#matt murdock x reader x elektra natchios

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

omg ok a bit of a ramble but i’ve been thinking about your matt x elektra x reader fic for daysss bc i just started this guard/educator job at a museum and we had a private business-y event. i couldn’t stop thinking about your matt and elektra walking in and immediately clocking the reader taking a not-so professional interest in them because like elektra looks Gorgeous obv and matt is just Like That, and they look Like That Together. and maybe they decide they’re gonna have some fun.

maybe they casually walk up to the artwork you’re standing next to and elektra asks you to tell them more about the pretty thing in front of them. and you start talking about the art, but she cuts you off with a “darling, i meant you.“ while matt just smirks as your brain reboots, heart rate soaring. elektra doesn’t give you a second, though, “now they’re blushing the most lovely pink, matthew. what ever should we do about that?” and matt, smug, always willing to play along, to push, goes “seems like you knocked all the thoughts out of their pretty head. so flustered over a little comment, huh, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” and you just nod, dumbfounded, disbelieving, locking eyes with an expectant elektra and you somehow know they’re both waiting for the shaky, “yea… yes” you manage to get out. matt hums in approval while elektra smiles, catlike, satisfied, “see? like i said. Lovely. we’ll let you get back to work now, darling.”

maybe that’s it and they don’t talk to you the rest of the night, just love the way they know you’re still staring after them. maybe they do that anyways, then sweep back past you arm-in-arm as the event ends and with a light brush on your arm and a whisper in your ear, elektra tells you they’ll be a car out front in ten minutes for you if you’d like to join them for the night. you slide into that car exactly ten minutes later and they’re waiting for you in the back seat.

but like omggggg love love love your dom!elektra and switch!matt, also of course some comment about pinning the reader to the wall like the art they are because i don’t think elektra or matt could resist

oh hi!! waking up to this ask made me so happy because guilty as sin is one of the best fics ive ever written so.

ANYWAYS.

the idea of them picking you out of a crowd to mess with you while on your shift.. especially if it's a long shift where the two of them, sometimes alone, sometimes together, will come and say something teasing to you...

this ask was a treasure to wake up to. i hope you have a lovely day anon i love you.

[littlefoxgirlhere]

so 😛 I was watching season 2 of Daredevil again annnnd I realized for the first time that Matt almost never takes off his glasses, even when he's just talking to Karen in a private place or with Foggy, he only takes off his glasses when he's injured or when he's wearing the DD suit. BUT, when he's with Elektra, he almost never puts his glasses on, it's even the opposite, I see many scenes of him taking off his glasses JUST to talk to her.

I found this so cute and so deep about their relationship, it's almost like an unannounced way of saying "I can be myself with you, without fear, without shame" and I think it hurt even more when they're trapped in that building and Elektra is dying and he finally admits that she's the only person who understands him and sees him completely, his vigilante side and his lawyer side (even though she doesn't like his moral side a lot). She accepts him the way he is, she doesn't ask him to stop, of course she tried to corrupt him and make him change (in the sense of not restricting himself to not killing criminals) but she still accepts him and he does that too, he wants her to change but still loves her the way she is.

toxic but passionate, so I love them

[farfromstrange]

Is It Over Now? | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

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

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

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

Word Count: 1.7k

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

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One day. 

Three hundred days, all wasted in one. 

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

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

You thought he was the one. 

And then it just… ended. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was just a kiss,” he argued. 

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

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

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

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

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

“No. Fuck you, Matt!”

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

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

You should have never let him fool you.

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re done.”

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

But God, you were so in love. 

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

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

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

You killed each other. 

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

He was your first true love. 

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

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

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

But when exactly did you go wrong?

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

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

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

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

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

“What if I am?”

“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”

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

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

“Nice to meet you,” you say. 

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

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

You need to forget Matt Murdock. 

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

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

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

[pastaxandria]

The Red Thread: Chapter 162

🔥

The Library of Pastaxandria has recorded for its archives: Chapter 162 of The Red Thread.

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Chapter Summary:

“It really did bother you, didn’t it? What I said to her.” Her brows rose curiously, the cool fascination of a cat watching the movements of a fluttering bird. “And here I was wondering if it was just a bit of show for her.” “You know it wasn’t!” he snapped. “I get that you may not understand this since everything’s a game to you and we’re all just here for your amusement, but hurting the people we love is generally something most of us try to avoid.” “You think that lowly of me, Matthew?” Her gaze skittered away from him, her fingers beginning to fidget, just a little, with the blanket on the couch. Trying to draw him in, make him feel for her, he suspected. “That I would hurt someone I—” “You hurt me.” Or: in which an old hurt is discussed

Wordcount: 8.2k

Warnings for this chapter: blood, injury care, some NSFW smutty content (grinding, nudity, a hint of fingering)

Read me on AO3 where the penguins are

[saintmurd0ck]

kiss and don't tell

masterlist

pairing: elektra natchios x f!reader + matt murdock and frank castle

summary: when frank and matt tap elektra's phone to figure out what she's up to, the last person they'd expect her to call is you

warnings: phone sex, matt and frank arguing like husbands, f!masturbation, elektra making everyone in her vicinity whimper, m!masturbation, exhibitionism

a/n: credits to my lovely @chvoswxtch for inspiration with elektra's phone background and @mikeymurdock for confirming darling matthew's birthday! this is my first time writing for elektra so be kind pls & HAPPY FUCKIN PRIDE !!!

“Thought you said she was always on that thing,” Frank grumbles, tapping on a flat-screen monitor displaying the layout of a phone lockscreen. He stares intently at the red supernova background, scrunitising on the halo of stars ringed around the edges of the phone. 

“She is,” Matt murmurs, furrowing his brows until they almost disappear beneath his glasses.

Frank sighs, leaning back in his chair, interlacing his hands behind his head. “It’s been four hours, Red. Why don’t ‘ya get some shut-eye, and I’ll stay up.” It wasn’t a question.

“Can’t be,” Matt breathes, mussing his hair. “It’s happening”–he pauses, fingers flitting over his watch–”tonight.” 

Disconcertion settles over Frank’s face as he wonders if this really is the way he’s spending his Friday night. His mouth quirks to the side. “First I’m gonna ask you how you know that, and second I wanna know exactly what we’re doing.”

“I know her, Frank. I just… know.”

“The fuck kinda answer’s that?” Frank glares, incredulous. “What, so you can listen to people breathing five blocks away, anticipate a bullet’s exact trajectory and now you can predict the future?”

Matt loosens his tie, looking more offended at the implication of being a fortune teller than at any other of Frank’s digs tonight. ”Of course not! S’just that… all of a sudden, she’s back in my life again. I wanna know what she’s doing, why she’s here, and what she has planned. You don’t know her like I do, Frank. Elektra isn’t good news.”

Frank yawns. “So? Ask her.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Hmm.” 

A muscle feathers in Matt’s jaw, the tension more palpable than ever, especially with the time ticking idly by. He adjusts the earbuds connected to the laptop in front of him, straining for a single sound, or any hint of activity, but he picks up on nothing. 

They’ve got all her communications tapped, thanks to Micro and his–as Foggy so aptly put it–technological wizardry, but this inactivity is well beyond her arrhythmic patterns. Matt glides his fingertips over her activity logs; every record of data painstakingly collated by Micro throughout the last two weeks. If there’s one thing about Elektra, it’s that Matt could count on her being out on a Friday night. 

Matt’s aware of Frank’s narrowing eyes, in similar concentration on the monitor ahead. “You think she’s really gonna leave us hangin’?”

“No, no, it’s just– she’s smart, okay? She’s smart, but I don’t think she knows. She’d make it obvious otherwise.”

“I dunno Red,” Frank shrugs, “Baitin’ your ex like this? That’s ballsy. Even for you.”

Matt’s head whips to the side at the mention of that word, ears pricking at the sudden dilation of Frank’s pupils, and the acceleration of his heartbeat. He’s readying himself for a fight. “I’m not giving you the satisfaction of a response, Frank.”

Frank tsks. “Ah, but ‘ya just did.”

Click.

It’s the unmistakable noise of Elektra’s phone being unlocked.

2-1-1-0-8-7

Matt straightens up in his chair, pushing his earbuds further in. “Frank!” he hisses. “Screen!” 

“Ain’t that your birthday? October 21?” Frank smirks.

Reddening, Matt pushes the grating thought aside. He’d discuss her passcode later, when time wasn’t of the essence. “Keep an eye on that screen–”

“She’s calling someone,” Frank interjects. He squints at the display. “Who’s… ‘Darling’?”

“Darling?” Matt stumbles over his words as the dial tone rings a little too loudly in his ears. “I-I don’t know.” 

There’s a hint of amusement in Frank’s voice. “She ever call you that?” 

But Matt’s response comes out quick. Too quick. “No!”

Frank’s mouth curves into a smile. “S’what I thought.”

Matt goes to retort, but the purpose of this mission embeds itself in his mind. “We have full access to her calls, her internet history, all her devices…If she’s planning anything, it’s gonna be tonight.”

“Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but I trust ‘ya,” Frank nods. “We got her.”

“Alright. I’m taking these out.” Unceremoniously, Matt yanks the earbuds out of his ears, wincing as the dial tone plays over the loudspeakers wired to the entire setup. 

Frank cocks his ear towards the speaker in the corner, glancing at the call logs laid out on his lap. He counts softly to himself. “I’m seein’ this Darling a lot. At least twice a day.”

Before they can deliberate further, Elektra’s ambient voice fills the tiny space. “Hello, Darling.” She pauses, hinting a smile. “Ready for me?”

Frank arches an eyebrow. “The fuck?”

“What took you so long?”

Matt stands up so abruptly that his chair falls to the ground, dizzy with the clang of metal on concrete. “That’s–”

Out of all the people they’d unassumingly characterised as the mysterious Darling, they would never, not in a million years, expect to hear you. 

“Did you look at the package I had delivered to you?” Elektra purrs, honeyed in a way that prickles the hairs on the back of Matt’s neck. “I would’ve sent it myself, but duty calls.”

“Shit, Red,” Frank chuckles. “You’re in deep shit.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, “and it fits perfectly. You know me so well, Ellie.”

“Ellie?!” Matt mouths. “What?”

“I knew it’d fit, Darling. Now be a good girl and spread those legs for me.”

In complete disregard of Matt choking on his own spit, Frank’s eyes fly open. “This part of your mission?”

“N-no. Definitely not. But–” Matt hesitates, swallowing dryly. “We need to keep listening. For all we know, our friend here could be a contact.”

“Fuckin’ perv.”

Feeling his temper rise, Matt takes a deep breath, willing his urge to fight dissipate. “S’there a way to turn the volume down?”

“Beats me,” Frank replies, nonchalant. “But small world, huh? Our friend–”Frank emphasises–“and your ex. A girl you’re into and a girl you used to be into.”

“I’m not into her.”

Frank snorts. “Yeah, you are.”

“Hmm,” Matt says, nodding, “so explain why your heart beats faster around her.”

There’s more than a hint of annoyance in Frank’s reply. “What?”

“I know you heard me correctly, Castle. You can’t hide shit from me.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Frank growls, kicking his chair away, sending the call logs scattering to the floor. 

“I’m so wet for you,” you gasp, unknowingly diffusing yet another fight, your breathy moans barely audible over the speakers. 

Frank stiffens, his fists unfurling from his sides. “Wait, wait, wait. Did I just–”

The tips of Matt’s ears go pink. 

“Mm,” Elektra muses. “I can still taste you, you know.”

“And how do I taste, Ellie?”

Elektra laughs, the sound crystalline. “Delicious.”

All of a sudden, it feels as if the labyrinthine, constricting nature of Micro’s lab seals off from the outside world, trapping both men and their paramours inside. 

“Please,” you whimper, every stuttered breath punctuating the words that come to mind. 

“Use your words, Darling. Please what?”

“Tell me how to touch myself.”

Frank shifts uncomfortably in his chair, wringing his hands as his eyes search for a distraction. “Feels like we’ve crossed a line, Red.”

“Since when have you ever cared about crossing lines?” Matt asks, scowling. “It’s pertinent. To…the mission.”

“Cut the shit. We’re not in Catholic school. You can just admit you’re horny.”

“Jesus, Frank! I’m not…”

“Of course,” Elektra hums, but the inflection in her voice indicates the kind of coyness that tells Matt she’s in complete control, physically present or not. 

