#matt murdock imagines | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nevarrhoe · 4 months ago

Text

mea culpa (m.m)

SUMMARY: "mea culpa" (exclamation - noun/legal term)

used as an acknowledgement of one's fault or error.

↪ in which matt murdock accidentally falls in love with the district attorney's daughter.

warnings: smut !! p in v, she/her pronouns used for reader

series master list

any minors caught interacting will be blocked and reported

a/n: don't mind me bringing this series back THREE YEARS later bc i fell back in love with matt murdock. felt right to re-publish just bc i have edited it a little bit too. enjoy!!

You fucking hated these parties.

Sweaty lawyers, classy music, champagne that cost thousands of bucks but tasted like piss. And it was all for what? For every lawyer on the Upper East Side to have a dick measuring contest and decide who the best prosecutor was? Yeah, that sounded about right.

It would have been less insufferable if the barristers in question were younger, hotter and more prone to using antiperspirant. Sadly, they were none of those things. All well past their sell-by date. You could deal with an older man but these were just…old. Daddy issues were one thing but gran-daddy issues was where you drew the line. Much unlike the gorgeous blonde girls hooked on the arms of the eighty-plus law firm partners, flaunting the expensive rocks on their fingers and praying for the day that their husbands finally keeled over and left their estates to them. You’d always sworn not to become one of them. At least not until you were twenty-seven at most - and it wouldn’t have been hard, given that your father was the District Attorney and had every high-flying lawyer in his pocket.

You didn’t need their money though, not when you had his. Obviously, most of it was family money - district attorneys didn’t exactly make money bags. Not much of an issue given that your family name ranked a little between the Vanderbilts and the Rockerfellers.

So there you were, perched on the edge of some random firm’s annual mixer. You’d cracked out your mother’s vintage Chanel suit - a red-and-black checkered blazer and matching mini-skirt, finished with black platform heels and a spritz of Coco Chanel. There wasn’t a hair out of place - that was rule one of finishing school.

“Darling, are you going to mingle at all?”

Eyes flickering up from your champagne, they locked with your father’s a few feet away. The scowl was natural.

“What am I supposed to talk about?” you asked. “They’re all boring. And old.”

“Any man here would give you a job,” he replied. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to have one.”

“Oh father, please,” you snorted. “Your great-grandad didn’t spend years exploiting oil tycoons for billions of dollars for me to break my nails working.”

You could have gotten any job or degree you wanted - money aside, you were smart as fuck. You’d graduated top of your class at Harvard at the mere age of 21. Two years later, however, your degree was just decoration, with you having discovered you much preferred just…existing. And spending money on clothes, bags, and whatever else you fancied that day.

“Our ancestors worked hard-”

“- I never said they didn’t work hard,” you cut him off. “You clearly put a lot of effort into sucking Wilson Fick’s dick.”

Shoving your glass of champagne into your father’s hand, you blew him a kiss and stalked off.

It was that particular conversation that caught Matt Murdock’s attention.

He stood a good few meters away from you, nursing his own glass of barely-touch bubbly and fiddling awkwardly with his tie. Foggy Nelson had dragged him there - c’mon Matty, it’s just a formality he’d said - and then duly fucked off to flirt with a stunning law clerk. What a jerk.

Your comment had been flippant, but it was the first mention of Fisk’s name in a negative light that he’d heard all night. It was no wonder he wasn’t very popular there, given how his law firm had attacked the big guy.

“You look bored…” you trailed off, eyes flickering down to the name tag on Matt’s lapel. “...Murdock.”

That wasn’t why you’d come over to him. Okay, maybe it was a little but also because he was a) a stunningly attractive man in a room of viable Jabba the Hutt’s and b) his blazer was just a little too tight for his arms. He’d been meaning to get it taken out a little but man, life was just so busy at the moment.

It took exactly five seconds for your entire being to fill his senses. Faint Coco Chanel and expensive body cream, all of which had clearly been used to mask the smell of tobacco. Expensive tobacco too. The taste of champagne lingered every so slightly on your breath, but not enough to show you’d had that much. He could read you just from that. You smelt like you - or your daddy, most likely - had money and it was clear you weren’t big on drinking. At this event, at least - because what socialite in modern day Manhattan didn’t have a drinking problem?

It was weird how he could tell when people were staring - it was just a sense that their lingering eyes just happened to be in his direction. But even if he was in their line of sight, it was clear they weren’t looking at him. No bets that you were one of the best sights in the room.

Matt was bored. You were bored. And that was where the entire problem began.

The lawyer gave you a smile. “This isn’t really my scene.”

“Oh, please,” you beamed back at him. “It’s not mine either. You should be grateful you can’t see what’s going on right now - it’s like watching hundreds of Rich Uncle Pennybags drag around their discount Pamela Anderson sex dolls.”

Matt let out a derivative snort. Hell, you were funny too.

“I very briefly remember what Pamela Anderson looks like,” he replied. “Even a discounted version of her is arguably still very beautiful, no?”

“Mmm,” you hummed. “I mean…I would.”

“I can only assume based on the way you’re speaking about these established lawyers that you’re not one of them?”

“Absolutely not,” you shot back. “I never got around to passing the bar.”

“So why are you here?”

“My old man’s the district attorney,” you replied. “And I can tell by the way your face just fell that you don’t like him.”

“I don’t not like him-”

“- it’s okay, Murdock,” you cut him off. “Rest assured, I probably hate him more than you.”

“So I’ll ask again,” he raised an eyebrow. “Why are you here?”

“Family obligations,” you rolled your eyes. “But what I wouldn’t give to stop playing happy families and leave this godforsaken hall to drink alcohol that doesn’t taste how my Great Aunt Betty smells.”

Matt normally wouldn’t have accepted your hint, but he was so done with the night already. Daredevil aside, he hadn’t been living a very exciting life the last few weeks. Maybe it was time he did something for himself. Something younger, funnier, and prettier than the woman he would normally find in New York on a Saturday night.

“Are you even old enough to frequent establishments that sell alcohol?”

“Oh, you’re funny,” you huffed. “Old enough by just over two years, but I can assure you I’ve been drinking much longer than that.”

Matt smiled. “Then I might know a place.”

–

All eyes were on you the second you stepped inside Josie’s Bar. Not for the same reason they’d been on you at the last event.

Your outfit alone probably cost more than the yearly rent of this hole. It was a nice hole, though. Nicer than you’d expected. Even if the carpet was sticky on your heels and the air thick with tobacco. At least here you wouldn’t have to hide your own smoking habits.

“What’s your poison?” Matt asked. He kept a hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the bar. Nice.

You glanced at the bar, scanning the shelves for your choice of intoxication.

“I’ll take a double dark rum and coke, please.” you replied - half to Matt, half to the woman behind the bar who you assumed to be Josie.

“Diet coke?” she teased.

“Not necessary- regular is fine,” you replied. “I assume you accept American Express platinum here? I’ll tip as well.”

Josie smiled. “Touche - and for you, Matthew?”

“I’ll take an IPA.”

You smiled, resting a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “I kind of liked just calling you Murdock.”

“I don’t mind if you want to keep doing that,” he replied. “That little play with the AmEx card was cute.”

“Oh yeah?” you quirked an eyebrow. “I’m not gonna let her talk down to me just because I’m not…working class like everyone else in this bar.”

“How long did it take you to come up with a nice word for poor?” he teased. “Didn’t they teach you grammar in private school?”

You ran a hand down his arm, acrylic nails leaving a trail of goosebumps. “You like running your mouth, don’t you, Murdock?”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea.”

Maybe this was unlike him. Actually, maybe it wasn’t unlike. In fact…it was more like him than the everyday Matt Murdock he liked to let in. It felt a little sacreligious that it was a pretty rich girl that brought it out of him - never mind that you were at least ten years younger - but hell, he’d take it. Life was short and he knew how fun the daughters of rich businessmen could be. Elektra Natchios was testament to that and was arguably much less of a good time that you were so far.

You slid his drink towards him. “Better get drinking then, huh?”

–

You tried to outdrink Matt.

Matt tried to outdrink you.

And that was the only explanation as to how you were still at Josie’s by final call. Neither of you were drunk - tipsy at a push - and somehow, you were both walking the line between giving the other your all and still playing hard to get. You’d learnt that Matt was a tease - no doubt a smooth talker in the courtroom - and he could easily keep up with your taunts and jabs.

“I can’t believe we got kicked out!”

You’d stumbled out the bar about two minutes before, arms linked with his to guide him down the street. Matt’s cane was tucked up neatly away now - he could have pretended to still use it, but the way you held onto him and led him down the street did far too much to his senses to deny himself of it. It was a mixture of expensive perfume and rum, and what felt like electricity every time your hand touched his wrist.

“It’s called closing time,” Matt shot back.

“In my world, that’s just a Green Day song,” you said. “You go a few blocks east of here and they’ll stay open as long as you keep paying.”

“We could go a few blocks east - or we could go one block south and go back to my place.”

You grinned. “Lead the way! Wait - oh my god. Was that really mean?”

He chuckled, grabbing your hand and leading you in the opposite direction.

Matt’s apartment was nice - high ceilings and big windows, though sparsely furnished and minimal at the same time. You followed him through to the kitchen, kicking off your heels and sliding into a bar stool beside him. He threw aside his glasses and cane, spinning around to face you.

“So, tell me,” you began. “How does a small-time lawyer like you afford a place like this?”

