).
3. Why didn’t you just take down the post like she asked? Are you really jealous of her like she accused you of?
• absolutely not. i kept the post up for accountability. this was never about ego, jealousy, or a desire for control, as she accused me of—it’s about making sure people are aware of what happened and holding someone responsible for their actions. removing the post would allow her to escape the consequences of her behavior, which isn’t fair to me or anyone else she may target in the future. trying to turn this into a jealousy issue is a distraction tactic, and honestly, it’s irrelevant to the conversation. it’s not about followers or popularity—it’s about principles. 4. Why make this public? • because i gave her chances to handle this privately, and she chose to continue the harassment. this could have ended quietly, but she made the decision to escalate it. i’m not going to stay silent about someone who continues to lie, harass, and try to manipulate others.
5. Is it really that big of a deal?
yes. i know this whole situation is a bit silly, but plagiarism and harassment are serious issues, whether they happen online or in real life. it’s not just about fanfiction; it’s about respecting people’s work and holding individuals accountable when they cross boundaries.
to wrap this up, if you have any questions or concerns about the situation, feel free to reach out to me. i’ve tried to lay everything out as clearly as possible while trying to get this information out as quickly as possible, but i’m open to any clarifications or further discussion. i honestly don’t know how far this will reach or how many people will see it, but I think it’s important to at least try. for accountability’s sake, i’m tagging all the fandoms she’s active in, so all people can be aware of what’s been happening. hopefully, this will help set a standard in our community for respecting each other’s work and holding people accountable when they cross the line. i understand that some may want to defend her, but it’s crucial to consider the pattern of behavior exhibited. defending someone who has repeatedly shown disrespect for others’ work can enable harmful actions. i encourage people to look at the evidence and form their own opinions rather than simply siding with someone based on personal feelings.
thank you for your time!! ©valsverse— do not steal, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is prohibited.
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 9 months ago
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enter sandman - m. murdock
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a/n: see me personally? never seeing the pearly gates. never ever. not after this one . enjoy. feedback always appreciated ! <3 warnings: guys... where do i fucking start. SMUT. SMUT!!!! GRAPHIC PORN!!!! no plot!!!! degradation!!! dumbification!!!! praise!!!! oral!!! (m recieving) cursing!!!! nicknames!!!! reader is female and has female parts and she/her pronouns!!!!! matt is cocky, mean!dom!matt, the ending is kind of cute, lots of inappropriate use of matts senses, uhhh guys let me know if i missed any because... wow. word count: 4.2k summary: you have a hard time sleeping. the devil has a few games in mind to tire you out. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: enter sandman - metallica "exit light/enter night/take my hand/we're off to never-never land"
You have a horrible habit. Okay, you wouldn’t really consider it to be a habit per say, but you’re not proud of it. You will for it to end.
You can never seem to fall asleep. Staying asleep is easy, but getting there is a problem. Your mind is always racing, which causes you to spiral into a whirlpool of anxieties. You’re too busy thinking about your job, or what you’ll eat tomorrow, or when you’ll be doing your next load of laundry.
But most of all, what keeps you up at night is worrying about the devil. And not in the sense that you’re a holy catholic who wants to repent for her sins, either. Your worry for the devil comes because you’re hopelessly in love with him.
And you worry that one day he will come home damaged beyond repair. Maybe one day he will not come home at all, and you’ll have to hear about it on the news the next morning. It’s a hellish existence, loving the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, but you make do.
Like tonight—You had baked brownies earlier in the night, and then read your book for the better part of the night. You won’t allow yourself to fall asleep because the possibility of seeing him overwhelms you. But as the hours pass, you begin to lose hope.
And just as you you’re beginning to accept that he won’t be coming to see you and you’re really letting yourself drift, you feel a warm hand on your neck. He’s taken his gloves off tonight. You consider yourself blessed.
“Hi,” You mumble softly, your brain going all fuzzy with even just that bit of contact. You’ve missed him. “Was beginning to think you’d never show.”
But your devil is in no mood for simple pleasantries tonight.
“What have I told you about waiting up for me?”
“Not to?”
“I said,” His hand moves from its gentle place against your neck to grip your chin, “As long as you leave the window open I’ll know to just come in and take what I need.”
Your face flushes, and he grins, because he can tell that he’s making you flustered.
“Stop laughing at me.”
“No one’s laughing at you, sweetheart.” He hums.
“You are.” He shrugs gently. He’s wearing his black suit tonight, and it’s making you feel… a lot of things.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Damn him.
“Nothing!”
He leans forward and kisses you softly, and you lean up to try and kiss him further, but he pulls away, his grip returning to your chin, to keep you just centimeters away. The devil is an expert at reading you, despite his lack of sight. He has developed the habit of studying you, and knows that as of late, you’re not allowing yourself the pleasure of sleeping. He knows it’s because you’re so anxious and worried about every little thing, so tonight.. He intends to fix it. Or at least, maybe come up with a temporary solution.
“Liar.” He whispers and moves away further. “I’m not going to touch you until you tell me.”
Your devil is many things, but he does not bluff. He has this will of steel.
“I prefer it when you wear the black suit,” You tell him, “It’s not very protective, I know. But you look good in it.”
He makes a noise of realization, before moving his hand to slip under the hem of your shirt, resting his hand on your stomach. You shiver a bit, his hand warm against your skin. That’s what you get for wearing a tee shirt and shorts to bed every night, he’d tell you.
“That’s my smart girl.” Your heart flutters. “Mm, you really like that huh?”
“You’re awful.” You always pretend to hate how he reads you, but secretly, although you suspect he knows it, you love that someone knows you so well. He grins and his hands move again, this time picking you up into his arms and carrying you to the bedroom. “Hey! Not cool, we talked about picking up when we have no warning—” You cut yourself off with a grunt when he tosses you onto the bed.
“Shut up.”
He hears no objections.
Just as quickly as you’re thrown on the bed, he is above you, mask still on, kissing your neck.
“Wanna play a game, sweetheart?” He asks, hands on your hips, his fingers creeping up the hem of your shirt. You shiver again, and he just grins “You can answer.”
“Sure. I like games.” Your voice is meek, too busy enjoying all the contact with him. He hums softly.
“I know you do, and you’re just so good at them.” You grin against his skin as he kisses your cheek. “See that? That’s what I want to know.” You’re a bit lost.
“Know what?”
“I want to know what turns you on more— praising you or degrading you.”
What a fun game to play with a human lie detector.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, let’s play.” You confirm. He kisses you quickly.
“Good girl.” You hum softly, but it isn’t quite what he’s looking for. It’s good, don’t get him wrong, but he’s after more. “Tell me about your day, baby.” He continues to plant kisses along your skin. You know this isn’t a request but rather a requirement of the game.
“Well, I had work today, then I had to stop at the grocery store. I made dinner and—” You’re cut off by a kiss to a sensitive spot on your neck, because you can’t help but let out a gasp of pleasure.
“What? A few kisses and you’re already turning dumb for me?” You shudder softly, your heartbeat steadily increasing. The deep cadence of his voice paired with his words make you want to just melt. “Oh, there she is..”
He lets go of your arms for just a moment to slip your shirt off.  Then, your hands are back above your head, held down by his grip. He moves on from your neck and begins to kiss down.
“I like this game.” You manage out, and he chuckles.
“I know you do. You know how?”
You think about it for a moment before you answer. You want to be right.
“You can hear my heartbeat?”
“And I can smell you. You like this a lot. More than you like me?” He continues to kiss down your torso.
You don’t answer for a second. He bites your skin gently, prompting you to answer.
“No.” You answer, “No, I don’t like anything.. anyone more than you.”
He kisses the spot where he bit softly.
“Even smart girls need to be reminded sometimes.” Is all he says before he continues to kiss you. You try to hide it, try to hide your reaction to the words, but he grins against your skin.
“Matt..” you groan out softly because his kisses have stopped.
“What?”
“Why’d you stop?” You whined.
“You’re my smart girl, why don’t you tell me?” You pause, biting your lip. “Is it because you can’t? Do you like being dumb for me, smart girl?” You want to defend yourself, but he bites your skin again.
“Yes!” you respond, and he does the same thing he did before—He kisses where he bit.
“Good girl.” He responds. “I like making you dumb just from a few kisses anyways.” He tells you, finally reaching your stomach with his kisses. “I love my dumb little smart girl.” The cadence he has to his voice makes you whine again. He knows every part of you, even the parts you never wanted to tell him about. He’s just too observant. “I love that despite how well behaved and good you are, you’re dumb enough to be talked down to like this, by some strange man who just crawled through your window.”
You answer before you can think about it. You’re smart enough to know that he’s at least half right.
“You’re not just anyone, you’re my Matt.”
“Your Matt?” He hums. “Your Matt, My ditzy smart girl.” He grins, before placing one last kiss right above the waistline of your shorts.
He moves so he can kiss your lips again, kissing you quick before pulling off his mask so you can see his face. He has a cut on his forehead and a bruise forming on his cheek. It’s clear he had a good night though, or else this wouldn’t be happening.
“Your face..” You frown, concern in your voice.
“Observant and smart?” He teases, kissing your forehead. “What happened to wanting to be dumb for me?”
You’re almost embarrassed of it now.
“You’re being mean.” You say quietly.
“Mean? Me? To my best girl?” He kisses you quickly again. “Never.” He hums. One of his hands goes down to your thigh, his fingertips inching up.
“Never.” You echo.
“What do you say, smart girl?” He asks, “Wanna play a few more games? See just how desperate I can make you?”
You huff at his words, your brain short circuiting to the point where you speak before you can really think.
“I just want you to fuck me!”
He stops just as he’s about to pull off your shorts and slithers back up so the pair of you are face to face.
“First of all,” he places a kiss to your lips gently, “You are not in a position to be making demands, pretty girl. Second,” He kisses you again, “Such a foul mouth for such a dumb baby,” You let off a soft whine, and he has the audacity to mock your whine, “I know, it’s not much of a lecture when you like when I talk to you like this,” He hums. “And third, I know you’re smarter than to be a brat.” He says gently, kissing you again.
“I’m not a brat.” You whine, and again, he mocks you before devolving into a deep chuckle, leaning in to kiss you.
“I love you.” He says, with a grin on his face.
He’s gentle with you for a few moments, softer. You decide that now is your chance, and if you don’t act now, you’ll spend the rest of your night under his thumb. So, you flip over and have him under you, as you sit on his lower stomach. His hands come up to the back of your thighs.
“I’ve got you now, Devil.” You grin, leaning in to kiss him. But before you can, he’s flipping you back over, keeping you pinned by your legs.
“Brat.” he accuses, leaning in to kiss you again. You huff. “Easy, pretty girl, your attitude is getting the best of you.”
You frown and turn your head when he goes to kiss you.
“Tell me I’m not a brat and I’ll kiss you.” You demand, and he grins, but this time it isn’t soft. It’s almost wicked. He grabs your chin roughly and tilts your head towards him, before kissing you roughly.
“What did I tell you?” he asks. “Come on, smart girl, I know you remember.”
“That I was in no position to make demands?”
“That’s right.” He coos, “Now, baby, do you want to hear what I had planned for you tonight?”
You must admit, you’re very curious.
“Sure, Matty.” His grin widens.
“Well, I was planning on playing this little game with you, then eating you out until your thighs are shaking,” You let out a whine, but he just shushes you softly, “Sh, sh, sh… You wanted to hear, so listen.” He hums. “Then, I was going to fuck you until you were full of my cum.” He tells you.
Then, he lets out a disappointed sigh.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“That was what I was planning on, but because you decided to be a brat, I have a new plan.”
“I liked that plan so much though..”
“I know, Sweetheart, me too.. But you’re the one who ruined it.” He reminded, leaning in, and biting your jaw between his fingers. His hand positioning is not exactly choking, but the grip is tight enough to leave marks. He feels you grind your hips up a bit, and chuckles again. “Smart girl, already figuring out what’s next.”
You tilt your head in confusion, but before you know it, he’s repositioning you so you’re in his lap at the edge of the bed. He pats your thigh gently.
“Get up for me, Honey. Then you got to take your shorts off for me.” You do as you’re told, no longer interested in fucking up his plans. Then, he pulls you back onto his lap, and he hums gently. You decide to take a risk and bring your hands up to his jaw, and then up towards his mask.
“Please?” You ask gently. “Wanna see you..” He nods softly, letting you pull off his mask, as his head tilts to the side to kiss your palm.
“You remember who’s in charge, right, sweetheart?”
“You, devil.”
“That’s right, angel.” He praises, “And that’s why you’re going to ride my thigh.” You let out a soft whine, and he shakes his head, “No, no whining from you, sweet girl. You wanted to be a brat, so you gotta reap what you sew.”
He holds your hips as you begin to grind against his thigh, and Matt focuses on the way your breathing hitches as you rub against his thigh. Your hands grip his shoulders as he begins to kiss your neck again.
Your skin burns with need, and your hips roll faster as your breath speeds up, and slowly, minute by minute, you’re edging closer to your release. But he knows you’re close to coming undone not only because of how your skin is hot, and your breath is airy, but because you’re making such a mess.
You’re definitely staining his pant leg with your wetness, because after his insatiable teasing, you’re just desperate for him, and oh so sensitive. The speed of your grinding increases, and then, because he wants to see you break, he starts to bounce his leg up so that in addition to your grinding, it’s overwhelming you.
“Matt,” you say, breathlessly. “Matt, please..”
“Please what, smart girl? What do you want?” He’s really going to make you ask for it. This is all part of his game.
“Please..” You start, resting your head on his shoulder. “Please, can I come?”
“What was that, baby? I didn’t hear you.”
Oh, now he’s being a fucking dick. You know he can hear you, with his damned super senses. Nonetheless, you pick your head up and manage to get it out.
“Please let me come,” You beg, and he laughs.
“You know what’s funny, baby?” You let out a whine. “You’re so smart, always holding the world on your shoulders, and yet.. A little bit of teasing and riding my thigh, and you can barely get a sentence out.. You’re being so good for me, baby. So good at following orders,” He bites your neck. “So, go ahead and come for me, sweet girl.”
As soon as those words leave his lips, you’re letting go, the tight knot in your stomach finally snapping. You moan into his ear, his hands on your side to keep you stable as you come undone. He keeps bouncing his leg to have you ride out your high as your legs begin to shake. You’re making all of these pretty noises for him, and the smell of your juices are overwhelming for him.
