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star-crossed-sluts · 7 months ago

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Matt Murdock X Chubby!Fem!Reader

Contents: 2.2k words, love confession/discussion, cheeky reader, giggly sex, chubby female reader, slight insecure reader but that's quickly solved, mentions of bullying regarding weight though very brief

Minors DNI

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You've dealt with strange looks all your life. It wasn't surprising their whispers had infiltrated your mind. Often you managed to catch yourself, stopping the thoughts that weren't quite yours. When you first met Matt, the most frequent one was, of course, you could only get a blind man to like you. It was cruel, and you tried to chase it away every time, but there was a small part of you that thought, if only I can keep him from touching me, we can go on like this.

Because you were a fool.

He always grabs your hips first, almost a warning of the devil to come.

“What’re you doing up,” he rumbled against your neck, voice thick with sleep. You're half-sure he’s subconsciously tracking how long you've been away from his arms every night, waking himself when the timer passes your usual bathroom breaks’ duration.

His hands push even further, rubbing your sides until he's gripped two handfuls of your soft stomach. Bare chest plastered against your back, his grip manhandling your hips back to meet his. You used to shy away from his touch, wanting to keep the you from reality separate from the you he's crafted in his mind's eye.

Little hard to feel ashamed of your body when he was rocking his hard-on against your ass.

“You're insatiable, Matthew.”

His groan was pained, like you were terribly twisting his arm instead of letting him fondle you in the kitchenette. “Don't call me Matthew,” he griped, one hand searching for the bottom of your nightshirt. “Reminds me of my priest.”

You leaned into him, a fond smile playing on your lips as he found the edge of your panties, starting to leave open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Because you’re such an altar boy,” you joked as his fingers trailed the hem, outlining the curve where your leg met your mound. You know the moment he thinks of a retort, because his lips twitch against your pulse.

“Well, I do seem to spend a lot of time on my knees-” He burst into laughter as your elbow came back at him, letting you attack his ribs to distract you from the way his hand explored your upper thigh. “Abuse,” he accused, “attacking a blind man!”

“It’s alright, I know a great lawyer.”

Matt chuckled against the thrumming vein in your neck, his grip on your stomach pulling you tighter against him. “Yeah? You know, my rates are pretty steep, but I think we can come up with some alternative payment.”

“I was talking about Foggy.”

His laugh flew out of him, taken completely off guard, and sent you into manic giggles right along with him, throwing yourself back against his chest to hold you upright. “You're terrible,” he cackled, tugging you to shuffle backwards to the bedroom with him. “Come back to bed, trouble.”

“Oh, don't you start with me,” you faux-threatened, but still gave in and helped him navigate the living room. “You're so much more trouble than I am.”

He pretended to mull it over, hmm-ing and mmm-ing between soft kisses on your neck. “Alright,” he decided, “I'll let you have that one. Y'know, since you obviously need a win right now.”

You hit the mattress, helping each other climb into bed like you hadn't been in months, as opposed to the twenty minutes it took you to make and drink your sleep aid. Only when you were wrapped in each other's arms again did you gush, “oh, yes, obviously. How can I thank you, Matty?”

Who could ever think you were anything but beautiful - that he thought you were anything but stunning - when he got such an eager, bashful grin at the suggestion. When his entire face lit up with a pink hue, as if he hasn't helped himself to your body any chance he got. How long have you lived together, and he still got that cute crinkle in the corners of his eyes with the force of his beaming as he dove for your lips.

“Y'know,” he murmured into your mouth, “I was disappointed when I woke up and you were gone.”

You dragged your hands down his bare back, snapping his waistband with a grin. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he emphasized, like he was offended by the teasing tone you took with him, snapping your underwear. A warning that he was ready to give as good as he got. “It's not nice to leave your boyfriend all alone in bed.”

You hummed, pretending to really consider that as you let him pull you to straddle his hips. He helped you out of your night shirt, tossing the thin fabric aside and letting out a pleased groan as you plastered your chest to his. You dragged your lips softly over his jaw, a smile twitching into place as he chased you, trying to catch a kiss. “Are you saying you think I should make it up to you?”

“I'm saying it's been entirely too long since you've sat on my face.”

A laugh burst from you at that, even as Matt peeled your underwear down your thighs. “Oh, yes, it's already been several days!”

“Exactly: it's been days,” he groaned, offering his hands for you to balance as you tossed around to escape the cotton around your knees, working them down one leg, then the other.

“Next time,” you promised with a soft kiss, nimble fingers working the strings on his pants. “I drank my-”

“Your sleepy girl mocktail?” He grinned like he could feel your embarrassed glare, kissing the pout off your lips. “Can taste it. You added honey tonight?”

“I needed something to make it sweeter,” you huffed. A tap on his hip and he lifted them for you, helping you work his pants off. You couldn't help a smile as his dick slapped his stomach, leaving a smudge of pearly precum on his smooth skin. “You're such an evil man,” you accused, wrapping your fingers around his base to watch the way his hips jerked into your palm. A stroke with your thumb along that thick vein and he leaked another stream, dripping down the side of him and onto your hand. “You're this hard when you've been teasing your poor girlfriend?”

Your hips moved on their own when he slid two thick fingers between his lips, grinding against him as he laved his tongue over the digits. That smug grin you hated to love spread across his face as his wet fingers fit themselves to your slit, one rubbing soft shapes into your clit while the other pressed inside you. “My poor girlfriend,” he mused, “who never gets off on teasing me?”

You shut him up with a kiss, trying to smother his chuckles that told you he knew exactly what you were doing. Still, it didn't stop him from taking advantage, pressing his tongue into your mouth, tasting every inch of you. The bitterness of the tart cherry juice and the sweetness of the honey from your drink dancing on his tongue, disappointingly hiding the taste of you that he's begun to crave. If he pushed deeper, he could almost imagine he found it again, in the back of your throat where nothing could reach but him. Somehow it felt even more intimate than the way you worked each other up with your hands: being the only one to know what you taste like behind the toothpaste and soda you cycled through daily.

Matt's no idiot. He hears the comments you get, feels the stares - sometimes even more than you do. He wished he could find a way to tell you how wrong they were, but how would he even begin? How do you tell someone that when you wake up alone, the first thing you do is listen for where your girlfriend’s gone? That you could sculpt her exactly from how much you touch her, desperate to commit her to memory. How do you tell someone that even without your sight, your every sense is devoted to her?

He supposed he could settle for making you see stars while he figured it out.

You grinned against Matt's lips, a slight giggle falling out, as he rolled you onto your back. You were always tempted to make fun of him for his favorite position, but there was nothing Catholic about the way he took you.

Your hands kept working his cock as he arranged you - hooking your knees over the crooks of his elbows so he could feel your thick thighs pressed against him - to hear him curse under his breath. “Careful,” he warned, kissing his way down the side of your neck, “or we'll be up all night,”

“Mm, is that supposed to discourage me?”

A strained laugh against your tender skin as you gave a particularly harsh tug. “You think you're so cute,” he managed out, trying to sound anything other than reverent.

You shared a chaste kiss as you guided him between your thighs. “I'm adorable,”

“Yes, you are. Arms around my neck, angel.”

You always ended up the same way when one or the other needed some love. Nose to nose, lips glancing off each other like you were shy teenagers again. Your legs over Matt's arms gave him the feeling of holding you completely, letting his hands wander to feel every reaction your body gave him. Your arms around his neck, letting you claw up his back or card through his soft hair, pull his mouth wherever you wanted it.

A match made in heaven.

Matt had long since broken you of your bad habit to muffle yourself, the breathy moan falling unhindered from your lips as he pressed into you like coming home. Your voice rang in the empty bedroom, more beautiful than any song, perfectly accompanied by the slick sounds from your cunt as he started a slow, grinding pace. Your hands clenched and unclenched, scratching the base of his neck as you lost yourselves in each other. Lips connected in passing swipes, sharing a deep kiss and almost separating before diving back in. His fingers traced every curve, dip and fold of your soft skin, reveling in your body the way only a man truly in love could.

The word haunted him until he told you. “Love you,” he managed through heaving breaths, soft and quiet in the privacy of the bed you shared. Then, as if afraid you hadn’t heard him, he said it louder. “I’m in love with you, y’know that?”

“Matty,”

A great big grin spread over his face when you whined, ankles locking together behind him like you thought he’d stop talking if he fucked you deeper. “Why so shy,” he hummed, stealing another wet kiss. “You didn’t know that? I don’t tell you enough?” He felt your feet kick and your lips turn into a pout, laughing at your mini fit.

“‘S different,” you insisted, dragging him back to your lips, only to pull him back once you’ve thought of a defense. “In love is bigger than love.”

It’s a conversation you had in the early stages, when friendship was just barely turning into something more, when you were both stuck dropping hints, hoping the other would make the leap. You didn’t think he remembered until he managed to quote you with his hips pressed into yours. “‘Love is a feeling you can’t control, being in love is a choice- a commitment,’ I know.” He plunged into you as deeply as he could, bringing your lips to his with his palms cupping your round cheeks. He only pulled back when you were both struggling to breathe, searching each other’s air for anything you could get from it. “I,” he enunciated carefully, making sure he left no room for misinterpretation, “am hopelessly in love with you, darling. I choose you every hour of the day. I would choose you in a room of women, I would choose you if you were a worm, and in every other ridiculous scenario that you let keep you up at night.” He heard your lips part as your jaw went slack, smelled the salt of your budding tears as he ranted to you. He pressed a chaste kiss to your parted lips. “I know it’s bigger, and you don’t have-”

“I’m in love with you.”

He felt his heart thump in his chest, beating its way out as you dragged him down to your level, smacking a hundred split-second kisses to every inch of his face. “I love you, I am in love with you, I would pick you- I love you so much, Matty!”

He pulled your hips up higher on his lap so he could get closer to you, arms wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest until there wasn’t a breath of air between you. His firm body pressing into your soft one like he could make a home in your chest, let you surround him until you would never have to be apart.

“I hope you realize we’ll definitely be up all night now,”

“I’m not the one who has court tomorrow,”

A giddy laugh smothered in the crook of your neck as his hips started pumping into you again. “You are trouble,”

You pressed your lips to his temple. “Perfect match for you, then.”

“Yes, you are.”

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farfromstrange · 3 months ago

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Fictober Day 15: Mutual Masturbation

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Mutual Masturbation (✨)

Summary: Mutual masturbation. That's it.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), mutual masturbation, fingering, dirty talk, use of "good boy"

Word Count: 722

A/n: Matt's initials are MM, and so are the initials of this prompt.

Read Me On AO3! (Coming soon)

The air in the room is heavy.

Your labored breathing remains the only audible sound as you work your fingers against your swollen clit. You’re so wet, so desperate, chasing the pleasure coursing through your veins like a madwoman.

Matt looks ethereal like this, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, and with his hand wrapped around his achingly hard cock. He’s stroking himself to the rhythm of your racing heart, and you get lost in the vision of him.

There is no doubt that he is listening to the way your fingers spread the wetness all over your pussy. He hears the way your breath hitches when you tease your hole with the tip of your index finger, the way you moan when you circle that sensitive bundle of nerves he loves to wrap his lips around, and the way you spread your legs just a little further so he can smell the intoxicating scent of your arousal. You’re his drug.

His cock is thick, pink, and you almost start to salivate at the thought of putting him in your mouth. You watch his eyebrows crunch in pleasure as he speeds up just a little. What you would give to feel him inside you, but you have to be patient. You don’t often get to see him like this.

You’re the reason he gets out of bed every morning, and you are the reason his cock is hard enough to burst. He could come without touching himself. He could come to the mere sound of your breathy voice crying out his name into the dark room.

The things he does to you can’t possibly be healthy. The way he looks can’t possibly be human. But he’s here with you, spread out in bed, and you get to watch him come undone. It’s enough to make you moan a little louder, to grip the sheets, and to arch your back into your own hand.

“You look so pretty,” you pant. “Can't wait to feel you inside me. Fill me up with your cum. Make me–” you gasp, crooking your fingers toward the spot he once helped you find, “Fuck!”

Matt chokes on a groan. “Don’t stop,” he pleads.

You wonder what he means for a second, but then it dawns on you. Don’t stop talking. He wants you to keep serenading him with your voice's sweet, sweet melody He wants to feel you in his very bones until he can’t hold it anymore. Until he can’t help but to come, and to cry out your name in ecstasy. Until he’s a mess covered in cum that you have to pick up off the floor because he will have drowned in you.

You reach out to touch his sturdy thigh. “Wanna wrap my hand around your cock,” you continue. “Wanna feel how hard you are? Wanna take you into my mouth. Wanna suck until you come in my mouth like a good boy.”

His back arches off the bed.

“Such a good boy,” you say again, and he gives up.

With a cry of your name, Matt tumbles over the edge, his orgasm tearing through him like a tsunami. Cum spurts on his stomach, coating the faint hairs on his chest in his essence. You watch as he drives himself into overstimulation, not able to stop from coming and coming and coming.

The sight will stay forever ingrained in your mind. You watch him fall apart, and it sends you over the edge, too. Your walls shake around your fingers, his name a broken moan from your lips.

Time seems to slow to a crawl. Galaxies of stars explode in your line of vision. For a while, you simply float there, hearts beating in sync. You trace your fingers over the soft skin of his thigh, and his hand wraps around yours. He’s searching for something to hold onto just as much as you do.

“You okay?” you ask.

He nods, fingers tracing along the pulse point on your wrist. “I love you,” he says.

You move your quivering body closer to his. “I love you too.”

He’s warm, and he’s nowhere near strong enough to pull you in right now, but he feels like home. Because home is hardly ever a place, it is a person, and Matt is and will forever be your person.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @xnatyx @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @zomtart @ethereal-blaze

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock smut #daredevil #daredevil x reader #lizzi’s fictober 2024 #charlie cox

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yourstru1y4ever · 3 months ago

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Day 16 - Exhaustion

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader Word Count: 861 Content: Fluff, very much a comfort piece Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: It’s been a few days since I wrote my boy Matthew Murdock. . . I apologize for the wait y’all! Gojo has been taking up a lot of my brain space lately, but I’m thinking of rewatching DD soon so I might get back to the Devil soon~

You groan as you open the front door of your apartment, the weight of the day fully taking effect. You didn’t have a long shift but enough things kept going wrong during it causing you to get more and more tired as the day went on.

You softly close the door and take your shoes off at the front door, careful to put them in the same spot you’ve always had. Just because you had a shitty day doesn’t mean you get to be shitty towards Matt.

You trudge down the hallway and collapse on the couch, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to bask in the silence. Every part of you feels weighed down by some invisible force and you’re unwilling to get up from it. You breathe in and out, slowly regulating your body and trying to gain a sense of calm.

You keep your eyes closed and try to listen to the different sounds around the apartment complex. You can hear some voices coming from the street, talking about nothing in particular. You hear the upstairs neighbor’s tv playing a rerun of a Mets game from the other night. The neighbor is hard of hearing and you can vaguely hear their partner telling them to put their hearing aids in.

You’re unsure how much time passes, but you’re pretty sure you’ve been awake. The sun slowly starts to set and the billboards around the apartment become the only light that illuminates you. There’s a soft pattering of rain against the window and your breathing finally begins to slow down.