Strained nostalgia sends him into overdrive, even more so as he contemplates just how she knows you. 

You, of all people, he knows, would be better off without someone like Elektra. 

Yet here you are. 

“Use one finger, Darling,” she continues, “and touch your clit for me. Up and down, just the way you like it.”

“Fuck,” you murmur, squirming as Elektra conducts your pleasure. “I want more.”

“Greedy, aren’t you? You’re lucky I feel generous tonight. Do you think you could handle two fingers?”

Matt exhales softly, licking his lips as he falters back to his seat. “Maybe you’re right.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Anything you ask for, Ellie. I can handle it.”

“Good girl. Let me hear how wet you are.”

Tipping his chin towards the ceiling, Matt reaches forward, fumbling for the cable connecting the speakers to their set up. “We’ll try again tomorr–”

“No,” Frank murmurs, holding his hand out reflexively.  He hesitates swatting Matt’s hand away from the wire, but he still follows through, however unconvincing the gesture seems to be. It’s true; his stance was different just moments ago, but he thinks about it carefully now. Maybe Matt’s right, and the outcome of the call will be more useful than not, but maybe, buried deep down amongst the feelings he harbours for you…

“Why?”

Saying nothing further, Frank turns his attention back to you, still conflicted about whether or not he should listen in.

Positioning the phone between your legs, you lean down to rub your clit, alternating between featherlight strokes and deep-pressure circles. As you begin to splinter with the thought of your impending orgasm, you dip two fingers into your pussy, hoping the mic picks up on the slickness pooling between your legs. 

Slowly, you stretch yourself out, picturing her there, watching you. Savouring you. “God, Ellie, it feels so–”

“Mm,” Elektra moans, pausing to praise you as she ruffles around her nightstand. “Can you guess what I’m doing?”

You slide a pillow under your hips, groaning as you rock against your fingers. “I’m picturing you and your legs spread, your red silk robe draped over the side of the bed, and you’re– fuck! Fuck, Ellie–”

“Cum for me, pretty girl.”

Crying out, you arch your back into your own touch, riding your hand until your body recovers just enough to go again. “I know you’re… you’re grabbing your favourite dildo, so you can fuck yourself while you fuck me.”

“Hm, has anyone told you how clever you are?” 

“You’re picturing it, aren’t you?” Matt asks, his face indiscernible. “The two of ‘em, together.”

Frank nods, pressing his lips together. “Yeah.”

“I guess we finally agree about something,” Matt says, chuckling.

“Yeah? And what’s that, exactly?”

“Do I really need to spell it out for you, Castle?”

Elektra huffs into the receiver, a faint buzzing emitting from her end of the call. “Put the phone down, Darling.”

“But–”

She continues, humoured and unfazed. “I can still hear you, don’t worry. I want you to use one finger on your clit, and hm… Three fingers in your pussy.” She poses her next words as a question. “Although, I know from the way you moaned my name that you added a third without asking?”

“Mm, Ellie–”

“I’ll let you off, just once.”

With every noise he picks up, Matt feels himself growing flustered. With all his tells laying out in the open–the flush in his cheeks, to his staggered breathing–he’s a dead giveaway. He pulls his tie over his head, unable to form a single coherent thought, the pretense of the mission long gone. Clearing his throat, Matt sits upright, draping his arm across his lap in an effort to conceal his growing erection. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but one of Elektra’s moans punctuates his focus, catching him off guard. 

Warmth singes Matt’s spine as he notices Frank’s gaze sliding to his lap.

“Shit, Red,” Frank murmurs, shaking his head, “I’m just… gonna leave you be. Okay? Call out when you’re… done.” He stands up promptly, stalking to the bedrolls in the other room.

“Wait–” Matt calls out, wanting to communicate that being left alone to act on his impulses is the last thing he needs…

But Frank makes a good point. Especially when he’s off to do the same thing.

“You know I can hear you jerking off, right?!” Matt yells. 

Frank’s retort bounces off the walls. “Mind your own damn business, Red!” 

“Whatever,” Matt mutters. Grateful for the privacy, he takes a moment to unbuckle his belt, tuning out the clinking of the metal in favour of the conversation overhead.

“Will you do me a favour, Ellie?” you gasp, pumping your fingers in and out of you with increasing speed.

“That depends on what you want.”

Desperation limns your voice, but you’re past the point of caring. “I want to hear you fuck yourself. Let me hear you cum.”

There’s a shuffle of fabric on the other end of the phone as Elektra makes a small noise of approval. 

Matt doesn’t need to be told that she’s moved in favour of a better position. 

Cowgirl was always her favourite.

He groans, still fully clothed, bucking into his hand as he concentrates on Elektra’s rhythmic breathing and hisses of pleasure. He palms himself, knowing she’s riding her dildo the same way she’d ride him, knowing just from the way she sounds that she’s getting close.

But she’s not the object of his attention tonight.

Not when you’re right there, unbelievably tangible yet barely within his grasp.

He wants you, affirming the thought as he pushes his underwear down; just enough to wrap his fist around his cock. He doesn’t have time to take it slow, so this will have to do.

In the other room, the noises you make echo in Frank’s mind, playing and replaying until he’s forced to hold onto the concrete wall to maintain any semblance of sanity. He squeezes his eyes shut as he fucks his hand, picturing you all stretched out, taking him until he has no more left to give.  

As if they both hadn’t just spilled into their hands, unable to shake the relief that gave way into yearning, they remember that there is still the matter of the mission at hand.

“I… I think they’re finishing up,” Matt rasps, rolling his chair up to the laptop on the main desk. 

Frank replies with a curt nod, taking his place on Matt’s left. 

“Better?” Elektra exhales, satisfaction now evident in her tone. 

“Always.”

“Same time tomorrow, Darling?” she asks, cheerful. 

“Why don’t I come over to yours, Ellie? We can leave the curtains open again, give New York a little show.”

Elektra clicks her tongue. “Ah, like the one we put on tonight?” 

Frank shoots a sideways glance at Matt. 

She continues, more resolute than before. “I think an in-person show might be better. Don’t you think so, boys?” 

“No goddamn way,” he mouths.

Elektra pouts. “You both came awfully fast, didn’t you?”

Frank was right; they’d listened far too long. To something far too personal. 

Matt swears, searching for a way to end the call. 

“You really think I wouldn’t find out? Amateurs.”

Frank sighs as the dial tone rings in their ears, clapping Matt on the back. “Well, I think our cover’s blown.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Nice knowin’ you, Red. Nice knowin’ you.”

tags {x} for everyone who interacted with the original post/people who might like this 💗 @v4leoftears @devils-dares @chvoswxtch @itwasthereaminuteago @castlesnchurches @reborn-rekall @qu1etwolf @marvelswh0re @munsonownsmyass @murdock-and-the-sea @fxlsealarm @hailey-murdock

[hellsburners]

strain and torment

summary: reader has insane bi panic pairing: matt murdock x male reader x elektra natchios word count: 3.2k warnings: 18+ warning, bi!top matt, bi!male reader, threesomes, p in v sex, anal seggz, reader and elektra do it, dom/sub themes a/n: part 2 of the pain and suffering duo fic!

masterlist | more matt murdock

gif credit

“We’re here,” you said, facing him. His crimson lenses glinted against the porch light, his veiny hands tight around the walking cane. There was a smile on his face, the same face you’ve grown to love and adore, the dimples more prominent.  “Are you sure you could head home alone?” 

“Yes,” he chuckles. “I can manage, you should go rest.” 

“And—that’s it?” you said, teetering. He laughs, that breathy laugh he always makes, the one that also makes you laugh. His hand reaches for your face, calloused fingertips brush your cheek lacing through your hair. You close your eyes, appreciating his warm touch. His other hand wraps around your waist pulling you to him. 

Your chests meet, feeling your heart beat faster and louder, like his alarm in the morning—alerting him. He presses his lips against yours, his stubble prickling a bit. He felt your warmth, your scent, your taste, it was inebriating. You pull back, catching your breath, he pulls you back in. He wants this moment to last, the moments where it was just you and him—happy. 

Matt finally releases you, and a shot of anxiety crashes through him. This won’t last, he thinks. After two weeks of flirting back and forth, he was happy for a time, but he knew the risks. Just a few days ago you found him lumped on the floor unconscious, his eyes sunken in, purple bags around his eyes. He knew how worried you were, the way your breathing would quicken, your heartbeat too fast, and your hands cold and shaking. He hated how it made you feel, that’s why he thought of ending it as soon as possible. Maybe Foggy was right, this lifestyle isn’t suited for a mundane relationship. 

“Goodbye,” he smiled, the guilt eating him up. He turned to walk away, hailing a cab across the street. You head back to your apartment, you notice the way Matt’s mood shifted. It has been bothering you for days. He would always say he fell down the stairs or he slipped, but you’re not dumb, you know how different those bruises are. It worries you too much. 

—

You fumbled to open the door, the keys got caught on some pins. You dragged yourself to the fridge for a drink, you took the box of juice and a glass, pouring yourself a drink. The cold liquid shook your body off of the anxiety, it was soothing in a way. 

“Hello there,” a voice said. Your body jumped, the glass falling from your hand as you turned around. There was a woman in your dining room. She was slim and sharp, she could’ve been a model you thought, with long black hair cascading down her shoulders. She wore a maroon suit, wraps of the red cloth around her waist and hands. Then you saw it, a faint glimmer of silver at her hip, two blades sheathed, fear raised from your chest.

“Who the hell are you?” you shouted, brows furrowed. You could feel the wetness on your feet, under the shards of glass. She stood up from her seat, walking to you in a cat-like manner, slow and precise. 

“I’m no one, especially to you,” she said, her voice low and sultry. Her eyes were dark, like a siren, her red lips sharp as she grinned. 

“So—why are you in my apartment then?” you said, sarcastically. 

“Just to look,” she said, scanning you with her dark gaze, her long lashes batting at you.  

“Okay lady you’re creeping me out,” you said, sweat forming on your forehead. “I need you to leave.”

You inch forward but she quickly grabs the phone on your kitchen counter. She takes a look at your screen, the photo of Matt at Fogwell’s set as your background. “Aww, how cute,” she said. You grabbed the phone from her hand, hiding it away. She had this mischievous look on her face, taunting you. “You must be Matthew’s new boy toy.”

“Boy toy?” you were shocked. “You know Matt? And what’s with this ninja outfit?” 

“Ninja?” she chuckled. “Which part of this get-up says ninja?” You gestured at the blades on her hip. “Ah, smart boy. Matthew’s taste must have improved.”

“Lady, you’re not answering my questions.”

“Because they’re dumb questions,” she said. She inched forward, her long fingers touching your chin. She was beautiful up close, almost otherworldly. Her arm reaches past your shoulder to the fridge to grab the box of juice. She grabs a glass and pours herself a drink as you stand frozen. Your head is riddled with so many questions.

“Fine—I’m Elektra Natchios,” she said, taking a sip of the juice. “And I’m here to save your life.”

—

Matt asked for the cab to stop only a few meters from your apartment. The cab driver was confused, Matt gave the man some money before he left. His senses were off, something was wrong. He could smell it from afar, his head scanned across the street, the smell of the dead. Like rotting corpses. He could also hear metal sliding across each other, like a hundred blades unsheathing. 

He tried to pinpoint where they were coming from and then it hit him, it was coming from your building. He rushed through the people on your street, bumping into shoulders, curses flying around as he hit their bodies a little too strong. Fear inched at his nape, sweat trickling down his skin. 

He reaches the entrance of the building, the door ajar. He ran to the stairs, running to your unit, he was getting tired but soon the adrenaline came over him. He reached the fourth floor, his senses were off, and he couldn’t find your scent. He runs to the last door on the right, a body lumped on the floor the taste of iron on Matt’s lips. 

He tried, he tried to find it—any semblance of your presence but there was none. He could smell the faintest jasmine scent, a familiar scent to Matt, a scent he knew would only signal bad news. 

“Where is he?” he said, entering the room. 

The slender figure, wiping the blood off her face, left a last kick on another man on the floor. The entire room was a mess, tables were broken, vases toppled over, and around twelve men were dead on your apartment floor. “Oh there you are,” she said, taking a glass of juice from the counter. “I haven’t seen you for months and you don’t even say hi.”