“Such a good girl for me,” he hums, kissing you softly. He’s back to being rather gentle with you. But his cock is incredibly hard against his pants, and he needs to feel you clench around him. “Can my pretty baby ride my cock?” You’re shaking but you nod gently.
He knows you’re verging on the edge of being unable to do much else, but he wants to see how far he can push you. So, he pats your leg again and you stand up. His hands come up to undo your bra and pull off your panties.
He holds them in his hands for a moment, breathing in deeply as your scent continues to overwhelm him. He wastes no more time, pulling off his shirt and then starting to unbuckle his black pants. On instinct, you’re on your knees, with this.. primal desire to suck him off.
He takes a deep breath, his hand going to your hair and pushing your hair from your face. You lean into his touch, smiling softly up at him. He knows how much you like just thoughtless sex—You value long, intimate nights too, but after a long week, you need to shut off your brain and he needs to take control.
“Wanna suck my cock first, baby? You’re so good for me..” He says softly, slipping down his boxers.
“Just wanna be good for you,” You hum, eying his glistening hardness. You can’t deny that he looks truly crafted by the hands of God—Most of his body is glistening with sweat, cock glistening with precum. He is heavenly and the only thing you’ll ever want to worship.
“You’re so good for me. My dumb little smart girl.” The name form earlier makes you weak, as you lean in and begin to lick his tip. His hand grips your hair as he inhales sharply. “Careful, sweetheart.” He tells you, beginning to guide you in sucking him dry.
His hand guides you as your head bobs against his cock, the taste of him turning your brain further into mush. He makes sure to guide you at a steady pace, moaning out praise, and occasionally degradation.
“So fucking good for me,” He gasps out, “My good little girl.. Sucking my cock so good—Ah, fuck..” He gasps as you quicken your pace. “Sucking me like the little slut you are..” You moan against cock at that, and he gasps, before it devolves into a low chuckle. “And you like it, too.. Being called my little slut.. Good little slut, just for me.. Got you trained so well..” He holds on for a few more moments before he comes into your mouth, panting softly.
His cum dribbles down your chin as you swallow most of it, so his hand comes up to your chin to gently wipe the dribble off before he slips his thumb into your mouth.
“Every last drop for me, angel.” He requests. You happily suck on his thumb for a few moments while he recovers. Then, he leans down and picks you up, resting you on the bed again. “Now you’re gonna ride me, right, pretty?”
“Mhm..” You smile, and as soon as he lays back on the bed, you’re on top of him. His cock slides against your folds and you whine a bit, just desperate for the feeling of him filling you up. “You know how badly I want your cock..” He grins at this.
“You have it, angel. Just gotta ride me, okay?” You hum in response. You slowly lower yourself down onto his cock, taking a few minutes to adjust to the size of him. But your slow pace is not quick enough for Matt, whose hands find your hips (for the millionth time tonight) and quickly slides his entire length into you.
You moan loudly, a feeling of pain and pleasure blurring together as he hits just the right spot to make you see stars.
“Matt, fuck,” You whine, wanting to take a second to catch your breath.
“Color?” It’s a safe word system—He knows he might have taken it a tad too far, pushing into you like that.
“Green,” You promise.
“Okay, good.” He leans up and kisses your forehead gently, a sign of the gentleness that resides in his demeanor despite just how into his dominate behavior you are. He begins to roll his hips, and revels in the sound of the pretty screams coming out of your mouth as he begins to pound into you. “I’ve got you fucked dumb, baby? Can’t even ride my cock properly?” He asks, pulling you in to kiss your skin.
“No,” You protest, “I can do it,” It comes out whinier than you wanted it to—Much whinier, but you can’t deny that he’s wrong about that first part. Your brain is blurry in the best way. He hums in approval before gently pushing you away from his lips.
“Prove it, then.” He demands, and his hips are no longer bucking into you. Instead, you shakily begin to bounce against his cock, using his moans and gasps as guidance. His hands grip your thighs as you ride him. “There you go, angel. It’s not too much for you, right?” He hums.
“No!” You protest again, “No, Sir, I can take it,” He grins at the slip of the title. He swats the side of your thigh, rubbing it softly after you yelp, but it quickens your pace. His brain is beginning to fog too, so he knows he wants to get a few more comments out.
“Fucking liar,” he laughs, “Even when your.. fuck..” He gasps, the feeling of you clenching around him overwhelming him. “When you’re bouncing on my cock and moaning for me, you’re still lying..” His one hand travels to play with your clit, rubbing small circles into it. “So,” He takes a deep breath, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder, before picking his head back up. “I’ll ask you again.. Is it too much for you, my ditzy girl?”
Tears prick your eyes, as you will your brain to come up with a comprehensive answer.
“Yes!” You admit, “it’s too much,” You pant, but because you don’t say ‘red’ he keeps going.
“Aw, I know, honey,” He plants a soft kiss to your lips, the hand that isn’t rubbing circles into your clit coming up to brush sweaty hair from your face. “But you can take it. Come on, sweet thing, I know..” He hums. “Come for me, baby..”
And you do—You come hard, your vision going white for a fraction of a second as you let out these angelic noises. He doesn’t give a damn about noise complaints right now, all he can focus on is the smell of your sweat, your cum, and your pretty little noises.
You continue to rock your hips, wanting to feel his cum fill you up. And after a few more minutes, your wish comes true, as he grips your hip tightly with one hand as he comes deep inside you, as you roll your hips just a few more times, riding the last waves of a euphoric high.
His chest is heaving as you slump down against his chest. The pair of you are sweating, but he still looks so beautiful like this. His cock still fills you, his cum deep within you. His hand gently runs up and down your back,
“How’s my sweet girl doing..?” He’s afraid he went too far with you, hoping his words didn’t push you into a bad headspace. It’s happened before, where you just needed time to come back to reality. But tonight, you’re exhausted in a whole new way. You’re happy that you’ll actually be able to sleep.
“I’m good,” You promise. You’re sweaty, out of breath and completely fucked out of your mind.
He takes your jaw in his hand and tilts your head up so you’re looking in his general direction.
“You know I don’t really think you’re dumb, right?” He just needs to make sure.
“I know,” You giggle, “But it’s pretty hot in the moment. Besides, you took care of me.”
He grins and kisses your forehead.
“I’ll always take care of you.” He promises. You know he means it, too. Your Matty, always taking care of you. “You know you don’t need to worry about everything, right? You don’t have to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
“I know,” You start, “But you’re always so busy with the firm, and being Daredevil, and—” He hushes you softly.
“I am never too busy for you.” He says gently. “I know I can’t do your job for you, but I can be more careful and help with dinner, you know.” He just wants you to be less stressed all the time, the hypocrite.
“Okay.” You say gently. “Thank you, Matt.” He holds you close and places a soft kiss to your head.
“You’re still shaking,” He says gently, “But you need to shower.” He says softly, moving now so that he can carry you to your bathroom. You whine at the feeling of emptiness you’re left with when he slides out of you, and he just laughs. “I know, Baby, I know.”
Matt is just a general fan of taking care of you. Even when you’re fucked out of your mind like you are right now. You love that about him.
You love that the devil is so devoted to you. It stirs something deep inside you that you can’t quite voice. Matt knows it, too.
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sunflowersandsapphires · 5 months ago
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A Gentle Touch
Installment 1 of The Catlike Tendencies of Matthew Murdock
pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 
summary: Matt doesn't know how to ask for physical affection.
warnings: none that I can think of!
a/n: long story short this is inspired by my wife’s orange cat. He loves her but only tolerates me most of the time, unless I’m the only one home when he wants attention. However, he doesn’t really know how to cuddle with me since we don’t do it often so he just awkwardly lurks wherever I am until I invite him closer. It happened earlier and I thought it was hilariously Matt-coded so I wrote this. (It’s set in the Of Oak and Ivy verse because I love them, but you don’t need to read that story for this)
w/c: 2.3k
You were absolutely enthralled in the story Foggy was telling when the noise caught you off guard. A small puff of air, sounding almost like a voiceless sigh. Glancing toward Matt who was the closest to you, one look at his stony expression told you it had come from him. He was clearly irritated, despite his face being blank. You’d known him for long enough that you could tell when something was on his mind. 
Maybe he’d heard this story too many times? You leaned more heavily into his arm, which was parallel to yours. 
Turning your attention back to Foggy, you flinched with a laugh as he gestured wildly when concluding his story, spraying beer at you from his mostly full bottle. 
“Geez, Fog. Reaching your limit already?” Matt smirked, his icy exterior fading away as you giggled beside him. 
“He is, he’s all flushed. This is just like that party at the Beta house sophomore year.” You shook your head, looking at Karen with an exasperated expression. “Have they told you the possum story?” 
Smiling gleefully, Karen shook her head. “The possum story?” 
Both Matt and Foggy groaned, protesting and blushing furiously, but Karen was adamant. And who were you to not indulge her?
“In the fall of our second year at Columbia, Matt and Foggy got absolutely plastered on some disgusting concoction of cheap alcohol and Hawaiian Punch,” You began, rolling your eyes as Foggy gagged across from you. 
“God, even the thought of it—“ The blond mime-retched. 
“Yah the smell of Hawaiian Punch still makes me nauseous.” Matt shuddered next to you. 
Karen stifled a giggle as you continued to illustrate just how inebriated you’d found them when you’d come to pick them up. “I was studying and had sat the party out, but offered to drive them home when Fog called me screaming at someone to chug alcohol. I figured they’d both be in no shape to get home.”
“You were correct.” Foggy nodded. 
“I don’t remember anything from that night, but I assume I was the one chugging.” Matt grimaced, laughing sheepishly. 
“So I drove over to the house, somehow got ahold of Matt and managed to convince him to herd Foggy and himself into my car. When they get there, they’re holding this bundle, right? I figured it was dirty clothes or something. But as we were driving home the clothes start hissing.”
“Oh, NO!” Karen cackled, propping herself up on her elbows as she listened to the story. 
“Oh yes. Naturally, I ask Fog what he’s holding and he says ‘my dog’.” 
“We didn’t have a dog,” Matt clarified, looking incredibly guilty. 
“No you did not.” You squeezed his arm, hoping he could hear in your voice that you had no resentment over the incident. “Foggy unwraps the thing a bit and introduces it as ‘Spot’. But instead of a dog,”
“It’s a possum.” Karen finishes for you, nearly in stitches over her coworkers’ mortified faces. 
“An angry one at that. I have no idea where it came from or how they managed to catch it, but there it was.” You shook your head, still amazed at their ability to wrangle the creature while piss-drunk. 
“What happened to it?” Karen asked, and the men erupted. 
“That’s classified.” Foggy stated firmly, lips pressed together. 
“A story for another time,” Matt rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. 
“Don’t tell me you killed it!” Karen gasped, whirling to look at the out of them sternly. 
“Of course not! No possums were harmed in the making of this story, just mildly inconvenienced.” You assured her. “They’re just clamming up because they can’t remember whose fault it was that it got loose in the science hall.”
Trailing off into a fit of laughter, Karen was quick to follow you as the two men started arguing, pointing fingers. Sitting back and enjoying the show, you shot Karen knowing glances as Matt and Foggy fought, no real heat behind their words. 
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You’d had so much fun that night, reliving one of the funniest moments of your college years, that you’d completely forgotten about the aggravated sound. Until about one month after, when you were sitting next to Matt on a bench in the courthouse. 
The case he and Foggy had been working on was tedious and full of metaphorical landmines that threatened to ruin any shot your client had at escaping her abusive husband. The entire firm had been on edge, struggling to keep everything in order. Given your lack of steady employment at the moment, you’d been helping out wherever you could, and had been working this case from day one, right alongside Matt. Which is how you’d ended up beside him rather than Foggy. 
The blond had flown out of town a few days before to attend an extended family reunion, leaving the rest of you to man the fort, so to speak. Usually, that wouldn’t be an issue, but Matt had been increasingly temperamental leading up to the ex parte hearing. His normal reserved demeanor had rapidly been replaced by a moody, antagonistic version of him–driving poor Karen to her wit’s end. 
After Matt had incited a screaming match over a spilled cup of coffee, you’d told her to take her lunch early, giving her a couple hours where she didn’t need to walk on eggshells. The plan seemed to be working so far, Matt responding with less hostility to your persistent support rather than Karen’s eager suggestions for an aggressive approach. Something about this case had rubbed Matt the wrong way. His invisible hackles were standing on end, posture almost bristling as he sat beside you, twisting a white-knuckled fist around his cane. And, though you understood why Karen was pushing for another solution, you agreed with Matt that this needed to be handled quickly and quietly. 
Scowling at the floor, Matt’s joints rolled beneath the delicate skin of his hands. His jaw was clenched, shoulders curled inward, as if he expected the judge to request a fist fight to grant the protection order. Christ, that could not be comfortable.
Carefully, slow enough to not spook him when he was in this state, you slid the pads of your fingers over the back of his hand. Prying his firm grip off the handle of his cane, you cradled his massive, calloused hand in your lap. He visibly relaxed at the touch, twisting to face you as you traced gentle patterns over his skin, careful to avoid the line of freshly healed cuts on his knuckles. Your curiosity would have to wait for now. There was no way he was in the mood to explain those.
A breathy rumble sounded in his throat, akin to a sigh but less obvious. The same noise he’d made all those days ago at Josie’s–the quiet indication that something wasn’t right. 
Bottom lip jutting out in sympathy, you squeezed his fingers with your own. “It’ll be ok, Matty.” 
He swallowed roughly, hazel eyes darting around behind his red lenses. You could practically see the thoughts forming in his mind before he buried them, the stress forcing him back into bad habits. Sweeping your fingers over his wrist, you studied him, satisfaction thrumming in your chest when his breath hitched. “Hey, talk to me, trouble. What are you thinking?”
“It’s not going to go well.” His voice was pitched low, angry, but there was a brief undercurrent of fear within it. 
“We don’t know that.” You chastised lightly, knowing this pessimistic streak was a coping mechanism and not confirmation he’d become a nihilist. 
“I can feel it. Can’t you feel it? It’s like every officer is laughing at us. We’ve already lost.” Watching Matt, the perpetual optimist, crumble at the thought of things not going the way you’d planned nearly broke your heart. 
“Oh trouble, don’t say that.” Threading your fingers with his, you knocked your knees together. “It’ll be ok. Even if the judge doesn’t grant the order today, we won’t stop trying, right?”
“No but she needs legal protection now. Truthfully, she needs an armed guard.” Matt spoke bitterly.
“We can get her temporary protection.” You suggested.