“I take men like your father to court,” Matt suavely replied - he reached across the counter and yanked over a bottle of scotch, popping off the lid. “Care for some?”

“Mm, Glen Mckenna,” you glanced at the label. “I’m not much of a scotch gal, Murdock. At least scotch that’s only thirty years old.”

“It’s older than you, sweetheart.”

“My age hasn’t been much of a problem the rest of the night,” you shot back.

You unfolded your legs, ever so slightly pushing up your skirt as he did. You knew Matt couldn’t see, but some part of you knew even more that he was picking up on your signals.

That suspicion became something of certainty when he practically threw aside everything on the kitchen counter, large hands grabbing your hips. Within a matter of seconds, as though something had snapped, he had you placed on top of the cool wood, fingers splayed into your sides and mouth just inches away from yours.

“You’re really playing the age card, huh?” his voice was raspy; bare, green eyes dark with lust. “You know nothing.”

You gave him a grin. “So teach me.”

Matthew Murdock’s lips were on yours before you’d even finished your sentence. Not unlike his hands, they were thick and calloused, bringing a thousand senses over you at once. He was clearly an experienced kisser - and a giving one too. Worlds away from the immature frat boys you’d spent the last few years gallivanting about with.

He was right -you did know nothing.

But that was just it, right? Matt was older than you - ten years, fifteen at the most. You’d slept around here and there but hell, nothing had been like this. Two minutes into whatever the fuck you were about to do and Matt had you shaking, cocky demanour gone; hands tangled in his hair and cunt begging, craving for a man you’d never even had before.

Matt’s teeth tugged on your lower lip and you knew then you’d completely lost your mind. The moan that escaped your mouth only lulled him on, hands squeezing your hips even harder and pulling you closer towards him.

You felt it then, pressed against your lower stomach. He was hard as fuck.

“Stop teasing,” you grumbled.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Matt hissed.

Still, he obliged. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pulled you off the counter, carrying you over to the sofa. He held you with only one arm, free hand tangled in your hair and holding your lips on his.

You both fell onto the couch, clothes flying everywhere. It didn’t matter how expensive your stupid vintage Chanel was then- it looked much better on his floor than it had ever had done on you. Matt’s shirt and pants followed suit, landing before yours in a crumpled pile.

“You in some kinda fight club or something?” you paused, tangling your hand in Matt’s hair and pulling him back. Your free one followed down his torso, fingers ghosting across the pink ridges on his abs. No complaints here.

“Less talking, sweetheart,” he brushed aside your comment. “=

“Who put you in charge?”

“Me,” his words were muffled, barely audible as he attached his lips to your neck. “You gonna do as I say?”

“Or what?”

“It wasn’t a question.”

Matt’s lips were quickly replaced by a calloused hand on your throat. He gave it a light squeeze, a wicked smile spreading across his face when your wise demeanor was suddenly gone. He pressed another kiss to your neck, then another, following up to your ear.

“If it gets too much, you say - okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you replied. “I promise I can take it.”

Another kiss, this time on the lips. “Good girl.”

You let out a whimper, brain not entirely sure what to focus on as Matt’s hands went to work. He kept one on your throat, squeezing it just enough to earn a moan out of you, the other creeping up your thighs and gently slipping inside you. That caught you by surprise - how gentle he was, and yet completely the opposite at the same time.

Matt pushed you down into the cushions, hand still gripping your throat. His fingers curled inside you - back and forth, back and forth. A steady beat that hit the right spot over and over and over. Ecstasy took over your body like a rush, senses consumed by nothing but him.

“Matt,” you murmured. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me, darling,” his voice was still gruff, holding some type of contagious venom at you for distracting him. “I’m getting plenty from this.”

And he was. He was getting everything. The quickening pace of your heart, the smell of you, the tiny moans and whimpers that escaped your mouth every time he so much as moved. It was exultation for him as well - and almost completely sinful, the way it made him feel. Not that he gave a fuck about any religious figure in that moment. The man was willing to spend an eternity repenting his sins if it meant just one night with you.

You came quicker than you ever had with anyone - better than you ever had with anyone. It rushed over your body like a fountain of cold water, ripping from your stomach and up to your already-dysfunctional brain like the sharp drop of a rollercoaster. Falling, falling, falling, until Matt’s hands grabbed you and grounded, softly caressing your face, holding your jaw as you cried out his name.

“You want to stop?” he gently asked.

“No,” you sharply sat up, scowling. “Didn’t I say that I would tell you-”

“- careful with your tone, sweetheart.”

Matt grabbed you by the hips again, pulling you down into the sofa. The next few moments were unbearable in the best way - a blur of teeth on your neck, chest, stomach and thighs, barely even registering what was going on until you felt his tongue swipe over your folds. A cry escaped your mouth, still overstimulated from your last orgasm.

“If you want something,” Matt popped his head up, shit-eating grin across his stupidly gorgeous face, “you should just say.”

“Stop fucking teasing.”

He moved back up towards you, brushing his lips against yours. “You make it so easy.”

With that, Matt placed his hands on your ass and hoisted you into his lap. He gave it one final slap before grabbing his dick and maneuvering into inside you - you couldn’t help but let out a moan of relief, dropping your head into his shoulder and gently biting his skin.

“Didn’t take you for a biter,” he chuckled. Running a hand up your back, he dusted across your shoulder, large fingers finding place on your jaw. “Move.”

And move you did.

It was heaven the way he felt inside you - his fingers had been one thing but this was incomparable. You didn’t give a fuck about a stranger’s neighbours at the best of times, but you had absolutely no respect in that moment for anyone belove or below (in more than one sense). You were loud and Matt fucking loved it. He couldn’t see you - couldn’t see your glazed over eyes or freshly bruised and bitten skin - but hell, you filled his other senses enough to make up for that.

You kind of knew the minute you met that he had a big dick. It was in the way he held himself: confident, but humble. Funny, but in an unassuming way. And it hit just the right spot, repeatedly edging the same spot that his fingers had tired out just moments before.

It went on for a few more minutes; you were completely lost in one another, brains barely able to comprehend that you’d known each other less than twelve hours.

You didn’t need to tell Matt that you were - he knew, and rather than slowing it down so that you could revel in the last few moments, he picked up the pace; hand tightening on your throat, other squeezing your ass in a way that was sure to leave a mark in the morning.

Your second orgasm was indescribable - you opened your mouth to let out a yell and yet, it was silent. Your acrylics clawed up and down Matt’s back, digging into him in an attempt to ground yourself. That only egged him on, the sting adding to his euphoria as he came undone inside you.

Matt laid you back down on the couch, pressing kisses to your jaw as he did. You frowned when he began shuffling about - then he produced his shirt from the floor. He maneuvered your arms so that he could pull it over your head, before reaching for a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapping it around your middle.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured. “I’m gonna go get you a cloth. Don’t move.”

“I’m never moving,” you softly chuckled.

He smiled. “Good.”

#matt murdock x fem! reader #daredevil x fem! reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock smut #matt murdock angst #daredevil x reader #daredevil smut #daredevil imagine #daredevil imagines #daredevil x you #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil x y/n #daredevil #matt murdock

430 notes · View notes

jaggedamethyst · 2 months ago

Text

nsfw matt murdock head canons

matt murdock is a freak fest and im ready to join in even if the crowd is embarassingly slim...like those concerts with like four people in the crowd

18+ under the cut, not proofread, smut obviously, maybe some plot and fluff...idk I write these before the head canons are done...enjoy

requests!

matt murdock is no stranger to getting his ass beat...handed to him every night and relishing the pain. at first, he'd wince, knowing he had to see you and be this vulnerable...that you would reprimand him for being so careless...that you would have to bare witness to him being hurt. he didn't want you to see him this way...to worry you. but the one time he showed up and recognized an uptick in your heart rate, the way sweat started to form at your hairline, how your fingertips shook...he couldn't help but pull his punches a bit. you liked the blood, liked him in his brutalized form as much as you tried not to. he could tell it turned you on and he took advantage of that the next time he had you alone. he'd slide into you slowly, almost forcing you to hold onto his back for leverage. you'd get a good feel of his skin...the way scars completely covered him. he'd smile to himself, knowing you accepted him despite his tendency to seek out trouble.

matt did a lot to annoy you but the nightly patrols were undoubtedly the worst. it started to piss you off, the blantant disregard for his own health and safety. it nagged at you so much that you'd randomly decided to leave his place and head to your own while he was out one night. he'd know, of course. the usual sound of you pattering no longer in his ears, the warm silhouette no longer igniting his senses. he'd meet you at your place, sliding into a window before you got to the front door. he'd have you against the nearest wall before you could even process his presence, kissing your neck and asking you to come home...begging you to do so. you'd lift a leg as he slid his fingers into you, ignoring the tightness of your walls. he'd have you unraveling, a little chant and repetition of the word yes tumbling from your lips over and over. he could tell you hated him sometimes but loved him enough right now to come back to him. your nods were of pleasure, but also an affirmation of his request. you'd come home...you always would...especially with fingers like his.

matt loved to cook, his favorite time to play chef was when you were asleep. he was quite fond of the way you registered the scent before you even woke up, loving the way your nostrils flared a few times just before your eyes fluttered open. you'd always crack a smile, too, itching your way to your feet and into the kitchen to see what matt had thrown together. the domesticity was his favorite thing, the best way to let himself be happy before the darkness of the night...before he had to let him out. everything about your and matt's movement would be slow, lazy even. it was often that you'd eye the food, agreeing that it would just get cold if you kept fooling around the way you would...but neither of you could care enough. he'd have you over the counter eventually, the sounds of your skin slapping together filling the space. the breakfast would be long forgotten, matt now fully in tune with your new reactions. it was slow and sweet, matt kissing over the spots he'd just bit into...soothing your heating skin as he continued to tear you apart. he knew you liked it this way, slow and intimate...so he'd give you that. the curl of your toes, your panting breath, and the way your focus seemed to completely disappear enraptured him. it was absolutely worth the cold breakfast.