“Answer my question Elektra,” he said. 

“He’s safe with me,” dropping the glass on the floor, a thousand shattered pieces littering the already messy room. “He’s on the way to my penthouse with my driver.”

“Who did this?”

“Your little devil adventures pissed off the wrong men,” she said. She reached down to the body on her feet, pulling on the man’s hair. “Tell him who sent you,” her blade placed on his jugular.

“The Rose sends his regards,” the man grunts, blood pooling on his mouth before he passes. 

“Richard Fisk?” Matt said.

“Putting the Kingpin behind bars left the city ripe for the taking,” Elektra said. “Stay with me for a while, we can think of how we can deal with this there—plus he’s there too.”

She noticed the way his hand clenched, knuckling white as his nails dug into his palms. She touches his hand, rubbing her thumb to soothe him. “Elektra—I can’t lose him,” his voice hitches, tears forming. 

“And you won’t,” she whispered. “I swear, I’ll help you.”

“How would I know you’re not deceiving me again,” he said, pulling his hand away from her. “There’s always a price when you’re involved.”

“Richard Fisk is ruining business for me. Help me get rid of him and you’ll never see me again,” her lips graze Matt’s ear. “Plus—you and me fighting criminals, like old times,” she smirked.

Matt bit his lips in contempt.

—

Elektra’s penthouse was big, with high ceilings and massive windows painted gray. It was cold and dark, You sat near the kitchen counter, your hands shaking. The sight from your apartment was frightening. Elektra took down a bunch of armed men, her body moving swiftly with such grace she was like a red sword cutting through the men like nothing. 

She managed to drag you outside the apartment, shoving you inside a black SUV, and told the driver to bring you to her penthouse. You were in so much shock during the car ride. Your home would probably be a crime scene, all your belongings left there for the cops to find, you even left your phone there, with all your precious pictures of Matt. 

The door swung open. You looked to see Elektra enter the room, her clothes soaked in blood. Behind her was Matt, his suit all messy and his hair all tousled. You ran to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. His hands gripped onto you hard. “God, I’m glad you’re safe,” he whispered. 

“What happened?” you asked, Elektra vanished from the scene, her clothes left on the floor trailing to her room. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth,” he said, his hands firm on your waist. You saw the duffel bag Matt had left on the doorstep, a billy club protruding from the opening.

“Are you?” you uttered. “The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?”

He nods, it would explain everything, the bruises, the wounds, the constant pain weighing on his shoulders as if he carried the world. “How?” you said, your brows furrowed as your hands roamed his chest. 

“It’s a lot to explain, but trust me I’ll tell you everything,” he said. “No more secrets.” 

Your hands went to his collar, pulling him into a kiss. His lips, were warm against yours as his arms hugged your waist. His kiss was filled with want, pulling you tighter to take you in. It was feverish like he craved for your taste on his lips. He breathed in, taking in your warm scent into his lungs, the fear from earlier leaving his senses. 

His fingers reached under the hem of your shirt, calloused fingertips warm against your back. Your hands smoothed through his soft hair, his lips falling to your cheek, down to your jaw, to your neck, the roughness of his chin pricking your neck. His lips pressed onto your skin, the tip of his tongue toying with your jugular. He would leave a few marks on your neck, drawing moans out of you, It was lewd, you had forgotten you weren’t in your homes. 

You heard the clinking of glasses, Elektra was setting up three glasses and an expensive bottle of scotch. “You horny boys ready for a drink or what?” she sneered. Matt sighed, letting go of you. 

The three of you shared a drink, the bitterness surely shook the anxiety away. “Care to discuss how you two know each other?” you asked. Matt choked on his drink, and Elektra smirked. 

“Yes Matthew, do tell your boyfriend here how we met.”

“Elektra was my ex in college,” Matt said, his voice hoarse. 

“Ah,” you said, taking another sip of the liquor. You avoided their gazes, swirling your glass around doing anything to distract yourself from imagining Matt on top of Elektra or Elektra on top of Matt or—

“If it’s any consolation for you,” she said. “I broke it off. Not that Matthew wasn’t an excellent lover, he surely is well endowed.”

You choked on your drink. Matt shook his head in disbelief. 

“Especially in the bedroom,” she said. “His skill is unparalleled.” 

“Can we stop this conversation,” Matt broke off, waving his hand around. 

“So, how long are we staying here?” you asked. 

“As long as Fisk’s son is brought to justice,” he said. “We’ll take care of it.”

You downed the drink, the alcohol burning your throat. You noticed Elektra staring at you, her dark eyes piercing through you like she could tell all your secrets just from reading your body language. You look back at her, your brows furrowed in confusion. She smiles, that same devious smile she makes, like a temptress. 

“Does it bother you?” she asked. Matt had left to get your things settled for the night. 

“No,” you answered, bile rising from your stomach. Was it jealousy? Or utter curiosity? That Matt would settle for you after dating someone who looked like a Greek goddess.  “Do you have a problem with me? From the moment you saw me you’ve been taunting me.”

Her smile fades.

“If anything I think the jealous one here is you.”

She chuckles under her breath. “I’m not jealous,” she smiled, inching closer to you. “Matt had spoken to me about you, how much he adores you. And somehow it intrigued me.”

“Intrigued you?”

“How it’ll be like to have you,” she said. “To see what Matthew sees in you.”

She sets her index finger on your chin bringing your face to her. You could smell her lip gloss, a soft cherry scent. You inched closer as well, your breaths meeting. Heat rose to your cheeks painting them red. Her slender hands found your waist, hooking onto a belt loop and pulling you in. 

“What’s going on?” you heard Matt clear his throat. Elektra knew he heard everything, and her stable heart would indicate she was telling the truth. 

She spun you so you were facing Matt, his shirt abandoned leaving him in his trousers. “Just wanted to play. Your boyfriend here seemed eager.”

“Is that true?” he said, his voice stern and commanding. “Do you want to play with Elektra?”

“Only if you allow it,” you said. Matt’s eyebrow raised as if you just said the wrong thing. “I meant, only if you allow it, sir.” 

“Oh, has he been trained well?” Elektra said, her hands finding your hair, tugging. 

“Yeah, always obedient,” he came close to you and Elektra. “You know your safe words right?”

“Yes sir.” 

“Good,” he said, taking his head to your lips. A soft whimper leaves your mouth, you can hear Elektra chuckle. Matt’s large hands find your waist, reaching behind to grasp a handful of your ass. 

You could feel Elektra leave soft kisses on your neck, her hands roaming all over your torso. Your knees buckle from all their touching, your knees almost giving out. She finds the growing erection in your center, her hands palming it. You cry in Matt’s kiss, falling out of balance. 

Elektra grabs the two of you by the wrists, dragging you to her room. It was massive, with big windows overlooking the city skyline, a king-sized bed with maroon sheets, and some gym equipment at the side. 

Matt sits on the bed, palming his erection. He pulls you to his lap, sucking on your neck leaving marks. Elektra comes to join you, standing in between your legs to press a kiss on your lips. She was sweet and her lips soft. 

“Show Elektra how good you are sweetheart,” Matt whispered. 

You knelt in front of Matt taking his cock out. You left soft kisses along his erected shaft, licking the from the base to the leaking tip. Elektra went to sit on the small chair near her vanity. Her hands playing with her sex. 

Your lips pressed on the tip of Matt’s cock, and he shuddered from the contact. You slowly envelop the head with your wet lips, taking him till your nose hit the base of his cock. Matt lets out a guttural moan, his hand gripping your hair. 

Elektra played with her clit, circling her fingers on the sensitive nub. You could hear her moan just from watching you, you start to touch your sex, anything to deal with your aching cock. 

“See? He’s a good slut,” Matt said. You continued to bob your head on his cock going down and sucking up. 

“Let’s see if he can do the same here,” Elektra said. You crawled your way to her, her panties already gone, her sex glistening against the dim lights. You present your tongue to her as you lap on her slit, licking and sucking on her clit while you tease her entrance. She shudders, pulling you in through your hair, her thighs shaking on each side of your face. 

You could feel Matt pull your pants and underwear off, his stubbled face in between your cheeks soon after. You continue to taste her at the same pace Matt was licking your hole, gripping tightly on your ass as he ate you out. 

“Shit—” Elektra moans, her long nails scratching your scalp. 

“Is that good mistress?” you said, looking up at her with tears running down your face, your lips swollen and wet. 

“Very good,” she whimpers once more. 

After Elektra came for the first time you were soon on her bed. Matt lying down, you straddling his dick, while Elektra rode Matt’s face. You and Elektra were moaning from Matt’s actions, his thick cock filling you well while his tongue played with her clit. 

Your hands held onto Matt’s chest for stability, Elektra pulling you in for a kiss, her mouth swollen and drooling as she pressed onto you. She moved her hips forward and back on Matt’s face as she soon came for a second time, an ethereal glow plastered on her face. 

Matt later placed you on the bed, your legs on each side of his waist as he fucked you more vigorously. Elektra lay next to you stroking your cock as Matt riled his hips inside you, his hair all wet and his lips swollen. Precum leaked onto your belly, Elektra took some of it to taste and to use as lube for herself. She later took your cock inside her, straddling you as Matt took his fill inside you. 

Matt’s arms wrapped around Elektra’s waist, fondling her breasts and tweaking her nipples while another hand played with her clit. Sharing a kiss, they looked like a pornographic painting, Matt was big and full of muscle while Elektra was small and delicate. Elektra’s pussy felt so good on your cock, and Matt’s thickness only drove you closer to unraveling. 

“You look so pretty taking us sweetheart,” Matt groans, Elektra agreeing with him. They bent over to share a kiss with you, their tongues meeting yours as you moaned. 

“I’m close—” you said, Elektra smirked. She rolled her hips harder, clenching on your cock as she rode her high. Her body convulsed on your dick she was shaking so hard it sent vibrations on your cock triggering your climax. 

You came inside her and the vibrations from your bodies only aided in Matt’s release. The three of you were moaning messes as you came crashing down on the bed, naked bodies all wet and panting. 

Matt smoothed your hair out before kissing you on the lips, Elektra doing the same. 

You spent the month living with Elektra, the sex continued until the mission was done. The three of you spent the nights researching and fucking all over her loft, like animals.  Sooner or later Matt found out Elektra had an ulterior motive which led her to leave again. Your relationship with Matt never changed but you still thought of those nights whenever you lay with Matt. 

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

[zomtart]

Via’s Tuna-Tober 2024!🐟💙💕

so excited to participate in Tuna-Tober, organized by the lovely @pastafossa 🩷

I’m not sure if I’m gonna get through all of the days but I’m gonna do as many as I can :) here’s a list of the prompts I’m doing (they might change and some aren’t decided yet), once they are written they’ll be linked here! Day 1 will be posted sometime today💗💗

key:

🌷 - fluff

🥀 - angst

🔥 - smut (18+)

Day 1: Falling Asleep In A Hospital Room🌷 - Frank Castle x reader

Day 2: “I’m in love with you, and that scares me.” + A Hug That Lasts A Little Too Long🌷 - Karen Page x reader

Day 3: Broken🥀 - Frank Castle x reader

Day 4: “Are you blushing?”🌷 - Frank Castle x OC

Day 5: Watergun Fight🌷 - Matt Murdock x reader

Day 6: “Are you jealous?”🌷 - Karen Page x reader

Day 7: Nightmare🥀 - GIRLDAD!FRANK CASTLE

Day 8: "You can sleep here tonight"🌷🥀 - Frank Castle x reader

Day 9: Anxiety🥀 - Matt Murdock x reader

Day 10: ?

Day 11: Moving in Together🌷 - ? x reader

Day 12: “You remembered?”🌷 - Karen Page x Reader

Day 13: “Beg me for it”🔥 - Frank Castle x reader

Day 14: ? - Matt Murdock x reader

Day 15: Hiding an injury🥀 - ? x reader

Day 16: Exhaustion🥀 - ? x reader

Day 17: “I’m not leaving you”🥀 - Matt Murdock x Reader

Day 18: Scars🥀 - Elektra Natchios x reader

Day 19: Touch Starved🌷 - Matt Murdock x reader

Day 20: There was only one bed🌷 - Karen Page x reader

Day 21: “Was that an order?”🔥 - Matt Murdock x reader

Day 22: ?