“They’d never grant that for a simple DV case. Besides, those are his coworkers. Do you really trust them to keep her safe from him?” Matt scoffed, raising a brow at you. 
Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you jabbed your pinky into the flesh of his palm. “I wasn’t suggesting we go to the police, Matthew. You and I both know how little good that would do.”
Deflating as he realized you weren’t being as naive as he suspected, Matt frowned. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright. Not everyone knows the flaws in the system.” You reassured him. “But I do. To some extent, at least.”
He hummed in agreement, but said nothing. 
“What’s really bothering you?” At your insistent question, Matt’s face flashed with rage, his spine straightening as he tried to pull out of your grasp, but you held fast. “Don’t you dare, trouble. Please, talk to me. It’s eating you away, I can’t sit here and let that happen.” 
Sighing harshly, Matt ran a hand over his face. “I just..this case feels different. I don’t know why. But if we can’t help her…”
“All we can do is try our best.” You reminded him. 
He let out a single humorless laugh. “I suppose that’s true.” 
When you let his hand drop, he made that pitiful, choked noise again. 
“What?” You asked, slightly worried. 
“Nothing. Just tired.” He lied, wrapping his hand back around the handle of his cane.
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It was only once you were truly together that you realized what that specific sound was meant to signify. 
Since you’d officially started dating, or rather labeling whatever you two had as a relationship instead of dancing around each other, that stupid noise had cemented itself in your life. It seemed like Matt was making it every damn day and it was driving you up a wall. 
Not because Matt wasn’t entitled to his feelings or to expressing said feelings. But because your brain registered that the sound had a specific meaning, and you could not for the life of you translate it from a mere Matt-ism into a language you actually understood. Every little quirk and charm about Matt inherently made sense to you, they always had. Yet this little growling exhale seemed out of your reach. Not to mention, anytime you tried to ask him what was up, he shut down faster than a computer chip dunked in pool water.
Sitting on his couch as he typed on his laptop, he snarled out that sound, eyes darting towards you and away before you could blink. Brows furrowing, you peered at him over the top edge of your book. A muscle in his cheek twitched, a blaring omen that he was holding himself back from saying something. 
“You ok?” You asked, nose scrunching as Matt brushed off your concern. 
“Yep. Hungry.” He grumbled. 
One word answers. Great start. Really breaking down his walls there, champ. 
“Oh, gotcha. I’ll order something. Have a taste for anything in particular?” Setting your book across your thighs, you opened up a delivery app on your phone. 
“No.” 
“Okay...” You drawled, stifling an eye roll at his grouchiness. “How about that Lebanese place we liked?” 
Receiving nothing but a thumbs up in response, you submit an order before Matt reached another stage of hangriness. 
Once Matt had eaten half of his shawarma, he was more agreeable. Smiling and chuckling sweetly as you read him cheesy snippets of your romance novel. Crawling across the couch until you were seated beside him, you stretched over his lap to snatch a piece of pita bread for your plate of hummus. Matt blew out a breath, tickling your ear as he grunted. Now that you were close, you could hear the shrill, whimpering undertone. Hidden, nearly silent, as if the growl was to compensate for the whine, to conceal it. 
Craning your neck towards him, you planted your free hand on your hip. 
“Alright. Out with it.” 
“Out with what?” Matt gave his best ‘befuddled’ impression, but you saw past his feigned innocence. 
Snorting, you prodded his firm chest. As your finger connected with his solid pec, he whimpered again, this time almost moaning. Something clicked. 
“Matthew Michael Murdock,” You gasped. “You are not making that sound instead of asking to cuddle.” 
Blushing furiously, Matt dipped his head, ashamed–though he made no attempt to deny the allegation.
Laughing incredulously, you tossed your plate aside and settled into Matt’s lap, threading a hand into his hair. “You are a ridiculous man.”
Matt rumbled happily, leaning into the touch until his head landed against your chest. Clutching his face between your palms, you trailed soft touches over his cheeks, around his ears–scratching tenderly down his neck when he practically melted beneath your fingertips.
“You could’ve told me that’s what you wanted, all this time…” Shaking your head, you planted a kiss atop his thick hair. “Why suffer in silence?”
“Didn’t want to force you. It’s been different. Since..everything.” 
Snuggling in close, you maneuvered his chin with two fingers, kissing him deeply. His stubble brushed over your skin roughly, making you smile. “You can always always ask, trouble. No need to be a martyr with me.”
“Sorry,” Matt murmured against your lips, chasing your mouth with a mournful noise as you pulled away. 
“Don’t be sorry. Now come here.” Tugging him on top of you, you laughed brightly as he squirmed over you, finally relaxed when his face was tucked against your neck. “That’s it. Better?” 
“Much better.” He whispered, going limp under your touch as your fingers stroked up his back.
Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase @blue-devil-of-the-lord @pigeonmama @shouldbestudying41
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souliebird · 4 months ago
Text
[[and then I met you || Ch. 25]]
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: 4.4k
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It is a beautiful Sunday morning at the Bronx Zoo - the sun is shining, the weather is warm, and there is hardly a crowd to speak of. Tourist season is over, and the school year has just started, so all the locals who would be here with their kids are otherwise preoccupied. Navigating through the pathways has been a breeze and there has been no one to block your view of the animals.
Another perk from the lack of patrons is the opportunity for a unique interaction at one of the exhibits Minnie was the most excited to visit.
“You has…you have very pretty fur,” Mouse whispers to the massive lowland gorilla that is mere inches from her face. There is a thick glass barrier between them, but you can’t help but feel a little bit nervous, especially with how the great ape has her full attention on your daughter. Large soulful eyes are focused on your little one as she gives compliment after toddler compliment. 
“It's a lot of colors and it looks really really soft,” Minnie continues on, nose practically smooshed flat against the glass. “I bets you gotta brush it lots. Mommy brushes my hair, but I can do it myself. Like a Big Girl.”
The gorilla responds by chewing on some leaves that she has in her hands. It is what she has been doing since she came down from the trees to sit right in front of you five minutes ago. This, of course, doesn’t deter Minnie at all and she asks, “Does your Mommy brush your hair, too?” 
As she has her imaginary conversation, you steal a glance at Matt.
After you learned about his senses, you thought joining you at the zoo would be torture for him. Even though the exhibits are kept clean, you know they must smell awful and there are loud birds screeching everywhere. It is completely different from the city noises he must be used to, and you even packed ear plugs and ibuprofen for if it became too much, but to your surprise, he seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself. 
Minnie has taken on her role as his Guide, excitedly explaining what each animal is and what they look like, to the best of her abilities - making you oh so proud. You’ve noticed that as your daughter takes in the sights, Matt will tilt his head minutely - his tell that he is intently listening to something. Occasionally, he’s asked a question - usually pointing to an animal Minnie did not describe and asking what it is. You’ve found lots of hidden creatures that way.
You cannot imagine what inputs he must be receiving from the gorilla in front of him. You know humans and great apes are closely related, but how does that come across to Matt? The smell must be different, but is he able to distinguish between her heartbeat and the heartbeat of someone observing her? Do her lungs sound human? 
Can he tell if she’s sick or well taken care of? Is that something he can determine in an animal he has no history with? 
He must sense you looking at him because he tilts his head towards you and grins. Your heart squeezes in your chest and your stomach does a sort of funny flip. 
He is so handsome and charming, and you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. You weren’t prepared to get into a physical relationship with Matt, but you don’t want to roll back on it. 
You like how touchy he has been all morning. It hasn’t been anything obscene or inappropriate, but his hand has found its way around your waist more than once. On the subway, standing in line, or even just watching the animals, if you were next to him, he’d wrap you up and pull you a little closer. His hand would rub up and down your side and each time you’d feel like a little picture-perfect family on an outing.
You haven’t kissed in front of Minnie, but you have both been sneaking them in - when you woke up, when you were making breakfast, when Mouse was preoccupied getting ready. 
You feel giddy and like you belong in a teen romance movie. This is something you haven’t had in such a long time - or ever really - and you don’t want to ruin it by overthinking.
You made a deal with yourself that morning - you were going to enjoy your trip to the zoo with your family and you were not going to overanalyze sleeping with Matt. It will be a tomorrow problem.  
Right now, you are going to soak in all the goodness that is happening - including the pleasant ache in your core from getting thoroughly fucked.
You break yourself out of your own head and take a small step, so you are properly beside Matt. You reach up and wrap your arm around his bicep, leaning into him a little as you ask, “Who would win in a fight - you or the gorilla?” 
“Oh, the gorilla,” he whispers back. “She’s all muscle and teeth. One good whack would easily break bone and even I’ve heard the stories about angry primates. I’m not that reckless.”
You have to bite your lip to keep from smiling too much, then you lightly squeeze his arm and tease, “Exactly how reckless are you?”
You don’t realize the innuendo until the words leave your lips and then you can’t take it back. Matt’s grin only grows, and he ducks just slightly so he can nuzzle into your ear to purr, “would you like to find out?”
Your face heats up and you have to hide your face in his shoulder, so you don’t die from absolute embarrassment. He gently pulls his arm from your grasp so he can instead wrap it around you and hold you firm against him. He rocks you slightly and you conclude that yes, Matt is very much enjoying his time out at the zoo. 
In front of you, the gorilla stuffs the last of her leaves in her mouth, chewing slowly as Minnie babbles away about hair care. 
“..and if you braids it, it makes it super-duper wavy after,” she wisely tells her new friend, “You could be really poofy. Like a flower.” She pauses, then you watch her as she watches the great ape stand back up and start to walk away. You expect her to be sad, but instead, your sweet girl just calls out, “Okay, bye-bye, I love you!” before whirling around to beam up at you. 
“Can we go see the mices now?” she asks, all sunshine and rainbows. 
To your great amusement, Minnie is dead set on following the plan she made. She only wants to visit certain animals and she must see them in a certain sequence. She brought the map of the zoo you bought her all those months ago - the one she’s drawn all over and has practically memorized - and they are your marching orders. You and Matt are more than happy to follow her lead - especially because she does not want to see any of the birds, which saves you a lot of walking. 
“Let’s go to the Mouse House,” Matt agrees. 
You have to pull away from him to be able to walk and your little Mouse goes right for your hand so she can hold it. She has been extra good all day about holding your hand and staying by your side - loudly saying she’s a Big Girl and can follow all the rules. You’ve been very impressed with her determination and definitely plan to reward her for her behavior. 
Matt falls into line beside you as you begin to lead the way, lightly grabbing at your elbow. You feel a tad bad for taking up so much space on the path, but luckily there is no one around. 
“What did you think of the gorillas?” you ask as you make your way to the next exhibit. 
“They’re amazing!” Mouse says with the biggest little grin, “She was really big and pretty and soft and went…she went,” she proceeds to make soft little grunts like you imagine a monkey would make, but you didn’t hear the gorilla make any noises beyond chewing.
“She really liked you, huh?” Matt teases with a little hum, his own smile as large as his daughter’s. 
“She did!” Minnie absolutely preens, “She’s my favorite!” 
Every animal has been her favorite, but you do think, for the moment, the gorilla does take the cake. 
“You’re favorite, huh?” You muse, “I don’t know, I think the tiger was really cool.” The cat had been much larger and vibrantly colored than you expected, and you had been a little bit starstruck by the apex predator. You might just see if there are any tiger shirts in the gift shop.
“He was sleepy!” Minnie proclaims, and it is true - the tiger was enjoying a midmorning snooze.
“What about you, Matt, who has been your favorite?” 
He makes a show of tilting his head back and forth as he thinks, “My favorite? I liked the elephants - I didn’t expect them to be that large and using their noses like that is…unique.” 
“It’s called their trunk!” Mouse eagerly tells her father, repeating what the zookeeper told you. “They can use it…to… to …to… grab things and drink water!” To emphasize her point, she raises her free arm up to her face and mimics an elephant’s trunk waving around. 
“That is impressive,” he says, “can you do that with your nose?” 
Minnie halts, then screws up her face to try to wiggle her nose. She purses her lips and pushes them around, but she does not succeed in independently moving her cute little nose. She does not give up right away, proceeding with multiple attempts before declaring rather cheerily, “Nope!”
You both laugh at your daughter’s antics as you start walking again. As you get closer to your destination, your little one gets more and more excited - she takes bigger steps, and you can tell she wants to run towards the building. 
At first, she thought one giant mouse lived in the Mouse House, but you explained it held lots of little houses for different types of rodents. Now, you think, she is determined to make sure all her tiny brethren are happy in their homes. She takes her role as Mouse Princess very seriously, after all. 
Like the Congo Forest, the Mouse House has a scarce population of humans. You let go of your daughter’s hand once in the darkness of the building so she can run up to view the first set of new friends. Once she is thoroughly distracted and talking to the little creatures, Matt moves. 
He lets go of your arm to slip behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. You rub at his forearm as you pull your phone out - you don’t want to miss any cute moments of Minnie with her subjects. As you bring up the camera app, Matt nuzzles at your neck, placing a sweet kiss there. 
“Good day, so far?” He asks against you, and you can’t help but smile and duck your head a little. You aren’t used to affection, let alone public affection, and his attention makes you a bit dizzy. 
“So far, so good,” you whisper in response. To distract yourself from how solid Matt is against your back and how he’s practically wrapped around you, you start tapping at your phone to get it to focus in the low light. “Are you having a good time?”
He hums into your skin, then gives another kiss, “the best time. Doesn’t smell nearly as bad as I thought it would and the animals seem well taken care of.” 
“It’s AZA accredited,” you instantly chime, and he huffs against you. You did so much research about the zoo beforehand, so that you could answer any questions Minnie had. So far, she’s had zero. 
“I don’t know what that means.”
You angle your phone to get a picture of Minnie and the enclosure she’s looking into, and whisper back, “It’s like the board that makes sure the zoos are humane and everything is done properly.” 
He hums again, then buries his nose into the crook of your neck. You try to not shiver, but you do end up pressing back into his hold as you watch your daughter. You fall into a pleasant silence, swaying slightly in Matt’s arms, as Minnie moves between the different displays. She has no apparent interest in learning the types of animals she’s looking at - she goes right into talking to them. When she gets a little too far away, you gently guide Matt down the hallway, all while he stays wrapped around you. 
“I like your feetsies,” Mouse tells an elephant shrew, and you turn on your camera to record her interrogate the little creature. “How many toes do you have? I can…I see…I see three toes. Do you have three toes? I gots five. But they go in shoes. You don’t haves shoes. Where are your shoes?”