#jaggedamethyst #drabble 🖊️#smut #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x you #matt murdock smut #daredevil

299 notes · View notes

cyripticchronicler · 9 months ago

Note

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

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.

814 notes · View notes

eveysnotebook · 4 months ago

Text

pretty baby blues

matt murdock x reader imagine thingy

Matt rarely took his sunglasses off when he wasn’t alone, even in the office with foggy and karen they remained on.

they were like a barrier, a shield, hiding himself from the world.

that is until you start dating. he comes over to your house often, taking off the dark glasses immediately.

he trusts you, he loves you. and you love him. his eyes are gorgeous and seem to light up at night, shiny reflections in the morning.

you often find yourself staring in awe at his eyes, the light blues mixing together to create a beautiful color.

his eyes, beautiful and unfocused ♡

omg this was kinda cheesy but whatever

also it’s based off of chip zdarskys matt which has really pretty light blue eyes, check out his comics!

stay hydrated 🧡

#eveys writing #not proofread #matt murdock #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock hc #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock headcanon #matt murdock x you #daredevil

149 notes · View notes

halfway-happyyy · 5 months ago

Text

It'll All Work Out

summary: you are casually involved with a one Mister frank castle, but still have unfinished business with one of his biggest adversaries, matt murdock. angst and soft feelings ensue.

warnings: brief mentions of violence

pairings: frank castle x reader, matt murdock x reader

You awaken in the morning hush to the familiar sounds of the city coming to life around you. Millions of dust particles dance and shift in a ray of 5 AM light from the crack in your curtains. A warm weight shifts next to you, and an impossibly toned arm circles your torso ever tighter. For some inexplicable reason before you turn, you half expect to find a shock of unruly umber hair and ruddy, stubbled cheeks beneath a pair of gorgeous hazel eyes.

And then, a barely noticeable smile lifts Frank Castle’s lips skyward, and you’re back where you’re supposed to be, as if you’d never left at all.

“Mornin’,” He murmurs and lifts the back of your hand to his lips, brushing it softly.

“Morning, Frank.” You kean into his touch, craving more of it always, as if enough of it will make you forget the way that he felt beneath you.

Frank traces a deliberate fingertip down the bridge of your nose, his molten bronze eyes alert and shining brightly in the inky light of dawn. “Last night was nice.” He offers.

And he’s not lying.

You can still feel the scorching heat from his fingertips on every inch of your body; an inexplicably satisfying ache still exists at the apex of your thighs from being stretched a little too fully by him… “Every time with you is nice.” You take cover from his gaze in the hollow warmth of his neck. The low reverberation of his chuckle against the top of your head causes a tremble to wrack your body, and his hold on you tightens involuntarily.

When you’re close like this- when there’s no telling where either of you end or begin, it’s entirely too easy to lose yourself in all of it. Your home has been a safe space the last six months. There are no cuts to be patched up, no ghosts in the shadows, no goodbyes.

No Matthew.

“You’re a million miles away.”

His gravelly tone is teasing, but there is a hint of something else beneath it that causes tidal waves of guilt to ebb away at you and you swallow thickly before answering- “I’m right here.” It’s as much a reassurance for him as it is for you.

A sudden vibration pierces the imminent stillness of your bedroom, the sound of it foreign and unfamiliar, and you frown against the jut of Frank’s collarbone. “Who’s even up at this hour?” His voice is thick with the weight of recent sleep.

The ringing stops, and you think with relief, that it’s the end of that, but less than a minute later, it starts again and you groan in unconcealed frustration.

“Whoever it is needs you.”

Turning in Frank’s embrace, you reach for the phone on your bedside table and blanch at the name flashing across the screen.

MM.

Frank recoils against you; it’s so quiet in the bedroom that you can hear the particular hitch of his breath as it catches in his throat. He doesn’t have to ask what MM stands for. “Better answer it, sweetheart.” His tone is frigid, touching dangerously close to full-on hostility. He presses a final, chaste kiss to the rounded curve of your bare shoulder, lifts the duvet from his body and swings his legs over the side of your bed.

You watch the muscles in his toned back ripple and flex as he bends down to retrieve the pieces of his clothing abandoned in the searing heat of passion the night before.

“Frank, I don’t want you to go.” And it's God's honest truth.

A melancholy laugh exits his mouth in the form of a huff, as he shrugs his shoulders. “I’d be lying if I said I wanted to leave, sweetheart.”

So stay…

“He’s never stopped loving you.” His voice was a wine glass on the precipice of shattering entirely. “And maybe I was on my way there, too.”

God, this was never part of the plan.

Frank clears his throat, trying in vain to rid his voice of emotion. “I’m confident in my feelings for you. Have been from the moment you poured me that damn cup of coffee,” The creases next to his eyes deepen as he revisits the memory. “But the fact of the matter is that he beat me to it. And as nice as the last six months have been, there are three of us in this bedroom and it’s getting a bit crowded.” Where you expected his gaze to be angry or accusatory, it’s anything but.

Tears prickle threateningly behind your eyes as you hug your arms tighter to your frame. “I’m sorry, Frank.”

He’s fully dressed now and standing at your window, his hulking figure silhouetted by the breaking morning light is a sight for sore eyes. He shrugs after a while. “He needs you.”

And what about you? You want to ask. Don’t you need me to?

But it’s Frank Castle. And he hasn’t really needed anyone for a long time- at least not the way that most people do.

So, he gathers you in his arms for a final time, presses his lips to your forehead, and takes his leave to go. But before he vanishes from sight completely, he hesitates on the landing of your stairway and turns back to you, his penetrating gaze still just as dazzling as ever. “Right person, wrong time.”

Right person, wrong time.

From where you are, you hear the sound of your front door opening, but miss the sound of it closing. Instead, an indecipherable noise emanates from Frank, followed by a humorless laugh. “Well, this is rich.”

Your heart skips a beat as you throw on an old shirt and take the stairs two at a time. At the bottom, you’re met with a scene that’s still difficult to piece together. Matt is hunched up against the side of your house, beaten and bruised from what looks like a brutal fight. Taking inventory of the damage, you notice a violet bruise blooming beneath his left eye, a shallow cut on his cheek seeps crimson blood, and he’s favouring his ribs.

“You always were a little too good at taking a beating, Murdock.” Frank spits.

Matt shifts, wincing from the pain. “If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy.”

“This isn’t funny, Matt.”

He won’t look at you. Not yet.

“Do you need a hospital?” Frank asks, finally.

Matt shakes his head. “Just rest.”

And it’s the look that Frank leaves you with as he climbs onto the back of his motorcycle; he needs you. He disappears at the end of your street and you find yourself missing his strong, protective reassurance almost immediately.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Matt’s voice is hoarse, and causes goosebumps in waves on your arms.

“And yet somehow, you always manage to.” You sigh and slide down the wall next to him. Taking his hand in yours, you’re shocked at how cold it is and you turn to him, concerned. “How long have you been out here?”

Matt clears his throat. “A couple of hours, give or take.”

“You can’t keep doing this, Matt.” Your statement is quiet, almost lost to the white noise of the city around you. “It’s just too painful.”

His unseeing gaze is focused on something ahead when a single tear cascades down the front of his cut cheek. It’s an unfamiliar sight; in the many years that you had known him, he’d only let himself cry once or twice. Placing an arm around him, you pull him to you and hold him as tightly as he allows you. When a light rain begins to fall, you tell him it’s time to go in.

He reluctantly gets up, groaning in pain as he follows you back into your house. While the bathtub is filling, you get to work searching for the proper supplies to start patching him up.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” You ask, and take a step between his parted thighs. “Or shall I rely on my imagination?”

He gazes up in the direction of your voice, and you can not help but lose yourself in his beautiful hazel eyes. “Lately, I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat,” His voice is low and raw with emotion. “And I worry because I don’t feel anything. I just don’t feel anything.”

His eyes close and you feel your heart splinter.

Ripping open an alcohol swab, you take the back of his head in your hands and warn him that what you’re about to do will sting. You pass it over the cut on his cheek and he flinches against you, his body rigid with discomfort.

“I get worried that I’ll stop feeling everything one day.” He grunts.

So, under the cover of darkness you become the devil of hell’s kitchen and start fights you’re not always sure you’ll win.

“A valid fear,” You agree. “You did feel that, though.” You gesture to his cheek, and he only frowns in reply.

Matt clears his throat, his expression suddenly earnest. “Frank-” You shake your head, your heart twinging at the sound of his name out of Matt’s mouth. The rest of the words fizzle and fade in his throat.

“Stand up.” You instruct, quietly. And he does as he’s told. You take the hem of his shirt in your hands and carefully lift it up over his head. “Jesus Matthew…” You release a pent-up breath as you notice the smattering of fresh bruises that decorate his upper body like a warzone. He recoils when you pass a delicate fingertip over a particularly dark spot.