Day 23: “If you won’t take care of yourself, I will”🌷 - Frank Castle x reader

Day 24: Drunken Confession🌷 - Karen Page x reader

Day 25: Playing With Their Hair🌷 - ? x reader

Day 26: Under the Desk🔥 - Karen Page x reader

Day 27: Near Death Experience🥀 - ? x reader

Day 28: ?

Day 29: “Talk to me, please”🥀 - Karen Page x reader

Day 30: Road Trip🌷 - GIRLDAD!FRANK CASTLE

Day 31: Blanket Hog🌷 - ? x reader

[chvoswxtch]

“idk if it’s too much to ask but can i ask for the song red based on your past milestone headcanon of reader and matt dating but her and elektra are besties? thank you and congrats on 3k! 🌟”

aaah i totally forgot to copy paste my quote lol it was suppose to be: I can't believe that it's finally me and you, and you and me. Just us, and your friend Steve. (that tik tok audio haha)

something just about elektra and matt’s girlfriend being besties and ganging up on him lives in my mind rent free

HAHAHAHAHAHA I KNOW THAT AUDIO

oh this is perfect for them

I know you said red but I got a lil carried away with this one and it's definitely over a 100 words so i'm putting it under midnights :)

enjoy!!!

blurb below the cut

just you and me, and your friend ellie (matt's version ft. elektra)

I can't believe that it's finally me and you, and you and me / just us, and your friend ellie

“What the hell?”

Matt’s thick brows were scrunched together in perplexity with a crease of irritation settling between them. You and Elektra were snuggled up together in the bed you and Matt shared, surrounded by snacks, with a movie playing on the tv Elektra had gotten for you. Tilting his head to the side slightly, he caught the bashful smile stretching on your lips and the curl of a mischievous smirk on Elektra’s.

“Sorry Matty, it’s girls night.”

Matt let out a scoff as he placed one of his hands on his hips, using the other to loosely gesture towards Elektra’s direction.

“You can’t have girls' night at her place so I don’t get kicked out of my own bed?”

The uptick in your heart’s rhythm caught his attention, but before he had a chance to question it, Elektra sat up fully in bed and tried to contain her grin.

“Unfortunately, the penthouse is under renovation Matthew. But, Y/N graciously offered to let me stay with the two of you until it’s finished.”

Matt’s brows rose considerably up his forehead as he turned his head towards your direction and gawked at you.

“What?”

Sitting up on your knees, you tucked your hair behind your ears and gently bit down on your bottom lip.

“She needed a place to stay, Matty.”

“She has other places to stay. I’m pretty sure she has real estate in a third of New York, and there’s always hotels. It’s not like she can’t afford it.”

“But why do that when I can stay with my friends.”

Matt was outnumbered, and as he settled on the couch to get comfortable, he let out a string of curses under his breath. He could hear you and Elektra giggling together as the two of you started another movie. He stared blankly up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how he had gotten kicked out of his own bed by his girlfriend and his ex.

It was going to be a long night.

[ophelia-loves-desdemona]

This is the first time I've ever posted something hear but I do kinda need help I'm currently writing a Daredevil fanFic and I need help for a Faceclaim of my character I give you infos about her down below 🥰

- she is Matt and Elektras Daughter

- she is in her teens (so preferably a actress that fits that age)

- has dark hair eye colour doesn't matter

-would be amazing if she looks similar to at least one of her parents maybe even her Grandpa

Thank you guys have a great day 🥰

[imma-devil]

Girls & Boys - blurb

Pairings: Oberyn Martell x fem!reader x Ellaria Sand, Matt Murdock x fem!reader x Elektra Natchios, Damon Salvatore x fem!reader x Elena Gilbert,

Warnings: NSFW (Minors dni)

Tags: Threesomes (MFF), Bisexual [used as an umbrella term], switch!reader, food play, cunnilingus, fingering, shifting position, fainting, multiple orgasms, praise, degradation, bruises, making out, cum eating, oral fixation?, love bites, choking, finger fucking, cum shower, first time, teasing, little to no proofreading.

Word Count: 1,287

A/N: I have fed my bisexual fantasies, I will sleep good tonight. My third piece for Lazy Ghouls Spooktober under prompt 'threesomes.'

You can not take my work or translate it without my permission. This piece of fiction is mine, and only the characters belong to their original creators.

Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand

Both are vocal with their praises in adoration of you. 

Oberyn is far more doting in his praise, opting to whisper how good you make him feel in your ear or compliment your beauty while you ride him. When he’s between your legs, he likes to smother the compliments that flow from his lips into your clavicle… his Dornish accent growing heavier with each second he comes closer to release. 

Ellaria is different. She throws out compliments with the energy of a command, intertwining demeaning language in between. “You’re so good to me my pretty little whore~” she’d usher out between aches and moans as she rode your tongue. 

Oberyn and Ellaria both chose you, but let’s be honest… Ellaria is the one who really picked you. Oberyn loves all women and is willing to please the many if granted the choice. He treats you nicely, but it’s Ellaria who acts as if you belong to her. She parades you for all to see like you’re a prize. 

Ellaria often likes to watch Oberyn have his way with you. But you’re not innocent, you purposely give her lustful glances or all-out keep eye contact with Ellaria; no matter if Oberyn’s hips are snapping into yours or if he’s spending endless minutes between your legs tending to your core. 

When you do this, Ellaria more than likely just observes and smirks at your playful nature. But sometimes, if you push her too far, she’ll shamelessly lift her dress to toy with her heat with her fingers. She’ll make sure you can both hear her moans. 

Once Oberyn has worked you over the edge more than enough times, he’ll tend to his wife. He’d bend her over your torso, making sure you feel every thrust no matter how exhausted you are. 

When he cums, he makes sure to pull out so he can share his spend amongst you two. His ropes of cum coating Ellaria’s back and your tits. For good measure, he’d swipe through the white coat with his two fingers, just so that he could find it a place on your tongue. 

When one of your many escapades is finished, Ellaria feeds fruit platters by hand into Oberyn's mouth. But, don’t feel left out. Oberyn will be sure to cradle the ripe grapes or strawberry slivers between his teeth so that he can share them with you. He likes the taste mixture when he kisses you. 

Ellaria will get jealous. She’ll take over, kissing you so longingly that the night begins again. She’ll repeat mantras between heated breaths, “Mine” “You’re mine, little viper.”

Oberyn will watch contentedly for a little while before joining in on the fun. 

Matthew Murdock and Elektra Natchios

Matt will definitely be in a mood when you three finally get it on for the first time. He gets quiet, thrumming with energy that he can barely contain. Unable to quell the devil within him, especially with all the history that rests between him and Elektra. 

Elektra, who on the battlefield acts like a wild panther, is tamed to a house cat when under the attention of both you and Matt. She becomes pliable under Matt’s rough hands and reduced to whimpers when you work her sensitive bud with your tongue. 

Elektra becomes increasingly more sensitive with Matt’s hand around her throat, his hips rolling to meet hers, dragging out a moan from her lips with every thrust. After all, Matt typically liked to take things slow, opting to savor it. 

Matt would fight off release at the glide of your tongue on his shaft, prodding at his head in sparse intervals each time he unsheaths himself from Elektra’s cunt.

A frequent position revisited by the group has you on your back in missionary for Matt; Elekra mounting you with her back arched and ass presented. Matt plows into you from this position, his hands marking deep bruises into your hips. All while your hand reaches around Elektra’s thigh, plunging two fingers into her eager pussy. Elektra would be fucked dizzy from your fingers, trying to ground herself by latching her lips onto yours. 

Once you’d cum more than one time from Matt’s cock, he would switch to Elektra, fucking up into her with a speed that left her breathless. She wouldn’t be able to think, especially with you rubbing tight circles onto her clit. 

After Elektra cums, likely for a fourth or fifth time, she quite literally passes out. Every time this happens, you and Matt often dote on her. The two of you cleaning up, especially when looking after her. Matt would have a content smile resting peacefully upon his lips. 

Any time the three of you have sex, it likely ends in you and Matt having idle conversation before you all sleep the night off. When you wake, Elektra always makes a show of wearing Matt’s shirt. The article of clothing often looks like a dress on her tiny frame. 

Elektra would return to her sharp flirtations and witty remarks as if nothing happened. But you and Matt both know that you could reel her in with a few simple moves. 

Damon and Elena 

Elena is needy. The only way this works is if you accommodate that. So, be ready to have to direct your energy towards her in any relationship, including physical. But, lucky for you, Elena actually was okay with a threesome with her boyfriend’s best friend. Funnily enough, it was her idea. It would also be her first time with a partner of the same sex, as well as her first time having a threesome. 

When things started off, Damon sat in audience with a glass of bourbon; the buttons of his black shirt undone as he slumped into the couch. He mirrors a separate couch, there seated are you and Elena.

She kneels in front of you, her hands pressing into her thighs in a clear display of anxiousness. Even the rock music that plays faintly in the background doesn’t ease her nerves. 

You ask for her permission with every move; allowing you to comb your fingers through the silkiness of her straight hair, lifting her chin in a delicate hold, and placing cautious kisses on her plush lips. Eventually, her hands migrate to drape over your shoulders, signaling a slight release of her hesitancy. 

It's not long before Damon abandons his empty glass to sit behind her, gently kneading his fingers into her dainty shoulder blades. His mouth found its spot against the pulse point of her neck, leaving pink blemishes as he traveled up the length of her fair skin to linger below her jaw. 

Elena lifts her head to offer him room, growing heavy on her shoulders. You decide to reflect his actions, following what Damon knows to already be successful in wooing the Gilbert girl. Elena shivers at the sensation, not used to the second person. A faint whimper makes its way past her lips, to which you and Damon both smile.  

As the night progresses, you end up behind Elena’s back, the two of you lying on Damon’s bed in the boarding house. You support her weight as she leans into you. Damon stands at the bedpost, between her legs. He’s purposeful with his languid thrusts, which you accent with your fingers on Elena’s clit. Your other hand traces the curves of her body, slowly traversing the smoothness of her skin. 

Elena likes being pampered, and it shows in the arousal coating her legs. 

“Look at how wet you are,” Damon boasts with a mischievous glint. 

Elena is silent besides the moans that fill the room like a song, hiding her face behind her hands in embarrassment.

[chvoswxtch]

i’ve been thinking about this fic a lot lately and I want you to know it’s inspired something super slutty with these two and I can’t wait to share it with you <3

|| No Show ||

Female reader x Matt Murderdock x Elektra

Tags/warnings: threesome, oral sex (female rec), p in v unprotected sex. E 18+

A/n: I've been hoarding this for a long while and finally finished it off. This is what everyone wants, right? 😉

As you down the dregs of your second drink and were considering ordering a third, you finally admit to yourself that you'd been stood up. You checked your phone yet again, the battery draining fast from the amount of times you'd unlocked it and refreshed for notifications just in case. It was even more frustrating that you'd been ghosted as this guy had actually seemed like he was really nice. Well shit, turns out they're all the fucking same.

You raise your head, about to stand up and get the bartender's attention but as you look up a woman was there, right in front of your table, smiling at you. She's very beautiful, with poker straight dark chocolate coloured hair, a deep red dress that skims her curves with a pair of killer heels to match, and dark eyes that draw you in.

"Um, can I help you?" You ask politely.

She smiles again. "If your date hasn't been ambushed by ninjas on his way here, he's not worth it darling." She turns to the bar. "Another round, and whatever the lady wants, bring it to our table."

She has an accent, from somewhere in Europe you guessed. And she smells amazing. You watch her tip the bartender generously before she turns back to you.

"Come join us. I know it's no fun drinking alone. My name is Elektra, and he," she gestured to the low table in the far corner of the restaurant. "is Matthew."

You look over to where your eyes had been subconsciously flitting most of the night. You supposed it couldn't be helped, they were an attractive couple, and the woman, Elektra, had briefly caught your eye when she saw you looking over earlier. The man you already knew was Matt Murdock, the Kingpin, one of the most powerful men in the city. He was famous, handsome, and extremely dangerous. And you were let-down, bored and had nothing to lose.

Despite his blindness, he throws you a grin as Elektra walks you over to their table, you offer your hand and are both taken aback and charmed as he brings it to his lips, kissing the back of it with a softness you didn't expect.

"Who's this you've brought me 'lektra? A new friend?"