You and Matt follow Minnie all through the Mouse House for almost thirty minutes. You let her take her time - you are in no rush to go back out into the heat, and you want her to not only enjoy herself, but tire herself out. She’ll get a burst of energy after lunch, but by the time you leave for the day, you hope to be a zonked-out toddler. 
At the last of the exhibits, Matt gently nips at your throat before mumbling against it, “I have a surprise after this.”
You have no idea what he could possibly have up his sleeve, but whatever it is, it is making him start to grin and get a bit of cockiness to his voice. So, to tease him right back, you play dumb.
“After this?”
“After the Mouse House,” he confirms, squeezing you and rocking you in place. You start to smile at his teasing and let yourself enjoy it. 
You hum, then begin to trace your fingers over one of the hands on your hips as you question, “A surprise? After the Mouse House?”
“A surprise after the Mouse House.”
That, of course, gets Mouse’s attention. She whirls around, eyes going wide with toddler excitement as she asks, “A surprise?”
“After the Mouse House,” Matt repeats, a mix of pride and smugness in his words. You can tell he is enjoying this interaction and that funny feeling in your heart and stomach return. 
“Is it a pony?!”
You pull away from Matt just as he starts to laugh, and as you do Minnie hurries over to take your place. He scoops her up into her arms, and with all the fondness in the world, tells her, “No, it’s not a pony.”
She dramatically flops over his shoulders with a big pout, then, like it was all a joke, hurriedly moves to hug him around his neck and with pure toddler innocence tell him, “You’re better than a pony!” 
Always ready for their sweet moments, you snap multiple pictures as Matt hugs his daughter back tightly and you just barely hear him whisper back, “I think you’re better than a pony, too.”
As always, it takes him a few moments to release Minnie and set her back down. She instantly latches onto his hand and begins to shake it vigorously, “I wanna know the surprise!” 
Matt is quick to concede to her demands, “Okay, okay, sweetheart. Let’s go to the surprise.” 
You put your phone back into your purse so you can slip over to the pair and offer your arm to Matt. He takes it just above your elbow, and you start towards the exit of the Mouse House, Minnie skipping along on the other side of Matt.
You’ve not walked with Matt before where he is the one to lead you, but you are sure to be in step with him, so no one takes a second look. His cane is folded up and tucked into your purse, so you don’t think anyone would guess he is blind just by looking at him, but your anxiety tells you someone is always watching and one little slip up will have people questioning you. 
Once out in the sunshine, Matt directs you back towards the gorillas again. You are confused about what could possibly be back that way that you don’t already know about, but you trust him.
“For your surprise,” he says to Minnie as you walk, “you have to be quiet, okay? We can't be loud and attract other people because this surprise is a secret.”
That has you even more curious about what could possibly be going on, but you focus on your daughter’s reaction to the request. You know she knows what a secret is, but you don’t remember if you’ve ever asked her to keep a secret before.
Mouse’s free hand goes into her mouth as she thinks over Matt’s request, and you try to not gag. Her fingers must be covered in all sorts of germs, and you should have been more on top of sanitizing them. A nice lesson in hindsight.
Moments later, she drops her hand, and she looks up to Matt and squints suspiciously, “can Mommy know the secret?”
Pride streaks through you at her question and you might get a little bit teary eyed. She never fails to amaze you with how her mind works and what information she takes in. The fact she’s aware she shouldn’t keep secrets from you is probably the highlight of your week - Matt eating you out included.
“Of course, Mommy can know the secret,” Matt tells her instantly, “We should not keep any secrets from Mommy. It’s important she knows everything so she can keep us safe and happy.” 
As he says that, he squeezes your arm a little and you know he is talking about himself as well. You remember all the times he’s told you he doesn’t want to keep anything from you, and you know he’s telling the truth. He’s been very open with you about everything, even if it has taken some time for everything to rise to the surface. You don’t blame him for that at all - the things he keeps close to the chest are pretty important and you more than understand him not telling you on day one.
But he did tell you, and he has been honest about not being ready to divulge everything just yet, and that is what matters. 
“Mommy keeps us safe and happy,” Minnie mimics and you have a feeling that is going to be added to her repeated phrases.
“Mommy keeps us safe and happy,” Matt repeats, then adds, “Can we be quiet, though, so other people don’t know?” 
Mouse nods and you have a feeling that whatever Matt has planned is going to get her extremely worked up. 
You end up in a very secluded inlet, away from the main path, surrounded by trees, and part of you wonders if you are meant to be able to come to this spot. There is no one else around and you don’t know what sort of surprise Matt could possibly have that requires you to come here.
Your questions are answered only seconds later, when a friendly voice comes from above you.
“Hi, there!”
You jerk your head up, and hanging there upside down from a tree, is Spider-Man. 
Your daughter loses her fucking mind. 
It’s like it is in slow motion - Minnie gasps with her whole body before dropping Matt’s hand. She turns to latch onto his pants, instead, and begins to pull on them over and over with enough force you think she’ll rip them. You don’t know if she remembers that she’s supposed to be quiet or if she’s so excited she can no longer vocalize, but she starts to whisper-scream.
“Daddy, Daddy! It’s Spidey-Man! It’s Spidey-Man!!!”
You try to not go slack-jaw in your own amazement as the vigilante lets go of his web and drops to the ground right in front of your daughter, doing a backflip in the process. 
“That’s me!” Spider-Man declares, and he sounds way younger than you thought he would. “I heard it was your birthday, so I had to come and say ‘Hi’!” 
You rip your eyes away from the hero to stare at Matt and he looks like he is trying to not look smug as hell. You have no idea how he pulled this off - this is the real Spider-Man. The fake ones can’t hang from webs and sneak into zoos. 
Does he work with Spider-Man when he’s out as Daredevil? And did he actually request for the man to come say Happy Birthday to Minnie? Does that mean he knows who Spider-Man is behind the mask? And vice versa?
“It’s my birthday!” Minnie chokes out and she sounds like she is about to start crying. You know she loves the hero, but you did not think he would get such an intense reaction. You turn your gaze back to her, your own excitement growing in your belly.
“Happy Birthday, Minnie!” Spider-Man tells her in the cheeriest voice, before crouching down and throwing open his arms, “Do you want a hug?” 
He barely finishes getting the words out before Mouse is letting go of Matt to launch herself at him. He wraps her up in a hug and she just clings on. You want so badly to take a picture, but you respect that this is a secret meeting just for your baby. 
You’ll just have to commit every moment to memory.
Matt has let go of your arm, so you turn so you can grab onto his bicep again. You lean against him and let yourself grin like an idiot as you watch your daughter with her hero.
“Your Dad told me that you’re really smart and like to learn new things,” Spider-Man says to the top of Mouse’s head. You wonder exactly how much information about your family was exchanged, but that’s something you can review later. 
Minnie just barely nods against the man’s chest, and you can hear her start to talk, muffled against his suit, “I knows my ABCs and how to count ands I can do one plus one.” 
“You can do one plus one?!” 
“Elmo taughts me,” she explains in the sweetest and watery voice, “Its two.”
“That’s amazing,” Spider-Man tells her, “Keep watching Sesame Street, it has a lot of good lessons. Do you like Beaker and Dr. Honeydew from the Muppets? They were my favorites when I was little like you.” 
Minnie squirms against Spider-Man and you expect her to pull away, but apparently, she is just getting more comfortable, because she nuzzles back into him and goes, “Meep, Meep.” 
You laugh into Matt’s shoulder, overwhelmed with how sweet she is. Matt gently pulls his arm from you so he can yet again hold you close. You hand moves from his bicep to his chest, and you curl your fingers into his shirt, over his heart. You can’t tear your eyes away from your daughter to look at his expression, but you have a feeling it is a lot like yours.
“That’s right, ‘meep, meep, meep, MEEP,’” the vigilante does a good Beaker impression, causing a round of giggles. “Well, because you are so smart and your Dad is a pretty cool guy, I got you something I think Dr. Honeydew and Beaker would approve of.” 
Your eyes go wide at the statement, and you cannot believe what you heard - Spider-Man, the famous New York vigilante, got your daughter a birthday gift?
Apparently, Minnie can’t believe it either, as she pulls back just a little so she can look up at him, and asks in the tiniest voice, “A presents?”
“A present!” He explains, then, so fast you barely see him do it, he flicks out a hand and shoots a string of web up into the trees where he has been waiting. Then he pulls and a box comes flying back at him. He expertly catches it, and you can see it is wrapped in blue wrapping paper that has white sparkly snowflakes all over it - clearly Christmas themed. You don’t think Minnie cares at all, because when it is held out to her, her little brown eyes just get so big.
“For you! Happy Birthday!” 
Mouse looks back at you for permission and you quickly nod. She delicately takes the gift and once it is fully in her grasp, tears into it. As soon as it is free of its prison, she holds it up in triumph, “A mibo-scope!”
It is indeed a miniature microscope - at least that is the main picture on the box. You think it is one of those ‘Baby’s first science kit’ type things and you just know you are going to spend so much time over the next week hunched over it with Minnie. 
“What do you say, sweetheart?” Matt gently prompts and she instantly throws herself back into Spider-Man’s chest. She drops the box in the process, but the vigilante has lightning-fast reflexes and catches it before it hits the ground. He sets it aside before properly hugging your daughter again.
“Thank you, Spidey-Man! You’re…you’re the bestest! Bestest-bestest! I loves you!” 
“Aw, thank you! I love you, too!” 
There is a gentle pressure to the top of your head, and you realize Matt has turned his so he can press his lips there. You shuffle even closer to him, tightening your grip on his shirt. 
As you watch your daughter hug her favorite super-hero, you realize you have never been this happy before in your life. Everything in this moment is perfect. You would not change anything at all, and you do not think you would change anything that lead up to this moment of time. You wish and pray you could trap the day in a bottle and hold it in your heart forever. 
You and your precious Winifred Love are blessed that not only is Matthew Murdock a good man, but he is also a good father. 
---
a/n:
And that concludes Season 1 of 'and then I met you'!
Next, we are onto Season 2 and diving into the Sokovia Accords and how it will affect our perfect little family.
Special thanks to @ebathory997 for their help with information about the Bronx Zoo and special shout out to @bellaxgiornata @mattmurdocksscars @she-likesorchids and @loveroftoomanyfandoms for all of their amazing support <3 You guys are amazing and I could not have written any of this without y'all.
--
tags:
@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 
@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath @roxytheimmortal 
 @allllium @waywardcrow @thatkindofgurl
@anehkael @akilatwt @lostinthefantasies @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @ethereal-blaze
 @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
@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare 
@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 
@
two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @ astridstark13
 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday
@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face
435 notes · View notes
foli-vora · 2 years ago
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pretty boy
matt murdock x f!reader
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A/N: This gif should be fucking illegal. There I was, just minding my own business at 12.30am thinking ‘hey I should probably get some sleep’ and then bam—suddenly I was obsessed with needing to suck this man’s dick. So here we are—enjoy.
This is a drabble of 500+ words and I can’t be bothered tagging so yeah.
Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY: oral sex (m), swallowing, the need to have this man weak and whiny at my fingertips… look, this is probably a mess but idgaf
-
He’s so fucking thick.
An ache is quick to build in your jaw, your mouth straining uncomfortably as his cock disappears beyond your lips. He hits the back of your throat and you inhale sharply to push just that little bit further, to take him deeper, to drive him closer to that sweet edge you’d been teasing him with.
You fight the discomfort eagerly, practically hanging onto every little whine and exhale that falls from his lips. He always sounds so fucking pretty, breathless from being lost in his pleasure and full of praise for every inch you take greedily.
He never knows where to put his hands, and you’d laugh if you didn’t have the solid length of him heavy and throbbing against your tongue.
His fingers trace your cheek, glide over where your lips part around the width of him, swipes through the saliva that gathers at the corner and spills down your chin. They curl around the back of your head, and you tremble from the strength you feel lingering behind his touch, the temptation to hold you steady and fuck up harshly into your mouth almost overcoming his patience.
One day you’d break him. One day. 
His hands move again, quickly coming to rest over yours where they’re spread out across the scarred expanse of his hips, holding him in place. He’s quick to intertwine his fingers with yours, seeking a physical tether to the world as he drowns in an endless void of ecstasy. 
A brief tang of salty precum oozes from the tip of his cock and sinks into your taste buds as you pull back enough to take a breath, and your tongue drags over the smooth head firmly before gently rubbing along the lower side where you feel his frenulum, massaging the spot over and over and over—
He jolts, toned stomach jumping at the sensation and you groan weakly around him, eyes fluttering as he bucks into your mouth. He’s close. You hear it in the way his lips form the plea of sweetheart, the way he helplessly cries out for his God and begs for that little push over the edge.
Please, sweetheart. Just a little more, j-just like that—God, please, yes—
He erupts on your tongue with a flood of thick heat and a delightfully filthy moan that has your weeping cunt clenching from the low obscene rumble of it, and you swear you’ll never get enough.
You swallow it all down eagerly, tongue rolling over the length of him until he finally starts to soften in your mouth and his thighs start to shake from overstimulation. You pull away and let him fall from your lips with a low pop before delivering a final kiss to his thigh and standing. You resume dressing, fingers numb from his tight hold and slow as they try to continue buttoning your shirt as the morning light filters through the window. 
He pants into the air of the bedroom, a blissed out, tired smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he swims in his post orgasm waves, “What was that for?”
“You’re just so damn pretty, Matthew.”
5K notes · View notes
chaithetics · 6 months ago
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Sweeter Than Honey
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Pairing: Matt Murdock x f (afab) plus size reader Prompt: Smutty fic w/afab bi plus size reader & Matt Murdock. The smuttier the better! Word count: 4.2K Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smutty-smut-smut! I think this is the smuttiest thing I've ever written. Language warning, I think! No physical description other than reader being plus size. One reference to reader being bi. Established relationship. Not proof or beta read. I A/N: I'm so excited to share the 2nd Fics for Palestine fic (you can learn more at that link)!!! A massive thank you to @thatesqcrush for donating to PAL Humanity! I really appreciate it, and hope you enjoy it! I hope everyone else enjoys this Matt fic! I did write half of this loopy on pain meds and fuelled by sleep deprivation so be kind lol! I've had a pretty cursed week. Comments and reblogs are always welcomed and appreciated! 🫶 P.S. Keep doing what you can to support Palestine! It's all important, whether it's donating, contacting your local and relevant political reps, sharing and engaging with resources and posts, showing up to local events etc. Here is a post I made with free things to do from home to help Palestine. Much love 🖤❤️🤍💚 Gif by @cellophaine
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The city that never sleeps at night, is still humming with life. That’s all out of focus as you’re sprawled out in bed, enjoying the soft pitter-patter of rain against the windows of Hell’s Kitchen, it’s lulled you in and out of sleep throughout the evening. That and the body of the devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 
Matt and you had spent the afternoon inside, making love, cuddling up on the sofa watching some television and listening to the audio description voiceovers. After an early dinner of takeaways that had been delivered to the apartment’s doorstep and possibly another orgasm or two, Matt had then left for a patrol. 