The door creaks open as Matt slowly comes through the front door. He’s holding a bag of takeout in one hand as he shuts the door quietly. Once he sets the food down on the floor he pulls at his cane and folds it up, placing it on the bench by your shoes.

He cocks his head to the side, listening to your quiet breathing and your steady heartbeat. He smiles briefly before he realizes that the lights aren’t on in the apartment and that you haven’t changed out of your work clothes, head face down on the couch, unmoving.

He brings the takeout to the kitchen before he walks over to the couch and kneels down to your level.

You slowly open your eyes and look at him, giving him a weak smile.

“Hi sweetheart.” He whispers.

“Hi Matty,”

Matt places his hand on your check, caressing it, “You okay?”

“Exhausted.” You mutter.

“Work?”

You hum in response while you close your eyes.

“Well let’s have some dinner,” Matt brings his hand to your back rubbing circles, easing any tension you might have had.

“I’ll bring it over to you so you don’t have to get up.” He stops rubbing your back and helps you take off your jacket and shoes.

You sigh, bringing yourself to sit upright on the couch, “Have I told you how much I love you?”

“Almost every day sweetheart,” He answers as he puts your jacket on the coat rack.

“Almost every day?” You turn to look at him, “I don’t say it enough then,” Matt snorts at that and after a few minutes he comes over to the couch bringing over a plate of your favorite takeout.

“I’m glad I decided to get dinner here tonight,” He says as he hands you your plate and also sets down some water on the table in front of you. Matt quickly kisses your temple and then goes to grab his food. He soon joins you on the couch, quietly telling you about his day and his plans for the patrol tonight.

Once you both finish eating, Matt grabs your plate before you even consider putting it away.

“Let me take care of you tonight, you deserve the rest.” He tells you as he puts the dishes in the sink.

“But you work so hard both day and night. It’s not fair that I feel so burnt out after a few hours of work.”

Matt quickly cleans off the plates and sets them aside to dry. He comes back over to you, sitting right by your side.

He tilts you a little towards him, “And you’ve been there for me when I feel just as exhausted. You’ve helped me in more ways than you could ever know, so let me help you.”

You start blinking away tears that you hadn’t realized were forming and you hug Matt tightly. He hugs you back just as tightly, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You stay there for what feels like hours but Matt eventually helps you move into bed, change into more comfortable clothes and gives you your weighted blanket. You only use it while he’s out on patrol, but he promised you that he would try to be home sooner.

Once he’s gone you can feel yourself slowly going to sleep and after a few hours you feel Matt join you in bed, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him.

You wake up the next morning feeling refreshed and loved, ready for whatever kind of day you have to face today.

#tuna tober 2024 #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock fluff #daredevil x reader #daredevil fluff #matt murdock imagine #matthew murdock

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year ago

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Underneath the Mistletoe

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: Tired of enduring the obvious pining between you and Matt, Foggy and Karen plan a way to get you and Matt to admit your feelings - or at least to kiss.

Warnings/tags: Nothing but holiday fluff and first kisses

a/n: Finally I managed to get a holiday fic written with everything going on here for me for at least one of my boys! This one grew longer than anticipated but I hope y'all enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18

Walking in step beside Foggy with her heels clacking along the sidewalk, Karen twirled the branch of mistletoe in her hand, her eyes transfixed on it as it spun. A soft laugh lightly fell from her lips as she shook her head at the fresh clipping. Glancing over her shoulder, she shot Foggy a questioning look beside her. The movement caught his attention and he shifted towards her, catching her eye in return.

“What?” Foggy asked. “What's with that look?”

Karen raised her hand, holding out the mistletoe towards him. One blonde brow rose up onto her forehead skeptically as she eyed him.

“I don't know, Fog,” she mused. “Do you really think this is going to accomplish anything tonight?”

Foggy let out a huff as he reached out, snatching the branch from her hand. He glared playfully back at Karen as Josie’s bar came into view farther down the block.

“Of course it is!” he exclaimed. “Because it's mistletoe , Karen! When two people stand under it, they are required to kiss.”

Karen rolled her eyes, waving a dismissive hand at him. “I know what it is, Fog,” she replied. “But do you think it'll actually get them to kiss? Or even go so far as to admit that they have feelings for each other?”

“It has to,” Foggy answered firmly. “Because I for one am personally tired of Matt making plans to come to Josie’s on specific nights after work, at specific times, just to run into our pretty new friend who often comes here alone because she's quite clearly smitten by our dear, frustrating Matthew. I mean, aren't you tired of watching all the obvious pining, too?”

Karen expelled an audible breath, a wispy cloud of water vapor forming in the air in front of her before it dispersed into the frigid night. Running a gloved hand through her hair, she nodded.

“Yeah, I am,” she agreed. “I mean it's so clear that she's interested in him with the way her eyes are always glued to him whenever he's around. Always smiling at him. And Matt is always finding ways to flirt with her. Or constantly inviting her to meet us back at Josie’s whenever he can–there's absolutely no way he can deny it, either. There's clearly something there.”

“So tonight we'll just…help them along,” Foggy told her, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Right? Just to get them to stop dancing around their feelings with a little, festive nudge. That's all.”

Slowly, a devious smile spread itself across Karen’s lips as the pair came to a stop in front of the bar. Foggy shot Karen a conspiratorial wink before he opened the door to the bar, a burst of warm air wafting out immediately. He waved her inside before following after her, his eyes scanning the room for Josie. The moment he spotted her behind the bar he held up the branch of mistletoe in the air high above his head.

“Josie!” he called out.

Behind the bar, Josie’s head darted up from the bottle of beer she was opening for a patron. When recognition dawned on her face at who had called for her, she shot the pair of them a flat look.

“What do you want, Nelson?” she called back.

“Two beers and your permission to hang this up in your fine establishment,” Foggy answered her, waving the mistletoe above his head again.

Josie eyed the branch for a moment before dramatically rolling her eyes. “Whatever,” she shot back, focusing back on opening the bottle of beer. “Just as long as you aren't expecting me to kiss you tonight.”

“Aww, Josie,” Foggy cooed, “you wound me so! And on such a magical evening no less.”

“Pay your tab and it'll be a magical evening,” Josie quipped back.

Beside Foggy, Karen threw a hand over her mouth as a giggle bubbled up out of her. Foggy shot Karen yet another playful glare before he led the way over towards the bar, eager to see how the night would unfold.

“Ugh, it was such a good look on his face, too!” Foggy exclaimed, slamming his palm onto the small wooden table for emphasis. “I mean, when Matt dropped that line to the jury, you could just see the color drain from Samson's face! It was beautiful��!”

A smile pulled at the corner of your lips as you glanced down at the bottle of beer before you. You'd made your way through the flurry of snowflakes outside once you'd left your office, walking all the way over to Josie’s just so you could meet up with the three lawyers you'd strangely come to befriend here over the past few months.

The three of them often loved to celebrate their wins in court here, something you had quickly found yourself invited to as if you'd always been part of the group–or the law firm of Nelson, Murdock, and Page itself–instead of just having been the woman at the bar Foggy had once accidentally spilled a drink on before insisting that he buy you your next drink to apologize. After that night when you'd met his friends, you usually found yourself joining them at this little dive bar on a weekly basis.

And it was no surprise to you that the three of them would be here again this evening because you'd seen them here only two nights ago when Matt himself had asked if you'd join them again. It was quite a confident gesture of him to invite you out to celebrate their win already that night, too, considering the trial hadn’t even happened yet–though confidence bordering on cockiness seemed the norm when it came to Matthew Murdock. Initially you hadn't been planning to come out tonight, but the moment his red lenses had focused on you from across the table and he had flashed you that charming smile on his handsome face, you knew you'd change your plans just to spend another few hours in his presence. You couldn't exactly resist the attractive lawyer who was always flashing smiles in your direction, and he often wasn't far from your mind whenever you weren’t here.

But of course you'd never admit that.

“It was pretty entertaining, I'll agree,” Karen replied.

Across the table from you, Matt shifted in his chair. The moment his knee brushed yours underneath the table, your hand tightened around your beer bottle. Inhaling a sharp breath, you sat entirely still in your seat, glad Matt couldn't see your reaction. Though you could feel the heat rising up your neck as your knee felt like it was pleasantly tingling from the brief contact with his. Across from you, Matt cleared his throat, one of his large hands rising from the table and tugging at the collar of his tie. You fought hard to not openly stare at his fingers as they pulled at the fabric, a tight smile slipping onto his lips.

“If only I could have witnessed it,” Matt added.

Internally you agreed. You could only imagine what it would be like to see Matt in action, delivering such powerful and impassioned speeches that you'd only ever drunkenly heard him recite in bits and pieces after the fact at Josie’s. You'd love to see him with his tie done up tight and his suit jacket on, his broad shoulders squared in that confident manner he had as he walked around the courtroom as if he owned it. Which you knew he must do in court because you saw him do it every time he entered this bar.

And it never failed to turn you on.

You knew it was stupid and foolish, but you wanted him horribly; you always had ever since the night he held out his hand to you and told you his name. He was a beautiful mystery, always so observant for a man lacking one of his senses. And he was charming and flirtatious, which often threw you off even though you assumed it was just his personality. Admittedly you had a crush on him, one you were too afraid to ever confess because he seemed far too out of your league.

“Hey,” Foggy said, cutting through your thoughts, “what do you all say to a game of pool tonight? Guys against gals?”

Attention shifting to Foggy who was sitting beside Matt, you noticed the way his eyes were darting around the three of you. Eyes narrowing curiously for a moment, you wondered what was with the look he seemed to keep shooting Karen. Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Matt’s dark brow rise curiously above his glasses as if he somehow had also detected something strange in the way Foggy had suggested the game of pool.

“I don't know,” you began slowly, eyeing the three of them. “I think maybe tonight I'll sit the game out. I'm pretty worn out from work today, I don't think I’m up for a game.”

Foggy’s eyes immediately went wide, his mouth falling open as he gaped at you. Your bottom lip slipped between your teeth awkwardly as you sent him a sheepish smile.

“Oh come on!” Foggy pressed. “It’ll be fun! I promise!”

“Sorry,” you muttered, shrugging lightly. “Not tonight for me.”

Foggy opened his mouth as if he was about to immediately protest, but you felt a hand lightly land on your shoulder. Glancing to your left, you spotted Karen shooting you a wide smile as her piercing blue eyes locked onto yours.

“That’s alright, Fog,” Karen said quickly. “You boys can play a game and the two of us can watch and chat. Right?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” you stammered out, confused about the way she was eyeing you while Foggy was staring intensely at the side of her head. “That–that sounds good.”

“Great!” Karen exclaimed as her hand released your shoulder and she slid her chair back. “Let’s go grab another table then.”

Brows furrowed together, you carefully pushed your chair back and rose to your feet along with everyone else. Reaching a hand out, you grabbed your drink from off the table before making your way around it. Though it didn’t escape your notice that Matt still seemed to be wearing a similar look of skepticism on his face. Clearly you weren’t the only one thinking the two seemed off tonight.

Silently you followed behind Karen as she picked out an empty table just beside the pool table and gracefully slid into the seat, sending you a friendly smile as she caught your eye. You returned the gesture, slowly slipping into the seat across from her as Foggy led Matt towards the pool table. Almost involuntarily your eyes flew over to Matt when you saw him set his drink down and begin rolling up his dress sleeves while you settled into your chair. You always did enjoy seeing his muscular forearms covered in those dark hairs, but unfortunately because it was December, he didn’t often roll them up. Though something above his head caught your eye as he was rolling up his left sleeve and you glanced up.

Eyes widening in surprise, you stared at the branch of mistletoe hanging directly above him. That was the last thing you’d have expected to find at Josie’s. She certainly didn’t seem like the type of woman who’d go hanging holiday decorations of any sort in her bar, let alone mistletoe . You were suddenly even more grateful that you’d decided not to play pool tonight so you wouldn’t have to avoid standing beneath it all night.

“So,” Karen began, the conspiratorial lowering of her voice drawing your eye back to her as she leaned forward towards you, “there’s something I’ve been dying to know for awhile and we never really get a chance to chat as just us girls so I haven't had the opportunity to ask.”

Raising your beer bottle to your lips, you took a deep drink from it under the weight of Karen’s stare. You had a feeling you’d need the liquid courage for whatever question she was about to ask you. Swallowing the drink down, you soon cleared your throat, fighting to keep your gaze on Karen and not Matt as he let out a bark of laughter that had your stomach squirming. He always looked unbelievably handsome with a broad smile spread over his beautiful lips–a look you enjoyed seeing on him. It was difficult not to glance at the sight.

“What’s uh, what’s on your mind?” you asked hesitantly.

Her dark pink lips curled ever higher as she leaned further forward, placing her elbows onto the table. Her head tilted a bit to the side, a few strands of blonde hair falling forward and framing her face. The angelic appearance wasn’t fooling you though and your stomach twisted nervously.

“Do you like Matt?” she asked bluntly.

It felt like your heart stopped as the sound of billiard balls clacking together on the nearby pool table rang through your ears. Your lips parted in surprise before you could mask your reaction. Despite the fact that you had a feeling she was going to ask you something along those lines, hearing the question aloud still startled you. Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Matt’s head turn in the direction of your table. Though there was absolutely no way he could’ve overheard Karen with how quietly she’d asked the question, but that didn’t stop the heat from once again rising up your neck and reaching your face.

“Oh, well, of course,” you replied awkwardly, pushing a few strands of hair from your face as you focused on your beer bottle. “I like all of you. That's–that's why I'm always here hanging out with you three.”

Nervously glancing up from under your lashes, you saw Karen’s face twist into a look that clearly said that wasn't what she'd meant at all. You shot her a nervous smile, hoping she wouldn't push it. Though as you grabbed your bottle of beer and brought it to your lips for another pull, it was obvious she wasn't letting this go.

“I don't mean do you like Matt as a friend,” she clarified. “I meant are you interested in him? Romantically speaking?”

Nearly choking as you swallowed your drink, you covered your mouth as you coughed into your hand. You weren't getting out of answering this apparently. It didn't help that it seemed both Foggy and Matt were glancing at your table as you sputtered on the beer, both of them shooting you curious and questioning looks. Across the table, Karen continued to smile innocently back at you as she waited for you to recover.

A few moments later you did, trying to wipe your now clammy hands on the thighs of your dress pants. Your eyes dropped down to the sticky wooden table as you thought about how to answer. Surely she wouldn't believe you if you said no considering the knowing look she was currently giving you. And if you answered truthfully but quietly there was no way Matt should be able to overhear the conversation at least. Right?

At the thought of him, your eyes nervously darted over to the pool table. Matt was lining up a shot, bent in half over the table and angling the cue in his hands.

“It's sort of hard not to like him like that,” you replied softly, eyes still lingering on him. “I mean he's…sweet. And funny. And incredibly smart and self-assured. Confident. Obviously very handsome. But I mean he's…”

Your voice trailed off, your attention still on Matt as he remained bent over the pool table. Brows lightly furrowing, it seemed like he was taking longer than usual to make his shot. A glance at Foggy beside him had you thinking he'd noticed it, too. Briefly you wondered what he was doing until Karen’s voice broke through your thoughts.