You could feel the power almost rolling off him at this close distance, he was sharply dressed in an expensive tailored suit that probably cost your salary, and it perfectly matched the colour of Elektra's dress. His tie was loosened slightly around his neck with the top button of his dark plum silk shirt undone, his eyes hidden behind a pair of deep red oval glasses and red hair slightly ruffled as if someone had just run their fingers through it. It was in no way an exaggeration to say he had devilish good looks.

You introduced yourself to both of them and Elektra beckoned you to sit next to her.

"She had a very undeserving date." She explained, bringing colour to your cheeks as you shyly sipped on your cocktail. "I thought we would could show her a good time and perhaps make it up to her."

"Oh my, of course," Matthew purrs, "men are such assholes, aren't they?"

Elektra cackles and you soon join her, agreeing and clinking glasses and falling into easy conversation with these two utterly entrancing people who, currently unbeknownst to you, were going to show you the best night of your life.

A couple of hours had passed, along with a few more drinks. Elektra fed you canapés and you were laughing more and more as it seemed to bring the most gorgeous smile to Matthew's lips, and somehow you found yourself eager to please him. When you turn to look over the room you realised some of the patrons were looking right back.

"Oh, people are looking…" you whispered, trying to sink down and hide in your drink.

Matt chuckles. "Yes, staring at us. Jealousy is such a terrible thing. Do you perhaps want to go somewhere a little more private, sweetheart?"

You looked between them, unsure, your heart suddenly racing at the potential meaning in the question, as well as the added endearment.

"I-I…" your liquid courage had faded slightly but the soft warm touch of Elektra's hand over yours relaxed you more than you'd have thought as Matt continued.

"No pressure at all angelface, but I do have a nice little room upstairs."

Elektra leans in, "He means a penthouse. He owns this entire building."

You can't help but gawp slightly, this was no cheap diner you were sitting in. "You own this place? Do you live here?"

Elektra smiles and Matthew shrugs like it's nothing. "Some of the time. He flicks a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. "Would you like to see? Like I said, no pressure, but we'd both love if you would join us."

You turn the proposition over in your mind - they were two of the most gorgeous people you had spent time with, they even smelled amazing, and they only seemed to want to show you a good time. Your eyes absently follow Elektra's slender fingers to Matt's thigh where she strokes and squeezes. He leans over to her and whispers something that makes her lips split in a grin showing nearly all of her beautiful white teeth.

You finish your drink, licking your lips and picking up your purse, your mind suddenly very firmly made up.

"Show me then."

The ride in the private elevator up to the penthouse is something else. Elektra took your hand in hers, leading you out of the restaurant as Matt was leaving a very generous tip before catching you up. You're all smiles and giggles as Matt presses his key against the lock of the lift and Elektra pulls you inside.

"You're such a pretty one," she was like a big cat that has you pinned and ready to devour as soon as the door slid closed, and you blush again as she strokes the side of your face, so very close to you you can feel her breath. "whoever the jerk was that stood you up should be cursing himself right now…"

Her fingers slide under your chin, her thumb resting lightly on your lower lip leaving you dumbfounded as her sultry gaze meets your eyes.

"May I?" She asks, and you're only half certain of what she's asking permission for but you nod quickly, murmuring a soft yes that melts into a moan as her mouth meets your own. She moves her lips against yours so delicately, like she knows you may never have kissed a woman before. She tastes as good as she looks, her scent and the sensation of her warm wet tongue on yours making your body heat up infinitely, and your hands automatically reach for her then halt, unsure of what's allowed.

As if he can hear your thoughts, Matthew answers from behind you. "Touch her, go on."

Your tentative fingers curl gently around the back of her long elegant neck holding her as she deepens the kiss, while your other hand grazes up the outside of her thigh where the split in her dress reveals her smooth bare skin. Her own hands continue to snake through your hair and curl around your waist, holding you closer so you can feel her warmth, feel the soft press of her breasts against your own.

You gasp, leaning against the wall of the elevator and tilting your head back as Elektra trails more kisses under your jaw and down the side of your neck to your decolletage.

Your eyes close and you feel Matthew beside you. "She's good isn't she, doll?"

You moan in agreement as Elektra fondles your breasts through your black strappy dress, teasing your hardened nipples with her fingers, teeth and tongue. You were already aroused at the bar, and you squeeze your thighs together, feeling yourself getting wetter with every passing second, still wondering if this is all a dream.

Then the elevator pings, signaling that you've reached the top floor and the doors open to reveal a tastefully extravagant penthouse apartment before you.

"Oh, here we are!" She says teasingly, grabbing your hand again and Matt's, leading you both to the bedroom. It's the biggest bed you've ever seen and you wouldn't be surprised to learn if it's had many more people than three in it.

Matt's hand sneaks around your waist and you hold your breath as his lips brush your shoulder. "Can I get you anything sweetie?"

Your eyes are drawn to his plump lips as he runs his wicked tongue over to wet them.

"I… no, thank you Mr Murdock."

His grin is dark and delicious. "'Mr Murdock'. Mm, I like that…"

He leaves you temporarily alone with Elektra as he goes to the bar to fix a drink. She guides you to the edge of the bed, her deep brown eyes roving over your form as she raises her hand to your shoulder, pulling the strap to one side, and you shrug off the other, letting your dress to puddle on the floor leaving you in black lacy panties. You reach for her again, your fingers trailing up her arms and leaning in closer as you kiss for a second time. She breaks it off gently to turn around, raising her hair up so you can access the zip of her dress.

"Would you please?"

You oblige of course, taking your time drawing it down, kissing her neck and her shoulders as she did for you, down between her shoulder blades and down her spine to her lower back where you kneel as she pushes the remaining fabric off over her bare hips. She hadn't been wearing any underwear all evening.

She turns again and your face is right in front of her neatly trimmed mound. She looks down at you and smiles, beckoning you to your feet and then guiding you to kneel on the bed, following you and slotting her thighs between your own. You want to kiss her again and she welcomes it, her hands moving yours to her breasts as she encourages you to explore. She's so very firm yet yielding, her entire body is sculpted so athletically but you marvel at her softness, desperate to feel and perhaps taste all of her.

A whimper escapes your throat when you feel her soft touch between your thighs, her fingers stroking lightly over your panties, teasing you through the fabric.

You moan into her mouth, your tongue lapping softly against hers when she slips her hand inside to touch your slick cunt.

"Mmm, so nice and wet darling, good girl." She purrs and you feel your pussy throb and ache at her praise.

"Does she like it?" You hear Matthew ask as Elektra slowly starts rubbing right over your clit then slides two of her fingers down between your soaking folds, gently pushing them up inside you.

"Oh yes, fuck… yes!" You cry out, whining at the sudden loss when she withdraws, licking your juices from them.

"Mm, I'd say so." You can hear her smile.

"It's okay angel, lie down." Matt is at the foot of the bed, now his tie is gone and shirt is undone you can see just how incredibly ripped his body is. Your eyes cast downward to the rather large bulge in his slacks and you can't help how your body automatically clenches around nothing as you fantasize about him fucking you.

"I think she sees something she likes…" Elektra notes and you turn to look at her hungrily.

"I do, oh I do, but I want to… can I taste you first?" You ask her tentatively.

"Oh my darling, of course…" she carefully moves over you, hovering over your face, her gorgeous pussy on display for you. You quickly wrap your arms around her thighs and pull her down onto your mouth, reveling in the sensual sound she makes as your tongue licks a slow, wide stripe right up the middle of her. You discover you love her taste, musky but sweet, and you lap up as much of it as you can, swirling your tongue around and suckling on her swollen clit just the way that you would like, keen to find out if she does too.

You jerk as you feel warm hands on your hips, fingers hooking around the waistband of your panties and pulling them slowly down your legs. The bed dips slightly as you feel him, the kingpin, hitch your legs up and spread them gently apart. You moan deeply into Elektra's pussy as the warm whisper of his breath fans over your own exposed core.

"Forgive me, I just had this overwhelming urge to make you come on my mouth. Can I taste you, beautiful?" Matt asks so sweetly you could never say no, but you feel like he would stop right away if you ever did. You hear him as he takes a deep inhale and groans.

"You smell so delicious, little dove,"

You whimper again, still licking and fucking the beautiful woman above you with your tongue as you feel Matt swipe his thumb through your arousal, spreading it over your sensitive bud before he puts his mouth on you.

Your whole body feels alight. Turned on beyond belief, you encourage Elektra to grind onto your mouth as Matthew's extremely talented tongue works on taking you ever closer to coming apart. When he slides two of his fingers inside you briefly think of a shitty joke about blind men and g-spots before he finds yours with apparently zero effort, making you moan loud and buck your hips uncontrollably. He seems to know exactly what you like as if he's reading your body like Braille, you swear you can feel him smugly grinning against your cunt before he draws away for a second to speak.

"Think you can make her cum when I make you cum?"

"Oh she can Matthew, I know she can." Elektra answers breathlessly for you while you double down, trying your best to keep the rhythm that she likes while Matt fucks you with his fingers just the way you need. You feel your orgasm zeroing in, and you hold her fast to you as you start to shake. He latches onto your clit, flicking the tip and flat of his tongue over and over.

"Yes, just like that sweetheart, that's a good girl…"

And you don't know how but he makes you squirt as you come for the first time, gushing hard over his hand as he pumps his fingers inside you until you can't take any more. Your loud shuddering moans mingle with Elektra's as she throws her head back and you feel her twitching around you as she keeps grinding her wet pussy into your lips and tongue as she reaches her peak too.

You let her ride her pleasure out and she carefully dismounts lying on the bed beside you, turning onto her side to kiss her essence from your mouth as you both pant and gasp from the aftershocks of your orgasms.

"Fuck. I- I've never done any of that before!" You laugh with a warm feeling of relief, your body relaxing like goo into the mattress and they both smile, Matt making you giggle with the soft kisses he's trailing along your inner thighs.

"You are so good for us darling, so, so good." Elektra sighs with pleasure, and you shimmy further back onto the bed, propping yourself up on some pillows as you watch Matt stand and take off his pants and tented silk boxers in one smooth motion. His cock is impressive to say the least, springing up from between his thick thighs to smack against the tempting landscape of well defined abdominal muscles. You can't help but stare as he strokes himself with his hand as if he's putting on a show just for you.

"Tell me you're not glad your date stood you up." Elektra asks, grinning at you wickedly and you're almost surprised you're not drooling.

"So incredibly glad…' you reply, watching as Murdock teases his thumb over the head of his cock.

"Would you like to ride him, pretty girl?" She gestures to Matt as you watch him prowl onto the bed and settle down on his back beside you. "He's very good…" she adds.

You're practically eating him with your eyes. "Please… yes, god, yes please-" the words tumble out of your mouth and you try your best to hold yourself together as he guides you closer, his hands smoothing over your hips as you steady yourself on all fours above him.

Delicate fingertips dance across the skin of your back, your ass and around to your inner thighs making you let out a breath you'd been holding as he cups his hand over your pussy and pulls you down with the other behind your neck to his lips.

He tastes of you at first, but it melts away and lets you become addicted to the deeper, more delicious essence that's just so him. You may be on top but he's entirely in control, his hand slipping around under your jaw to your throat and holding you there as he licks his tongue against yours making you moan with pure want. He teases you, sliding his fingers between your folds through your wetness and leaving you needy as he takes his hand away to spread it over his cock. The action makes you clench and the corner of his mouth pulls up as if he can sense it.

"I think you're ready for me, aren't you sweetheart?"

You let out the breath you were holding, and your affirmation comes out as more of a moan than words.

He smiles, holding himself in hand, teasing you, running the head of his hard cock through your slick needy cunt so painfully slowly you want to beg him to hurry up and just ram you with it. But oh, the anticipation when he's lined up, just before he eases you down onto him creates a sizzling heat that spreads like a wildfire through your body, when you finally sink onto him and he fills you full.

"Mm angel, you feel so. fucking. good!"

His voice deepens to almost-purr, and you close your eyes, let him guide your hips with his hands, let him push a river of nonsensical euphoric words and whimpers from your lips as you begin to ride him.

"This okay for you, kitten?" He inquires with a grin.

You almost splutter out a laugh at the innocence in his question as he's fucking you into oblivion, but you're too lost in the sensation, too cock dumb to form any actual words so you just moan and nod hoping he can feel it.