The rest of your evening had passed pretty quickly with mindless activities and chores and now you were in bed. Dozing in and out of sleep, you’re well aware that your sleep wouldn’t be unbroken until you had the warmth pressed against you that only Matt’s body could provide. There was something about how it felt to have his strong arms around you to be his little spoon and how he’d press kisses against your neck and shoulders as he’d start to enter and then later on leave sleep. 
It wasn’t long after your next yawn and long blink that you heard the telltale signs of Matt’s body quietly but still audibly entering the apartment. It was impressive, he was a fox of a man but he also moved in such a fox-like manner, it was sneaky, elegant, and careful, you’re sure that to those against him, it felt sly and quick too. 
You blink a few more times before you see his figure come into the bedroom, he’s walking fine, which kind of surprises you, his senses are spectacular but he was never gifted with super healing or anything, he had to suffer and bear the pain just like everyone else. You immediately smile as you see him come in. He quickly strips off of his vigilante gear and shoves it away and then walks to the bed. 
He crawls on the bed until he’s close to you, he plants a kiss on your plump upper arm and then starts to trace his fingers along it, trying to feel any freckles or moles that he maybe has missed a previous night and is yet to commit to his memory. It’s something that might’ve made you feel a tad insecure years ago, once upon a time but now, you just take it for the peaceful moment of love that it is. “How was it? You don’t look like a wounded warrior tonight.” You tilt your head slightly to look at him, you can’t help the feeling of contentment as you move a hand of yours to run through the soft and now sweaty hair on his head. 
“Quiet. Barely petty even.” He says as he moves so he’s leaning more on top of you, resting his chin on your chest. You hum in response, it’s a bit surprising but you’re not complaining, he’s home earlier which is perfect. It might be hard to believe but sometimes there are even quiet nights in New York, somehow. “You didn’t have any gentlemen or lovely ladies come over to take my place and keep the bed warm while I was gone, did you?” He asks playfully as his fingers feel the soft material of your nightgown as his hand runs along your full hips. 
“No, not tonight.” You reply with a small chuckle as you look at his handsome face, taking in how each feature of his looks in the dim light. 
“That’s good because I missed you.” He says in that voice that immediately makes your cheeks heat up and you can’t help but feel every filthy thought you’ve ever had about him floating around in your head at this moment. 
“Is that so?” You ask in a whisper, you try to keep your voice even but it cracks with a bit of need and you know he hears it. He would’ve sensed it by now. “Of course.” Matt lets out a small breathless chuckle his expression morphing into a wider grin as he runs his hand down to your thick thighs, caressing gently with the midnight whispers of what’s to come. You watch his handsome face, taking in the expression, how there’s a playfulness in the quirk of his lips but there is also concentration etched into his brows and highlighted by the dim, evening light. Your eyes drop to watch his hand as you feel his rough, calloused hands gently push the hem of your nightgown up to more of your stomach. You don’t even realise you’re holding your breath until his fingers feel your now bare upper thighs and he squeezes them, you let out a short breath and quickly inhale again. Matt was absolutely in love with you and your body, he worshipped you, exactly as he should. You were a bit surprised that after the day you’d both had and then him coming back from a patrol he was already ready to go but as your cheeks heated up, he could be completely insatiable at times but you didn’t have a single complaint. “May I, darling?” He asks. “Yes, now…” You whisper with a smile to match his growing one. “Good, I need you…” He lets out a small groan as he moves so he’s now hovering over you as he spreads out your thighs and gets between them. He runs his fingers along the sensitive skin of your plush thighs. Matt brings his head down and leaves a trail of warm kisses inching up your thighs, you inhale and let out a little moan as you feel his hot breath on you and his soft, warm lips. You move your hand to touch the top of his head and run your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp as his kisses trail up higher and higher, getting closer to your core. He moves a hand up to lightly squeeze the beautiful love handles you have, he’s been enchanted by you from the very first beat of your heart that he could hear. He’s obsessed and his senses could just drown in you, he will happily shut out the rest of the world and all the responsibilities, codes of ethics and Catholic guilt that haunt him just to be fully focused on and overwhelmed by you. His hand that isn’t squeezing you moves up to get closer to your sweet hole. “You’re so perfect… So beautiful…” He says in a husky voice between the thigh kisses he’s showering you with. Matt’s fingers tease around your folds, more on the furthest parts of your vulva he can feel your arousal, he can smell it. He’s barely touched you but you’re already so needy and ready for him, he grins like the devil he is and his fingers edge closer to your core, he expertly teases his fingers through your slick folds. When he feels your juices and just how turned on you are, a deep groan leaves his mouth and you see his hips instinctively press into the mattress for a moment. You let out a gasp, it never takes him long to get you slick like this, just a few words and that infamous cocky grin that’s a frequent fixture on his face in the bedroom. You run your hands through his hair a bit more urgently now while he keeps teasing you with his digits, his fingers becoming coated in your juices. “Already soaking wet…” Matt teases in the sexiest tone you’ve ever heard, you let out a barely audible and desperate whimper, just needing more. You need more of him, as you watch Matt lift his hand away for a moment to bring it closer to his face. You watch him with heavy-lidded eyes as he licks it up, at first it’s slow and then he sucks the taste of you off his fingers more quickly and he moans. 
“You always taste so good, sweetest thing in the world…” He says as he then moves his hand back down and fingers now circle your sweet hole, teasing you and you let out a whine as you just want to swallow him up now. “You taste so good, and you’re just so wet, baby… That pussy is just begging to be licked…” He groans, a neediness in his voice that’s just as equal to the need burning inside of you. “Please, Matt…” You whine out, your nails scratching his scalp a little bit more roughly. You need him, every muscle in your body is craving to feel his sensual touch, each inch of your skin needs to feel his body and you just need to be filled by him. 
He quickly pushes his index finger in and you moan out. He closes his eyes as he slides it in and out, enjoying how your velvety walls swallow him, focusing on the other-worldly feeling of your body and the sweet musical moans each thrust of his fingers pulls out of you. You’re his soft and sexy instrument, singing out the most melodic tune. You moan out and tug his short hair as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out, he lets out a groan as he feels more and more of your juices. He slips another finger in, you’re that wet it slides in so easily and he groans at the feeling of how you just swallow that finger up and you moan yourself at the the fuller feeling it gives your hole. He can’t help it, he was right in his earlier statement, your body is just begging him to dive right in for a taste, he can’t resist it anymore, so he continues to pump his fingers in and out, pressing them in deeper and moving them at a faster pace as he brings his face closer to your core. Matt trails his tongue along the edge of your core, lightly running it along your folds as he moves his thumb to circle your sensitive little bud that is just begging for his attention. 
His tongue glides amongst your folds and he moans against you as his fingers keep pumping and his thumb circles more lazily against your bundle of nerves. He moans against you and the simple vibrations of that make your body shake slightly and you moan out as your breathing becomes more shallow from the pleasure. “You make me feel so good Matt.” You whine out as you buck your hips up to meet his mouth and fingers more. That simple movement drives him more wild and he pumps his fingers more intensely making you moan. He starts to move his tongue more through you and eagerly laps up between your folds, his tongue brushing against your clit. He’s savouring the sweetness of your pussy like he’s a man that’s been absolutely starved, that he hasn’t eaten in forever and he’s never had a meal as decadent as this, that he’s never even dreamed of something so delicious and perfect even though his face had been buried between your thighs only hours ago, not weeks, months or years like you might imagine with how eager he was. 
Matt licks your clit, circling it with the biggest need to pleasure you, he needs to devour this divine feast in front of him. He groans as he thinks about how he’d happily spend the rest of his life in this exact position, pleasuring you exactly like this. He needs to make you come, he’s feeling himself becoming harder and harder the more he thinks about making you come and feeling it on his tongue, his face, and being able to taste it. The feeling of Matt’s fingers curling inside you more makes you groan and your eyes widen as he sucks on your bundle of nerves and then hums, his mouth constantly going between lapping you up, licking and sucking on your clit. You’re getting closer and closer, you pull on his hair more and whine out loudly, you can feel the start of that incredible high kicking in. “I’m so close- I’m gonna-I’m gonna come Matty…” You frantically cry out as your eyes squeeze shut and your back arches as you tug on his hair, making you groan, he keeps licking and circling your clit and thrusting his thick fingers into you as you become undone and cry out as you release directly onto his fingers and tongue. You shake slightly as you come down from that high, your body overcome by pleasure and your sensitive spots becoming even more sensitive from release. Matt’s fingers move at a more gentle pace that pulls out another soft moan from you as you take some deep breaths. Matt licks you up, taking in each drop of your juices that he can just so he can treasure them on his tongue, let the flavour become a permanent memory for his mouth. One might think he’s licking you clean and while it’s a bit overstimulating his tongue is gentle, he isn’t done with you yet. He needs more of his sweet treat first before he can even think of moving on to having another part of him buried deep inside of you. He needs to make you come again first. You moan, and keep your eyes closed as all you can do is try to focus on your breathing, something you’re only able to do for four seconds, at the most. And you’re immediately back to only being able to focus on the feeling of his tongue working you through it. How it just makes you more aroused and wetter, you can’t help but think about how wet is mouth and chin must be, how they’ll glisten with your juices when he does pull away. “Matt…” You whisper and moan as you tug his hair lightly. “Come on baby.” He whispers against you before slowly licking through your folds again, the hand that isn’t slowly fingering you, moves up to your round stomach to caress it lovingly, almost reassuringly. “Just give me one more, please?” He asks as your cheeks heat up at that and you let out a little chuckle between moans. “It’s not going to take long for that.” You groan out as you feel his tongue apply more pressure to your hypersensitive bud. 
“I know.” He whispers cockily against your clit which makes you shiver. Of course, he knew. What didn’t he know, he was a sexy human lie detector, one conveniently buried between your legs right now. 
You’re feeling a bit overstimulated at the strokes of his tongue, but it also feels incredible as he keeps swirling his tongue, circling and sucking on your clit. He sucks a bit harder like his life depends on it as he applies more pressure with his mouth and also presses his fingers a bit deeper into your hole. You’re soaking him but he can’t help but moan against your core at the feeling of your needy, overstimulated bud and how your slick walls keep swallowing his digits up with each movement he makes. 
Matt sucks a bit more hungrily as he can tell from your heartbeat and breathing that he’s brought you right back to the cliff again and you’re not even moments away from being pushed over into another release. God, he loves working you up like this and you love it too. One hand is tugging on his hair, becoming rougher with each calculated lick of his and your other is up to the other side of the pillow, tightly holding it, digging your nails in as you moan and feel that feeling of an orgasm building up again in your core. Your hips buck more into his face as you moan and your back arches as you whine out, your eyes roll back as the warm waves of that sweet release overcome you. Any and all tension in your body leaves as his tongue laps you up through your release. He was so obsessed with the taste of you, it was so much better than any cheap beer that Josie’s could serve on a hot night, sweeter than any honey that’s melted on his tongue. 
His hand gently caresses your hip, tracing along an imaginary map as he licks you through the high and cleans you up with his mouth. He groans and comes up, leaving his second home for a moment. 
“You taste and feel so good, I need to feel you more, I need to be buried in you.” Matt pants out as he moves up so that his hips are closer to yours and his face is hovering just inches against you. His voice is needy and low, if you were standing up and not already lying down on the bed you would’ve melted into a puddle. “Mm… Let me feel you deep inside, fill me up, Matty.” You whine out quietly as you run a hand lazily through his hair and place the other on the back of his shoulder. “My fingers weren’t enough were they?” He asks as he moves each of your legs to wrap around the back of his waist. “No..” You whine out as you look at him with heavy lids, running your fingers through his soft hair. “Mm, say my fingers weren’t enough.” He whispers and your cheeks heat up. “Your fingers weren’t enough Matty, didn’t make me feel full enough baby.” You moan out as you feel him press in. He groans at the feeling, he slides in slowly but easily with your two recent orgasms and just how soaked you are. He takes a shaky breath as his eyes close and he feels your body adjust to his entry and how your walls swallow, tighten and clench around his member. 
“Mmm…” You moan out as your head falls back further into the pillow, Matt groans and starts to slowly move his hips against you which draws out a chorus of groans and moans from both of you. He caresses your plump thighs while moving and goes on a journey of kisses starting with your full cheeks to your soft jaw and along your sensitive neck, he groans and smirks at the way you moan when he gives those spots attention. His kisses are soft and sensual as he caresses and wraps his arms around you while he rocks in and out. “So perfect for me every time, you know that right? So perfect, and you swallow me up, and your body… I don’t need anything else.” He says and you feel his breath and each word tickle against your collarbone as he thrusts in and out. Your cheeks heat up and you groan as he thrusts in deeper and you feel yourself clenching around him, swallowing him up more with each perfect movement he makes. You love him, you love how he feels, how he makes you feel, you love who he is as a person and you love his body. Matt’s body presses closer against yours, flushing your bodies together, chest to chest, his forehead leaning against yours as he rocks in, his arms wrapping around, pressing your head closer ever so lovingly. He always loves this cuddling position, that makes your bodies feel even more like one. He moves deeper into you, enjoying this as he presses a soft kiss against your lips but he can’t help it. Your body is too goddamn perfect. Every bit of self-restraint leaves his body at the way that your perfect pussy keeps clenching around his thick member, he wanted to make this last, to fully bask in it, but when you clench around him like that, tug on his hair and moan like that he can’t help it. Who could? He groans hungrily and starts to move his hips quicker, the pace becoming deeper and more intense with each movement and he groans at the feelings. God, you feel incredible. He’s never felt so good with someone like he does with you, he knows it sounds silly but he’s convinced that your bodies were sculpted to perfectly fit together. There’s no other explanation. He groans and his eyes close as he pants thinking about it, he can hear your heart rate increasing at the change of pace. You’re so perfect. You whine out at the new depth and pace, tugging on his hair as you bite your lip. Your fingers dance across his back as you scratch it with each deep thrust of his that pulls a moan out of you. He has you feeling completely full and you can’t help but gasp out at the loss with each time his hips come back. 