“He's what?” she pressed.

Sighing, your attention returned to your almost empty bottle of beer. Unclasping a hand from your lap, you reached out and grabbed the neck of the bottle. You shrugged lightly, unable to meet her gaze.

“Too far out of my league,” you muttered.

Drawing the bottle up to your lips, you finished the last of the beer. As you lowered the empty bottle back to the table, swallowing down your drink, you spotted Karen shooting Foggy a look. You couldn't possibly have been imagining it now, clearly they were up to something. But before you could figure out what, Karen spun back around in her seat and shot you a bright smile.

“Look at that, you already finished your drink. How about I get the next round of drinks before we continue this conversation?” she offered.

She quickly pushed her chair back before you could reply, her attention focusing on Matt and Foggy. Eyebrows drawing together, a nervous feeling swirled in your stomach, mingling with the alcohol.

“You boys need another round of beers?” Karen called over to them. “On me this time, in honor of our win earlier today?”

Matt's head tilted a bit to the side as he focused on her. “Oh, I don't–”

“Of course!” Foggy exclaimed loudly, cutting Matt off as he clapped him on the shoulder. “And you know what? I'll come with and help you grab them.”

Before you even knew what was happening, Foggy was waving you over enthusiastically with a hand. That nervous feeling only grew in your stomach when Karen turned, glancing over her shoulder at you with that bright smile that was clearly meant to be hiding something as Foggy called out your name.

“Why don’t you come keep Matt company?” Foggy suggested. “And you know, make sure he doesn't cheat to win this game while I'm gone.”

Matt audibly scoffed, shaking his head and countering the accusation immediately. But you weren't paying too much attention to their playful banter as you awkwardly rose to your feet and began making your way over towards Matt. Instead, your eyes were occasionally darting up and eyeing that damn bit of mistletoe that Matt was once again standing directly beneath. Which was why you intentionally came to a stop at the corner of the pool table, trying to keep some distance between you, Matt, and that little bit of mistletoe.

Though what you hadn't accounted for was Karen stumbling in her heels behind you and accidentally bumping into you, pushing you the few steps forward where you tripped directly into Matt. His hands swiftly darted out and grabbed onto your upper arms, steadying you as you tried to catch your balance. And when you finally did, you abruptly realized your own hands had flown to Matt’s very firm, solid chest to stop your fall. Your face flamed from embarrassment and you quickly withdrew them from him, crossing them over your chest awkwardly. But Matt's hands remained on your arms, keeping you close as the warmth of them seeped through the sleeves of your blouse.

“I am so sorry,” Karen suddenly began apologizing behind you. “My heel must've caught on something along the floor. I didn't mean to do that!”

“It's alright,” you replied, your face still burning as you gazed at the handsome face before you. “But uh, sorry for accidentally running into you, Matt.”

His hands slowly began to release their hold on you, that charming smile returning to his face as he remained focused on you. With how close you were standing to him, you could feel your heart slamming harder in your chest. He was just so unfairly attractive.

“Don't worry about it, sweetheart,” he assured you.

For a moment you stood there staring back at Matt's smiling face, almost feeling mesmerized by the expression on it. But a loud gasp from just beside Matt broke you out of your staring and caused you to glance over his shoulder at Foggy. Your pulse jumped when you caught him pointing a finger at the mistletoe hanging directly above Matt and yourself. Before you had a chance to move, finally remembering that you'd been trying to avoid the damn thing, the words were already coming out of his mouth.

“It appears you and Matt have found yourself beneath some mistletoe!” Foggy exclaimed.

Before you, Matt's head cocked to the side as his brows drew beneath his dark lenses. For some reason the smile on his face only grew wider as his covered gaze remained fixed on you.

“We have?” Matt asked curiously.

“Oh, yes!” Karen added from your other side, pointing a finger up at the branch hanging from the ceiling. “Foggy’s right!”

A light laugh slipped out of Matt, the warmth of it raising goosebumps along your arms as you felt rooted to the spot in front of him. You weren't sure if you should move or not; whether you should attempt to run away and come up with some excuse as to why he didn't need to kiss you. But it didn't help that part of you was hoping he'd somehow want to kiss you.

“I find it quite interesting that our dear Josie would put up mistletoe in her bar,” Matt mused aloud. “She doesn't seem the type.”

“Well either way,” Foggy cut in with an awkward laugh, “it's there! And you're both standing beneath it! So you know what that means! I mean it is tradition after all.”

Eyes growing wide, you openly gaped at Foggy and Karen as she came to stand beside him, a glint of something reflecting back at you in her eyes. Your lips parted as a rush of questions raced through your mind. Had they been the ones to put up the mistletoe? Were they doing it to get you and Matt to kiss? And if that was why they'd been acting so strange tonight– why ? Why would they want you two to kiss?

The sound of Matt clearing his throat brought you back to the moment. Your mouth was still hanging open as you focused back on him, noticing the almost nervous smile now spread on his face. Why did he look nervous?

“Fog uh…has a point,” Matt said, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “It is tradition for two people to kiss underneath mistletoe.”

You could feel your pulse jumping in your throat at his words as behind him you noticed Foggy and Karen quietly making their way over to the bar, leaving you alone with Matt. As your gaze fell back on him before you, your mouth opened and closed a few times while you struggled to form a coherent sentence until one suddenly blurted out of you.

“You want to kiss me?”

Your eyes instantly grew somehow wider at the question, your hand flying over your mouth to keep any further stupid thoughts from coming out of it. An adorable grin tugged at Matt's lips at your question, a small chuckle slipping out of him. Behind your hand, your teeth clamped down onto your bottom lip in sheer embarrassment.

“Well, if we're being honest,” Matt began, one hand readjusting the glasses on his nose, “then I should admit I've wanted to kiss you for weeks now. The mistletoe is just…oddly convenient.”

Swallowing hard, you tried to control your breathing which had begun to come in shallower at his confession. He'd wanted to kiss you for weeks now? That fact had your heart hammering heavily in your chest as nerves raced through your body. You could feel your stomach flipping anxiously as you stood there entirely unsure how to respond.

“But we uh, we certainly don't have to,” Matt said slowly, breaking the silence that had fallen between the pair of you. “I don't want to make you uncomfortable and ruin things between us.”

Feeling your opportunity to let him know how you felt slipping away, your hand flew from your mouth, hovering in the air between the pair of you as a loud ‘no!’ flew from your lips. The way Matt tilted his head at you, his brows rising up on his forehead as that grin returned to his face, had your cheeks once more burning tonight. But you couldn't let this moment slip past your fingers, not with how long you'd been thinking about it.

“I'd like to,” you admitted awkwardly. “I mean I–I’ve wanted to–to kiss you, too.” You paused when the grin on his face grew wider, your stomach somersaulting at the sight. “Because I…I kind of have a crush on you…”

“Yeah?” he asked, head still canted to the side. “That's fortunate for me since I have a crush on you.”

“Seriously?” you whispered in disbelief.

Matt nodded, that boyish and charming grin growing ever wider on his lips. The lips you suddenly couldn't seem to take your eyes off of.

“Mhmm,” he hummed out.

“I never knew…” you murmured, voice trailing off.

As you stood there trying to wrap your head around what he'd told you, Matt took a step closer towards you, closing the small bit of space. He reached around you, his arm almost grazing yours as he leant his pool cue up against the table.

“So about that mistletoe,” Matt mused, lightly placing his hands on your upper arms again as he leaned towards you, causing your heart to skip. “We should…probably kiss, right?”

Your eyelids fluttered as you stared back at him, your breath catching in your throat with every inch he seemed to be drawing nearer to you. It was taking your brain far too long to comprehend what was happening, let alone to form much of a response besides the quiet ‘yes’ that slipped out of you.

Matt's right hand released your arm and instead came up to cup your cheek. Gingerly he tilted your head, bringing your mouth in towards his as he finally closed the last remaining distance between the pair of you. The moment his lips touched yours, your eyes snapped shut.

At first his lips merely brushed against yours in a warm, gentle graze. The feeling sent a rush of excitement through your entire body as your hands flew up, gripping both of his muscular arms to steady yourself. He pulled back only a fraction from you before your lips were chasing after his, desperate for more than that soft, teasing touch.

He obliged instantly as if he knew–or had maybe heard the faint whimper of protest you'd made–and dove back forward again, connecting his mouth to yours with a bit more tenacity than before. His hand cupping your cheek held you more firmly to him as his plush lips passionately moved against yours in a way that left you gasping for air in the brief moments your mouths parted before inevitably connecting again.

For a while neither of you seemed able to tear yourself away from the other, entirely oblivious to the entire bar around the pair of you. Your fingers had curled around the fabric of his dress shirt, gripping tight as you tried to hold yourself up. It felt like you were losing yourself entirely in Matt the longer the pair of you kissed and if you let go, you were afraid you might actually lose your balance.

Which was why it took you a minute to regain your composure when Matt finally broke the kiss. He only moved back a few inches from your face, his warm breath brushing gently over your lips as they remained parted. It was a moment before your eyelids fluttered open, taking in the sight of his smiling face before you. His lips seemed pinker as they glistened with both your saliva, the thought of which had a heat building low inside of you.

“Can I maybe walk you home tonight?” he whispered.

“Yes,” you replied automatically.

“And can I take you to dinner on Friday night?” he asked next. “Would that be alright?”

You nodded slowly, your eyes focused on his beautiful mouth. “Yes,” you whispered back.

Matt's smile grew a little wider as his thumb brushed along your cheekbone. Your whole body felt like it was trembling now, your legs fighting not to give out beneath you. Your hands tightened further on his dress shirt, wrinkling the material.

“And can I kiss you again?” he questioned.

You nodded again, this time more enthusiastically. “Please,” you breathed out.

An amused chuckle slipped out of him as he leaned forward towards you once more. Out of the corner of your eye, just before you'd closed them again, you swore you saw Karen and Foggy exchanging a high five at the bar. But you forgot about that the moment Matt's lips were back on yours, kissing you more fervently than before as he backed you up against the pool table behind you.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #holiday fluff #daredevil

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devilw-rites · 3 months ago

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Overstimulation

Tags: sub!Matt Murdock x mommydom!Reader, Reader is being mean and overstimming Matt, Matt is being a subby little baby about it. (724 words, read it on ao3!)

In the courtroom, Matt Murdock was in complete control. The attention of the jury hung on every word he uttered, every gesture he made. On the surface, he's the epitome of domination. In the isolation of your bedroom, he falls apart for you.

“F-Fuck, please, can't take anymore, mommy,” he hisses through his grit teeth. The sheets are whiteknuckled in his hands as he fights the urge to push you away from him. He'd already cum twice, but you showed no signs of stopping.

With a light pop from your lips, you pull your mouth off of his cock. “Mommy's not done tasting you, sweet boy,” you tease in reply, your hand stroking his already spent cock as you speak. “Can you take a little more for me like a good boy?”

Before Matt can reply, you dip your head back down and stroke your tongue against his frenulum. This sends his hips bucking up, a desperate attempt to limit the overwhelming sensation. You sigh at him and shove his hips down, your fingers leaving light bruises from your grip.

“Ah! I'm sorry, mommy! 'm sorry!” Matt gasps out, terrified that he's pushed too far and might get punished. “I'll be your good boy, promise, I'll take it all.”

You bite your lip to hold back your grin, absolutely in awe at how cute he gets when he's pathetically begging for your forgiveness. You kiss his sticky tip and his cock twitches.

“That's it, there's the obedient boy your mommy loves. Now stay still,” you instruct, and once again, your tongue finds its way against Matt's cock.

It's impossible, of course, for Matt to stay still with how sensitive, and borderline in pain, his cock was from your endless torture. You settle for keeping his hips pinned against the mattress as your tongue travels down to his balls. A pathetic whimper rips out of his throat when you roll them around on your tongue, his cock twitching uncontrollable against your face.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck I can't, 'm gonna cum, Mommy please–” Matt cries out. His entire upper body is shaking from the strength it's taking to keep his hands to himself.

You hum in acknowledgement. Pulling away just long enough to lick the spit from your lips, your mouth quickly finds it way back around your sweet boy's cock. It throbs against your tongue as you bob your head up and down, humming ever so frequently in the way you know he likes.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck, cumming, I'm cumming, fuck please I can't– fuck!” Matt's entire body jolts with a moan, curling in on himself. His hands fly to your hair as he pushes you down and his cock twitches in your mouth. He's whimpering and whining through his entire orgasm. It's dry, only a little dribble of cum spurting its way down your throat.

You give a few final licks to Matt's cock, the poor man so spent he can barely muster a few shivers in response. When you finally let it fall from your mouth, it lands in a big, wet mess on his tummy, quickly going soft.

“You did so good, baby, you were perfect, such a good boy for your mommy. Are you okay? How's my angel doing?” You immediately begin doting on him, helping him stretch back up from his curled position and rubbing the–no doubt sore–muscles in his arms.

Matt takes a minute to clear his throat, a croaky cough coming out before he speaks. “I'm okay, mommy, promise,” he slurs out. His eyelids are droopy and his eyes cloudy with subspace.

“Aww, that's good!” You coo at him. You push back his ruffled hair and kiss his forehead. “Not too much?”

He grins and shakes his head, “No, it was perfect. Thank you for making me feel so good, mommy.”

If your heart wasn't already exploding and your brain melting, it certainly was now. You hold one of his hands in yours and give it about a million squeezes.

“How about we get you cleaned up? We can listen to that podcast you're going crazy over,” you offer to him.

“Yes, please,” he hums, slowly sitting up with your help. He holds onto you tightly as he stands, and the two of you go to the bathroom for showers and murder mysteries.

#sub!matt murdock x dom!reader #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #sub!matt murdock #sub matt murdock #sub matt murdock x reader #sub matt murdock x dom reader #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x reader smut #my writing

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starkenobi · 19 days ago

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Demonic Domination | MASTERLIST

masterlist

Sumary: Y/N doesn't classify herself as a vigilante or, as people on the internet say, an antihero. No, she's just an occult detective with a fucking amnesia trying to create a new life beyond her secret mutant status. At first, she really tried to keep a normal civilian life, but it's difficult when you're rescued from a dark place by a man dressed as a mummy ninja calling himself Moon Knight. So, anyway, working as an occult detective makes her travel around the world, and it's cool because it gives her a lot of stories... Until her feet touch New York's ground. It's all downhill from there.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader; Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader.

Warnings: +18 romance; angst; fluff; smut; violence; torture; gore; cursing; pseudo harem; not following 100% mcu events; feelings. English isn't my first language, so please be kind. chapters have their own warnings, too, for safety.

MAIN STORY CHAPTERS (coming january)

Prologue [off the record]

1] Lo Hecho Esta Hecho | on a rainy night, y/n is rescued by moon knight, and for a while, london becomes her home. but no one can really escape fate, not when your former lover is death herself.

2] Nuns on Cocaine | maybe traveling around the world solving cases and dealing with cryptids isn't that bad, unfortunately someone decided that was a great idea to play around with the occult and scientific shit, now y/n needs to clean some superheroes' mess.