Elektra's arms embrace you from behind, guiding you to sit up on your knees. Her hands cup your breasts and your head falls back against her shoulder as she teases and pinches your peaked nipples, connecting a fiery jolt of pleasure right to your core. Her body is molded perfectly to yours, moving with you as you rise and fall, her hand snaking down to your hip, her fingers interlocking with Matt's on your heated skin while the other slides slowly down your stomach and between your legs. She touches you again, drawing firm tight circles around your throbbing clit in time with Matthew's hips as they snap powerfully, relentlessly upward.

"Oh sweet girl, I can feel you getting closer…"

A moan escapes from your parted lips, they're driving you hard and fast to a mind blowing crescendo…

"C'mon beautiful, let go for me. Let me feel you come."

It's impossible to deny him or Elektra, crying out with pleasure as you reach your peak, watching in amazement as the Kingpin of Hell's Kitchen follows you into ecstasy as your pussy clenches repeatedly around his cock. He moans so beautifully, bucking up into you as your body milks him for all he's worth. Elektra is pushing you just that little bit farther until you're on the edge of yet another orgasm.

"Such a good girl for us…" her silky voice soothes into your ear until you're coming yet again, shuddering with overstimulation and begging her to stop. With aching thighs you carefully dismount from Matt's softening cock. He immediately pulls you close, kissing your forehead, Elektra curls her arms around you too bracketing you between them both and nuzzling into your nape. A contented sigh leaves your lips

The next morning once you're washed and treated to an incredible breakfast, it's finally time to leave this unbelievable bubble of sin that you'd been swept up into. You linger by the elevator door, Matthew has already called you a car at your request.

You suddenly find yourself blushing as it's time to go, even after everything you've done together.

"Thank you, um… for last night. I'm thinking I should let myself get stood up more often."

Both Matt and Elektra grin before kissing you on the cheek.

"if you give me that asshole's name and number, I'd like to teach him a little lesson in how to respect a lady... and, anytime you'd like to play, sweetheart," Matt says, producing a sleek business card seemingly from out of nowhere, "just call."

[farfromstrange]

How did Matt react to reader rebounding with Frank 👀 Or, how would he react if she rebounded with Elektra

@hellskitchenswhore actually commented on the other ask I got about this, and I have to share it with you because that’s basically how I could see it happening now that the thought has been put into my head:

Also, it would be so hypocritical of him to get pissed about Reader choosing Frank when he slept with Elektra, who’s the opposite of innocent, but Matt tends to stay on his high horse until he falls off and almost breaks his neck.

There’s two ways it could go, of course. He could also be like ‘yeah, I had that coming’ and let the guilt eat him alive. He’d use the revelation his partner did that to hurt himself for how royally he fucked up. And it could be a mixture of both him playing the victim and him blaming himself for being so fucking stupid. But if he ever sees Frank again after that, they’ll knock each other’s teeth in because Frank would be all smug about it and Matt would lose his fucking marbles. You know, men.

And as for Elektra, Matt would levitate into another dimension. That man would not survive if his ex slept with his other ex. He’d spiral into insanity. Elektra is unpredictable, so he wouldn’t even see it coming. If you really want to hurt this man, that’s the way to go. It would be the most effective way to get back at him, too. Sleeping with the person he cheated on you with. You’d turn the tables and he’d be completely defenseless because Elektra is no longer just a part of his life (and a mistake he made), but she actually treated you better in one night than he did, and he’d carry that inside with him for the rest of his life. Like, it would eat him up. I joked it would send him to the mental hospital in another post, but I do think he’d lose his fucking mind and probably be useless for a while after that. Would he blame you? Probably not. Would he get all righteous about your choice to justify his own actions? Probably yes.

I can also maybe see him getting all mad about it, and you’d have to put him in his place because he slept with her first and you didn’t do anything wrong. Pain-wise, I think it would be worse if you slept with Elektra than Frank, but it would be fucking iconic.

In that regard, Matt is the unpredictable one, but it would definitely kill him inside.

[urdreamydoodles]

MARVEL COMICS CHARACTERS x FEM!READER

Marvel Comics Characters Receiving a Dirty Picture from You in Public

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, Loki, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Matthew Murdock, Frank Castle, Marc Spector, Johnny Storm, Reed Richards, Felicia Hardy, Stephen Strange, Namor, Johnny Blaze, Eddie Brock / Venom, T'Challa & Elektra Natchios

God, I love Marvel Comics...

Peter Parker aka. Spider-Man

Peter has been through a lot. He’s fought villains, lost people he’s loved, and carried the weight of responsibility since he was a kid. But nothing—not Venom, not Doctor Octopus, not the Green Goblin—has ever hit him as hard as opening his phone and seeing you.

He’s perched upside-down on a fire escape, mid-stakeout with Daredevil, when his phone buzzes. He barely glances at it at first, assuming it’s an update from MJ or the Bugle. But then—his Spidey-Sense misfires. His stomach drops. And suddenly, he’s scrambling so fast that he almost falls off the fire escape.

“...Parker?” Matt’s voice is suspicious, brow furrowing beneath the red mask. Peter clutches his phone like a lifeline, heat rushing to his face, his entire body going rigid. “Uh—nope! Nothing’s wrong! Totally fine! Just, uh—gotta—go!” Before Matt can say another word, Peter web-slings away, heart pounding.

Later, in his apartment, he stares at the image, biting his lip so hard he might draw blood. Then, fumbling with his phone, he types back: You cannot just drop this on me in the middle of a mission. I almost DIED. You’re gonna make it up to me. In person. Immediately.

Tony Stark aka. Iron Man

Tony Stark is always the one making people flustered. He’s the king of inappropriate timing, the grandmaster of chaos. So when you flip the game on him? When you send him something completely indecent while he’s in the middle of a live press conference? Oh, he is in trouble.

He’s mid-sentence, standing in front of a sea of reporters, when his phone vibrates. He glances at it without thinking, because hey, it might be about stock prices or another alien invasion. But no. No, it’s you. In the filthiest pose imaginable.

He visibly freezes. Blinks. Blanches. Then—his brain blue screens. The entire room stares as Tony suddenly cuts off mid-sentence, clears his throat, and forces a smirk that’s absolutely not covering up a crisis. “Uh—ladies and gentlemen, I think that’s enough questions for today.”

The moment he’s offstage, he stumbles into the nearest private room, yanks at his tie, and pulls out his phone like it holds the meaning of life. He types back immediately: Oh, now you’ve done it, sweetheart. I hope you’re home right now, because I’m on my way, and I’m bringing consequences.

Steve Rogers aka. Captain America

Steve is not a prude. He’s been around, he’s seen things. But there’s something about you—about the way you know exactly how to knock the breath from his lungs—that makes him feel like a kid again.

He’s in the middle of a strategy meeting with Sam and Bucky, his shield leaning against the table, when his phone vibrates. He checks it without thinking, eyes flicking down—and then every muscle in his body tenses. His grip on the phone tightens. His ears burn red.

“You good, Rogers?” Bucky gives him a knowing smirk, because he immediately recognizes that look—Steve flustered beyond belief. Steve clears his throat, hard, locking his phone like it’s offended him. “Fine,” he says, voice a little too even. “Let’s, uh—let’s keep going.”

But later, when he’s alone, he exhales deeply, pressing a hand over his face before looking at the image again. Then, with slow deliberation, he types: I hope you know what you just started. Because I don’t break my promises, sweetheart. And I promise—you’re not leaving that bed when I get there.

Thor Odinson aka. God of Thunder

Thor has seen battles, has waged wars across the cosmos, has faced monsters and gods. But when his phone pings—when he sees the absolute sin that you’ve just sent him—he forgets how to breathe.

He is in the middle of the Avengers’ common room, laughing boisterously with Bruce and Natasha, when he pulls out his phone. He expects something simple—a text from his brother, perhaps, or a message from Jane. But instead? Instead, he sees you.

The entire room feels it when Thor’s laughter stops. There is a moment—just a beat of silence—before the lights flicker. The air crackles with static electricity. His fingers twitch around the phone, and then, in a low, very serious voice, he mutters, “By the Norns…”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, but Thor abruptly stands, clearing his throat. “I must depart. Urgently.” Bruce frowns. “What? Why?” Thor barely offers an explanation before storming out of the room, typing furiously: You dare tempt the God of Thunder? Very well, little one. You shall learn what it means to summon a storm.

Loki Laufeyson aka. God of Mischief

Loki is the undisputed master of control. He is calm, composed, always one step ahead of everyone else. But when you send him something so shameless, so brazen, in the middle of an important diplomatic event in Asgard—he nearly drops his goblet of wine.

He’s reclining on his throne, listening to some dull ambassador drone on about trade negotiations, when his phone vibrates. He lifts it lazily, expecting nothing of importance—until he sees you.

His entire body goes rigid. His grip tightens around the goblet, the silver denting beneath his fingers. His green eyes darken, and for the first time in centuries, he feels his pulse stutter. The ambassador keeps talking, oblivious, but Loki? Loki is seething.

Later, in his chambers, he lounges on his bed, turning the phone over in his fingers before smirking. Then, with slow, careful precision, he types: You dare tease the God of Mischief? Oh, darling, you are in such trouble. And you know how much I enjoy trouble.

Clint Barton aka. Hawkeye

Clint Barton is used to chaos. He’s fought alien invasions, taken down crime syndicates, and, most impressively, lived in a house with three dogs and somehow survived. But nothing—not the Avengers, not S.H.I.E.L.D., not even Kate Bishop’s endless sarcasm—could have prepared him for this.

He’s in the middle of a debriefing with Captain America and Black Widow when his phone vibrates. Normally, he’d ignore it, but boredom gets the better of him. He sneaks a glance, tilting the screen just slightly—and immediately chokes on his coffee.

“Barton?” Natasha’s voice is sharp, her suspicious gaze snapping to him. Steve looks concerned. Clint, on the other hand, is malfunctioning. He quickly locks his phone, pressing it to his thigh like it’s burning him. “Yep. All good. Just… wrong text thread. You know how it is.”

The second he’s alone, he whistles, rubbing a hand down his face before sending a text: You are absolutely trying to kill me, aren’t you? I’m a trained marksman, babe. You know I always hit my target. Hope you’re ready.

Natasha Romanoff aka. Black Widow

Natasha Romanoff is a professional. She’s endured psychological conditioning, trained with the deadliest assassins in the world, and can lie so well that even she forgets what’s real. But when you send her something so utterly filthy, in the middle of a high-stakes poker game with some very dangerous people—she nearly loses her composure.

She’s holding a perfect poker face, one leg crossed over the other, a cigarette between her fingers (purely for effect). Then, her phone buzzes. She never checks her phone during missions, but for some reason, she does this time.

The second she sees the image, her fingers twitch. She almost fumbles her cigarette. Almost. A single slow breath is all that betrays her before she locks the screen and smirks, adjusting her sunglasses to hide the flicker of heat in her gaze.

Later, after she’s won the game (because of course she has), she finally responds: You must be very confident, sending me something like that. I hope you know what happens when I catch my prey, моя любовь (my love). Because I always catch them.

Bucky Barnes aka. Winter Soldier

Bucky is already always on edge. He spent decades being controlled, his mind fractured, his instincts constantly telling him that danger lurks around every corner. But when his phone vibrates in the middle of a mission briefing and he makes the mistake of checking it—he nearly self-destructs.

He’s sitting next to Sam Wilson, arms crossed, trying to focus on the tactical discussion. Then, out of habit, he glances at his phone. And suddenly? His enhanced heartbeat spikes. His grip on the phone tightens, metal fingers creaking.

Sam immediately notices. “Dude. You okay?” Bucky doesn’t answer. He just exhales deeply, jaw clenching, and locks his phone like it’s personally offended him. “Fine,” he mutters, but the way his throat bobs betrays him.

Later, in the privacy of his room, he leans against the wall, pressing his flesh hand over his face before looking at the image again. Then, he types—slow, deliberate, full of promise: You are playing with fire, doll. And you know I don’t burn alone.

Matthew Murdock aka. Daredevil

Matt has learned to control himself. He has to, considering his senses pick up everything. The heartbeat of a liar, the scent of blood, the whisper of fabric against skin. But when he puts in his earpiece during a stakeout with Elektra and hears you—sultry, teasing, wicked—his composure shatters.