“You always feel perfect, you squeeze me just right…oh…” He groans and bites his lip, his arms wrapped around you move slightly so that he can cradle your head more and caress your forehead as he pounds into you. His groans are deep and just show you how much pleasure he’s in. You whine out and claw his back more, you’re sure that in the morning when you shower with him, there will be faint red lines on his back from your hands. The thought about that turns you on more as you keep scratching and moaning. You were flooding him as he kept moving deeper and deeper, each snap of his hips pulled more moans from you and he was groaning and when you clenched around him he’d sometimes let out a little hiss. 
It felt so good, too good, it shouldn’t be possible for two bodies to be able to bring each other this much pleasure. Yet there you both were in the bed you shared doing it anyway. Matt’s body kept moving at a quick pace, he was fumbling any form of control he had over making this last, his hips were quick but now he was thrusting into you more deeply and frantically as your room became filled with the noises of your bodies meeting and all your moans. 
Matt needed to chase his high now, he was too close and he knew it was going to happen in mere seconds, not minutes. He keeps driving his hips into you as he cuddles against you, you’re tugging on his hair and moaning against his neck, sucking on it when you’re not too overwhelmed to cry out. You keep tugging against his hair and moaning, you can’t read his body as well as he can read yours for obvious reasons but you know he’s getting closer, his breathing is shallow and his hips are moving intensely and starting to sputter. Matt groans loudly and kisses you hotly, pushing his tongue in and dancing with yours as he groans and swallows up your respective moans as his hips keep frantically moving to thrust in and out of your sweet, sweet hole until he gives his last groan against your mouth and releases, deep inside of you. He’s so loud and his eyes snap shot as he’s overcome with the feeling of that release. The warmth of his come floods you and he keeps his lips pressed against you softly as his body stills and after a moment, he pulls his lips away. Matt caresses your forehead as he pants, pressing a gentle kiss there. “So perfect.” He whispers before pressing another. You pant out and kiss his jaw. Nobody made love like Matt did, nobody could ever fill you the way he did and take you to absolute pleasure like that. He was perfect and you press kisses against his jaw in between your pants as your heart still races. He’s still inside of you. Jesus Christ, he’s still inside of you. You groan at that thought and then Matt presses a long and gentle kiss to your lips, his lips are so warm and soft. You smile as you look up at him, there’s some sweat on his brow and in his soft hair and your cheeks heat up as you can see some of your juices still glistening on his mouth and chin. 
He’s smiling widely as well, it’s not a devilish grin but rather a happy, content smile. He loves you, words aren’t needed. He pulls out after a moment and then lays back and pulls you carefully into his arms to rest your head against his chin and he closes his eyes. “You’re sweeter than honey.” He whispers as his hand gently caresses your cheek. 
“I guess that’s lucky for me.” You breathlessly whisper while trying to catch your breath. 
“No darling, I’m the lucky one.” He says as he pants and presses a warm kiss to the side of your head. You smile and that and you both let out a small chuckle as you cuddle more into his warm body. You might’ve not had a taste of him tonight like he did of you but he’s equally sweet as honey you think.
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ddejavvu · 10 months ago
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sooo mei I was reading through your matt murdock ml and stumbled across the mafia one and pleaseee that is so cute, would you ever expand on that au? like maybe r’s flat is broken into and before she can even go to the cops there’s a bunch of matt’s guys there like don’t worry we’ve got it handled and she’s just ???
mafia!matt is the last thing i thought i'd be writing in the year 2024 but i can work with what you gave me <3
--
You're not sure whether you'd consider yourself lucky for escaping the bank unscathed, or unlucky for having been in the bank during an active shooting in the first place. Either way, the entire ordeal leaves you unsettled for weeks. You're bordering on agoraphobic, but food is a must, so you set out to brave the streets of Hell's Kitchen in search of something quick and dirty.
Upon your return, you know you're unlucky. You'd locked the door when you'd left, but evidently that doesn't stop someone who's desperate enough to break into a place that's barely up to code. You stare into the gaping, dark recess of your burgled apartment, noting that several electronics and appliances are out of place, but none of them appear to be missing. Your television is cracked, but you suppose your computer will be a suitable replacement until you can manage to afford a new screen.
You back away from the door just in case there's still someone inside; you're not stupid enough to investigate for yourself. However, the moment you step back, you ram into someone behind you, and your mottled nerves make you nearly shoot out of your skin.
All you can manage is a muffled, 'mmf!' when a hand clamps itself over your mouth, but the voice accompanying the hand is quick to assure you, "Easy, tuts, we're not gonna make it worse. We're with- uh, the cops. Okay? We got a call from the neighbors, 'said they heard someone breakin' in. We've got it handled, alright? Just relax. You can head back inside, that creep is long gone. We'll have someone stand guard outside, got it?"
You're only let go of when your captor deems you calm, but your heart is still racing in your chest when you turn to face him. He doesn't look anything like a police officer, but he does look menacing. He shows you a badge and I.D, and they look authentic enough for your arrythmia to settle.
"Go on," He ushers you towards the door, "Get in there, we'll take care of it from here."
You adjust your grip on your plastic bag of frozen meals, passing a couple other men that are now posted at the front door of your apartment. Each attempts a kind smile at you, and you're glad to shut the door on them once you get inside.
There's a man on your couch.
You don't notice until you flick the light switch on, but he's sitting there, clad in a suit and sunglasses. You shriek, and briefly consider whether or not your frozen ravioli could be used as a suitable projectile.
"Relax," The man stands, an easy smile on his face, one that drips with sympathy, "I'm Matt. I'm here to stand guard."
"Why were you sitting in the dark?!" You demand, now doubting the validity of the police badge you'd seen earlier, regretting the decision to trust these less-than-official men.
"It doesn't matter to me whether it's light or dark," He chuckles, and your face flushes momentarily when you realize what his sunglasses are for.
"Oh. Well- well you're not doing a very good job of making me relax, Matt. I feel like I'm more in danger of you than I am of someone else breaking into my house."
The man's smile is gentle, but not weak, "Sorry. Just go about your business, okay Y/N? We'll replace your damaged property and be out of your hair as soon as we can eliminate the threat.”
"Eliminate...?" You echo cautiously, "How long does that take?"
"Depends. A day. A week. Months, maybe. But this is all for your precaution, Y/N," He stands, making his way over to you and carefully feeling out the broken glass on the floor with the toe of his shoe. He places a hand on your shoulder, "Just trust me, I'm here to help. None of this will ever happen to you again- not on my watch."
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peterman-spideyparker · 1 year ago
Text
Pearly White (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I had a cleaning about a week and a half ago, and I got thinking . . . What would Matt be like at the dentist? And I came up with this. Enjoy! :)
Summary: It’s a normal night until Matt pulls away from a kiss. When you find out the reason why, you ask him to go to your dental office and help him out.
Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, domesticity, idiots in love, dental pain/going to the dentist (nothing graphic or terribly descriptive, just general annual/semi-annual exam descriptions, girlfriend is a dentist), allusions to sex (p in v sex, m!receiving blowjobs)
Other Characters: None
Word Count: 1,844
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“Hey,” you smile as Matt walks through the door.
“Hey,” he mirrors, his smile matching yours. It doesn’t take long for him to put down his things and walk over to where you sit to give you a proper kiss. 
“I put your plate in the microwave,” you tell him. “I covered it with some foil, so it should still be warm if you’re hungry.”
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says with another kiss before undoing the knot in his tie and walking to the bedroom. “We weren’t sure how long we were going to be, so we ordered in. I’ll have a few bites, but there’s no promise I’ll finish it.”
“Well, I don’t want you to feel forced into eating if you’re not hungry,” you tell him as you resume your work with your appointment schedule for the next month. “I mean, I know it’s not going to go to waste. Hey, look at it this way—you have lunch for tomorrow!”
“Always the optimist,” he smiles as he leaves the bedroom in a t-shirt and sweats, moving to put his leftovers in the fridge before sitting next to you. You smile as he keens for affection, turning and placing a big kiss on his cheek. When he winces on contact, you immediately pull back. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask. 
“Nothing,” he deflects with a little shake of his head. 
“Matty, you winced at a kiss. My kiss. Something’s up.”
“It’s really nothing. Honest.”
“Please don’t lie to me.”
He lets out a soft sigh and hangs his head, remembering your promise to one another to never keep secrets—the only acceptable secrets being good news and sweet surprises. 
“My tooth has been bothering me,” he admits. “And it didn’t start when I was Daredevil. I was just Matt.”
“When did it start?”
“Last week?”
“Matt—.”
“I didn’t say anything because I knew you’d react like this!”
“I’m reacting like this because you waited a week, Matt! You shouldn’t push something like this off!”
“I hate dentists!” he blurts, his eyes wide and his chest rising and falling quickly.
“So you hate dentists so much, you decided to date one?”
“Sweetheart, you know what I mean.”
“I get it,” you say with a long sigh, sliding your hand in his. “The dentist isn’t anyone’s favorite, and with your senses, I—.” You stop mid sentence as something occurs to you. “Matt, when was the last time you went to the dentist?”
“It’s been a while.”
“Define ‘a while’. A few years?”
“A while,” he says with a sad little ‘you’re-gonna-be-mad-but-please-don’t-hate-me’ look.
“Matt . . .”
“It just hurts so bad when I go. The nuns made sure we had our annual appointments, but after that . . .”
“So the last time you went to the dentist was when you were 18?”
“17,” he corrects. 
“Matthew! How do you still have teeth?”
“I brush and floss. Sometimes I use a rinse.”
“This isn’t funny. Matt, please,” you gently beg. “This is your health we’re talking about!”
“(Y/N)—.”
“Please let me help you with this, Matt.”
“I’m okay, (Y/N), I promise.”
“Please. I will have my best hygienist stay and we will go slow and we will be careful. I will be right there to hold your hand.”
“Sweetheart—.”
“I will even do it. Cleaning and all,” you offer. “I just . . . I care about you so much, Matt. You shouldn’t avoid doing something for your health because you’re afraid of it. I love you, and that includes the things that come out of you.” You dip your head slightly as you give his hands a squeeze. “I don’t want to see you in pain. And if this turns into something bigger, I don’t want you to be in any more pain that you already are.”
“I’ll do it,” he whispers. “For you, I’d do it.”
You tilt your head up and absorb the tenderness and sincerity all over his face. You stretch and bring your lips to his forehead, pressing a long kiss to the skin.
“Thank you,” you whisper. “I love you so much.”
“I love you more.”
You kiss his forehead once more, running your fingers through his soft locks. “Will you let me look at it tomorrow night? I’d ask to go to my office now, but I don’t want to push my luck.”
He chuckles softly. “Okay. Tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” you tell him once more. “Can I at least get you some ice for it?”
“It only hurts when something touches it, or I chew. I’m okay.”
“Please?”
“You’re gonna keep asking until I say yes, aren’t you, sweet girl?”
“You know me too well.”
“Okay, then,” he says gently, brushing his nose against mine. “You can get me some ice.”
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“Alright, Matty,” you tell him as you wrap a paper bib around his neck. “If I start to hurt you at all or it’s uncomfortable or you need a break, just make a noise and I’ll stop, okay? Even if I gently poke you and you don’t like it, you make a noise, and we finish the exam.”
“Okay,” he nods. To the untrained ear, nothing sounds off. But you know Matt better—he’s nervous, scared even. 
“Hey,” you whisper. “I love you more than anything. I’m proud of you for doing this.”
“I love you, angel.”
With a kiss to his forehead, you lean him back in the chair and adjust the light above him. 
“Open your mouth and tilt toward me, Matty,” you say as you get your tools. He does as you ask and you gently start the exam, using your mouth mirror and curette to gently start looking at his teeth and cleaning them of plaque. You go very slow, taking your time on each tooth and doing gentle and repeated motions to get rid of all the build up.
“You doing okay?” you ask as you take your tools out of his mouth, giving him a bit of a reprieve.
“So far so good,” he says. “What’s the prognosis, doc?”
“Too soon to tell. You’ve got good teeth for not having braces, though. But I didn’t need to be in your mouth to tell you you have pretty teeth.”
“Isn’t it not kosher to flirt with your patients?”
“Not flirting to say someone has pretty teeth,” you smile, kissing the tip of his nose. “Besides, different rules apply when the patient is my boyfriend. Now, c’mon, open back up.”
Matt murmurs an “okay” before doing as you ask and lets you continue. He does really well with a mix of letting you work and short breaks, but when you hit a particularly tough spot of tartar and he winces as you scrape it off, you immediately withdraw and put your tools on the tray to your right.
“Okay, we’re done,” you say, moving to take off your gloves and clean up, hating yourself that you hurt Matt after he let you do something he didn’t want to in the first place.
“No, keep going,” he says.
“No,” you insist. “I promised you that at the first sign on pain and discomfort I’d stop. I hurt you—I’m stopping.”
“Hey,” he says softly, taking your hands in his. “I’m okay. I promise. I want you to finish up the exam.”
“But I hurt you,” you repeat softly. “I told you I didn’t want to see you in pain, and then I caused you pain.”
“You’re too sweet for your own good, angel. Please, finish.”
“Well, next is the polishing tool. The brush is loud. I have some earplugs if you want them to at least dull it.”
“You think of everything, sweetheart.”
Fishing out the little foam cones, you hand them to Matt and let him situate them in his ear canal before he sits back down and lets you finish it all up without a single cringe. Once you finish, you lean over and press a kiss to his lips, making him giggle and hold you in place for more embraces before sliding out the earplugs, expertly tossing them into the trash can on the opposing wall.
“You have a bruised tooth,” you say, taking your gloves off as you gently sit him up. 
“You can bruise a tooth?” he questions. 
“Mmhm. Whatever you bit down on, you bit hard and it bruised. If you had a cavity, it would’ve been a cracked tooth. The good new is that it should be feeling better by next week. But other than that, your teeth are beautiful and strong and healthy. Just use the fluoride rinse I use to help keep everything strong.”
Once the chair stops moving, you slide one of your hands in his, the other brushing hair off of his forehead. “How does your mouth feel?”
“It hurts. But nowhere near as bad as it would when I was a kid,” he says, leaning into your touch. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
“Forever and always,” I smile softly. “Would you let me do this again? Cleaning and exam, once a year?”
“I’d only say yes to you. I love you.”
“I love you more, Matty.”
“I do have a question, though.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t get mad?”
“Now I’m a bit worried, I’m not gonna lie.”