“It’s not as bad as it looks, kid…”

The sound of your nickname makes you falter. It had been years since you’d last heard it, and where it should have incited immediate frustration, you are surprised to find you’d missed it. Next to go are his pants, which pool on the floor around his feet. Stepping out of them, he shimmies the black boxers from his body and steps into the all-encompassing comfort of the steaming bath.

Turning to make your exit, a fragile noise rips from the hollow of his throat before he asks if you’ll stay. After a couple of minutes of silent deliberation, you nod your head and take a seat on a stool next to the bath.

Matt sits in silence for a while, the only other noise in the room is the subtle pitter-patter of rain on the skylight above you. Scars of varying degrees of seriousness decorate the expansive planes of his alabaster chest, and it’s all you can do to keep from reaching out and tracing them. When enough time has passed, you fill a jug from beneath the sink with warm water and pour it over Matt’s head. Pouring a dollop of shampoo onto his head, you work the mixture into a lather in his hair and rinse that out as well. When you’re finished rinsing out the conditioner, he stands up for you in preparation of the body wash. You watch, wide-eyed as water drops race themselves in misshapen lines down the length of his lithe body, and your mouth goes dry at the sight of it all. Taking the soapy sea sponge in your hands, you make quick work of his entire body.

“Feels good,” He murmurs when you’ve poured the final jug of warm water over him.

While he finishes up in the washroom, you make quick work of changing over your bed. He wanders in a little while later, his hair still slightly damp despite him toweling off. Lifting the corner of your weighted duvet, he sidles in next to you, and all of it is almost painfully familiar; like he’d been here all along, like he’d never even left at all.

You both are nose-to-nose now. Every scar, every fleck of green suspended in a sea of hazel is on display for you, and any resolve you might have had before fades entirely. “I did mean what I said earlier, Matt.”

He reaches a warm palm up to caress your cheek.

“You pick and choose when it’s convenient for you to let me in and I just… I can’t keep doing it. You’re breaking my heart.” A single tear slips from the corner of your eye, and he doesn’t see it- cannot see it, but his thumb catches it and brushes it away.

He’s never stopped loving you.

“You’re it for me, kid. I’ll never leave you again.” He doesn’t say what you both know is true; that he’ll never stop doing what he does to protect the city he cherishes so deeply, but there is a truth to those pretty words that simply wasn’t there before. “That is, if you’ll have me.”

You capture his lips in a kiss that might as well be the last one you’ll ever have, and when you eventually pull away, you’re both breathing hard. Wordlessly, you guide his hand to the spot above your rib cage where your heart beats a slow, steady rhythm.

“I love you, Matthew.”

I love you, I love you, I love you

#oh boy here we go #matt murdock #matthew murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #matt murdock imagines #daredevil #daredevil born again #oneshot #writing #drabble #ddba #the punisher

150 notes · View notes

taylormarieee · 9 days ago

Text

~Back to friends~

A matt murdock drabble

summary: you and matt had a rough breakup in college, but you never stopped loving each other. can you guys go back to being friends?

word count: 1.8k

pairings: matt murdock x ex!girlfriend!reader

warnings: slight angst, flashbacks, matt being a sweetheart and heartbroken all at once, reader being heartbroken, kisses if you squint, fluff, brief mention of death, that should be it!

a/n: hey guys i know he's not in my masterlist but i saw an edit with this song and the idea just popped up in my head so i had to write it! hope you guys like it, plus my fixation on charlie cox is growing back after ddba. lowercase intended.

The years of college are kind of a blur for you. memories with matt and foggy settling in. they were your happy place and now you barely see them at all.

things got pretty bad after you broke up with matt. you went to therapy, you were diagnosed with depression, you lost your grandma and she was your rock, the glue that kept you together.

it was as if breaking up with matt brought bad luck into your life. matt was the joy and the light at the end of your tunnel that you just knew would be there.

matt gave you hope even when he barely had any for himself. but after being with him for three years and he kept such a secret from you... such a dark secret. you couldn't forgive it in that moment.

the guilt and the distrust you felt that night watching the devil of hells kitchen -- matt-- waltz into your shared apartment and stand in front of you? the feeling of knowing that he felt as though he couldn't trust you enough to keep this secret.

you wondered if he had told foggy or even karen. you cried that night. some words were said that night, ones that were unforgivable.

you regret ever getting up out of bed that night. you regret ever yelling at him that night. you regret it all. because the look of hurt on your face could never match matt's.

you hated yourself for leaving the way you did. with just a note. deep down you still love matt with every fucking bone in your body. you miss him so much it hurts like hell.

three weeks after finding out matt was daredevil. he called you and left you messages. he wanted to talk so you went and talked to him. you wanted him to know that you still loved him and that you didn't hate him.

flashback. Three weeks after the break up...

"hey matty." you walk up, hands in your coat pocket as you stand in front of his sitting figure.

he smiles, reminiscing in the times you used to call him that with a different tone, a tone of love and admiration. now it's just casual.

"hey, would you like to sit down?" he asks as he fold his stick and rests it on his lap.

you smile and sit down next to him, you can feel the heat radiating off matt. you wonder if he can feel how nervous you are.

"h-how have you been these days?" you ask trying to start small and light conversation.

he takes of his glasses to reveal red eyes and eye bags. you gasp. "well i've had better days that's for sure." he chuckles before putting his head down and glasses back on.

as if by instinct you grab his face and turn it towards yours. "matt... are you okay? when's the last time you've slept, or eaten?" you ask concerned as your fingers brush his cheeck in a soothing motion.

he closes his eyes relishing in the action and leans his head into your hand.

he was so scared to take a breath, he didn't want you to move your hand. he didn't want you to leave him in the vulnerable moment.

he finally speaks, "i've eaten. sleep is what hasn't been good. can't sleep without you." he mumbles.

you fight back the tears of seeing matt like this... your matt.

"matty, what did you want to talk about?"

he sighs as he fixes himself. "can we start over? please? i need you in my life." he expresses.

"matty... how could we possibly go back to being friends? three weeks ago we were sharing a bed together and now? i don't even recognize you."

"how can you say that? how can you look at me and pretend i'm someone you've never met?! It's like one minute your laying on my chest in my arms and now your gone."

"would you like me to bring back up the fact that your the devil of hells kitchen?!" you confront in a whispered yell.

"that night matt... the devil was in your eyes, and trust me the devil himself can't deny the lies you've sold. the lie's you've sold to me and foggy and fuck matt, even karen." you express, your voice cracking before leaning away from matt.

"i'm sorry and you know that. i can't express it enough. I love you. your the one that keeps me going, your the reason i was able to graduate and without you i'm nothing. i'm nothing! foggy has karen and then there's me! who do I have!?"

"you still have me matt..."

"not the way i used too."

his words break you. you missed him so much. and it's clear he missed you. he just wants your forgivness.

"i forgive you matt. I forgive you forever. I miss you and just know, im not mad anymore. I love you and i always will matt. did you keep a secret from me? yes you did, for three years but without you i'm nothing. without you i have no joy in my life. so matt, you do have someone... you have me. and you always will. thats a promise."

And that was it. That was two months ago. now you and matt were stronger than ever. you guys were such good friends. you quit working at your last law firm to start working with matt, foggy, and karen again.

god, the look on their faces when you came back was precious. you wish you could snap moments like that in a polaroid and keep them forever.

"so, you and matt are friends again?" foggy asks.

"yea, yea we are. and it's never been better." you respond with a smile.

"gosh it reminds me of old times." foggy sighs out with the wildest grin on his face. "minus the moaning and late nights being kept out of my dorm." he adds with a chuckle.

you gasp and karen bursts out laughing as you push foggy out his chair.

"oh shut up foggy." you laugh out shaking your head. you hear a faint chuckle in the other room and you know it's matt.

separated from the group to work on cases on their break vs hanging out and letting himself be free.

you get up and walk into his office while the faint voices of karen and foggy continue into a different conversation.

you knock on the open door and peek your head in. "matty?" you speak out before being met with a 'come in'.

"i heard you laughing. how come you aren't sitting with us?" you ask.

he smiles before opening his mouth to speak before you quickly cut him off as if already knowing what he's gonna say.

"and don't give me the bullshit matt about how you need to work on cases, they can wait." you say with a smirk on your face.

a smirk that matt knows is there. "fine, you caught me. I was just thinking about stuff. foggy's comment brought back old memories." he says with a chuckle.

"good memories. memories of us at our happiest, i know." you say with a smile as you step closer to matt who's now standing. he reaches for your hand and you give it.

he looks down and smiles.

"what? what iis it? why are you so smiley Mr. Murdock?" you asks with a chuckle.

"nothing, it's just... i'm glad I get to be with you everyday again. like old times. you've made in here brighter, I can feel it." he says.

you smile and caress his face with your cheek. he slowly puts his hands around your waist as if to make sure that this move is okay and when you wrap your arms around his neck, he's all giddy like a puppy.

he smiles and he can't control it, your heart skips a beat at his smile and you tilt your head. "what matty?" you ask a smile now adorning your face.

"nothing it just- it feels like old times." he says rocking you from side to side slowly and gently.

you hum and lay your head on his shoulder. "yea, just like old times." you both stand there for a while just rocking back and forth with each other while enjoying the presence of one another.

you are the first one to speak to break the silence. "i should probably get back to karen and foggy." he lifts his eyebrows as if almost forgetting they were here. almost forgetting.

"oh uh, yea sure. I gotta get back to this thing anyway so..." he trails off.

he may think you don't know, but you do. you can tell. matt didn't want to let you go. he didn't want to have you leave him again.

and frankly, you didn't want to leave his side either. but you wanted to go finish enjoying your lunch break before a new client came in.