Your voice is a purr, warm and full of amusement, as you describe, in explicit detail, exactly what you want to do to him. Every syllable slides into his ear like a sin, and for the first time in years, Matt Murdock forgets how to breathe.

“Murdock.” Elektra’s voice is unimpressed. “Are you even listening?” Matt clenches his jaw, forcing his expression into something neutral as he slowly removes the earpiece. “Yeah,” he lies, his voice way too tight. “Loud and clear.” But his fingers twitch, betraying him.

Later, alone in his apartment, he plays the message again. And again. Until his own heartbeat is thunderous in his ears. Then, with a slow smirk, he records his reply—his voice low, gravelly, barely more than a rasp: Angel, you have no idea what you’ve just done. And I promise—you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Frank Castle aka. The Punisher

Frank Castle does not fluster. He’s a man who’s seen the worst of the world, a soldier who has lost everything. He does not get distracted. But when he’s sitting in the middle of a grimy bar, brooding over a whiskey, and his phone vibrates—everything stops.

He checks it absently, expecting intel from Micro or maybe a warning from Daredevil. But instead, he gets you. And just like that, his grip on the glass tightens. His jaw locks. His entire body tenses, muscles coiled, because you have just sent him something so utterly indecent that he has to set his whiskey down before he crushes the glass.

The bartender notices. “You good, man?” Frank barely glances up, his fingers white-knuckled around his phone. “Fine,” he mutters, voice rough. He shoves his phone back in his pocket and downs the rest of his drink in one go.

Later, in the dead of night, he finally lets himself look at the picture again. He exhales, rubbing a hand over his face, before sending a single message: You think you’re real cute, huh? Yeah. Keep that same energy when I get home. See if you’re still smirking when I’ve got my hands on you.

Marc Spector aka. Moon Knight

Marc has lived multiple lives. A mercenary. A vigilante. A fist of vengeance. But the moment his phone vibrates in the middle of a stakeout, and he sees you—he nearly blows his own cover.

He’s perched on a rooftop, watching a weapons deal go down, his mind sharp and focused. Then, out of habit, he checks his phone. His breath hitches. His grip tightens around the device, and he has to physically restrain himself from groaning. Khonshu’s voice rumbles in his mind: "Your mortal desires are distracting, Spector." Marc grits his teeth. "Yeah, no shit."

“Something wrong?” Jake’s voice purrs from inside his head, amused. “She send you something nice, hermano?” Marc rolls his eyes, exhaling sharply before locking his phone. “Mind your damn business.” But his pulse is thundering.

Later, back at his apartment, he leans against the wall, staring at the image before typing: You have no idea what you’ve just done. Hope you’re home. Hope you’re ready.

Johnny Storm aka. Human Torch

Johnny Storm is used to attention. He thrives on it. He’s a celebrity, a hero, a walking flame. But when you send him something scandalous in the middle of a live television interview, even he isn’t ready for it.

He’s laughing, flashing his signature cocky grin at the camera, when his phone buzzes. He checks it without thinking—because hey, it might be Sue yelling at him again—but instead, it’s you. In the filthiest pose imaginable.

Johnny visibly chokes. His entire body tenses. For the first time ever, he forgets what he was saying. The interviewer blinks. “Uh… Johnny?” His brain short-circuits. His face heats—literally. The tips of his ears ignite before he clenches his fists and forces himself to not spontaneously combust on live television.

The second the interview is over, he’s sprinting to his dressing room, slamming the door shut and typing frantically: Ohhh, you are in trouble. You’re really trying to set me on fire, huh? Hope you’re home, babe, ‘cause I’m flying over. Right. Now.

Reed Richards aka. Mister Fantastic

Reed Richards is a genius. His mind is constantly working at speeds beyond human comprehension. But when he’s mid-lecture at a prestigious scientific conference and his phone vibrates—his brilliant mind suddenly goes blank.

He absently checks his phone, half-expecting an alert from the Baxter Building. But instead, it’s you. Wearing almost nothing.

For a solid ten seconds, he is frozen. His eyes slightly widen. His fingers twitch. And then, very slowly, he locks his phone and clears his throat. “Ah—excuse me, esteemed colleagues, but I must—um—attend to an urgent matter.”

Later, he adjusts his glasses, staring at the image with a fascinated, almost scientific appreciation. Then, with methodical precision, he types: You are a very distracting woman. I will be conducting an… in-depth study on you as soon as I return. Expect a thorough examination.

Felicia Hardy aka. Black Cat

Felicia Hardy is a master of seduction. She flusters men for fun. But when she’s in the middle of a high-stakes casino heist, and you send her something utterly indecent, even she loses her composure.

She’s leaning against the bar, sipping an expensive martini, eyes locked on her mark. Then, her phone buzzes. She lazily checks it, expecting an update from her crew. But instead? Instead, she sees you.

Her eyelashes flutter. Her lips part just slightly. And for the first time in years, her poker face cracks. The bartender—oblivious—raises an eyebrow. “Everything okay, miss?” Felicia exhales, smirking as she locks her phone. “Oh, it’s better than okay.”

Later, she lounges on silk sheets, staring at the picture before purring into her phone: You really think you can tease me, kitten? Oh, sweetheart… you just made a very expensive bet. And I never lose.

Stephen Strange aka. Doctor Strange

Stephen Strange is not easily shaken. He’s fought cosmic horrors, bent reality, and wielded power beyond mortal comprehension. But when he’s in the middle of a magical duel with Dormammu, and you send him a sinfully explicit picture—he almost loses.

He’s mid-incantation, floating above the Sanctum’s rooftop, when his phone vibrates. Normally, he’d ignore it—except something in the back of his mind tells him it’s you. He flicks his fingers, glancing at the screen—and immediately regrets it.

His spell stutters. His fingers twitch. The fabric of reality briefly warps. Wong, standing below, yells, “What the hell was that?!” Stephen clenches his jaw, locking his phone immediately before snapping his wrist and repairing the timeline. “Nothing,” he mutters. “Absolutely nothing.”

The moment the battle is over, he retreats into his study, loosening his Cloak, before typing: You dare distract the Sorcerer Supreme? You have no idea what you’ve just unleashed, darling. And I do hope you’re prepared for consequences beyond mortal comprehension.

Namor aka. The Sub-Mariner

Namor is a king. He does not answer to anyone. He has waged war against the surface world, stood against the mightiest heroes, and commands the loyalty of an entire empire. But when he is seated on his throne, discussing politics with his council, and his communicator vibrates—everything else becomes irrelevant.

He glances down, expecting a diplomatic missive. Instead, he is greeted by you—a vision of temptation, captured in a way that only he has the privilege to see. His grip on the communicator tightens, his lips parting slightly. The light of the display reflects in his dark, narrowed eyes.

The council drones on, but Namor hears nothing. His golden gauntlets flex, his knuckles tightening as his jaw sets. A slow, deliberate exhale is all that betrays his reaction. But those closest to him—his most trusted generals—see the flicker of something dangerous in his expression. A storm, barely contained.

Later, as he stands upon his balcony, overlooking the endless ocean, he types a single response: You seek to tempt a king, my love? Then be prepared for the wrath of a god. When next we meet, you will drown in my devotion.

Johnny Blaze aka. Ghost Rider

Johnny Blaze has seen Hell—literally. He has ridden across the desolate highways of damnation, stared into the abyss, and laughed. But when he’s sitting in a biker bar, nursing a whiskey and half-listening to some guy ramble about the Devil, his phone vibrates. And when he checks it—he nearly sets the whole place on fire.

The image of you is burned into his mind, seared into his soul. He sucks in a slow breath through his teeth, his fingers tightening around the glass. His knuckles go white. Somewhere deep inside, the Spirit of Vengeance chuckles.

“Something wrong, Blaze?” One of the other bikers eyes him warily. Johnny forces a smirk, setting his whiskey down before he crushes the glass in his grip. “Nah,” he rasps, his voice a little too rough. “Just realized I got… unfinished business to take care of.”

Later, on his Hellfire-coated bike, he sends a text: You got a real bad habit of making me wanna sin, sweetheart. And I promise—I’ll make sure you repent. Over. And over.

Eddie Brock & Venom aka. Venom

Eddie Brock has been through hell. He’s fought monsters, been one himself, lost everything, and still kept going. But nothing—not a damn thing—could prepare him for the absolute carnage of getting that picture from you in the middle of a crowded subway.

He’s scrolling through his phone absentmindedly, Venom muttering in his head about wanting tater tots, when the image loads. For a solid five seconds, he is completely still. Then—

“Eddie.” Venom’s voice rumbles, amused. “Your mate is very… bold. We approve.” Eddie, red-faced, slams his phone against his chest like that’ll somehow erase what just happened. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, eyes darting around to make sure no one saw. A teenager across from him raises an eyebrow.

Later, when he’s alone, he finally lets himself look at the picture again. A slow, predatory grin spreads across his face as he types back: Oh, you think you’re being cute, huh? Yeah. Just wait till I get my hands on you. Hell, maybe we’ll even let Venom have a little fun, too.

T’Challa aka. Black Panther

T’Challa is a king, a warrior, a legend. His mind is a fortress, his will unshakable. But when he is seated in the royal palace of Wakanda, surrounded by dignitaries, and his Kimoyo Beads alert him to a personal message—his focus wavers.

He allows himself a discreet glance. And in that moment? His heart skips a single beat. His fingers—steady even in the heat of battle—tighten just slightly around his beads. His expression does not change. But to those who know him well—Okoye, Shuri—they notice the subtlest flicker of something dangerous in his eyes.

Shuri smirks. “Brother,” she murmurs, leaning in. “You look… distracted.” T’Challa exhales deeply, locking the message with a casual flick of his fingers. “I am merely… anticipating a conversation.”

Later, when he is alone, he reviews the picture once more, fingers grazing his jaw before he types: You are testing my patience, beloved. And you know I am a man of great discipline. But for you? I am willing to break my own rules. Expect me soon.

Elektra Natchios aka. Elektra

Elektra Natchios does not fluster. She has slit the throats of kings, danced on the edge of oblivion, and played cat-and-mouse with death itself. But when she is sharpening her sai on the rooftop of a New York high-rise and her phone buzzes—her grip falters.

The blade nicks her glove. Barely. But it happens. Her lips part in a slow, dangerous smirk as she tilts the phone toward the moonlight, drinking in the absolute audacity of your message.

“Something amusing?” A voice—a rival assassin, lurking in the shadows. Elektra does not answer. She merely tucks her phone away, standing smoothly, her stance lethal. “Yes,” she purrs. “Something… very amusing.”

Later, as she leans against the window of her penthouse, she finally sends a reply: You are so very reckless, my love. And I do enjoy breaking reckless little things.

[superbreadsoul]

DON’T BAIL ON ME

Matt Murdock x Reader

DISCLAIMER: The following story is purely fictional and is made for entertainment purposes. I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story.

WARNING: Heartbreak, no happy-ending, Matt is emotionally constipated, Reader is unable to take responsibility as well. Elektra (cuz she’s hawt).

WORD COUNT: 5119 WORDS

--------------------------------------------------------

Matt’s voice trembled with concern as he heard her step through the door, sensing her eyes downcast, her posture tense. He had been pacing for what felt like hours, his mind running wild with worry. The clock on the wall mocked him with every passing second. He hadn’t heard from her all day. He hadn’t seen her since their plans had been set.

"Hey, sweetheart," he began, his tone more gentle than usual, but heavy with the weight of unspoken fear. "I was worried about you. Where have you been?"

Her response was quiet, almost reluctant, as if she was debating whether or not to let him in on the truth. "At the hospital."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart skipped a beat. "What? Why? Are you okay?"

His feet moved instinctively toward her, but she didn't meet his gaze. Instead, she stepped back, a wall of frustration and hurt suddenly building between them. He halted, sensing the shift, his worry now mingling with confusion.

"Yeah," she said, her voice tight. "I was visiting Barry."

There was an unmistakable edge to her words, and Matt froze, the weight of her response settling in. Barry. The name stung. He had heard about Barry—her ex, the doctor— the one she couldn’t quite escape, the one who always seemed to pull her back in. He had known this day would come. He just hadn’t expected it to feel so… personal. Little did he know, that wasn't what she was seemingly hesitant about.