“Is this . . . Does your jaw get this sore when we, uh, you—?” His mouth doesn’t want to finish the sentence, but the look on his face and how he holds his hands tell you everything you need to know. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of your chest before you kiss his temple. 
“Oh, Matt,” you hum, feeling how hot your cheeks burn at his question. “Um, no, my mouth doesn’t hurt like that when I suck on you.“
“Good,” he smiles softly. “The only spot I want you to be sore is between you legs after I’m finished with you.”
“Then mission repeatedly accomplished.”
Now it’s his turn to chuckle, resting his hand on your neck and pulling you in for a kiss. “Let’s go home, sweetheart. You’ve been at this office long enough today, no thanks to me. We can pick up some dinner.”
“That sounds nice. But we’re cooking tonight. Until that tooth feels better, it’s strict doctor’s orders.”
“Oh?” he smirks.
“Mmhm. The last thing I need is you getting chicken stuck between your teeth, especially against the bad tooth.”
“So what do you suggest we make, then?”
You purse your lips to the side and think. “Homemade pasta? Soft, tasty, and you have all the ingredients in your apartment.”
“I’m actually out of eggs.”
“I don’t know how you survive, Matty,” you chuckle.
“Takeout, food clients give as payment, and the occasional meal from Mrs. Nelson,” he smiles. “Oh, and my amazing girlfriend is the most important part in ensuring my survival.”
“The we’ll go pick up some eggs, grab some things for a sauce, and some other things for the rest of the week that will be good on your tooth.”
“Sounds good, angel. Let’s go.”
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cyripticchronicler · 2 months ago
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Hiii I have a request for Matt Murdock I was thinking him with an reader who’s job has gotten more stressful and it starts to get to them they get dizzy and lightheaded but brush it off until it happens around Matt and he can sense that it happened and he gets all protective and caring
Preferably fem reader but gn is also totally fine so everyone can enjoy it !
If this isn’t your cup of tea I totally get that !
In His Arms
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Thank you for requesting, sweetie. I kind of went off track a little and I'm sorry :( (If you want me to rewrite it I happily will!) But either way, I hope you enjoy it!
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
Summary: Overwhelmed by your growing workload and the pressure to prove yourself, you keep your struggles hidden—even from Matt. When the stress leads to a breakdown, he pulls you back, reminding you that love means sharing the load.
TW: Panic attack, mentions of anxiety, pet names (I can't help it), swearing
Masterlist
Stress was a familiar feeling to you. Its sharp claws seemed always to be gripping onto you tightly. You’ve learnt how to manage the lack of air in your lungs and the painful squeezing of your heart whenever you go through a rough patch. 
That’s why the feeling of anxiety creeping up your spine was carelessly ignored. You regret that you shrugged the feeling away, too focused on your work. It’s much easier to calm your bones' nervous trembles before it worsens. 
But now it’s too late. 
You’ve been so distracted by your work. Your colleague had just gone on maternity leave after giving birth to twins. You weren’t sure what would happen to her workload, but you certainly didn’t think it would all be passed down to you. 
Now all your brain can seem to focus on is the deadlines coming closer by the minute. They flash in your mind each time you consider taking a break. You never take a break - this is your one chance to prove to your boss that you’re ready to take on more responsibility. The rumours floating around the office of potential promotions, motivating your hard work ethic. 
You’ve always been a hard worker; had always been distracted by what you consider important rather than what was essential- like eating, or sleeping. Each time you got away with it. You didn’t have anyone to look after you. 
Until Matt came along. 
He’s such an attentive man and would be even without his heightened senses. You knew he’d be worried about your desperation to complete your work, completely gone to the rest of the world as your stomach grumbled louder and your under eyes got darker. 
He’s a natural worrier. That’s what compelled you to keep your stress a secret. It’s hard lying to a human lie detector,  so you’ve taken to avoiding instead. It’s easy to avoid him when you’re so busy, anyway. A couple of messages per day seems to keep him subdued for now and you’re glad; it’s all the attention you could offer.
Your lip is pulled between your teeth, chewing hard enough to draw the taste of metallic blood. None of the words before you make sense through your blurry eyesight. As you attempt to read the same sentence for the third time, you angrily rip off your glasses and groan. 
Black spots take over your vision as you rub at your eyes aggressively, hoping the sickeningly dizzy feeling that’s making your throat feel tight will go away. It’s useless, yet you only allow yourself a second break before gulping down some water and returning to work. 
Your phone rings as soon as your fingertips touch the keys of your laptop and a curse slips out of your mouth before you can stop it. You hate yourself for the spark of annoyance that has your blood boiling when you read Matt’s name on your phone. 
He’d already left three messages from before. As well as a voice message that you hadn’t yet listened to; you were practically forced to answer the phone so as not to draw concern. You’re determined not to burden him with your issues - he’s a vigilante for God’s sake, he doesn’t need your petty problems on top of his own. 
“Hey, Sweetheart.” His deep voice crackles through your phone speaker. Instantly, your shoulders relax and your eyes flutter shut. He’s the bright sun during cold days, the flowers during winter; beautiful and everything you long to see.
“Hey, Matt.” You respond lazily, mustering up enough energy to open your eyes and read the words on your laptop screen. You use one hand to type while the other holds your phone to your ear. You can hear his smile in his voice. “I’ve barely talked to you all day. I thought you were coming to mine for dinner. Did you get my voicemail?”
Guilt nags at your stomach. “I’m so sorry, Matt,” the little sigh you can hear through the other line has your heart splintering, “I’ve just been so busy with staying on top of my work as well as Mara’s-”
“It’s okay. I know how busy you’ve been. I could come by with dinner. I can do some work while you do yours.” You hate to diminish the hope in his voice, but you know he'd be worried about your obvious stress as it shines through in your old clothing and unbrushed hair (not that he’d be able to see but feel). 
“Can we do a raincheck?” You whisper, guilt nagging at your stomach. His voice is so sweet. So understanding. It makes you want to cry. “Of course, baby. Try to eat, please. And take breaks. I’ll call you tomorrow; maybe we can go out for lunch.”
“Maybe,” If I’ve got enough work done, “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
You drop your phone on your lap as soon as the call ends. For once, you’re thankful for the large amounts of work, as it distracts you from the guilt that claws and tugs at your skin. 
⚝⚝⚝
The second time Matt calls, you’re nose-deep in paperwork that was slammed down on your desk. ‘More of Mara’s work,’ your boss said before leaving you with the rasing anxiety in your chest. Thoughts of taking your lunch break didn’t even assimilate in the blurry haze of your mind. 
Only the shrill ring of your phone brought you out of your bubble of work. Sighing, you don’t bother to check the name before picking it up, as you already know who it is. “Hey, Matt.” Your hand still scribbles words on the paper, phone pressed awkwardly against your ear by your shoulder.
“Hey. I called to see if you wanted lunch, but you sound busy.” Unlike last time, his voice doesn’t soothe your racing heart. If anything he makes it worse. “I’m so sorry,” you hope he can hear the sincerity in your voice, “I miss you. As soon as the crazy amount of work has subsided, I’ll call you.”
“Is there any way I can help?” You can’t help but smile at his caring nature, wanting nothing more than to be with him. But you know if you went to lunch you’d be too focused on work to be good company. “Remember that I love you?”
His laugh makes your heart melt, anxiety melting away with it. “Of course. As long as you remember that I love you. I won’t call so I don’t distract you from your work, but please take care of yourself. I love you so much, honey.”
“I love you too.” You hang up the phone and instead of returning to work immediately, you just sit there in silence, staring at the piles of paperwork in front of you. The sting of unshed tears joined by a nervous feeling in your stomach is enough to make you want to throw up. You’re so tired. 
You should have listened to your body. You should have gone out for lunch and taken a break. But instead, you got back to work, ignoring the bright red signs of a panic attack on the rise. 
⚝⚝⚝
Having been diagnosed with anxiety when you were younger, you’ve learned to identify signs of an upcoming panic attack. First, you begin to feel dizzy, then a little lightheaded. Your heart begins to hurt, and your stomach starts to turn. Then you can’t breathe, and you’re scratching at your skin to give your lungs more space to breathe. 
Now, as you stand in your kitchen, staring at the piles of paperwork that cover the dining room table, it’s hard to ignore how your body reacts to the sight of the never-ending workload; the feelings you so carelessly ignored before forced to be brought to attention. 
Your eyesight is unfocused, and you are unable to concentrate on the hand you’re using to prepare a small dinner. Your hands violently shake by your side and feel incredibly weak. But that isn’t what worries you; it’s the lack of air entering your lungs that has your eyes squeezed shut. 
Feelings of worthlessness travel up your throat and block your airways. You’re having a panic attack. The realization has you sliding down the fridge and to the floor, tears running freely down your flushed cheeks. You bring your knees to your chest, hands scratching at your throat as if it would allow air into your beaten lungs. 
Your body feels so weak, you’re sure you wouldn’t be able to stand up if you tried. You’re lost to the darkness and anguish the past weeks have wrought upon you; lost to the cruel insecurities your mind created to fool you into this vicious despair. 
No matter how hard you cry, how hard you claw and scrape at your skin, you still can’t breathe. Hopelessness washes over your chilled skin, pulling you into its shadows. You can do nothing but let it take you as its own, the fight for air warring off as you succumb to the darkness that spots your eyes. 
And as your eyes flutter shut, you fail to notice the opening of the window in the living room. You fail to notice the hurried steps and the gloved hands that hold your face gently. Or the man’s desperate calls of your name. 
⚝⚝⚝
The first thing you notice when you regain consciousness is the exhaustion that wracks through your frail body. The second thing is the man who lays next to you on your bed. 
Matt. 
He’s sleeping peacefully, chest moving up and down in slow breaths. You frown, unsure of why he’s here. The last thing you remember was you freaking out about the workload and having a panic attack. You must have fainted from the lack of air, you consider then immediately cringe. How embarrassing. 
“What are you thinking about?” You jump at the sound of Matt’s deep voice, eyes shooting up to watch a small smile grace his face at your reaction. “Why are you here?” The question comes out ruder than you intended, but Matt’s smile doesn't waver. 
“I was on patrol,” he begins, pulling you into his warm embrace, “and figured I’d stop by to check on you. I wasn’t going to come in, just listen-”
“-that’s not creepy at all-”
“-then I heard you panicking. Your heart was beating really fast and you were breathing really heavily. You were already passed out from lack of air by the time I was inside.” He pulls you in tighter like the moment still haunts him. You trace your fingertips gently down his bare arm, ear against his chest as you listen to his heartbeat. 
“What happened, sweetheart?” He asks when it became clear you weren’t going to speak. You sigh. “I’ve been a little stressed lately. And I should’ve listened to my body but I didn’t. There’s just so much work and such little time. I can’t handle all of this workload.” The familiar bite of tears has you shoving your head in Matt’s neck, letting him hold you tightly and reassure you that everything will be okay. 
“Why didn’t you tell me? We could have worked through your stress together,” He questions quietly and you shake your head in response. “You take the burden of everyone else’s problems, and still go out every night to face all the bad guys- I just didn’t want to burden you with my problems on top of all the rest.”
He pulls away and you try not to frown at the lack of contact. Slowly, his fingers move under your chin and compel you to look into his beautiful, unfocused eyes that sparkle in the city lights shining through your windows. “You are not a burden. Your problems are not a burden. I want to be here for you. I want you to tell me what’s going on in that smart little head of yours-” He flicks your forehead playfully before giving it a small kiss “-And I want you to know you can talk to me.”
You nod your head slowly, feeling like a child that’s just been scolded. “Okay.” He lays there in silence for a moment, seemingly contemplating his words before he speaks, “I think you need to talk to your boss,” you open your mouth to protest but he cuts you off with a gentle squeeze, “This amount of work isn’t healthy. I mean, why hasn’t the workload been separated and passed around to all of your co-workers? It’s fucking stupid if you ask me. She’s obviously taking advantage of your brilliance-”
“-Matt,” You cut him off with an amused smile. His eyes glint at the sound of your giggles as if that was his mission all along and he won first place. 
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.” 
“Don’t thank me. If anything I’m being selfish.” He grins cheekily, kissing your palm as it raises to cup his cheek. “And why, pray tell, are you being selfish?” Your smile is sly and knowing. 
“Because I’m doing this to get my beautiful girl back and into my arms. Foggy isn’t as good company as you, y’know.” You giggle, holding him tightly as your mind settles on a decision. “I’ve missed you too.”
Tomorrow you’ll call your boss and ask for a lessened workload. But for now, you’re just going to lay in bed with the man you love dearly and let him hold you tightly. 
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 10 months ago
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the croissants
buttercup, chapter one
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a/n: i was actually working on something else, but then one night i got the desperate need to rewatch daredevil yet again and then this just kinda accidentally tumbled out. oopsi i guess.
summary: he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open.
warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, moving, lowkey love at first sight (for reader)
word count: 2415
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
series masterlist | next chapter
masterlist | join my taglist
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“Do you wanna make the call or would you like me to do it?” 
Turning to look at the robust and inked visage of your uncle, your face crinkled up slightly as you asked in a hesitant tone, “…would you mind doing it? Please?”
“Sure, hon,” Howard nodded before blinking down at his phone and dialling the number, “what kind? Margherita?”
“Yeah, and with some arugula on top, please,” you spoke as you squeezed by a tower of messy moving boxes to enter the open kitchen of your new apartment, “thank you!”
Hearing his footsteps carry him deeper into the new home, his voice soon rumbled, muffled behind your bedroom door. Opening up the cardboard box that half blocked off your empty fridge, you dug through it till you found a glass, swiftly straightening back up and filling it up with water.
“How are you doing, cupcake?” you heard the soft voice of Walter, your uncle’s husband, as you turned off the tab, “you gonna be okay tonight? Because if you don’t want to be alone, we can stay.”
“No, it’s alright, I think I’m okay,” you took a tiny sip before placing the tall glass down on the counter, “you both gotta get up early tomorrow to open the bakery anyways.” 
“It’s never stopped us before. Do you remember when you were 11 and you watched that terrifying movie at some slumber party?” a smile twitched at the bald man’s lip from the memory, “I don’t think any of us slept for a whole week straight and the bakery still kept on running. If we could get through those sleepless nights of trying to convince you that our apartment wasn’t haunted, then we can get through this.” 
Stepping up closer to him, you caught his hand in yours and said, “I think I’m gonna be okay, but thank you, Walter, really, for everything, for this, for letting me move back home and letting me stay there for over a year.”