"matty... i know what your thinking so stop thinking it. join us. join me."

he sighs and looks towards your direction now. he opens his mouth as if to speak but then hesitates for a moment. he looks back down as if thinking of doing something but not quite doing it yet.

he then walks up to you, grabs your face and kisses you. you halt for s moment before melting into him, into his warmth. god how you've always loved how warm matt was.

you kiss him back with intensity. not lust, but longing. the passion of missing him seeping into your kiss as tears drop down your face wetting matt's cheeks.

you kiss him like you miss him, because you have missed matt. you finally break the kiss to catch a breath and revel in the afterbliss.

you hear faint gasps from behind you and you turn around to see foggy and karen watching but just as quick as you saw them, they have quickly scurried off back to their seats.

you chuckle and put your head down. "i'll uhm, get going now. don't wanna distract you from your work. you can have my left overs matt, i'll go buy some more food for you and me." you speak out as you back out of his door.

you accidentally ram your back into the wall instead earning a chuckle from matt.

"did you just-"

"nope, i'll be on my way now! bye!" you interrupt as you quickly speed walk out of the office but not before reading foggy's lip say 'you will be talking later.'

you roll your eyes and close the door behind you. you stand there for a second, smile, and leave walking to your car.

you were glad you and matt were back to being friends.

Taglist:@dollyfl1rt@itzdarling@sammyluvr@liliesdiary@ribbonprincess@bellahadidnt16 @iilovefictionalpeople @aerangi@keiva1000 @madafton @niktwazny303 @prettyluhdavis @kqmbr1a @nuemanfilms + anyone else who wants to join

a/n: yes this fic is based off a sombr song called "back to friends."

#smut #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil x reader #daredevil #matthew murdock #female reader x matt murdock #matt murdock fic #matt murdock #matt murdock imagines

57 notes · View notes

l0vergirlwrites · 6 months ago

Text

✭ matthew murdock ✭

let me see you | matthew murdock x fem!reader (angst/fluff)

dancing in the street | matthew murdock x fem!reader (fluff)

intimacy | matthew murdock x fem!reader (fluff/comfort)

night in | matthew murdock x fem!reader (angst/comfort)

matthew murdock x gn!reader blurb

matthew murdock x musiciangirlfriend!reader headcanons

love & back rubs | matthew murdock x reader (angst/fluff)

overwhelmed | matthew murdock x fem!reader (angst/comfort)

shopping | matthew murdock x fem!reader (fluff/suggestive)

valentine | matthew murdock x fem!reader (fluff)

no pressure | matthew murdock x fem!reader (suggestive/angst/fluff)

exam stress | college!matthewmurdock x femstudent!reader (fluff)

you’re losing me | matthew murdock x fem!reader (angst)

wanna feel guilty | matthew murdock x fem!reader (angst)

#l0vergirlwrites💌#matthew murdock #matt murdock #matthew murdock angst #matthew murdock daredevil #matthew murdock oneshot #matthew murdock imagines #matthew murdock x reader #matthew murdock x you #matthew murdock fanfic #mcu daredevil #netflix daredevil #daredevil #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock mcu #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock blurb #charlie cox

122 notes · View notes

writingdumpster · 2 years ago

Text

first impressions

pairing: Matt Murdock x reader (no pronouns used)

warnings: none I think

summary: i wrote this purely bc i know matt murdock is excellent at meeting people’s mothers. after impressing your parents matt gets to thinking about his future.

word count: 1.6k

“I’m nervous.” You sat next to Matt in the restaurant he had chosen for the evening. It was fancy. There was a pianist in one corner of the room and linen tablecloths. It was nicer than the hole-in-the-wall joints that you and Matt usually preferred. He wanted to impress your parents though, so he had made a reservation at a swanky restaurant in midtown Manhattan.

Matt was in his court suit and you had donned the blue silk dress he bought for your anniversary. It was by far your favorite dress. Beyond being a treasured gift, it fit you perfectly and the fabric always felt soft against your skin. Karen had helped Matt pick it out, but she had told you that all she did was describe the dresses and that he had completely ignored her opinions. She had strongly recommended a yellow dress but he had refused her suggestions, insisting you would like the one he picked better. Never having seen the yellow one, you knew he was right. If he picked it, you loved it. You would have him choose between options you put out when you got dressed in the mornings by describing them to him and he always had you match his tie to the rest of his outfit.

“It’s going to be fine,” Matt said and kissed your temple.

“I only ever introduced Caleb to my parents,” you told him, not that you hadn’t said it before. Matt knew that Caleb was not someone you had pleasant memories of. He had heard the stories from you and he was the one who helped you get over many of the fears that Caleb had struck into you. Matt was remembering those stories while he heard in your heartbeat how nervous you were.

“You know I’m not like Caleb,” Matt reminded you.

“I know, Matt. I just…this is a big deal for me,” you said.

“It’s a big deal for me too, sweetheart,” Matt told you. “It’s just an exciting big deal for me.” You inhaled deeply. Matt smiled. “You have nothing to worry about. Moms always like me, angel. It’ll be great,” he assured you.

“All women like you,” you said. Matt laughed lightly.

“Then that will include your mom, won’t it?” He asked rhetorically. He gave you a light peck as he tangled his fingers with yours beneath the table. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he cooed. You sighed.

“You’re right. I know they’re going to love you. I just…” You hesitated.

“Caleb was a mistake and you think it’s bad luck,” Matt said, always knowing what you were thinking.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“This isn’t a mistake, sweetheart. I promise. It’s just the next step,” he told you. You nodded and Matt gave your hand a squeeze. You looked up at the doorway to the restaurant.

“They’re here,” you said. You rose from the table and greeted your mom and dad with hugs. Matt was standing by your side with a charming smile across his face.

“Hello, Mrs. y/l/n,” Matt greeted with a smile. Your mom held her arms out to Matt and pulled him into a hug. He returned it kindly.

“Oh, please, call me y/m/n,” your mom said. “Y/N has told us so much about you. I think we can be on a first name basis,” your mom said. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as your mom told Matt how you spoke about him. Matt simply turned to you and smiled. He loved that you told your parents about him. He wished he could tell his dad all about you. Your father held out his hand for Matt to shake. Matt stayed still, not wanting to give up his powers. You took Matt’s hand and pulled it to where your father’s hand was waiting.

“Oh, sorry about that,” your dad said in embarrassment as he shook Matt’s hand. Matt chuckled lightly.

“That’s alright, sir. Took y/n months to stop answering me with nods,” Matt joked.

“It was not months,” you said sharply.

“You still do it sometimes,” Matt teased. You pursed your lips, biting back the comment about how you knew he could tell. The four of you sat down, Matt pulling out your mother’s chair for her before doing the same for you and taking his seat.

Matt was right about mothers loving him. He charmed your mom with his dry sense of humor and enchanting smile. He won your dad’s approval when he mentioned he owned his own law firm. Your father didn’t need to know that Nelson and Murdock was nearly always on the edge of bankruptcy. Your parents told Matt stories about you from your childhood, despite your protests that they were too embarrassing. Matt loved the stories. All he could do was smile at you. The night was perfect. Matt was perfect. Your father refused Matt’s attempt to pay for the meal before the four of you left. You said your goodbyes in front of the restaurant before getting into different cabs and going back home. Matt’s hand was resting innocently on your leg while the two of you sat in the back of the cab.

“I told you it was going to be fine,” Matt teased you. You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, you were right, Murdock,” you agreed. Matt chuckled.

“Doesn’t happen that often. I have to brag when it does,” he said. The cab pulled up outside of your apartment and the two of you got out. You made your way up the stairs and walked through the sliding door. The glow of the billboard outside of your window was blue. A new advertiser had taken over a few weeks earlier and the red light that usually filled the room had been replaced with a blue light, making it seem like your apartment was bathed in moonlight. You were looking through the mail that you had collected on your way up.

You realized you didn’t know where Matt went when music started playing. You smiled to yourself as you tossed away the junk mail. Suddenly you felt hands on your hips as Matt pulled you away from the counter. He spun you around and moved one of his hands to the small of your back. The other went to cup your hand in his. You giggled before moving to wrap your free arm around his shoulders, fingers tangling in the hairs at the nape of his neck as the two of you began swaying back and forth. Matt loosened his hold on your waist and moved to let you spin beneath his arm before pulling you back into his body and dipping you.

When Matt pulled you back upright you leaned up on your toes to press a kiss to his lips. Matt smiled against your lips. You stared into his eyes when you leaned away. His eyes were so beautiful. You never cared that his eyes didn’t see you the way yours saw him. He saw you in so many other ways.

“You really impressed them,” you said as you leaned closer to Matt, tucking your head against his neck.

“I told you moms like me,” Matt said.

“My dad liked you too though,” you said.

“Yeah,” Matt agreed. “We just can’t let him visit my office. He won’t be impressed anymore.” You chuckled.

“I certainly hope he won’t ever need a lawyer,” you said.

“If you hadn’t needed a lawyer we never would have met,” Matt reminded you.

“Yes, and that worked out very well,” you agreed. “But when we tell our kids how we met I think we should make something up.” Matt beamed.

“Our kids?” He asked. Your heart dropped for a moment and your face went blank.

“I mean, umm…” You started stuttering.

“We’ll have to get married first,” Matt interjected before you could start backpedaling. Your panic turned to excitement. You grinned.

“You obviously have my parents' approval now,” you said. Matt smiled.