3] Boss Bitch | y/n isn't one to be intimidated. yes, her memory is shit and she can't really explain her knowledge, but she knows how things go. she can deal with vigilantes, their work similar to hers, there's no glamour or riches. but fuck superheroes and their super shit, y'know? even if they're hot and gorgeous as fuck.

4] Voulez-Vous? | there's an expectation in the air, a tension that's not only about want or need. of course, there's a fricking bomb and a targed on her back. if only she could remember why. at least she has the devil on her side.

5] Seal It With a Kiss | a crush, a casual fling, a passionate night, a you're made for me, a can't lose you now, a maybe im already falling in love. but y/n will deny it till the end. she's not going soft. she'll lie through her teeth, but a promise is a promise, even if you don't say the words out loud.

6] Murder On The Dance Floor | she should have seen it coming. of course, nothing is that simple. she's not jealous of their past, but she can't ignore the feeling of trying to keep up with them. she's stuck in the middle. now isn't fun anymore.

7] People Disappear Here | she knows every one of them has a terrible past (and ghosts), but this chaotic dirty nightmare is hers, so fuck it. she's going swinging it like the devil. maybe it's time to finally be the boring grown-up.

8] No Good Deed Goes Unpunished | her past officially came like a wrecking ball, nowhere to run or hide. with her memories back, she wishes everything was different. and then there's the most important question: how much does a life cost? she doesn't know, she can't fucking die.

EXTRAS:

moodboards: y/n | natasha romanoff | bucky barnes | matt murdock

characters list: moon knight boys; tony stark; clint barton; steve rogers; frank castle; wade wilson; bruce banner; logan; kate bishop; yelena belova; maria hill; fury; thor; scott lang; wanda maximoff; pepper potts; peter parker; stephen strange.

#natasha romanoff x reader #bucky barnes x reader #matt murdock x reader #black widow x reader #winter soldier x reader #daredevil x reader #marvel reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mutant!reader #bisexual characters #moon knight x reader #tony stark x reader #y/n constantine #starkenobi writing #demonic domination

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foxmurdock · 1 month ago

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RUB YOUR SWITCHY FEMDOM HANDS ALL OVER HIM GET HIS ASS

Oh man, I haven't posted any of my writing in forever, but I'll do it for you, anon! I've been sitting on this for weeks and didn't know how to end it, but I hope you like it.

Matt Murdock x Fem Reader. Just some horny femdom.

Word count: 900

You can be a menace, even you've got to admit it to yourself.

You've been teasing him for a week straight, with carefully calculated touches in his most sensitive areas. Your delicate fingers stroking along his abdomen, his thighs, and the nape of his neck at every opportunity. Waking him up with devious heavy petting, just enough to let him reach the very edge of being late, then sending him off to work with lingering, hungry kisses. You give Matt enough time to get to the office, waiting for his super senses to not be focused on you before your hand slips down between your thighs and you begin to flood his bedroom with the scent of your arousal, leaving traces for him to scent out later.

You continue this pattern even when you both come home from work. Matt is already a very tactile person, meaning there's already constant touching when you're together, so you amp it up from the normal casual intimacy to something subtly hungry and heated, lavishing him with affection after leaving him worked up and aching with need all day.

Truly you can't help it sometimes.

Matt is just so sensitive, and your whole demeanor lights up with an eager curiosity, a ravenous wonder each time you get to see and experience his responses.

Luckily for you, your boyfriend gets just as much enjoyment out of all this as you do. Each time Matt succumbs to your taunting it's different. While some days he melts easily into your warm touch with groans of blessed relief, happy to let you take over and turn off his brain for a little while, other times you have to really work at it from every angle to earn his submission, with Matt's stubborn defiance butting up against your insatiable need to tease. But either way he ends up enjoying the final result and it does nothing but fuel your desire to do it all over again.

You can see how much he enjoys it, even now. The solid outline of the bulge in his sweatpants twitched every few seconds, with a small wet spot forming on the fabric. You make a soft delighted sound at the sight, and Matt echoes a moan in response, the muffled vibration of it from between your thighs causing a looping of arousal that you're both caught in.

Matt is laid out on his back in bed, shirtless and slowly writhing beneath you. You're straddling his head, facing away, with your thighs smothered over his face as he mindlessly licks and laps at your dripping cunt.

You shiver as Matt's stubble rubs against the delicate skin of your inner thighs, making your grip on both of his wrists tighten. You have them pinned to his chest like reins to help you keep stable while you rock your hips and grind against his talented tongue, causing high-pitched whines of pleasure to fall from your lips.

“So good, Matty, such a good boy.” You pant out, and your teeth flash in a wicked grin when his cock twitches in response to your breathy praise.

You haven't touched him yet, and honestly, as much as you love playing with his cock, you aren't going to this time. Your absolute favorite thing is to work Matt up so much that he comes untouched and today you're hungry for it. It's the goal you've set for today and judging by the sounds Matt is making beneath you, along with the desperate rut of his hips up into the open air, you just might get your way.

The slide and swirl of his tongue against your clit makes your eyes flutter, a low moan sliding up your throat, followed by more praise for him.

“Love putting that pretty mouth of yours to work.” You pant.

The rocking of your hips picks up speed as you move in tandem with his tongue, using him to chase your climax. Matt moans again, the sound rumbling through his chest, and his hips buck, getting pleasure just from being used. You want to reach out and drag your nails up his twitching abdomen, but you have to keep his wrists pinned so he doesn't try to shove his hands down his pants and stroke himself. Not that you could stop him if he really wanted to. Matt is infinitely stronger than you, so he could easily break your grasp. It's the symbolic act of willing submission to your control that makes you dizzy with want and arousal.

Matt groans, the outline of his cock twitching in response to your body, lapping up your arousal as it drips out of you, further coating his mouth and jaw in a shiny slick mess. His arms jerk under your grasp, and you can feel his head tilt back slightly to gasp for air, with his warm breath puffing against your inner thighs.

“Please-” You hear Matt start to whine, but you plop yourself back over his face with a huff.

“It's rude to talk with your mouth full.” You chide him, smiling when he latches his lips back around your clit with a low whimper.

“You know what I want, Matty.” You sigh, gripping his wrists tighter as you begin to grind down on his face with greater gusto, releasing little soft moans between your words.

“Don't let all my time conditioning you this week go to waste.” You command around a drawn out moan.

“Let me see you come in your pants like the dumb, horny mutt you are.” You murmur, smiling wide in satisfaction as Matt's stomach spasms, and the wet patch on his crotch spreads.

Your lovely boyfriend is just so sensitive, after all, and you're too much of a menace to not have your fun with it.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock smut #I'm pretty rusty on writing fic #And I haven't posted any since like 2012 #so please forgive any mistakes #Matt is the strongest muse ive had in years #when you prefer angst but the first thing you post in over a decade is smut #Fox's Fics

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 3 months ago

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late night matty thought!!!

college! matt trying to be a gentleman the whole night at this busy, shitty, loud bar that’s super cheap that all the frats go to… but he can’t help himself. he knows you from a friend of a friend, and he’s had lab with you sometimes/ you’re so sweet and innocent and kind to everyone, especially him and it drives him crazy. but he’s liked you from a distance and you didn’t think anything of it when he bought you a drink, and his soft and warm hands started to massage your shoulders and back as you sit on the barstool as you get tipsy and ramble about how stressed you are with classes and work. and you lean into his touch and talk with him the whole night, and he’s so nerdy but sly and flirty and makes you feel like a princess as he keeps buying you drinks and letting you dance for him. soon he can’t take it anymore, his hormones get the best of him, and his hands linger longer then they were before, exploring other places when the lights were dimmed. and then you end up in a bathroom with him, the door locked and you can hear the loud music blaring over your moans as he messily pounds into you as you’re bent over the sink and he presses your face into the mirror and smudges ur makeup:( but he’s sooo nice. “fuck, fuck baby i wanted to be such a gentleman. i wanted to wait and get you a nice meal before i fucked your tight little cunt.” “but you bought me a drink! you’re so kind matty..” you moaned as he continued to pound harder, smacking ur ass from ur flipped up skirt. cause you wore it just to tempt him. and he cooes at you cause you’re so adorable.. like “awh baby just a drink isn’t enough for this sweet pussy. you can’t be that easy baby.” “but i like you matty! and you’re so good…” you hiccup as his balls slap against your skin, wetness sounds squelching as you drip down your thighs. “you’re such a sweet girl, so kind. you need someone to take care of you, yeah?” he asked, hand sliding up to grip your neck, forcing you to look in the mirror at him. “yes..” he somehow managed to be so gentle but just mean enough to drive you wild. a slight difference from the gentleman you were talking to earlier, who cocooned you from the dirty frat boys who were trying to get with you and feel you up. but he wanted you all to himself….

matt murdock if you can hear us please save us

#claire’s thoughts #claire’s matt murdock diary entry #helloooo #matt murdock series #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #daredevil x you #daredevil fluff #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock smut #matthew murdock fanfic #matthew murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fanfiction

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to-thelakes · 10 months ago

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exhausted

pairing; frank castle x fem!reader (mentions of matt murdock)

summary; after you lose your cool at matt and frank, frank comes to see you and helps you get some much-needed rest

warnings; initial angst, a smidge of hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic frank castle, soft frank castle, exhausted reader, insomniac reader, discussion of nightmares

notes; this one-shot is an oldie but a goodie, i keep reading back and looking at some one-shots i've previously written and i think this one is good enough that i can share it with the world, i wrote it initially with sharing it in mind so i might as well do it! also this one-shot thingie was inspired by a one-shot i saw here on tumblr, the beginning of this is pretty similar to the one i read so if anyone knows what fic i'm referencing, i'd love to be able to credit who inspired this! otherwise, this is just some comforting frank content because i am an avid insomniac and sometimes you just need the big scary punisher to help you fall asleep

masterlist

You weren’t entirely sure how it had happened but at some point between knowing Matt and Frank, you had become their nurse. Of course, you didn’t particularly mind. Matt had always been kind to you and you enjoyed his company. He was a little flirty but you were used to it and you could lament in your misery with him.

With Frank, he had saved you from some criminals months ago and you had been freaking out. He did his best to calm you down before walking you home and after a particularly bad night, Matt brought Frank to you to patch up. Honestly, you didn’t mind their company and you didn’t mind patching them up.

Ever since you’d moved on from being a Nurse, you’d refound your passion for caring for people but only if it was Frank or Matt. But you also hated taking care of them. Despite having a relatively normal life and sleep schedule compared to when you were a nurse, you were still woken up in the middle of the night by them.

It had been a quiet night for you. You’d finished work and curled up on your bed to drift off and you had. It had been a blissful sleep until you were rudely awoken by your phone ringing. You wanted to tell whoever it was to leave you the fuck alone but when you saw it was Matt, you answered. He asked if you could come over and help patch Frank and him up.

You - reluctantly - agreed since he was only a block over. You didn’t want them bloody up your apartment and so with a great huff, you got out of bed. You changed into comfortable clothes and then grabbed your kit for nights like these and headed to Matt’s place.

Getting in wasn’t hard even in your exhausted and sleepy daze. You managed to find your way up to the fire escape where the two men were sitting. Well, Frank was sat, leaning against the vent, cradling a wound while Matt stood. He was pacing in his Daredevil costume and he looked frustrated. It was practically radiating off of him.

They both looked pretty bruised and yet, they were still arguing. It took you a minute to catch on to the conversation but the second you did you sighed.

“You gotta let me do my shit, altar boy. I don’t give a shit what you can sense, I know what I’m doing and we would have been fine if you hadn’t stopped me from doing my goddamn job,” Frank raged as he stared up at Matt. His hand was pressed against the wound on his side and yet his jaw still flexed with obvious annoyance.

“If you had just listened to me then we would have been fine! You never listen, I can hear more than you can. I can hear their guns, Frank. If you had just shut your damn mouth for one goddamn second, it would have been fine!” Matt snapped in response. His annoyance was radiating off of him and you just looked between them. You weren’t entirely convinced that even of them had realised you were there but you knew Matt could smell you.

“I listen fucking plenty. I knew what I was getting my sorry ass into but you just have to be the fucking saviour, don’t you Red? Always a hero,” Frank scoffed. His tone was scathing and he winced when the pain only seemed to get worse. The irritation that Matt waking you up had began only seemed to grow as you listened to them continue to bicker back and forth about who was right and who was responsible for Frank’s wound. And why Red just couldn’t have listened to Frank for one goddamn minute.

It was probably five minutes of bickering and you had finally had enough. You dropped your kit bag onto the floor and suddenly, both of their attentions snapped to you.

“You are both so insufferable!” You snapped suddenly, glaring between the two men, “I get my ass out of bed after working all fucking day for you two to be bickering like three-year-olds over something that doesn’t fucking matter anymore. Take my shit and patch yourself up. I’m done with this.” Your anger only seemed to grow and you watched as both Matt and Frank’s face fell. You stepped back from the pair of them, “Ungrateful bastards,” You muttered as you headed back to the fire escape and towards Matt’s apartment.

“Hey(!), sweetheart,” Frank’s voice made you pause in your steps. If his next words weren’t an apology, you were going to scream, “Don’t gotta be so fucking moody. Didn’t even see ya.” That was it and you turned on your heel to face them again.

“I couldn’t give a shit if you didn’t see me Frank. I know sure as hell that Matt could smell me before I even got onto the fucking roof. And I’m sure his senses will tell him that I haven’t showered in three days because I’ve been so busy with my new fucking workload that I have barely had the chance to take care of myself. This is the first evening that I haven’t had to work late for my asshole boss and I finally managed to get some sleep until you assholes had to wake me up because you can never work together! I honestly don’t care what happens to you next time. If one of you gets bloody and bruised, don’t fucking call me. Lose my number, both of you.” And with that final word, you walked off the roof and down to Matt’s apartment. You felt like crying, the irritation had seeped into frustration and the tears were blurring your vision as you pulled the apartment door open.

“Sweetheart,” Matt’s voice was so soft as he rushed over to you in the doorway. Your head snapped up so that he could look at you or you assumed he was, you could tell where he was looking with that stupid mask on, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called,” Matt’s voice had softened significantly as he was looking at you.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” You bit back. Matt’s lips turned down into a frown. He suddenly had no idea what to say. He had never seen you like this. Even when you were stressed and overworked as a nurse, you always had this sunny disposition to everything that you did. This was new, he hated it because he knew it was his fault.

“Please, how can I fix this?” Matt asked and you rolled your eyes. The apartment door still open in front of you.

“I told you, lose my number,” You snapped. Matt frowned but before he could even say anything, you were gone. He let out a frustrated huff and he listened as you walked to the elevator and disappeared down to street-level. He didn’t know what to do now.

The weekend eventually rolled around and you were relaxing for the first time in a very long time. You were curled up on the couch, watching trash TV with a pizza from your favourite take-out on the coffee table. It was the ideal day.

Well, that was until you heard a knock at your apartment door. A soft huff escaped your lips and you unfurled yourself from your cocoon of blankets to answer it. When you pulled the door open, the last person you expected stood on the other side. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in Frank Castle in all his broad glory with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Your favourite flowers no doubt. You didn’t even know what to say.

“Ya said don’t call,” Frank began and then he held out the flowers, “So I came over instead.” There was a slight softness to his words and it made you let out a soft chuckle. You shook your head but took the bouquet from his hands.