“Hey,” he squeezed your palm and ushered you to meet his gaze, “you do not need to thank us for that. It’s–…” he dropped the heavy comment he nearly uttered and instead let out a low sigh, “we love you. It was the very least we could do.”
“I love you too,” you heard your voice threaten a tremble of vulnerability, “so much.”
As the bedroom door then swung back open, out stepped Howard with an exhale, “alright, the pizza is on its way. You gonna be okay here?”
“Yeah,” you offered him a nod before walking them out. 
Peeking back at you over his shoulder as he swung his bright red scarf back on, Walter raised his brows tenderly, “promise that you’ll call us if anything happens, yeah?”
“Promise,” you breathed as you watched them creak open the front door and step out into the cold hallway, “love you, goodnight!”
“Goodnight, hon!” Howard waved over his shoulder at your visage in the doorway as the couple reached the stairs, “see you tomorrow! Try and get some rest, just head in whenever you get up.” 
“Okay,” a soft smile warmed your features. Lately, or the past year actually, they’d let you cut down on your work quite a bit so that your hours at the bakery were significantly less and the only days you were to get up before the sun did was on weekends.
“Bye!” they both called out loudly as they disappeared from your view before your own echo rang throughout the hallway.
“Bye!”
You didn’t manage to unpack much, only half of your books, before the buzzer rang obnoxiously, causing your feet to scramble to let the delivery guy up. 
Swiftly locating your backpack, you fished out your wallet just before a knock boomed at your door. 
“That’ll be twenty bucks,” the pimply-faced pizza guy spoke in a monotone voice as soon as you opened up. 
Catching the shadow of another figure ascend the staircase just before you began to dig through your wallet, his handsome and scruffy features were adorned with a pair of glasses that had a darkly crimson tint to them.
“Yep… uh… do you have change for a fifty?” 
“Nope,” he impatiently blinked before loudly popping his bright blue bubblegum.
“Oh, alright…” you felt your palms begin to sweat, “do you mind just waiting here for a second? I might have some more cash in a jacket… somewhere…”
But just before you could duck back inside, the suit-clad man who had stopped to unlock the door directly opposite yours, whipped his own wallet out and handed off the needed bucks, “here.”
Satisfied, the pizza guy accepted the change and shoved the wide box into your arms before dashing off. 
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you blinked over at your generous, new neighbour, “I can pay you back–”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open. 
“Thanks,” you uttered, slightly windblown in your threshold as he disappeared into his apartment. 
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Slipping into your sneakers and hastily fastening them with sloppy bows, you slugged your jacket on and grabbed your bag. As you exited your apartment, the neighbouring door opened just as you locked up your own. 
“Oh, hi!” you squeaked over your shoulder as you turned the key, “good morning!” 
Your breath got caught in your throat as you turned to face him fully, shoving your bundle of keys into your pocket. Did he look even better than you remembered? Now no longer obscured by the terrible excuses this hallway had for lighting, the frosted window to your right illuminated every detail of him that you’d missed the first time around. 
“Morning,” he replied as he too locked his door behind him. 
Waiting a moment before you began to move your feet, you eyed his polished attire, “are you off to work?”
“Yep,” he nodded and fished out a folded-up cane from the inner pocket of his jacket, “you?”
“Yeah,” you sucked in a breath, “I’m Y/n, by the way, forgot to introduce myself the other night.”
“Matthew,” the bespectacled man extended his hand out for you to shake, “nice to meet you.” 
After ignoring the tingle his touch sent down your spine, the two of you began to descend the stairs.
“Thanks again for what you did with the–, oh! I should pay you back!” you reached into your deep coat pocket to locate your wallet, “I’m pretty sure I have–, how much was it?”
“You don’t have to, it’s fine, really,” he politely declined. 
Reaching the bottom of the staircase, your brows flew up, “seriously?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged as he then held the front door open for you to get out onto the street first. 
“Thank you, Matthew,” you slipped out, waiting a moment before you began to head off, “have a good day!”
“Yeah, you too,” he said, flicking out his cane to its full length, just before you both began to walk in the exact same direction. 
“Oh, wait,” you slowed as a giggle bubbled out of your lungs, “you’re also heading this way?”
“Oh, uhm, yeah.”
“Do you–, uh… I can wait for a little bit and let you get a head start if you–”
“Or you can just walk with me, if you’d like,” he suggested with a gentle smile that made your brain forget for just a split second where your destination was in the first place, “it’s fine with me, I don’t mind the company.”
“Okay,” you agreed in a quiet voice, returning to a brisk pace beside him. You didn’t take too many strides before a casual question nervously fell from your lips, “so, have you lived here long?” 
“In the apartment or Hell’s Kitchen?”
“Oh,” your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, “both, I guess.”
“I’ve been in the apartment for a while,” he told you, “but lived here in the neighbourhood pretty much all my life.”
“Yeah?” you smiled, maybe glancing over at him a bit too much for it to be safe as you walked, “that’s nice.”
“You?”
“Uhm, grew up in Brooklyn, moved here to live with my uncles when I was nine, after my parents passed.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” his low tone emanated an air of kinship. 
“It’s alright. It was a long time ago, I was just a kid... anyways! Enough about me before I spill all of my childhood trauma to you,” you gracelessly changed the subject, “you are in a suit.”
“I–,” a faint laugh tumbled out past his lips before he joked, “I’d sure hope I am and didn’t accidentally change into something else.”
“No–, I mean, yes, obviously,” you felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, “that was just a very weird and backwards way of asking what you do for a living.”
“Ah,” his dark brows lifted in comprehension.
“Let me guess…” you fiddled with your fingers as you thought, “accountant? No… politician? No… funeral director?”
“Funeral di–,” Matthew chuckled, “no.”
“Do you work on Wall Street? Oh, please tell me you don’t because here I was just starting to think you were super cool.”
“No, I don’t work on Wall Street, but good to know that you think I’m cool,” he smirked, making you regret letting that information slip, “I’m a lawyer.”
“A lawyer?” your eyes grew, “seriously?”
“Yep.”
“That’s–... that’s–… waow…” you uttered, completely dumbfounded by the imposing nature of his profession, “well, now I don’t wanna tell you what I do, because it’s so not as impressive.”
“Oh, come on,” he tilted his head, “now you have to tell me.”
“…I’m a baker,” you finally said, “actually,” stopping your stride, you briefly brushed his arm for him to do the same, “this is where I work, right here.” 
“Really?” 
“It’s called Buttercup Bakery,” you glanced up at the familiar storefront, “have you ever been in there?”
“No, never,” his head shook lightly as a small smile warmed up his features, “funny, my office is just a few minutes further down the street, I must have walked passed this place a thousand times but I never noticed it before.”
“Well, you know of its existence now…” you turned your head to gaze at his striking visage once more as he raised a hand to adjust his glasses, “do you wanna get a coffee or something? My treat, as thanks for the pizza.”
“I’d love to,” he sucked in a breath, “but I really have to get going.”
“Oh, yeah, of course,” you nodded lightly, “well, thanks for the walk, have a great day. Hope you win a bunch of cases and–, uh… I don’t know, help make the judicial system better,” you couldn’t help but physically cringed at your clumsy words. 
But your new neighbour didn’t seem to mind as he just chuckled before wandering off, “bye, Y/n.”
The small bell above the glass door to the bakery chimed softly as you pushed it open. The interior was simple, both in colour and design, but had a rustic charm to it that gave it a sense of home. Behind the counter, and the mouth-watering baked goods lined up and displayed behind the clear glass, stood Walter. Facing the long shelves adorned with various loaves, he grabbed a crusty baguette and slid it into an appropriately long brown paper bag.
Handing it off to the little old lady on the other side, he said, “here you are. That’ll be four dollars,” before she placed the money on the counter beside his half-read newspaper and strolled passed you, out of the bakery, “have a good day!”
Leaning back down to return to his paper, Walter didn’t glance up at you as he greeted, “hi, honey! You wanna hear your horoscope for today?”
Tugging down the zipper of your jacket, you joked self-reflectively as you began to shed your layers, “does it say that I’ll miraculously turn into a charming and charismatic adult instead of whatever this is?”
“…uh… no,” he furrowed his brow and finally shot you a brief glance, “it says that you're energized and creative. This new moon initiates two weeks of growing work, health and strength. Put your heart into your actions. Practice makes perfect. Oh, and it also says right here that the spelt flour bin needs refilling and that there are about a billion cardamom buns that need to be shaped.”
“Oh, it says all of that, does it now?”
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Letting a tense breath go, you apprehensively let your fist meet the dark door in three shy knocks. 
As soon as it swung open, the sentence, “do you like croissants?” sputtered out passed your lips. 
Head reeling back slightly at the unforeseen and sudden question, Matt blinked, “what?” 
“Do you like croissants?” you repeated as if it wasn’t strange to just blurt out something like that out of the blue. 
“Uh,” a smile then crept up on his lips, “hello to you too, Y/n.”
“I mean, I’ve personally never met anyone who doesn’t care for them, but I’m sure they exist.”
“Sure, I like croissants.”
“Oh, great, wonderful!”
Leaning against his door, his head tilted as you failed to continue, “…did you just have a burning desire to know that fact about me?”
“Right, no, I–, uhm, there were a bunch leftover today that we didn’t sell, so purely just to not let any go to waste, I thought you’d like some,” you held up the crinkly paper bag for him to hear. 
It had been a lie, but he didn’t have to know that you’d set some aside for him before they all sold out, just to have an excuse to talk to him again. 
“Oh, thank you,” he held out his open palms, “that’s so nice of you.” 
As you handed the bag off into his grasp, you felt as if your heart might beat straight out of your chest.  
“…alright, well…” you stumbled slightly, “I should probably head off to bed. Weekends are always the busiest, so my shifts are usually really long and I have to get up like super early, so... goodnight then!” 
And with that you awkwardly whirled around and scurried the short distance into your own apartment, only faintly catching his warm chuckle as you disappeared. 
“Night.”
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 1 month ago
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idk if this has been done yet
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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 6 months ago
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marvel men- stoner edition
this is how i think the marvel men would act while you (and them) are high:) please enjoy and get baked appropriately, whichever method you choose stay safe! <3
peter parker
- one word. munchies.
-this man prepares an entire feast before the two of you get high and he gets so hungry it’s not even funny. you pray to get a bite in… but he cooks such good food, so you can’t complain.
-you bring over a desert so it’s even, last time it was chocolate fudge brownies and he kissed the chocolate off your lips
- he’s very touchy, always wanting to cuddle!1!1 more than normal, like he literally sits you on his lap despite there being an empty chair next to him
-you guys watch starwars movies often, or compilations of brain rot that you both know all the references to- you laugh with him for hours to the point you’re silently dying, tears down your face and needing to call a time out
-often times you get high at his place, with lots of low, dim christmas lights, open windows for the nice breeze (and so you can sit on the fire escape) and he always makes sure your spot on the bed is made and has stuffies!
-essentials- fuzzy blankets. his camera (to take pictures of you), fuzzy peaches and baggy clothes
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bucky barnes
- super good at rolling. you make him roll everything for you and he pretends to get annoyed but secretly he loves it
- he has a much higher tolerance then you so it’s super funny when you’re already on cloud nine and he’s barley high yet, he makes fun of you
- he’s super protective of you if you guys go out, normally you go to the gas station to grab snacks because it’s close by, but despite this he holds you close and always is slightly in front of you when people are around to shield you
- you guys typically smoke at the little creek by your house and watch the stars or in your room, from out the window
- he really likes your room (mainly your bed) and is constantly insisting on cuddling, which results in you freaking out because he threatens to wear his outside clothes under the sheets if you don’t hurry up
- super calm and relaxed, but still alert to protect you! even if you’re in your home, he’s still a guard dog
- you tend to play with his hair and put butterfly clips in it (he “does not” like this)
- usually if you’re at your house you watch lord of the rings
- essentials- his fancy lighter he likes to show off, chocolate covered pretzels, baggy clothes and a nerf gun (to protect you ofc)
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steve rogers
- says “do a flip!” to anyone who is on a high surface, including you
- he always brings his notebook because he claims his ideas flow better when he’s had a few hits, so sometimes he’ll just randomly pull it out and write or draw
- he likes to draw you a lot whenever you guys get high together
- huge video game lover! you guys play Minecraft together at his house and build little villages (and then he brings you to the nether with no weapons so you’re running around freaking out)
- #1 fruit gummy and goldfish lover
- if he slid his hand on your upper thigh and gave you that look he knows drives you wild, you would have 216 nickles. which isn’t a lot but it’s weird it happened 216 times (you fuck after)
- does spot on fuck boy impressions to make you piss your pants from laughing so hard
- essentials- a game, lunchbox snacks, thin blankets (so he doesn’t get hot, he’s picky), and his notebook
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matt murdock
- he likes to eat “treats” that you bake, his favourite is the homemade rice kripsies with weed butter
- you guys always cheers them before you eat them after a nice homemade, candle lit dinner
- typically you guys lounge on the couch and like getting stoned when it’s storming so you can listen to the rain on the roof (his high, echoing loft makes it louder:) )
- he’s old fashioned, you guys make a charcuterie board and play board games like chutes and ladders and battleship
- matt like to run you a bath, light some candles and play with your hair while you watch a cheesy sitcom
- lazy make out sessions allll the time, and being perched up on his knee while he rubs your arms and back
- words of affirmation… always. he already tells you stuff all the time but when he’s stoned it’s every two sentences. “you’re so soft and sweet and so good” is a classic, where he rambles on
- just really romantic:) also SEXY! but sexy romantic. he takes care of you and touch is a must
essentials- red wine, sweet smelling candles, his dog eared box game of battleship and some good italian bread
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loki laufeyson
- this man… yeah. sex!
- the two of you stretch out with a soft blanket and watch compilations of people acting like idiots and getting hurt, or super bad reality tv to laugh
- i feel like he’s artistic! whenever you guys smoke that side comes out even more, so you guys often paint together- recently you did that trend where you painted your partner in real time
- he’s a cat man so your black cat locks is always with you, curled up in a ball or slung across his shoulder
- he really likes frozen/ cold fruits. like frozen grapes. i feel he would have a deep connection to them and would feed them to you like some greek goddess
- sometimes you guys smoke before a night out in town, and you go see a play or something and eat sooo much popcorn up in those little balcony boxes
- late walks in the city too, to look at all the pretty lights and such! he often snags you a fresh baked good from a vendor to nibble one
- essentials- his cat, his grapes, and his lady!! also he has this really soft pair of sweatpants he likes to wear, black of course! you guys have matching ones
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