“And you’ve certainly gotten Foggy’s approval,” Matt replied.

“Foggy likes me better than you,” you said with a laugh.

“Yes, I know,” Matt said flatly. “He’s very clear about that.” You held back your giggles.

“If you came into the office with cookies instead of bruises like me he might like you more,” you joked.

“I do bring in cookies,” he grumbled.

“Yes, but Foggy knows I made them,” you said. Matt sighed.

“He wouldn’t like me at all if I brought in cookies that I made,” he said. You giggled at the memory of Matt trying to make your birthday cake and causing the building to evacuate after setting off the smoke alarm.

“When we have kids I bet he’ll like them better than both of us,” you said. Matt smiled.

“That’s alright. We can use him as a babysitter that way,” he said.

“Maybe if Karen’s there too,” you said. Matt chuckled.

“You don’t trust Foggy with our kids?” He asked.

“Matty, you have told me far too many stories about you dragging Foggy back to your dorm after a frat party for me to trust Foggy with our kids,” you said. “He will most certainly let one of them do something stupid.”

“And you think I won’t?” Matt asked.

“You won’t let them do something stupid, you’ll do it for them,” you said. Matt spun you around in his arms once more as the song came to an end. He kissed your forehead when he pulled you back against him. Matt’s heart was full at the way the two of you were so casually talking about your kids. He hoped it wouldn’t be long till they were real. He knew what he wanted. He didn’t want to wait for it anymore. There wasn’t anything stopping him now.

“You want to go ring shopping tomorrow?”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock x gn!reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader fluff #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock imagines #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagine #charlie cox x reader

514 notes · View notes

farfromstrange · 2 years ago

Text

Is It Over Now? | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader ; (hinted) Frank Castle x Reader ; Elektra Natchios x Matt Murdock

Summary: Matt cheated on you, and you are trying to navigate through it.

Warnings: Angst, no happy ending, break-up, mention of cheating, song references (Taylor Swift), inspired by 'Is It Over Now?', (some) Matt "slander", (somewhat) suicidal thoughts, alcohol consumptions, hint at smut

Word Count: 1.7k

A/n: 1989 TV came out and I am losing my shit. Is It Over Now? Is my new favorite song and I just had a brain fart that made this. You can read this if you're a Swiftie and catch the references or just read it without listening to the song. It works either way.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

To be fair, there was a time when you thought it would never end. The thought of ever having a last kiss with him would have killed you back then.

He told you that you were the love of his life. You believed him. He was yours, certainly. You can’t deny that.

You were happy, you laughed and cried together, and part of you figured that if you ever broke up, you would find a way to work through it somehow.

Maybe in another universe, you are still together. Maybe in another universe, you two are still friends. Maybe in another universe, you never had to lose each other.

In this reality though—in this brutal, unforgivable reality—everything changed in a matter of a day. And there is nothing you can do about it now.

Your flower was withering in secret, and you didn’t realize what it was doing to you. Every time you woke up alone, every canceled date, every time he called you and told you he wouldn’t make it home tonight, it was sure to build up to this.

But this, whatever the hell this is, it hurts beyond compare.

He said you were a rose, but now that you look in the mirror, you only see a rotten mess.

The past few months have done this to you. He has done this to you. The paper airplanes crashed and burned. There is nothing left but pure bitterness and this hatred you have toward yourself and him; you just want to land your fist in his face, and then maybe your own because how could he hurt you like that after making you love him so very much?

You loved him so much, but now you doubt he ever loved you back.

Date after date, coffee after coffee, nights spent together on his couch and in his bed, sharing laughter, sharing tears, it all feels like a hoax now.

You held him when he was unconscious, stitched him up and told him he was going to be okay. Where was he when you were bleeding out from your own battles? You wonder.

His smile used to be your safe haven, the epitome of innocence and strength, but now it only makes you angry. It makes you resent him. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t, but you still do.

So much has changed, and all it took was one day.

One day.

Three hundred days, all wasted in one.

If you think about it, you spent almost an entire year attached to each other’s side. You moved in together. You kissed, you had sex, you shared secrets you wouldn’t have told anyone else. You helped him hide away from the world, from his enemies, made the world go quiet, and comforted him while he cried. You waited up, you worried, and you almost lost him more times than you can count, and you still stayed.

When no one else would take a chance on him, when he felt everyone was against him and going to leave him, you acted as his rock. You stayed.

You thought he was the one.

And then it just… ended.

You gave him the benefit of the doubt when you found her in his dress shirt on his leather couch. The very same couch you two often shared passionate nights on, but at the same time it used to be a symbol of so much more than that.

You let him explain. He explained that she got seriously hurt after showing up out of nowhere, and he just wanted to help without putting you at risk. You believed him because that is the kind of man he was in your head. He was going through some things, things you couldn’t possibly understand, and she was the connection. You tried to understand. In the process of understanding him though, you lost yourself.

That is something you will never forgive him for. Making you care, making you love him, and unintentionally making you give up on yourself while he continued to break your heart.

You never wanted this to end, never wanted him to go, but in the end, it was the only way. Sticking around wasn’t an option anymore, you have to remind yourself.

He did the one thing he promised he would never do. He broke your heart and your trust into a million pieces that you are now left to pick up on your own.

You didn’t want to see it before. You were too in love to open your eyes.

He wouldn’t do such a thing, right? You remember repeating that to yourself, to your friends, to Foggy and Karen, but Karen saw him with her, too, and she gave you little hope.

Still, you believed in him. You believed in his morale and his faith. You had faith in him, not even in God but in him and the man he pretended to be—and somehow, he still picked up the knife when you weren’t looking and buried it in your back.

There were so many signs, but you were blind. So many flashing lights. Red flags. Screaming voices in the back of your head begging you to think. You were in a forest full of trees, yet you saw nothing.

When you came home to find his lips on hers, that’s when you knew. Too little, too late.

He called your name. He told you, “This isn’t what it looks like!” But you lost count of the times he used the same line in relation to her.

To anything, really. He always knew how to talk his way out of something when you were together, although back then, it was mostly harmless.

“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. “And you turned right back around and fucked her!”

“It was just a kiss,” he argued.

“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”

“No,” Matt was adamant because he could hear your heart breaking.

The way you spoke to him was so eerily quiet. That was how he knew he lost you, and he tried to fix it with nothing but his hands.

But that is not how you fix a broken vase. That’s how you make it worse and hurt yourself in the process.

You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“No. Fuck you, Matt!”

You tore the necklace with his initial off your neck and tossed it at his feet. You couldn’t even look at it. You wonder what happened to it after he picked it up.

“I trusted you. I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I was there when no one else was, and this is how you repay me?” you said.

You should have never let him fool you.

At least you had the decency to keep your lonely nights to yourself.

“Sweetheart, please,” Matt tried to beg again.

You wouldn’t let him. Thank God you were strong enough to withstand the tears in his eyes.

“You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock,” was one of the last things you said to him. “I wish we’d never met.”

Three hundred days. You fell in love. You finally knew what love felt like, and then…then he turned around and fucked it all up.

“We’re done.”

Some days, you still regret it, but if it was so easy for him to toss all this time together down the drain, he probably wasn’t worth it.

But God, you were so in love.

Sweet nothings whispered in your ear are gone now. You’re all alone in your bed. No one to cuddle, no one to touch. It has been a while since you heard someone say, “I love you,” and mean it. You felt loved until you didn’t. Until the life he led ate him up.

Instead of talking, instead of fighting with you, he drove you into a tree. A car that didn’t need sight, and still he crashed. It was winter then, the snow painted red by the blood of your broken heart. Your favorite dress torn up as you tried to escape. He reached for you the same way you reached for him, but you weren’t there. And he wasn’t there when you needed him most.

Part of you feels bad. You could have worked through this if he hadn’t kissed her. Or maybe you wouldn’t have. In the end, it killed you. It killed him.

You killed each other.

Though there are still days when you think about jumping off of very high somethings just to get his attention. Just for him to see you. To come to rescue you. It is a hurtful and selfish thought. Yet, you can’t help it.

He was your first true love.

Your mind keeps repeating the same sentence: It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he told you once.

He searched for something greater in the bed of someone he loved before. You weren’t his first love. You should have known he would say that and not mean it.

But when exactly did you go wrong?

Was it over when he stopped coming home at night? Was it over when he forgot your anniversary? Was it over when he canceled your birthday dinner? Or was it over when he shoved his throat down his ex-girlfriend’s throat in front of you and acted as if it didn’t matter? Was it over then?

“Another one for the lady,” a voice pipes up beside you.

Your empty glass of tequila disappears, now replaced by a full one. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on.

“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger.

“Nah, don’t thank me.” He sits down next to you. “You look miserable.”

“What if I am?”

“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”

You huff but offer the stranger your hand with a mention of your name.

He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say.

Broken people make bad decisions, but whether it was over when he took her right there on his couch, or it was over when you told him it was doesn’t matter.

It is over now, and all you want to do is forget.

You need to forget Matt Murdock.

And if this stranger called Frank needs to unbutton your blouse to help you do so, you will gladly follow him home.

Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @ravenclaw617

(also, I keep tagging you in stuff, but I also think you might like this @blackshadowswriter)

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #daredevil x reader #daredevil angst #angst #no happy ending #songfic #is it over now by taylor swift #elektra natchios #frank castle #frank castle x reader #x gender neutral reader #elektra natchios x matt murdock #cheating trope #lizzi writes #charlie cox #matt murdock imagines

973 notes · View notes

dameronology · 5 months ago

Text

marvel guys + slow mornings

mass headcanons because i wanted to write fluff and couldn't decide who for?? yes

steve rogers

slow mornings with steve are rare; he always has to be up early for work or for missions or just to go for a run - he always makes you coffee and breakfast when he's back, though - bc it's honestly just programmed into him that he has to be up before the sun. some days, though?? some days, he just needs to lay in, and he needs to be beside you. he'll wrap his arms around you, pull you close and sleep until his heart is content (and when you're there, it always is). he'll press a kiss to your jaw before he gets up and makes hot drinks & breakfast for you both, and then he'll spend the rest of the morning watching sitcoms with you on the sofa.

sam wilson

sam LIVES for slow mornings. sundays, specifically, are his allotted rot day. that means you guys will normally stay up late on the saturday doing something more social & fun, then come the next day, you cannot get him up before midday. those mornings afternoons are just filled with cuddles, watching a movie in bed, ordering takeout and catching up with each on the week. it's sam's favourite time of the week and he always looks forward to it.

bucky barnes

like steve, relaxing is not something that comes easily to bucky. in fact, he's still not entirely sure how to do it; that's not to say you can't have slow mornings, though. if you want to wrestle bucky into blankets on the sofa with a facemask, he won't complain - although he will if you post any of the selfies you took anywhere. it was after a few of this occasions that he finally gave in to the idea of chilling out. he will pretend not to be enjoying sex & the city, but he will absolutely complain if you pause it. such a samantha.

frank castle

slow mornings are an everyday occurrence for frank purely because he is never home before 4AM. that said, being woken up with a warm cup of coffee, pancakes and bacon and cuddles from you is the highlight of his day - and if he's up before you, he'll do the same for you. on particularly slow days, frank will move your living room television into the bedroom so you can watch television.

matt murdock

good lord matt LIVES for those days where he doesn't have to wake up at a stupid time. waking up naturally and not to an alarm is his favourite thing and it's even better when you're there!! tbh he still gets up at a decent time, but when you're both shuffling about in your fluffy socks in the kitchen, grumbling tiredly and piecing together a breakfast, some coffee and trying to decide what to watch?? he could not name a better feeling

peter parker

peter will sleep until 3pm if you do not wake him up. he is naturally a heavy, long sleeper and that only increased when he started his night job too. he has to be coaxed awake - normally with a cup of tea and the promise of some cuddles - and then he's all yours.

538 notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 4 months ago

Text

Matt: what’re you in jail for?

Frank: the fuck you think I’m in here for? Playing nice?

Matt: you’re right, how stupid of me. (Name) what’re you doing here? You usually keep your head out of trouble.

You: I hugged a manatee!

Frank: …

Matt:…

You: apparently manatees are a threatened species due to habitat loss and such, so human activity with them are heavily regulated regarding them, but I’d gladly do it again because what do you mean I can’t hug the manatee that’s clinging onto my leg?! That should be illegal in my opinion!

1K notes · View notes

nevarrhoe · 4 months ago

Text

mea culpa (m.m) - 2

SUMMARY: "mea culpa" (exclamation - noun/legal term)

used as an acknowledgement of one's fault or error.

↪ in which matt murdock accidentally falls in love with the district attorney's daughter.

warnings: smut, angst, swearing, fem! reader

masterlist

It was a little hard to stop thinking about Matthew Murdock over the next few days.

Nevermind the fact he’d left hickeys all over your neck - it was the fact he was texting you every few hours with absolutely indescribable fantasies that made it difficult to think about anything else. Your blood would run cold every time your phone buzzed, just on the off chance that one of your friends, or god forbid your father, see your phone screen. It put you on edge in the best way. This entire thing was already beyond fucked up for more than one reason and yet, you wanted more. So much more.

Can’t wait to taste you again.

Can’t wait to hear you scream my name again.

Hope you haven’t been thinking about anyone else.

And it was funny, really, because Matt was a perfectly respectable man from the outside. Quiet, unassuming, a dry sense of humour - you never would have taken him of all people to be the one to make you feel so fucking alive. It wasn’t just how good he was in bed, but rather the thrill of it all. Nothing got your motor running like a situation’s potential to disappoint your father but hey. That was for your therapist to deal with.

Of course, your father had asked several questions about where you’d disappeared too after the gala on Friday. He was more concerned about it had looked for him, and to have his daughter run out on a big charity event. Your mother had been less worried about that part, and more about her vintage Chanel suit. You’d settled both their worries by a) telling your father you’d had stomach problems (because who was gonna ask about that?) and b) promising to send the Chanel off to a dry cleaner.

It was on a slow Monday afternoon - exactly three days after you’d met him - that Matt sent you a not so dirty text. It was so casual, in fact, that it caught you more off guard than any of the filth he’d sent you over the weekend.

Wanna grab lunch?

“Are you okay, honey?”

You blinked, eyes shooting up to your best friend. Okay, maybe not a best friend - those were hard to come by in high-society. She was your most tolerable friend. It had been her idea to get martinis for lunch. Your idea of fun wasn’t exactly sitting around with five rich girls and their daddy’s credit cards but it wasn’t like you had work to do, right?

Part of you so badly wanted to tell them about the escapade over the weekend - about how much better an older guy was than all their ridiculous, frat-house boyfriends, and how good he’d made you feel. But did you trust them? Not with your damn life. And for risk of being cut out of your father’s will, you figured it was something to keep to yourself.

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat. “I gotta ditch. My dad needs me to get something from his office.”

Grabbing your jacket - a tan Chanel parka, naturally - you slid out of the booth and straight out of the restaurant. Matt’s number was dialed into your phone before you even hit the street.

“Matthew, hi!” you greeted him. “I’m down for lunch.”

“Perfect,” you could hear the smile in his voice. “Wanna come by my office?”

“Sure. Want me to grab takeout?”

“It’s okay. I already have lunch here.”

“Okay. Text me the address.”

–

The Nelson & Murdock office wasn’t too far from where you’d been. Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t exactly your stomping ground but your Uber had dropped you off right outside, and you had a taser in your bag. Not to mention the years of Krav Maga and karate that you’d done in high school and college. You could have been a damn vigilante if you wanted to.

It was the shorter, Nelson half of Nelson and Murdock that saw you first. He seemed taken aback at first - maybe by your expensive appearance, but also maybe because every other person in the room was a middle-aged man there for free legal advice. By the looks of your Chanel bag and red-soled shoes, he figured you probably didn’t need any legal advice for free. Especially not from him. It seemed much more apparent that you had the likes of Jeri Hogarth in your pocket should you need any legal assistance.

“Hello. Hi.” Foggy greeted you with wide eyes. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Uh, no,” you turned around to face him, sticking out your hand. “You’re Nelson, right?”

“I am Nelson,” he replied, shocked look still not faltering. “How do you know my name?”

“I’m a friend of Matt’s,” you explained. “I don’t suppose he’s around?”

Speak of the devil. Your conversation was cut short by Murdock’s entrance. He looked hot in a suave sort of way; tie loosened around his neck, top button undone and sleeves rolled up. It was the first time you’d seen him since you’d left his apartment early on Saturday morning and frankly, you didn’t know how to act. Most of the men you slept with didn’t invite you to their offices for lunch - hell, most of them didn’t have offices.

“Hey, Murdock,” you gave him a small wave.

“Hey - come in,” Matt shot you a grin, ushering over to his own office in the corner.

It was neater than you’d thought it would be; there was a laptop perched on his desk, with a braille translator and a stack of legal files. They were probably the same legal files your dad had, just..the other side of the story. After all, Nelson and Murdock were known for looking out for the little guy. That was much more admirable than daddy dearest and his famously corrupt evidence.

“Your shirt fits better today,” you commented, shrugging off your jacket. “That’s a real shame.”

“Is that a comment about my arms or the way I dress?”

“I think you know that it’s about your arms.”

You pushed aside the files, hopping up onto Matt’s desk. He had you caged in within a second, broad hands gripping your hips and guiding you up into a kiss. It was a little softer than the ones you’d shared on Friday night - there was less heat; a causal air to it. You didn’t think it was possible to miss the lips of a man you’d fucked exactly once.

“So,” you murmured against him. “You said you had lunch here.”

“I do,” Matt gave you a shit-eating grin. “You.”

“Matthew!” you hissed, hitting his shoulder. “Did you seriously invite me over here just for a fuck?”

“Not exactly!” he quickly replied, raising his hands in surrender. “I wanted to check in with you and see how you were.”

“Oh, okay,” you raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. “I’m not too bad. I was having lunch with some of my friends when you texted-”

Matt suddenly attached his lips to your neck, teeth gently nipping on the same mark he’d left a few days ago. You didn’t mean to let out a moan, but how could you not?

“Matthew!” you exclaimed again.

“No, go on!” he stopped for a second. “I’m listening. You were having lunch with your friends and…”

“And you texted and I was bored, so I left and - Jesus fucking Christ, that feels so good.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “You left your friends to see me?”

“I would leave my dying Aunt Betty’s bedside to see you,” you said. Without a second thought, you grabbed him by the tie and pulled him back towards you. “Enough catching up. I’m good to have lunch now.”

He gave you a grin and a few moments later, his hands found your way under your ass. Matt shoved aside the pile of legal papers and moved you further onto the desk, lips back on your neck and working a thousand times harder than they had before. Instinctively, you tangled a hand in his hair and just let him have at it.