“Thank you,” You mumbled before gesturing for him to come in. The trashy TV show you had on was playing as you grabbed a vase from under the sink and ripped the wrapping from around the flowers. You then grabbed some scissors from the drawer and Frank watched as you snipped the ends at a diagonal and placed them into the water before adding the packet of food.

“M’sorry about the other night,” Frank said after a few beats of silence. You shrugged and rearranged the flowers and when you were happy enough with them, you took them over to the windowsill to replace the faux flowers you had put there weeks ago, “I really appreciate everything’ ya do for me,” He said as he watched you move. You shrugged and wrapped your arms around yourself, moving to sit down on your sofa. You didn’t want to have this conversation.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” You said firmly. Frank sighed and he glanced at the door, not sure whether you wanted him to leave or stay. You glanced back at him expectantly and so he walked over, sitting down on the couch beside you. You grabbed a slice of pizza and offered it to him. He found himself smiling as he took it from your hands.

“M’really sorry, I didn’t-” But before Frank could get any further you put your hand up to silence him. Then your gaze turned on him and he looked back at you.

“Frank, I seriously don’t wanna think about it. Just eat your pizza and shut up,” You told him as you reached out for another slice for yourself. He grunted in response and you seemed pleased with that. You shuffled back, pulling blankets over your shoulder with your free hand before you took a bite out of the pizza. Frank was sitting on one of the blankets on the sofa but you didn’t bother to say anything as you ate.

Your gaze was fixed on the TV. There was about to be an elimination from the show and although you didn’t care for many of the contestants, there was one guy that you wanted to get kicked out. He had the most infuriating personality and had treated every girl like an object since he had been introduced. He rubbed you the wrong way and so, you watched with bated breath to see if he would finally be kicked out.

And he was. Frank noticed the victorious grin on your face as he leaned over for another slice of pizza. You let him grab it as you finished your slice off. Then you shuffled on the sofa and adjusted the blankets around your shoulder again.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” You broke the silence between the pair of you. The sound of the TV was the only thing that was filling the air until that.

He glanced over at you before he shook his head, letting out a grunt of disagreement. You nodded and then pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulder, “I’ve had a really stressful week at work, I’ve not been sleeping well and I thought that when I quit my job at Metro General my late nights would end. That I would be able to sleep properly again. But you and Matt changed that and I don’t mind. I usually don’t mind at all but this week, I just- I couldn’t do it. I had dragged myself out of sleep which I had barely been able to get into and then you both just bickered. And I really don’t mind helping either of you. I like helping you both but I just can’t do it right now.”

You were rambling, you knew you were rambling but you felt like Frank deserved an explanation. He was injured and you had left him to be stitched up by Matt. It felt cruel but you were also exhausted. Not even by them, just by life.

“You don’t gotta explain,” Frank said after a beat. You looked up at him, he had a sorrowful look on his face. It was almost guilty-looking and you didn’t want him to feel guilty. A soft huff escaped your lips as you ran your fingers across your face.

“No, I do because I didn’t have to blow up at you guys. I didn’t have to be so rude. I could have just left but I made a scene and it wa-” Frank cut you off before you got a chance to finish your sentence.

“Ya had every right to shout. We dragged you outta bed for somethin’ that we coulda handled on our own. You were angry and shit, I woulda said worse. You can’t bottle that shit up, you know?” He responded as he looked down at you. You let out a soft sigh, running your fingers through your hair. You didn’t know what to even say.

“I’m just so tired, Frank,” You mumbled. It had been weighing on you all week and it was the first time you had let yourself admit it. You were so exhausted. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. The tension in the room seemed to increase tenfold at the submission and Frank was silently observing you as you reached for a pizza slice, hoping to distract your exhaustion-addled mind. It was too much.

“Lie down for a bit, yeah?” He said and you looked up at him, confusion etched across your features. Almost bemused by his words.

“I’ve tried that Frank. Plus, it’s too early,” You mumbled before you took a bite of your pizza. He shook his head and closed the pizza box on the coffee table. He then reached for the TV remote and he switched it off.

“Nah, enough of this shit. We’re gonna lie down and I’ll make sure you get some goddamn sleep. alright?” There was no room to argue with him and as he stood up, looming above you, you weren’t entirely sure you had the bravery to. So, you simply nodded your head. You placed the half-eaten pizza slice into the box and then got to your feet, leaving your cocoon of blankets on the sofa so you could go to bed, “You gonna brush your teeth?” He asked. You nodded your head. Even though you had just eaten, you had to make sure that they were brushed before you went to bed and so, Frank lingered in the doorway as you brushed your teeth, “Red’s gonna give you shit when he finds out about this, sweetheart,” Frank commented off-handedly. You spat some toothpaste into the sink before you glanced over at him.

“He can smell when I last showered, I think he already knows,” You muttered before you finished brushing your teeth. You grabbed the towel and washed the toothpaste off your mouth, washing your mouth out with water before you stepped back. You were already in pyjamas so you were ready for bed.

“Yeah, that’s what he tells ya,” Frank mumbled as you headed towards your bedroom. Frank slipped his boots off at the foot of your bed and discarded his jacket on top of your dresser before he glanced over at you.

“Are you sleeping in the bed too?” You asked tentatively. Frank turned to look at you, cocking an eyebrow.

“That a problem?” He asked curiously. You shook your head and he nodded, “You been gettin’ nightmares?” His question caught you completely off-guard and you just stared at him, dumb-founded from the side of your bed. He huffed out in mild amusement, “You were an ER nurse, gives its own scars,” He shrugged. You sighed and rubbed your hands across your face.

“It’s not nightmares. It’s just not dreams either. I can just hear flatlining and feel blood and I’m running down corridors, plagued by the clean smell of the hospital. It’s sterile and I wake up and I swear I can smell it,” You mumbled, trying your best to explain the experiences. You hated calling them nightmares because nothing scary happened. It was just your feelings and memories of the place you used to love.

“You wake up scared?” He asked as he walked over to the opposite side of the bed. You nodded your head, “Then it’s a nightmare. When did your dirtbag ex break up with you?” You didn’t seem to understand how that correlated but it had been only a month ago. It coincided with the exact time you began to have issues sleeping.

“A month ago. I’ve not been a nurse for months. Why is that relevant?” You asked as you decided to pull the covers back but you didn’t get in.

“You’re sleeping alone, sweetheart. Does things to you especially when you’re not used to,” He stated blankly. It seemed to dawn on you why he knew this and you just stared at him for a moment, not sure whether to apologise or offer sympathy but he didn’t give you a chance, “Now let’s get you some sleep, hm?” You smiled thankfully and slipped under the covers. Frank slipped under them beside you and you pulled them up to your shoulder.

Then you grabbed onto the pillow, adjusting it under your head. Frank was facing you, his hands resting in front of him as yours rested under your head. He watched you adjust and get comfortable before you let out a sigh.

“I always hated sleeping alone,” You mumbled after a moment of silence, “When I was a kid, my little brother would always get nightmares and so we’d sleep in the same bed. Then, by the time he had grown out of that habit, I was old enough that I was going to high school and my parents began to - reluctantly - let my partner stay over. Then, I went to college and I basically spent every night with someone in my bed whether that was a friend or someone I was dating. I never really got used to sleeping alone, I guess.” Although Frank didn’t have the exact same feeling as you as he had slept alone plenty of times while he was on tours, he understood what you meant. After he lost Maria, he found it impossible to sleep alone. The nightmares tormented him. It got better with time but never really truly better. It’s the main reason why he pushed his body to the point of collapse. Then he didn’t have to worry about trying to fall asleep alone. It just happened because his body didn’t give him a choice. You had started to do the same.

“Just try and get some sleep tonight, yeah?” He suggested. You nodded and you let your eyes fall closed. He shifted on the bed before he let his eyes close as well. You sighed and felt your eyes forcing themselves back open. They didn’t want to stay closed and after a few more minutes of desperately trying to keep them closed, you rolled onto your back.

And you stared at the ceiling like you had for so many nights over the past few months. You were never able to sleep, when you woke up from sleep, you just stared. You had memorised every crack in the shitty ceiling and now there was nothing new to look at. You didn’t know what was wrong with you but you hated it.

“Hey,” Frank said softly. It was so quiet that you almost missed it and then you turned your head to the side to look at him, “You gotta tell me what ya need if I’m gonna help,” You knew what you needed but you weren’t about to ask Frank for it. This was already crossing the bounds of your friendship and you felt almost disrespectful even doing this but he seemed insistent. His eyes were burning into the side of your head.

“My ex used to…” You trailed off, not sure whether to say it. Frank grunted in a somewhat encouraging way as he shuffled towards you, “They used to cuddle with me when I couldn’t sleep and they’d… God I can’t ask this of you.” You cut yourself off before you could finish your sentence. Your hands pressed over your face, embarrassment flooding your face in the form of heat crawling up your neck and across your cheeks. This was too much.

“Hey, hey, listen to me,” He brought your hands away from your face and you turned to look at him, meeting his soft gaze, “I don’t give a shit if it’s embarrassing, tell me.” His words were firm and you sighed, taking a deep breath before you turned over onto your side so that you could look at him properly again.

“They’d like hold me against their chest, like my forehead against their chest and then they’d run their fingers across my arm. It just always relaxed me,” You finally admitted. Frank smiled softly, not even caring what you were asking of him. Instead, he shuffled forward on the bed and brought you towards him.

“Come ‘ere,” He mumbled. You shuffled into him and with a tentative breath, you rested your forehead against his chest. One of his hands rested under his head while the other moved to rest against the back of your arm. He drew you closer and you gave in, letting your body mold against his. His fingers slowly began to trace along the skin on the back of your arm.

A soft breath of relief escaped your lips, the familiar touch cooled your nervous system in seconds. Your eyes fell closed, tension releasing at the movements as you moved your arms around Frank. Your hand draped over his hip as you felt exhaustion return to your body after you had fought it away all day.

“Thank you,” You muttered under your breath. Your voice was slower than before, sleep ready to take you as you relaxed into his hold.

“Sleep well, sweetheart,” He mumbled against your hair as he rested against you. His touch against your skin was the last thing you remembered before the bliss of sleep took you in.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #frank castle x you #frank castle fluff #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x female reader #the punisher fluff #the punisher x reader #reader-insert #matt murdock #daredevil

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importantgalaxyrunaway · 10 months ago

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Sundays (Matt Murdock x reader)

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, religion (they go to church) very very fluffy, husband Matt, this one the poll but new one shot out soon

It was your favorite type of day. A Sunday, because no daredeviling on Sundays. Unless there was something especially serious he heard going on. You shift your weight so that you can shuffle in between his legs looking at your husband. He looks so majestic laying there naked with only a sheet covering his lower half. You weren’t quite modest yourself with only a sheet covering your body as well. Since you both had been just married less than 3 weeks, you were still in the phase where you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. It wasn't always intimacy times. But Matthew would always be there touching you in some comforting way reminding you he was always by your side. Weither it was a hand on your knee or holding hands with him as you were his “sighted guide”. When really he just used that as an excuse to show you off in public. His hand never left yours. Today was one of those days.

he looked like a sleeping angel not daredevil. His chest was cut from marble and an expression of peice was on his face you barely see. Shifting yourself in between his legs closer, bare chests pressing up against each other separated by only a silk sheet. A reminder of the gift he gave you last night. You lean in to him and give a long lingering kiss. It was soft upon his plump rosy lips and his eyes fluttered open. His sightless eyes gaze upon yours and you break the sweet kiss.

“Hello Mrs. Murdock” he says in his sleepy deep morning voice that makes your knees weak.

Hes never missed an opportunity to call you that in the last 3 weeks. You give him another sweet kiss and he hums. His hands stroking your hair. You slip between the silk sheets so that your warm bodies could press up against each other, though there is nothing sexual about it this time you weren’t in the mood you were just affectionate and he could tell. That smile hadn’t left his face since the two of you were married.

“hello my pretty little devil” you scratch underneath his chin and he leans into it making a small noise of pleasure at the gesture.

“hmm. It’s Sunday would like to come to church with me.” He asks still in a happy bliss “I’d rather not go alone”

you think for a bit,. Matthew’s been going through a rough time lately a really hard time. And god, if there wasn’t anything you’d do to please this man. You never want him to have to be alone again. You knew how much his religion meant to him. And church with Matthew is actually quite enjoyable the times you’ve been with him.

“of course I’ll go with you my love.” You whispered softly to him. He beams at you in return. That smile that hasn’t left since they had the small wedding. ”you should probably get dressed though. Would be a bit distracting.” he teases in a low chuckle

you crinkle up your nose and tease him back “so should you ‘good-catholic lawyer-boy’”

you rumple his hair before rising from his warm embrace to go to your closet. You find something nice to wear and Matthew goes for his normal suit. As he gets dressed you do admit ok yes you starred at his ass the whole time.

he gives a knowing devilish smirk you know all to well as he buttons up his shirt. You silently mourn the loss of staring at his abs “you know I may be blind sweetheart but i can sense you starring” he says with his signature charm.

“well we’re married now, I’m allowed to look at my husband aren’t I?” You say before light giving his ass a smack. You just couldn’t help yourself.

once the two of you are dressed he looks incredibly handsome even with more clothes on, he starts tapping his cane and each way as you two walk on the sidewalk together. Your hand however finds his and intertwines your other hand resting on his shoulder so you can guide him. Knowing that he trusts you even if it’s partly to keep his cover. He stops, smiles at you practically beaming and folds up his cane. The two of you resume your walk to Clinton church. The weather was incredibly nice, the flowers on the windowsills were blooming and the sun was beaming down. A pleasant breeze made the day just the right temperatures. you know even you could smell the sweetness of spring in the air and you didn’t have enhanced senses. You wonder what it’s like for Matt.

You break the comfortable silence as the two of you walk together. “you smell that? It’s my favorite flower”

“I don’t smell lavender y/n”

“oh you remembered, well yes that is my first favorite flower because of the scent but my second favorite is honeysuckle” you explained as the two of you stroll basking in each other’s company.

“Oh, I love that scent too. But sweetheart it’s an invasive plant.” He chuckles good naturedly. The scent of honeysuckle fills his lungs on this Sunday morning. If Amber thought she could smell the sweetness it was nothing compared to his. The way it weaves around his mind fogging it up with pleasant memories of when y/n would wear her citrus and honeysuckle perfume. It truly is a beautiful day. Nothing seems to be going wrong at the moment there isn’t a crime he hears. Or maybe it’s just in the warmth of y/n’s company the terrible sounds and shrieks of the city were muted. He always seemed calmer in her presence.

“We’re here, Clinton church” you read for him

“and on time” he kissed your joined hands before you both step into the church together. The darkness takes a bit for you to adjust to the light in contrast to the brightness of outside. Not that Matthew would mind, you giggle in your head. It truly is a beautiful place with high ceilings and candles lit, it has stained glass windows with beautifully colored pictures made of glass upon it. Y/n especially appreciated these. The way the sunlight of spring catches the stained glass sending a glow to floor adjacent to it. The difference in materials used creates complex shimmering patterns and shapes. Admiring the way each shard and fragment of glass comes together to make a beautiful story from the Bible. The wooden floors are pretty and there are rows of wooden pews with bibles in the pockets of the seat in front of you. It smells of that distinct church scent that is quite hard to discribe. The best Matthew can do is old wooden oak polished, with the scent of old books the type that are yellowing with age. He suspects these are from the Bible’s. The people played a role into it two he could often sense their perfume or their recent showers. There's also the scent of candles and incense. The incense is one of three smells that is most distinctive out of the melting pot to Matt. There’s a lingering air of smoke from previous services but it’s never too heavy. It’s not like cigarettes smoke at all, one of Matthew’s least favorite scents in the world. Well that was until he had been in an explosion as daredevil. Burning flesh was definitely the worst thing he’s ever sensed. He had to take many showers to get the smell out of his system. But overall he liked the scent and it was familiar to him. He was raised here. Even if he’s strayed so far, or hated his past now. But the scent of Clinton church was strangely calming and comforting to Matthew. You guide him to a pew bench that’s completely empty. You take your seat next to Matt once he’s settled his hand in his lap the other toying with his cane. You notice pleasantly that your seated directly next to a stain glass window. This one depicts baby Moses floating in the river. You particularly like the way the light shines through the glass making it translucent. The water a blue haze.

you find your seat and you take matts hand that’s in his lap, interlocking both your fingers. He brings the your hands up to his lips and gives a long kiss on your hand before resting it in his lap. The service starts shortly after and it only takes an hour, which is good because you can’t sit still for much longer than that. Matthew listens to what the priest says and you can’t but help admire how he looks. Sitting on the bench with his back leaning slightly back and his head up high. Those shoulders that carry the whole weight of this city on them . Intently listening, he leans his head just slightly back, his stunning red glasses perched upon his face. He looks proud almost. How could someone who looks so good be going through so much. Truth be told you were always worried about Matt. Being daredevil takes a tole on his soul. But you’ve been keeping an eye on him making sure he’s okay recently. He holds your hand the entire time. Only breaking when you have to pray but quickly rejoining his hand with yours. His thumbs stroking your hand comfortably.

“should I read to you what we’re saying?” You say wondering how he does this.

“uh no” he chuckles “i can hear them sweetheart”

“oh right” you answer sheepishly. Sometimes you’re still figuring out the extent of his blindness. He rubs your hand more finding the way you want to help endearing. You distinctly feel the cool of his ring on his hand. And you beam with pride. Before you know it the service is over and Matt stands up with you and unfolds his cane and starts tapping it. You wrap your arms around his as you “guide” him. But also in his own way it’s just another way to show you off. Matthew exchanged a few words with father lantom and some of the others before the two of you walked out into the bright spring day. There was not a cloud in the sky. After walking for a while hand and hand. Your golden beautiful rings shining in the sun. Your diamond perfectly sparkling. The consistent tap of Matt’s cane across everything. The silence is comforting and after a while he turns to you.

“thanks you” he says quietly.

your turn to him “for what?”

“for that, staying beside me. You……you don’t know how much it means to someone like me.” He adds sincerely.

you do know how much it means to him. Not many people have stayed with him, loving him unconditionally like you do. And he needs that, Matt needs her love. Her holds your chin delicately and pulls you in for a soft kiss. You sigh into the kiss. A very love sick sigh

once he breaks the kiss he’s smiling again with his beautiful smile. He brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face. “So..” his face still close to you. Red glasses practically glowing in the sun “how’s married life treating you Mrs. Murdock?”

you stroke his hair before speaking also a smile plastered on your face. “I think it suits me very well Mr. Murdock.” And he kissed your hand before continuing tapping his cane and walking on the sidewalk with you.

#fanfic #fanfiction #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #Husband Matt Murdock #daredevil fic #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil x female reader #daredevil #daredevil request #this was the winner of the pole #poll winner #netflix daredevil

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 4 months ago

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weren't we the stars in heaven? | m. murdock

a/n: hi guys. so sorry i haven't posted a full length fic about matt in a while so as a sorry here's a BEAST of a fic. i have nothing much to say about this, but i will say that i am not thrilled with the ending but oh well. enjoy! i'm gonna go take a nap but i am really proud of this so if you guys like it, let me know! warnings: oh boy. so many things. cursing, use of weed, drinking, matt is married but it's an open marriage, lots of religious imagery, sex, rough fucking, unprotected sex, no use of y/n, lowkey some mean matt smut, his kid is autistic but its not mentioned a ton, reader is hard of hearing but its only mentioned once, female reader with female anatomy, age gap, nicknames, ANGST, dirty talk, hella flirting and pining, just. it's a lot. word count: 9.2k (holy moly) summary: you develop a crush on a friend of your dad's from work. the only problem is that he's married, twice your age, and you babysit his son. pairing: dbf!matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: anything - adrianne lenker "lay on your lap when i'm crying/weren't we the stars in heaven?/weren't we the salt in the sea?/dragon in the new warm mountain/didn't you believe me?"

Spring

A week at home is too long. You think about how torturous a whole summer here will be. It’s almost enough to make you sign up to be a summer orientation leader or even a tour leader. Almost. The pay isn’t that good to stay in the dorms without AC all summer.

Of course, your mother asks you to go to church on Easter Sunday and because she did your laundry and cooked you your first home-cooked meal in months, you oblige her.

And as you’re sitting there, on your knees with your hands folded, your eyes peek open, beginning to wander around the church. It’s way too hot in this church, and you are bored out of your mind.

You realize you are the only one who is bored out of your mind. Well.. Almost.

Your gaze catches onto a man who looks just as bored as you do, only, you can’t really tell if he’s looking at you. You lean your head back and roll your eyes, trying to signal how god damn bored you are to him. He just smirks, and your heart flutters.

It almost looks like his smirk widens at that.

Your face flushes and you just put your head back down, closing your eyes as if you’ve been caught doing something you’re not supposed to.

Eventually when the service is over, you’re still thinking about the strange man on the other side of the church as you sip church lemonade that is way too sweet—But you’ve been up for hours and this is the first thing you’ve had since you woke up.

Your parents are making pleasant conversations with various friends they know, and you smile awkwardly at friends from high school. You almost choke on your lemonade when you see the man make his way out of the church, his arm hooked to a woman’s as he taps a cane against the pavement, a young boy next to them as well.

And before you know it, the family of three is approaching your family and your ears are burning red.

Your dad happily shakes his hand and pulls him in for one of those weird man hugs that you don’t really understand, as your mother does one of those weird moves where she presses her cheek against his wives.

Your father gestures over to you and says, “This is our daughter,” And he gives them your name, “She’s home for spring break from school.”

You wave to the kid, before shaking the wife’s hand, and then his— His hand is warm. Your heart is racing and you just shake his hand, trying to ignore the soft squeeze that accompanies the shake.

“Matthew,” He introduces himself like your insides aren’t discombobulated, “Matthew Murdock.” You just look at him, blinking for a second, and your mind begins to wander. How did he know you were rolling your eyes in the church if he’s blind? And how is he so hot?

You think you might die—Your face is flushed, and you think for sure that you’ve been caught, and that his wife will see right through this little charade and knows that you have a huge crush on her husband, whom you just met. He must know what he’s doing because he just smirks at you and opens his mouth to say something, but your mom just looks at you with a look of concern.

“Honey, are you alright?” she asks, “You look warm,” You shake your head with a soft smile.

“No, I’m uh.. Well, I think I’m gonna take a quick walk, find some shade—Excuse me.” You say politely, but before you can leave the conversation, Matt smiles,

“I’ll come with you. I could use the fresh air.” He offers, and you almost say no, but your mom smiles like she’s trying to fucking kill you—

“What a wonderful idea, You can tell Mr. Murdock all about your studies.” She offers, and something in your stomach twists with embarrassment—the way she phrases it makes you sound so.. young. So, you just offer Matt your arm, and he hooks his hand onto it like it’s casual.

And so, the pair of you walk through the courtyard of the church, eventually finding a bench where the sun barely creeps through the leaves of the willow tree that hangs over it, and the pair of you sit down, silence overwhelming you.

“So, what’s your major?”

“Oh, uh—English. I’m an English major.” You say, almost ashamed at how boring you sound, “And.. what do you do?”

“I’m a Lawyer,” he smiles. Your dad is a security guard at the court you have in town, so there’s no question of how they know each other.

“Your wife seems nice,” you blurt out, wanting to say something nicer to convince him—maybe yourself, that you really truly are not jealous of a woman you just met.

“She is,” he answers politely, as if that’s.. the kindest thing he can say about her.

“What’s your son’s name?” You ask curiously.

“Lucas.” He smiles fondly now, and your heart melts at the thought that this man truly feels nothing but pure, burning affection for his son. “When do you go back to school?” He asks curiously.

“Oh, tomorrow.” You smile, “Thank god.”

Then, he catches you off guard.

“That’s the most genuine thing you’ve said since we sat down.” He smirks, “Not a fan of your hometown?”

You don’t know how to explain it, not really—When you were applying to college, your mom asked you if you wanted to apply to any local colleges. And while you’re persistent that there’s nothing wrong with community college, you were sure that you needed to get out of here, or else you think you would’ve died.

But, you owe Matt an explanation.. Well, maybe you don’t, but you think you do.

“It’s not that,” You promise, “There’s just something about being here that brings out the worst in people.” You sigh.

His hand comes up to rest on your shoulder, and while it’s subtle, you notice the way that his thumb rubs against your skin, and you might melt right into him.

“Don’t let anyone ever shame you for leaving.” He offers gently, and you think you just about fall in love with him. Then, his head picks up as the screechy tone of his wife calling for him interrupts your conversation. He just sighs, and makes a bold move—his hand goes to your thigh and gently, just barely, rubs his fingers against the fabric of your sundress, the tips of his fingers teasing your skin. “Well, I’ll.. see you in the summer then?” he ponders.

“Uh-huh..” You say, your eyes soft with want. Then, he walks right out of your life.

Summer

As spring melted into summer, and as you finished the rest of your finals, your dad picks you up from your dorm, packing everything you hold near and dear into his truck, and then starting the drive home.

For the past month and a half, you have heard nothing about Matt or his family. Sometimes, you ask your parents, ‘How’s your job, how’s the church’, begging for any crumbs of information about Matt. And you aren’t even sure why, because in your mind, he is very happily married.

It takes about a week. You sit, day after day, summer job hunting, waiting to be doomed to minimum wage and exhausting hours. Then, your mom comes home with groceries and a smile that you know can only mean bad news.

“I found you a job!” She declares happily, as you put the milk in the fridge.

“In the dairy aisle of the grocery store?” You question, and she laughs.

“No, no, I found you a babysitting job for the summer.” She smiles. “For the Murdocks!”

You squeeze the orange in your hand so hard that your thumbnails pierce it as orange juice drips down your hands, blinking before throwing out the orange, your hand reeking of the tangerine, fingers sticky with sugar.

“I’m sorry?” You manage to squeak out.

“You’re going to be babysitting their son, Lucas. They both work from nine to five, sometimes later. You’d get paid to just hangout with the kid,” She shrugged with a soft smile.

Oh, great. You’re gonna be trapped in the man’s house, looking after his kid. Fucking amazing.

But, you really don’t even see Matt, especially not the first day. Well, really, you barely see him over the course of the first week, but you get whispers of him, and it’s almost worse. You see his graduation photos, his wedding photos, a photo of him holding Lucas in the hospital.

You see his office door cracked open, you see a mug with his name on it, you see his wedding ring on the table—

You see his wedding ring on the table?

He’s elusive. But, from the fragmented sentences you get from Lucas, he tells you how his parents aren’t quite like other couples. Your mind is caught on the fact that Matt and his wife might not be 100 percent happy together, and then you feel guilty that you want to take it as an opportunity to comfort him, in the least Godly way possible.

Matt and Lucas’ mother will be working late tonight, she tells you in the morning, there’s money for dinner on the counter, and you can just relax until they get home.

Lucas drags you all over town that day. The park, the comic bookstore, and then you spend two hours in target, trying to find anything related to Bluey or Cars 2, the only two things he wants to talk about. Your body is sore from looking after him. He’s a very nice kid, but you recognize that he’s.. different.

Nobody in your town has a diagnosis, but you can tell that Lucas is on the spectrum, and you have every intention of telling Matt to get him a diagnosis, so he has the resources he needs to succeed in school.

But, tonight, you’re tired. Very very tired.

So, after putting Lucas to bed and enjoying a slice of semi cold pizza, along with flat diet soda, you find yourself in the backyard. Lucas’ window is open, and you can see the downstairs steps from where you’re sitting, so you’ll be able to see Lucas if he needs anything.

You’re sitting in a patio swing, letting your feet rock you back and forth. Maybe it’s unprofessional of you.. but you scrounge through your bag, finding your pen and turning it on, taking a long hit. You walk to and from work, so it’s not like you won’t be able to drive yourself home.

Then, you see Matt come in, and you freeze. Fuck.

You watch as he sets his bag down, slipping his suit jacket off after. Then, he tucks his cane somewhere safe, before his fingers begin to work at folding his sleeves up to his elbows. His fingers rub his temple for a minute, obviously exhausted from a long time. Then, he takes off his glasses and your heart skips a beat.

He pauses as soon as your heartbeats and he smirks when he turns towards the backyard door. Oh fuck.

He slides the patio door open and approaches you,

“Why are you outside?” he asks, sitting next to you.

“Uh.. Just, enjoying the weather.” And he laughs like you’re the funniest person he knows as he sits down next to you, groaning as he does, and your heart can barely take it.

“You’re a horrible lair, sweetheart.” He tells you. Does he know how desperately you want him? “What are you really—” Then he pauses, his nose twitching. “Are you smoking weed?” He questions.

“No.” You say, but as you breath out, smoke blows out of your mouth as you cough a bit.

“Oh my god—”

“Wait, wait, wait, don’t fire me—”

“Hand it over.” He says, hand outstretched, waiting for the pen. And not even for a second does your brain imagine denying him. It doesn’t cross your mind that maybe he doesn’t have that authority over you and you’re a grown adult.

In fact, you’re foolish if you ever thought he has no authority over you.

You hand over the pen sheepishly, but.. you’re caught way off guard when is fingers study the pen, finding the button and taking a hit for himself. You just watch him, mesmerized as he exhales through his nose.

“Sorry,” he starts, taking another hit before passing it back to you, “I’ll make it up to you.” he promises.

“It’s okay,” You giggle, a little bit from how comical it was, but a little bit from how fucking hot that was. Then, you take another hit, as he just rocks the porch swing back and forth, like he’s rocking you to sleep. The night is cool enough that the smoke barely rattles your lungs, and the intensity of summer has gone to sleep. Silence fills the air, as you just pass your pen back and forth, love in your eyes.

“Why is your wedding ring on the table?” You finally ask. You expect Matt to tense up, to scoff and tell you to mind your fucking business, but he just blows out more smoke before responding,

“My wife and I don’t have the most.. conventional of relationships.” He responds, “We’re in an open relationship.” He adds.

“Oh.” You breath out.

“Yeah. Oh. It’s more like.. She goes out and dates and fucks and I flirt occasionally, but that’s sort of a long title.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He takes a hit, “Oh.”