The build-up wasn’t as tense as it had been the first time you fucked, but that was because Matt knew you better now. He pretty much had you memorised; the ticklish spot on your neck, the most sensitive spot on your hips, the way you liked his nails to dig into your back just enough to hurt. That was just a testament to him. Who else would remember that? Who else would take the time to learn what you liked after just once?

“Not that I don’t enjoy this,” Matt paused for a second. “But my lunch break isn’t that long. If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna have to be quick.”

“You’re real cheap, Matthew Murdock,” you scowled. “Do you invite all girls over here for a fuck disguised as lunch and then rush them?”

“No, not all of them,” he shot back. “Some are more breakfast kinda gals-”

“- oh shut the fuck up.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him back into a kiss. Matt couldn’t help but smile against you - at how badly you wanted him, how you chastised him but still didn’t stop him.

It was in that moment that you thanked every deity there was that you’d chosen to wear a skirt that day. But frankly, you wouldn’t have given a fuck if Matt had ripped your Versace mini-skirt to shreds. He would have been okay with that too, especially if it meant you have to borrow a shirt of his to leave in.

Still, Matthew Murdock was nothing if not respectable - at least enough so not to destroy your designer clothes. Instead, he simply pushed it up, large hands making their way to your ass cheeks and giving one of them a light slap. You froze when he did - how many clients were out there in the waiting room right now? Even with the blinds closed and the door shut, how many of them could hear what was going on?

“Problem?” Matt paused.

“There are people out there who could hear us-”

“- not with the air conditioning on. Foggy always has it going. Don’t worry.”

You scowled. “How do you know that?”

“Just do.”

Matt wasted no time in resuming his activities. Grabbing you by the hips again, he lifted you with ease and spun you around so that he was the one on the desk, and you were in his lap. The friction of his hard-on in his trousers against your core was almost unbearable and he could tell you were desperate by the way your grip on him suddenly tightened.

“Look at you,” he grinned. There was something about the way his voice dropped four octaves every time he was about to fuck you. “You’re calling me sloppy but you’re gagging for it, aren’t you?”

You let out a small grumble, shaking your head. “I thought you didn’t have time to tease?”

“You’re lucky that I don’t have time to do a lot of the things I want to do to you, sweetheart,” he said. “Everyone out there would be able to hear me fucking you if I didn’t have to be back in twenty minutes.”

“Matthew,” you growled. “I don’t care how long you have - if you’re not inside me in the next thirty seconds, I’m going somewhere else.”

“I didn’t think there would be many men around at this time willing.”

You let out a derivative snort, acrylic nails dragging down his neck and hand settling ever so gently on his throat. “You think I don’t have plenty of offers? You’re not the only man who can make me scream.”

It was almost like your words awakened something in Matt. In a flash, he’d pulled you off the desk and positioned you against it; there was the sound of his belt and a second later, his dick was inside you. Rock hard and beautiful, and the perfect length to have you clenching around him in mere fucking seconds.

He wasted no time in pounding into you from behind, one hand tangling his fingers with yours on the desk and the other wrapped around your throat. You had complete and utter trust in him and maybe that was why you placed your own hand over his and encouraged him to squeeze harder.

Matt’s movements were rapid and consistent: time was of the essence after all, and there was no way in hell he was going back to work until you came.

It didn’t take much, to be honest. Not when you had his gruff voice muttering things in your ear. It was hard not to make noise then - Matt moved his hand from your throat accordingly, clutching it over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your moans. What an ass. Not to mention that it only made you even fucking louder.

“Do they make you feel this good?” he teased. “Do they?”

He managed to hit the right spot over and over and it wasn’t long before you felt that knot in your stomach. It was a plunge; like a plane falling out of the sky, anything that caused a sharp drop in your gut. The room was practically spinning around you as you came undone, red acrylics digging into the skin of Matt’s arm for some kind of relief.

“There we go, sweetheart,” Matt murmured. He softened his pace, slowing down for a minute to revel in his own high. “Good girl.”

He released his hand from your mouth, chest heaving against your back for a minute as you both came down from your respective orgasms. A broad arm wrapped around your waist, steadying you. Matthew Murdock was a gentleman, even when he was rearranging your guts.

You slowly turned around to face him, pulling him into another desperate kiss.

“Are you free tomorrow night?” Matt softly asked.

“Yeah, I am,” you ran a hand down his chest, faltering for a second. “Why? You gonna take me out for dinner?”

“Yeah, but an actual meal. It’s not a euphemism, I promise,” he gave you a grin.

You returned the gesture for a minute, a wide smile on your face - but then it faltered. “Matthew, I would love for you to take me on a date, and I adore spending time with you but…”

“But what?”

“My dad,” you groaned, dropping your head into his shoulder. “If anyone catches me with you, I’m done for - as hot as that is.”

Matt couldn’t help but chuckle. “Okay, fine. What if we just hang out at my apartment and get take out? You can dress like a slob and no-one will see us.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” your smile quickly returned. “But I am not dressing like a slob. I wear Chanel or I wear nothing.”

“I would much prefer it if you wore nothing.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock reader insert #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x fem! reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagines #daredevil imagine #daredevil smut #daredevil angst #daredevil reader insert #daredevil x fem! reader #daredevil #matt murdock #daredevil born again

246 notes · View notes

jaggedamethyst · 20 days ago

Text

my faves reactions to you wearing a slightly too short shirt at home

saw myself in the mirror and realized i was wearing my pants and shirt so much more comfortably than i would if i went outside and despite me being self conscious of my stomach it was kinda cute and gave domestic vibes so here’s a few of my favorite guys seeing you in comfy pajamas…i also might have a type…

18+ mdni, smut and references, gn!reader

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

bucky barnes

bucky’s so into your chest it’s unreal. at the sight of your pants hanging just that bit lower, he realizes he has access to the skin lingering just below where he loves to touch you most. its undoubtedly where you love for him to pay most attention to, too.

you’ll feel his hands lingering up your chest before you even realize he's there. you’d anchor yourself on a nearby counter as he downright fondles you, fingers slipping in as he teases your nipples between his fingers. he’s a bit insatiable, greedy really. bucky would let his flash hand rest on your waist eventually, deciding that the feel of his metal fingers in your walls was enough for you for now. after a while, though, his hands would move in tandem. he’d find a pace that’d have you folded in front of him…and all because he couldn’t resist the slight peak of your skin.

jayce talis

jayce is already in your lap when he realizes your shirt is a bit shorter, pants resting lower than normal when he’s cuddled up here. he's observant that way…easily acknowledging the subtle changes you make even when you dont realize them yourself.

it’s how he noticed that you were a bit more sensitive today, riled up by what is usually quite innocent touches around your hips. the pads of his fingers ignited a flame in you that had you writing, almost begging him to oblige your crave for him. he would, always would.

it wouldn’t be long before he’s slid your pants down and kneeled in front of you, absolutely devouring you with his mouth. he’s quite fond of resting in your lap, yes, but even more happy to unravel you with his tongue alone. it’s calculated and deliberate, his hands using your bared stomach for leverage as he pulls you into him. he loves the way you roll into his mouth…it only makes him want you more.

frank castle

frank castle is the epitome of loyal…so when he finally sees you again he’s so close to exploding already.

he’d stalk into your place after being gone for weeks, remaining stoic as best he could. he’d see your waist, though, your skin…and be gone. against his better judgment he’d already be on you, skipping any pleasantries and pushing for the sweetest talk that you undoubtedly missed.

he’d apologize profusely, slipping into you with little prep but needing it this way nonetheless. it’d be a quiet and rushed, “sorry, baby. just missed you.” the words blending together, also mixing with the now squelching sound of you two fucking each other. it’d be sweet still…franks hands tethered to your skin and rubbing away any ache you had.

joel miller

the first word out of joel’s mouth is a drawn out and gruff “darlin’…” it’s almost accusatory, that you know what you’re doing and exploiting his pure and unadulterated lust for you. he could almost loathe you…for making him anything less than the southern gentleman he attempts to be despite the trying times.

he’s quick to sit on the couch, legs spread and hardened length making itself known through his rough pants. his words are always laced with that southern drawl…one you’d grown to love and pine for when he wasn’t around. he’d motion you over with a quiet “come ‘ere,” rubbing the topside of his thigh.

he’d get comfortable, letting each of you fall into sync with one another…yet making note to grab your waist. he’d keep a single hand kneading into your side as he slipped his calloused fingers inside of you. joel is slow and generous, letting his grip roll you down into his other palm. he’s happy to do this, to be yours to use…yours however you’ll have him.

matt murdock

matt murdock is so sensory that he’d notice because of the way the air is moving around you…how the heat of your skin is no longer hidden by the fabric of a long shirt. he would perk up at that, the way you’re slightly exposed to him and all the more ready for him to latch on to.

matt would sneak up on you for sure, being able to sense your focus being elsewhere. you would immediately recognize his hands…softly rubbing at the exposed line of your stomach, and kissing your neck as he nestled behind you.

he’s usually one to make it sweet, facing you so as to have direct access to every reaction he’s drawing from you. this time, though, he can’t help but take you from the back…hands consistently rubbing into the soft skin at your waist while he has your entire body shaking. your whines would fall on drowned out ears…matt completely locked in on the feel of your supple skin.

full master list

#jaggedamethyst #smut #jayce talis #arcane jayce #jayce talis x reader #arcane #jayce x reader #jayce talis x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #tlou joel #matt murdock #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock x you

163 notes · View notes