You don’t have anything to offer to that.

“Are you from here?” you ask, and he just smiles.

“No.” He says, and now there is true yearning in his voice. “Hell’s Kitchen, New York.” He responds.

“Do you at least like it here?” You ponder, as if his far away voice didn’t give him away.

“At first it’s fine. You try to fit in, just, make your way through, settle down. Then, you begin to hate it. You feel like if it sunk into the ground right at this very second, you’d die happy. Then, you become.. indifferent. You don’t mind the numbness of it all, you just stay perfectly complacent. Then, you wake up and are desperate to escape, like your own personal Truman show. The Matthew Show. Wouldn’t that be something to see?” He muses.

And again, you have nothing to offer but another piece of your soul, just throwing it out there,

“Would you date anyone?”

“Excuse me?”

“Like, if you had someone you were really into, would you date her—Them, whoever?” You ask. “Whomever?” You ask, quieter now, mostly to yourself.

He smiles.

“If someone came along, someone say, who smoked weed, got along very well with my son, and was a horrible liar? Bonus points if she—they,” You suspect he’s making fun of you, “were an English Major?”

You tilt your head with a doe eyed smile.

“You remember I’m an English major?” He coos at you like you’re stupid,

“I remember everything about you, sweetheart.” What is wrong with him? What is wrong with you? Why aren’t you saying anything more to him?

“You know, sometimes, I remember the feeling of your fingers on my thigh when I touch myself,” And he grins like he knows he’s won.

“I bet you do,” He whispers, leaning forward so that his breath was hot against your skin, “Bad, Bad girl..” he ticks, and you can’t help but blush.

“Sorry,” You giggle out as your hand comes up to his face, just to move the pads of your fingers over his scruff.

“It’s okay, sweet girl,” he purrs, his hand finding your thigh again, the twitch of your legs not lost on him. “I don’t mind,” he hums. The weed you smoked is starting to kick in, and with it, your inhibitions start to slip away, your hand reaching so that you can barely touch his hair with the tips of your fingers. He takes another quick hit of your pen before taking your face in his hands, squeezing just a bit so he can lean in and blow smoke into your mouth, and as if it’s communion wine, you inhale, wanting every part of him you can have. Maybe it’s greedy, but you’ll atone for your sins later.

When he pulls away, you think you might just die and go up to heaven.

“I think..” You think so many things. You think that maybe he’s fucking with you. You think that this is a nice little dream that you’ll think back on when you’re old and wrinkly. The deepest, darkest, most insignificant piece of you that you pretend isn’t there, says—

What if he leaves his wife for you?

And you completely understand that you’ve barely kissed the man, but you never claimed that the deep dark part of you was smart, chill or even a little bit in touch with reality, only that it exists.

Besides, the deepest, darkest, most insignificant piece of you that you pretend isn’t there isn’t something you can ignore. Ignoring it is like trying to hold a beachball underwater—Eventually it’ll pop back up and hit you in the face.

“I think that maybe I should head home.” You finally answer, and maybe it’s the weed, but you see a flash of.. disappointment cross over his features. But that couldn’t be it, you’re much more pathetic than he is, he wouldn’t be so upset over you having to leave..

Would he?

But as quickly as the disappointment was there.. It was gone. Poof. As if it had never even existed.

“That’s okay,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and handing your pen back to you so you can tuck it into your bag, until the next time you need another hit. His head picks up as you glance over to door, where his wife walks in, putting her things down. He glances over to you, “Let me walk you home.” He offers.

You smile gently, standing up with him. You don’t say much as you make your way to gather your things from the front door, making pleasant conversations with his wife as he waited for you to get your shoes on. Soon enough, you’re making the quiet walk back to your house, and you’re accepting the swirling mess that is your emotions—Sure, he’s married, technically your boss, way older than you, and most definitely able to read you like a book, but there’s something about him that makes you forget all of that.

Maybe it’s just the general look of him—the salt and pepper hair, the stubble that’s just a bit too long, the sleeves rolled up to his elbow, the way his hands have just a few wrinkles and are covered in scars (from what, you do not know), the feeling of his hand on your thigh or the way his pink lips blew smoke into yours, the way his pants hug the curve of his ass, or maybe, you pathetic college student, maybe it’s the shine of his shoes, professional but just begging you to ride them.

Jesus, you’re too high for this.

But you’re almost certain that what did you in, the roots of your delusion, is the way he squeezed your hand the first time you met. You think, with the upmost affection, that your handshake was the most intimate two strangers could get on a Sunday in the blazing sun, the hypnotic daze of the light shining through the stained-glass windows of the church finally wearing off.

You want to tell him as much, to tell him that you haven’t gone a day without thinking about him since that day, that no amount of college students who ask you out for coffee have been able to drown out the sound of his voice in the back of your head, that the deepest, darkest, most insignificant part of you thinks that he might leave his wife for you.

But the walk home is silent.

You say nothing, but you listen to his breathing, calm, steady. You’re envious. Sure, he’s blind, but there is quite literally no part of you that doesn’t betray you, that doesn’t give you away.

He stops at the end of your driveway, and you hold your breath, waiting for him to speak. You can tell he has something to say, by the way he inhales, lips just barely parted. Sure, you’ve been an English major for years, but you’ve quickly picked up a minor in Matt Murdock studies.

“If I made you uncomfortable tonight, I’m sorry.” He starts, and your brows furrow in confusion.

“I’m—You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you promise. If anything, even though you were the one who said it was time to go, there’s a twinge of disappointment in your throat.

“Still—I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you or anything..” He starts, “Just.. Have a goodnight.” He smiles gently, his hand slowly, all too slowly, sliding off your arm as he steps away, but in a moment of, possibly THC induced, boldness, you grab his hand as he stands, arm outstretched to you. His sightless eyes hold onto you.

“You aren’t even gonna kiss me goodnight?” You ask, your voice vulnerably hopeful.

His lips twitch up in a smirk, pausing for a second, his head tilted in the most curious way. Like he’s waiting for the perfect moment. Then, he pulls your hand towards him so now you’re the one with the extended arm, like the two of you are dancing, pulling each other back and forth with an intensity birthed from desperation.

He brings your hand up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the back of it, something straight out of a fairytale. But just as quickly, he gently drops your hand, his eyes blazing with affection.

“We’re okay?”

“We’re okay.” You confirm with a soft smile, not wanting to dwell on any uncertainty that’s between the two of you. To accept that there is any uncertainty at all would be to accept the chance that this is as far as you two will get—lingering crushes and the ghost of a pair of lips on your hand.

He waits until you get back into your house, then walks down the sidewalk back towards his house, putting the idea of you in the trunk that sits in his armoire, only in the back of his mind, next to his old suit, his old friends, and his old life.

On Monday, you get to the Murdock’s house after Matt and his wife have gone to work, but before Lucas has woken up.

On the counter, a tiny envelope sits, your name typed onto the envelope. You tear it open, finding a freshly bought cartridge for your pen. A note falls out of the envelope, and it’s.. in braille.

You sneak into Matt’s office, pulling out a braille dictionary, and you quickly figure out that the note says, ‘We’re okay?’

In the middle of his work day, Matt gets a text.

‘We’re okay.’

When you tell your mom you got invited to go out with some friends from high school, she nearly jumps with excitement. You weren’t exactly popular in High School—that’s not really something you hide, since you’re now going into your senior year of college and you can admit that you were something of a loser in high school..

And in college. But, at your college, that’s more normal and even encouraged, so you run with it.

But your stomach churns at the idea of hanging out with the girls that you hung out with in high school—Wasn’t one of them married?

You knew from your mom, mostly, that the three girls from high school stayed very much in touch throughout their time in college. They were always closer to each other than you were with them, but you know that wasn’t really their fault. They were dumb teenagers just like you.

Maybe not inviting you to hangout outside of school was a side effect of being a seventeen-year-old, as so many things were.

You tell her that you have no interest in going out with them, but she tells you that you should have some friends at home! You want to tell her that having no friends was one reason why you went away to school, but instead, you text them back, asking what they had in mind.

So that’s how you end up in a bar two towns over, liquor burning the back of your throat, your head pounding and your ears aching. Your face twists into despair as you swallow the shot, not feeling as good as your ‘friends’. You’ve never been a fan of drinking, even feeling guilty when you took your first shot of communion wine when you were 8.

Your friends start giggling and laughing as you try to keep up with the conversation, a little lost, a sinking feeling in your stomach as you poke at the ice in your empty glass with a straw.

Then, the bartender comes over to you, placing your drink of choice in front of you, your friends pausing their conversation as she does.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t order that,” You say politely, smiling awkwardly to her. You wish you were underage, you wish you were anywhere but here, you wish—

“Actually, the gentleman at the bar got it for you,” she smiles, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, glancing at the bar and—

Warmth explodes in your chest, your heart beginning to thump loudly in your ears.

Your friends laugh a bit, shoving your shoulders gently, teasing you.

“You have to go talk to him,” One starts, and another picks up,

“He’s hot!” You smile shyly down to the drink in front of you and nod,

“Fine.” You hum, picking up the drink and walking over to where Matt sits at the bar, sipping a whiskey on ice. You sit next to him, and for a moment, neither of you say anything, and then his head turns to you.

“Why are you here with people you don’t like?” he asks, and you just blink in surprise.

“I’m sorry?”

“Your friends. You don’t like them.” He says, and you just blush, embarrassed.

“How do you know that?” You ask, and he shrugs, taking a sip of his drink.

“You’re just.. quieter than usual.” He says honestly, sending you a sympathetic smile. You feel seen in the worst way possible. It’s like you’ve spent your entire life hiding, and Matt can see you for exactly what you are. Your face burns with embarrassment, taking another sip of your drink.

“Can we just flirt and almost fuck like we usually do?” You wonder.

“That makes it sound so much more.. casual than it is.” He pouts, and you just laugh, already feeling more relaxed than you had been before. And it isn’t even because of the alcohol, or so you suspect.

“What are you doing in a bar two towns over?” You ask, unsure how to respond to his comment about the casualness of your.. relationship, although that’s a rather strong word for what you two have.

“I was meeting with a client in town,” he responds, “Thought I’d stop for a drink before going home.” He says, and all you can find to respond is,

“Won’t your wife be mad at you for getting a drink when you could be home?” And he laughs, like you said something funny or cute.

“No, when she says she’s working late, she’s probably getting a drink and hooking up with someone. I thought I’d try it.” He smirks, and your face flushes. This is not a man who has any pure or holy intentions, and that absolutely turns you on. You have so little inhibition at this point that you simply lean forward, grab his tie, and pull him in for a long kiss.

Your nose twitches at the smell of vanilla, mixed with a bit of the whiskey, but quickly followed by just a hint of lemon. His hand quickly finds your waist, causing your posture to straighten as he kisses you deeper, his other hand trailing up your thigh, just like that first day outside the church.

The bar is dingy, so no one cares when he pulls away to finish his drink, then, straightens out his tie (which might kill you), and then he stands up, taking your hand in his.

“Let’s go,” he says quickly, pulling you along to the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. On the way there, your friends whistle and hoot, and while your face flushes, Matt does not seem to even notice. He opens the bathroom door without hesitation, like he knows it will be empty.

And the bathroom is.. disgusting. It’s dingy, dirty, but the sink looks.. clean enough. As soon as the door is closed behind you, Matt has you against it, his hands exploring your body as he kisses you, your hands instinctively going to his hair, as if you’ve done this a million times before.

His kisses are gentle, but invasive, like he wants to taste every single inch of your mouth with his tongue, and you happily let him. His fingers slip beneath your skirt, creeping up, finally finding the waistband of your panties, and he hums against your lips as if to shush you when you whine at the contact, his fingers slipping right under them to touch your throbbing cunt—It’s the type of warmth he’ll chase during cold, snowy days come winter.

His lips begin to attack your skin, kissing your jaw and your neck as he rubs circles into your clit, sucking up the breathy moans that escape your lips as he touches you. You’re soaking wet, and he wonders if you’ve ever been with anyone who knows where your clit is.

His fingers don’t even slip inside you, they just rub your clit with the attention it deserves, Matt taking your moans and how your hands grip his shirt as payment. But the movement of his fingers are too much for you, and before you know it, you’re squeezing your eyes tight, hands tangled in his clothes and hair, as you reach your first orgasm of many brought to you by the man.

He continues to rub your clit as you come down from that high, your breath getting more even, despite the way your skin burns and cum drips down your thighs. Then, he kisses you, jarringly soft—

“All that over some attention from my fingers?” He teases, that shit eating grin on his face. Part of you wants to tell him to fuck off, defend yourself, but you recognize, as does he, that he holds all the power in this dynamic.

“If I say yes, will you fuck me properly?” Because ‘make love’, despite what your mother and aunts always said, doesn’t seem proper. You two aren’t in love.. you’re in lust for this man—Or at least, you’re telling yourself that because of how desperately you want his cock inside you.

“I guess you’ll have to try it and find out.” He says, as if he’s not hard, his cock twitching in his pants at every little whiff he gets of you.

“Yes.” You hum, “All that over your fingers,” And he just smirks before asking,

“Anything else?”

“…Please?” And it seems to be the magic word, because he leans forward and kisses your cheek before adding,

“Good girl.” And at how excited that makes you, Matt finds himself practically fumbling for the condom he had put in his wallet the day he met you, but as soon as you realize it, you’re grabbing at his hands, trying to take it out of his hands, and his free hand finds your chin, gripping it just tightly enough to make your brain feel fuzzy, “What? What is it, baby?” he asks, and you have to take a moment before you respond,

“I’m on the pill, we don’t need a condom,” And a part of Matt’s brain that never quite grew out of the Catholic upbringing in which he was raised wants to remind you of all of the complications that could come with that, but another, stronger and more tempting part of his brain, the devil part of his brain thinks about the feeling of being buried deep inside of you, in the middle of this dingy fucking bathroom, with your ‘friends’ waiting outside, and he literally tosses the condom on the floor.

No words are spoken as he kisses you again, his hand that was holding the condom now working on unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, his free hand simply holding yours—perhaps the most romantic thing a man has ever done for you.

Eventually, your panties are rolled down to your ankles, and he pulls you just to the edge of the sink so you’re hanging onto him for dear life, and he just kisses you, and in between kisses he says, “Shh, shh, I’ve got you, just like that,”, and you trust him.

He pulls away from kissing you, to take your chin in his hand one more time and demand your attention.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” he starts, “And it might hurt at first, but we’re gonna go slow, okay?”

“Okay,” and he kisses your forehead, strikingly loving compared to the situation that you have found yourself in. You wait, anticipation dripping down your thighs, before Matt slowly pushes himself inside of you, and as he fills you up, you moan into his skin.

There’s a part of Matt that starts shaking at the feeling of how tight you are around him. He lets out a low groan, his breath hot against your neck, as he bottoms out inside of you, his finger twitching a bit, aching to fuck you so intensely you’ll forget your own name..

But he resists, waiting for your grip on him to loosen softly,

“We’re okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“We’re okay,” You breath out, ready for him to move.

“Yeah, I know, baby, we’re okay,” he purrs, before slowly, agonizingly slowly, beginning to thrust in and out of you, only encouraged by your moans as they begin to pick up, thrusting into you faster, unable to resist the way you clench around him.

Your fingers barely scrape over his skin as he thrusts into you, his lips kissing your skin. He wants to tease you, he wants to tell you that you’re so dirty, letting a grown man fuck you in a dingy bathroom, but he finds himself lost in your warmth, unable to provide you with the dirty talk that he has dreamt of giving you for months.

But.. this is better. This is a well put together man, who falls apart at the feeling of your cunt, who shudders at the feeling of your hands on his, who tears apart at the seams of his being when your lips touch his. It’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to being an artist, mending and molding him with your hands.

It’s mesmerizing, and if you could, you’d stay here forever, letting him fuck into you like it’s his god damn job, slowly becoming faster, harder, more intense, never letting up, so you decide to push him—

“Need you to come inside me,” You pant out, and Matt won’t ever admit it to you, but he almost comes right then and there, not even bothering to give you a warning. Almost.

“I will, baby,” He hums, kissing your neck as sweat glistens his forehead, trying to push himself, trying to fuck you like you deserve, like he knows you deserve, his thrusts unrelenting.

Your thighs begin to shake as you claw at him, your breath catching in your throat.

“Matt- Please, oh my god—” You whine, “I’m gon—”

“Yeah, I know, baby, You’re squeezing around me so well,” He purrs, “C’mon, you can cum, you just gotta let go for me,” He advises, “C’mon, show me how good I’m making you feel,” And as you creep closer to the edge, your heart thumps loudly in his ears- You can’t help yourself. You’re sort of taken by the fact that when he’s breathless like this, you can hear his New York accent twinge out of him..

And that might just be what pushes you over the edge.

You cum with a moan, shuddered into his ear, panting as he keeps thrusting into you. The only time your mind wanders is rather briefly, as the way the stained glass windows looked in your church on the day you met him.

He lets out a soft whimper as he bathes in the feeling of you coming around his cock, the feeling of your hands in his hair, the feeling of your breath against his neck—he’s actually falling apart, and his thrusts only stutter as he comes inside you, deep deep within you.

Neither of you say anything as your hips pathetically roll, and he leads you down from your high as he slows his thrusts. For a moment, you both need to sit in the silence of your breathing..

And then, you start to laugh.

He laughs with you.

“What’s so funny?” He asks through laughs, tracing the side of your face with his hand, and you just laugh harder.

“You’re just..” You find the words, “You just exceeded my expectations is all,” and it’s so funny to him, that that’s where your mind goes after he fucked you so well. You’re adorable, he thinks, and he needs to keep you like this forever, stuck in time with his cum dripping down your legs.

When you both come down to earth, finally, he kisses you and says gently, “Let’s get you cleaned up,” And you happily oblige him.

He helps you off the sink, steadying you with his arms as your legs shake, holding onto him like a newborn deer, unsure of your movements.

But soon enough, you’re stable enough to stand on your own and the dawning realization hits you— you just ran away from your friends to go fuck a married man. And.. there’s so little regret—really, there’s nothing much at all that you feel besides an aching in your core for more.

He squeezes your arm gently, before asking,

“Feeling okay, honey?” he asks gently. And you just grin at him.

“Never better.”

So, funny enough..

You get grounded after your night out.

“Grounded?” Matt laughs as you tell him that, not at all caring that he has you sitting on his office desk, hands wandering your thighs, “You’re twenty one, how’d they ground you?” He ponders, and you huff.

“Well, my fuckin’ friends were telling their parents about this hookup I had in the bar, and their parents told mine, and they got mad at me—So now I’m only allowed to go to work, and then go home.” You huff.

Matt smirks against your skin, kissing your neck. He pulls back and grips your chin, tilting your head up to look to him, his thumb slipping into your mouth, pressing your tongue down.

“What’re you gonna do all summer, stuck in your big bad bosses house?” he asks, and you just roll your eyes as your face reddens. “Don’t worry, pretty thing,” he says gently, planting a long kiss to your jaw, “Your old man is gonna take good care of you.”

And you know he means it, too.

One weekend, your parents go away. They trust you won’t have any boys over, not even considering the idea that you’d have Mr. Murdock over.

He has his arm wrapped around you as you lay in bed, mumbling something soft in your ear. You roll over, admiring him for a minute, the way his eyes look.. he’s so pretty. You reach out and gently touch the skin around his eyes, noticing the scarring around his eyes.

“Hm?” You question, tilting your head. You didn’t quite hear him. He looks at you for a long time before responding,

“I think you’re hard of hearing,” And you can tell by the tone of his voice that he means it. “I’ve noticed it a lot, you always miss things when you aren’t looking right at people, and you’re always asking people to repeat themselves. There’s nothing wrong with that, I just.. You should be able to get the resources you need to help with that.” He shrugs, like it isn’t the most observant anyone’s ever been of you.

You lean in and kiss him, for a long time, your hand on his cheek. When you pull away, you take a second to breath before kissing him again.

“What was that for?” He eventually asks, a smile on his face.

“I just..” You shrug, “No one’s ever really noticed anything like that about me.” You feel seen, in a way that pulls at your heart. He smiles gently to you, kissing your forehead before responding,

“All I’ll ever want is for you to feel seen.”

The end of the summer comes a lot faster than you would’ve liked. You had a great summer, you tell yourself, you spent a lot of time at work with Lucas, smoking weed, sitting under the stars, and being with Matt.

But, as your move in date for your senior year approaches, and you begin to start packing, an anxiety starts to creep into you.

How will you say goodbye to him?

Neither of you have discussed what will happen when that day comes, but it looms over you like doomsday. Each day that passes, you get hit harder and harder with the realization that summer will end, and nothing will be the same.

And eventually, though you will and pray it does not, the day comes.

It’s hot. Blaring hot, hotter than you would’ve liked. Even as the sun begins to set, there’s a brutality to the air that does not provide any relief.

You’ve already said goodbye to Lucas and Matt’s wife, so now, you just sit on your front porch, staring at the house down the street. When the door to the house opens, you advert your eyes like you’ve been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.

Soon after, you pick your head up to see Matt approaching you. He smiles to you, and you try to smile back, but your heart aches with the knowledge that this will be the last time you see him until.. well, you aren’t sure when. You stand up to meet him at the end of your driveway.

“All packed?” he asks. You scoff softly.

“Something like that.” You shrug, and he smiles.

“What’re you still missing?” You answer before you can stop yourself.

“You.” You say, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. Immediately, his arms are around you, overheating you in the late August weather, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. He holds you gently, as if you’ll break when he lets go, crying into your shoulder. His hand rubs your back as he gently shushes you.

“It’s okay,” he says gently, “I’ll be here when you get back.” He promises, and you know he’s right. But for the first time, leaving your home will be hard, and you do not know what to do about it, other than buy a candle that might smell like him.

You stay like that for a long time, longer than you care to admit, before he slowly pulls away. You look to him for a few minutes, before he kisses your forehead. He hands you an old Columbia tee shirt of his, one that smells just like him, and you clutch it like your life depends on it.

“We’re okay?” He asks gently, and even if it’s a lie, you nod, and respond,

“We’re okay.”

Fall

Adjusting to dorm life comes back to you quicker than you would’ve thought, despite your heartbreak that came with living. You and your friends fill your time with studying, smoking, and doing anything you can to distract yourself from the aching in your chest.

But, you can’t deny, that on nights where it’s too hot to sleep, you scroll through Facebook—yes, Facebook of all things, looking at photos of Matt, getting just small glances into his life from two hundred miles away.

And as the time melts away, you become more and more.. numb to the pain that stung so intensely.. But you also spend a lot of time looking for the cologne that he wore, and you won’t deny that when your roommate leaves for the weekend, you spend hours in the memories of the summer, with your hand between your legs, aching for just a bit of the pleasure he gave you.

You almost have a heart attack when your mom asks you to come to church with her while you’re home for fall break. Of course you’ll go, of course it’ll be your pleasure, mainly because you’re hoping—maybe even praying for him to be there.

When that Sunday comes, you spend an hour getting ready. You know that Matt is blind and won’t care, but maybe a part of you believes you need to dress all pretty for him. You even wear the sundress you wore for Easter Sunday.

Your thighs are already slick with heat when you get there, and your eyes scan the crowd for Matt.. and when you eventually find him, your breath hitches in your throat, just like the first night you felt him inside you.

You grin as you see him, all by himself, at the back of the church. You excuse yourself from your parents, making your way back to him like it’s your god damn birthday you’re so excited.

But as soon as you approach him, someone calls his name behind you—an old friend or maybe a coworker, and Matt walks toward you, and you open your mouth to say something your eyes following him, and then—

He walks right past you, avoiding you completely. Your face falls with disappointment, your heart sinking. Maybe.. he just didn’t realize it was you. Maybe. You don’t know, but it messes with your head throughout all of the service.

You and your family are sitting more towards the back, while Matt and his family sits in front of you—You watch him like it’s your damn job, waiting, waiting, Until—

He gets up, quietly making his way towards a door to the side, one that will lead downstairs and to a restroom. You begin to count to sixty, waiting so very patiently, before quietly excusing yourself, and following him down the stairs.

As soon as you open the basement door, Matt is pulling you further into the basement, to a deep dark corner, and immediately, you’re pressed against the wall, his mouth on your neck. You moan softly as your hands find his hair, tugging on it, as his hands begin to explore your thighs like a starving man.

“Matt—” You go to say, but his hand clamps over your mouth as his free hand tugs off your panties, his hand cupping your cunt as you roll your hips, desperate for more contact than that.

“You gonna behave for me, pretty thing?” He grumbles, and you nod against his hand, so he bites down on your shoulder, “There we go,” He mumbles, his hand coming off your mouth to pull your panties down, before working on his belt and his zipper.

Your hands work at his hair, trying to cope with the fact that he is not being gentle, in fact, he seems to be purposefully mean, like he’s trying to see if you can even take it. This is nothing like when he first fucked you—this is a fucking that is making you see stars, and will leave you in tears.

Two of his fingers spread you open, making sure that you’re ready for him to fuck you. When he decides he is, still kissing your neck, he thrusts into you quickly—unapologetically. He doesn’t care about much else besides chasing that feeling of you clenched around him. He bottoms out inside you and moans against your neck.

Then, his thrusts start. He doesn’t even pretend to start slow, immediately he is thrusting into you, harder than he had in months, relishing in the feeling and the sound of his skin slapping against yours.

“Missed your tight cunt,” He mumbles into your ear, “Missed how well you take me,” he hummed, his pace relentless. He’s trying to satisfy his cravings for you, but his attempt is messy and he’s losing his mind over the idea of not being able to fuck you for another few months.

“I’m—” You whine, your hair falling into your face, your brain fuzzy, “I’m gonna—” He coos softly as he grips your chin with his free hand.

“C’mon, pretty thing, cum for me—” And just like that, you do. You absolutely do. You don’t hold back, and as soon as he feels you clenching around him, he’s coming too. You don’t know what else to do other than let him ride his high. When he pulls out, his hand comes back to your thighs, beginning to gently massage the mess the two of you had made into your thighs, pulling your panties back up so that for the rest of the service, you kind of just.. have to sit with that.

Your hands stay in his hair as he cleans the pair of you up, and you lean in to kiss him, and he lets you, but.. he doesn’t really kiss you back. And it breaks your heart. Your eyebrows furrow, as you reach for him like a child, and he just grabs your hands, “Just.. relax, okay?” He sighs.

“Why are you being like this?” You ask, “You’re..” You struggle to find the words as he buckles his pants, ignoring your gaze. There’s something inside him that’s stopping him from being affectionate towards you, that reminds him that you’ll be heading back off to school in a day or two and his heart will break all over again.

“Go back upstairs, Honey,” he says, but you shake your head.

“No, stop ignoring me—”

“Now.” He says firmly, ignoring the nauseating feeling as the saltiness of your tears fill his senses.

“Fuck. You.” you spit out, and he’s not angry with you for your reaction. It’s valid, of course. He knows why you’re angry, he just fucked you lovelessly, in the basement of the church where you first met.

He doesn’t say anything.

But he listens to the angry sniffles and foot stomps as you make your way back upstairs.

Matt’s neglect made you turn a new corner, and as soon as you get back to school, you find yourself constantly working and studying. You can’t possibly think about the intensity of his thrusts, the sternness of his voice.

You can’t talk about it, you can’t talk to any of your friends about the way you fell in love with a married man, you can’t talk to your parents about how you developed such intense feelings for the man who lives down the street..

So, you study.

On Halloween, you get a little too fucked up.

You drink an intense amount, needing to wash away the anger you have for Matt. At some point, you’re sitting in your bathroom floor, leaning against your wall.

Matt does not answer your call.

But you listen to his voicemail like it’s a sermon.

Winter

After Halloween, you begin to drink water every day, you eat more balanced meals, and you cut back on your substances. Truly, you know you need to make a change. And you do—school work becomes less of a coping mechanism and more of your job again. You mostly focus on enjoying your senior year.

But as the winter creeps in, you shop around for a gift for Lucas, fondly remembering your time with the young boy, despite your interaction with his father back in October. You store the gift away and focus on your finals. By the time you make it home, you’re exhausted.

You sleep most of the day on the 22nd, and then on the 23rd, you spend your day unpacking and helping your mom get ready for Christmas. Before you go to bed, you wrap Lucas’ present, and store it away, not caring much to deliver it any time soon.

You tell yourself you’ll drop it off tomorrow, and you aren’t sure if you’d rather come face to face with Matt, or his wife. The walk takes seemingly forever, and you feel anxious the whole way there.

You knock on the door, and wait with baited breath.. When Matt opens the door, your breath catches. He looks really good—A grey button up and dark jeans. You just smile at him.

“Hey,” You breath, “Uhm, I was just.. I wanted to give this to Lucas.. Is he here?” You question, not knowing where else he’d be on Christmas Eve.

“Oh, he’s actually staying at his moms today,” And your head darts up.

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah,” Matt says somewhat sheepishly, “We’re.. Separated. In the process of getting divorced.” He confesses.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” He chuckles, “I guess It was inevitable.”

“Well.. Then I guess you’re not doing anything tonight, huh?” You wonder, and he nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll probably just have a drink and listen to Christmas music.” He chuckles. You ache for him to invite you over. But you don’t get to tell him that before he says, “I’m so sorry about.. October.” He sighs gently, rubbing his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” You say gently,

“No. It’s not. I was a dick, and you didn’t deserve that. I really am sorry.”

“I got over it,” You shrug.

“So.. We’re okay?” He offers.

You smile.

“Yeah. We’re okay.”

“Good. Because I’d really like to take you out sometime. Like, a real date.” He offers, and your face flushes.

“Yeah, that would be really nice..” You grin.

“No more sneaking around?”

“Well.. Maybe from my parents.. And it is kind of sexy,” You grin, taking a step up further onto his porch.

“Yeah?” He laughs, his hand coming down to rest on his waist. “Maybe that could be arranged.” He hums.

“Good,” You hum, and then you open your mouth to add, but he cuts you off.

“Do you want to stay for dinner? Tell your parents you’re keeping your old man company?” He hums, and your face flushes.

“I’d really like that.”

“That’s my baby,” He hums, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

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