"Oh," Matt said, his voice trailing off as he tried to keep his composure. He noticed a familiar scent around her, something sweet and floral. "You—smell nice."

She blinked, her lips tightening into a thin line. “Really?” she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, I wanted to smell nice for our date. Thanks for showing up, by the way.”

Matt’s heart clenched. The biting tone in her voice stung, but it was nothing compared to the way the truth had just hit him. His sightless eyes bounced, full of remorse and regret. His mind raced, desperately trying to piece together where everything had gone wrong.

"Oh sweetheart," he whispered, his words catching in his throat. "I’m so sorry. It… it slipped my mind. I’m so, so sorry."

He stepped forward, his hands reaching for her, but she pulled back slightly, the distance between them growing, thick with unspoken anger.

"Are you?" she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of hurt and disbelief. She glanced up at him, the vulnerability in her voice almost too much for him to bear. "Are you really sorry, Matt?"

Her question hung in the air, and for a moment, he was speechless. All he could hear was the rapid beat of his own heart, and the deafening silence that followed. He had forgotten their date. He had let her down. Again.

Matt’s breath hitched as he took another step closer, his voice dropping to a softer, more sincere tone. “Y/N, is something wrong?”

The words were tentative, but they were filled with an unspoken plea for her to let him in, to let him fix this, to let him make things right. But she only stood there, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

Matt had known her long enough to recognize the storm brewing beneath her calm exterior. But this—this was different. This was something deeper, something he couldn’t fix with an apology alone.

"Natchios."

The name dropped from Y/N's lips like a stone sinking into the silence of the room, heavy and uninvited. It echoed through the small space, reverberating off the walls and into Matt’s chest, where it lodged like a shard of ice. The very surname that had haunted him for years. The one name he thought he had left behind. The name of the woman who had once ruled his world in a storm of chaos and passion—and who, no matter how hard he tried, was never truly gone.

“What?” Matt froze, his blood running cold, his breath caught in his throat. The dread settled in, slow and suffocating. He had thought he could outrun it, that he had buried that past deep enough for it to never resurface. But now, standing before him, was Y/N, looking at him with eyes that said she knew, and with a smile that barely disguised the hurt and the bitterness.

Y/N tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a bitter, almost rueful grin. “I was so caught up with the trial, I didn’t realise it at first. I’d never heard a name so unique. Then I thought, hey, actually, I have. I’ve only ever known one person with a name that unique. She had a pretty unique personality too. Elektra Natchios. Huh.”

Matt’s heart hammered in his chest, and he felt a cold sweat prick at the back of his neck. Her words stung deeper than he could have imagined. There was no hiding now, no pretending that this wasn’t happening. He couldn't see it but he knew that Y/N was no longer looking at him with the gentle affection of someone who had shared quiet moments of love. Now, she was looking at him with something else: pain. And the realization that everything he had tried to protect her from had come crashing down.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed at him, her gaze sharp and cutting, as she began to recall their past. “God, I hated that stupid Chevy Belair Coupe she used to drive around to pick you up. Then you’d get in the passenger seat with a big smile on your face, bunking all your classes.” She chuckled, but the sound was hollow, edged with something bitter and pained. “And I wouldn’t hear from you for days. Three days, Matt. I didn’t hear from you for three damn days.”

Matt opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He wanted to apologise, to explain, but the words felt useless. How could he explain any of it without dragging her deeper into the mess that was his life with Elektra? 

Elektra. 

Just the thought of her made his stomach twist, but the worst part was the knowledge that Y/N had been right all along. He had never fully severed the connection with Elektra, and now, it was here, in front of him, like a spectre from his past. 

Y/N’s eyes flashed with an icy determination. "She’s here, isn’t she? Like Stick? You can come out now.”

The words hung in the air, sharp and accusing. Matt’s breath hitched, and before he could protest or stop it, Y/N’s gaze flicked toward the door of the bedroom. The silence that followed was oppressive, and Matt’s heart sank as he knew exactly who would walk through that door, already hearing her heels clicking. He didn’t need to say a word. He didn’t have to.

From the shadows of the hallway, Elektra emerged.

“Hello, Y/N,” Elektra’s voice was smooth, almost amused, like she had been waiting for this moment, anticipating the fallout from Matt’s past finally catching up with him.

Elektra’s steps were confident, every movement exuding the kind of smug self-assurance Matt had never been able to shake. She stood tall in the doorway, her presence dominating the room even as she leaned casually against the frame. There was a faint, cruel smile playing at the edges of her lips as she looked past Matt to Y/N. 

Matt’s stomach turned. Elektra had always had that way of walking into a room like she owned it, like everyone in it was just another pawn in her game. He hated that about her. He hated the way she always made him feel like he was nothing more than a fool to be played with. 

“Elektra,” Y/N said, her voice tight with controlled fury. "I should have known you’d be here. Always lurking in the shadows, making everything more complicated than it needs to be."

Elektra’s eyes gleamed with something cold, calculating. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m just here to see Matthew, just like I always have been.”

Matt’s chest tightened. “Y/N, I—”

But Y/N held up a hand, the air shifting as she did, silencing him before he could finish. Her eyes, once soft with affection, now burned with a mix of pain and anger, and he realized, too late, that this was a breaking point. A fracture in their relationship that couldn’t be healed with empty words.

“What? You’re sorry?” Y/N asked, the disbelief thick in her voice. “For what, Matt? For still being tied to her after all this time? For letting her come back into your life, into our life, like nothing ever changed?”

Matt took a step forward, but it was like walking on a tightrope. Every word he tried to say felt heavier than the last, his voice faltering as he reached for her. “Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

“It never is,” Y/N snapped, her voice a mixture of frustration and grief. "You’re still lying to me, Matt. You’re still lying to me, even now.”

Y/N’s voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it, a sharpness that immediately cut through the tension in the room. “Matt and I need to talk, so I’m sorry, but I’d like you to leave.”

Elektra didn't flinch. She gave a soft, almost mocking smile, the same smile Matt had once found irresistible, traced it with his own fingers, now a twisted reminder of everything he was trying to move past. “Alright.” She didn’t hesitate, her heels clicking sharply against the floor as she turned toward Matt’s bedroom, making her way back into the shadows of his life.

But before she could slip out of sight, Y/N’s voice stopped her cold, the words laced with authority. “—The apartment.”

Elektra paused mid-step, a flicker of surprise in her eyes, but it was quickly masked by that same smug composure.

Matt opened his mouth, but his throat tightened as the reality of the situation began to settle in. He had never heard Y/N so resolute, and despite everything he wanted to say, he knew that this wasn’t his battle to fight. Still, he hated the feeling of being stuck in the middle. “Y/N—” he started, his voice soft, trying to diffuse the tension.

“—You speak when I ask you to speak.” Her voice cut through his words like a knife, leaving no room for argument.

Matt flinched, a sigh escaping him. His frustration built inside him, the weight of being trapped between the two women he cared about—one from his past, one from his present. He dropped his head, hands on his hips, trying to control the burning anger bubbling within him. The last thing he wanted was this kind of confrontation, but it was inevitable, wasn’t it? A situation of his own making.

Elektra, as if sensing Matt's turmoil, gave him one last smirk before she silently walked out, her footsteps echoing as she left the apartment. But even with her gone, the tension in the room was suffocating. Y/N stood there, arms crossed, her eyes trained on Matt, who didn’t move. The silence stretched between them like a chasm, filled with things unsaid.

“I’m not gonna have a one-sided conversation, so can you please turn around?” Y/N’s voice was stern, but there was an underlying hurt that Matt couldn’t ignore.

Reluctantly, Matt turned to face her. His jaw was tight, the weight of her gaze almost unbearable. For a second, he was relieved that he wouldn't have to see that scathing look on her face Foggy always talked about. He knew what was coming next, but it didn’t make it any easier to bear. 

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” she asked, her tone softening only slightly as she tried to understand, but the confusion in her eyes was clear.

Matt opened his mouth, the words caught somewhere between guilt and frustration. “About what?” he asked, feigning ignorance, but even to him, the question felt hollow. He couldn’t pretend anymore.

Y/N’s eyes flicked to the door where Elektra had just left, and her voice was barely above a whisper as she listed out the things that had been gnawing at her. “About Stick. About Elektra. About everything that’s been hanging over us since the moment we got together. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her words hit harder than she probably realised, and Matt’s breath faltered. The truth was, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to share it. Not because he didn’t trust her, but because he had hoped—no, he had needed—to believe that he could keep his past locked away. That Elektra, Stick, and all the messes of his old life would stay buried, far from Y/N. But he had been fooling himself. And now, here she was, asking him the one question he couldn’t dodge.

“Because you walked out on me before I could tell you,” Matt said, his voice thick with frustration, his hands clenched at his sides. His sightless eyes were wild, somewhat searching for hers—waiting so that she might tell him that she understood, or at least would understand, if he could just explain it all.

Y/N didn’t flinch at his words, but the hurt was unmistakable. She stood there, her arms still crossed, her gaze unwavering. She had always been so patient with him, so understanding. But this—this was too much. 

“You think I walked out on you?” she asked, her voice tight, trying to keep the trembling anger at bay. “You think I just left? You’re the one who shut me out, Matt. You’re the one who didn’t trust me with the truth. You kept me at arm’s length, and now I’m supposed to believe it was just because you couldn’t find the right time to tell me?”

Matt took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with a frustration that was barely contained. “It wasn’t like that,” he said, his voice lower now, softer but still heavy with regret. “I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to drag you into that world. But you—you wouldn’t have understood. You wouldn’t have accepted it.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she stepped closer to him, her voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t handle, Matt. You don’t get to keep things from me because you’re afraid of how I’ll react. I’m your partner. You tell me. You trust me.”

Y/N’s voice was laced with frustration as she tried to make him understand, but Matt could sense that her patience was starting to wear thin. “Besides, I was rightfully upset—”

“—Is there a point to this conversation?” Matt interrupted, his tone sharp, his shoulders tense. He didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want to keep spinning in this cycle of misunderstandings and hurt feelings. He just wanted it to go back to the way it was. He wanted everything to feel normal again.

Y/N blinked, her expression one of bewilderment and frustration. “What do you mean, ‘is there a point’? Matt, of course, there’s a point! I want you to talk to me!” She said the words with an exasperated urgency, as if she couldn’t understand why he wasn’t getting it.

Matt’s jaw clenched, and he turned away for a moment, trying to steady himself. “There’s nothing to talk about, Y/N. Besides, you made it clear yesterday that you didn’t want to talk to me.”

The hurt in his voice was unmistakable, and Y/N’s chest tightened. The memory of last night—the way she’d stormed out, the way Matt had closed himself off—was still fresh. It felt like a betrayal, but even more so, it felt like the same pattern she had been trying to avoid. He was slipping away from her, like he always did.

Her heart pounded as she stared at him, frustration bubbling up again. “See, this is exactly what I’m talking about,” she said, her finger gesturing towards him. “You just brush it all off. It’s like you won’t even try to understand why I’m upset!”

Matt’s eyes flashed, frustration building in his chest. He didn’t know how to explain it, how to make her understand that his silence wasn’t about her, but about the things inside him that he didn’t know how to talk about. “What?” he snapped back, unable to hide the rawness in his voice. “What do you want from me, Y/N?”

“God! It’s always one step forward and ten steps back with us!” she nearly shouted, her voice full of pent-up frustration. “It’s always the same thing! You do something, and I pull away. I do something, and you pull away. We can’t keep doing this, Matt! I can’t keep feeling like I’m the only one trying to hold this together.”

The words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to explain that it wasn’t just her—that it wasn’t always her fault. But the truth was, his own insecurities were starting to drown out the words. His fear of being abandoned, of losing her, was starting to seep into every crack of their relationship, and he didn’t know how to fight it.

“We talk, don’t we?” Matt said cynically, crossing his arms as he looked at where he assumed her eyes were, his expression closed off. “I’m right here standing in front of you.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed as she shot back with a bitter laugh, the sting of his words landing harder than he’d realised. “As opposed to how lately, every conversation I have with you is towards your back?” she said, her voice full of incredulity. “You’re physically here, Matt, but you’ve been gone for a while now.”

Matt flinched at the accusation, the weight of her words cutting deep. He opened his mouth to argue, but the frustration in Y/N’s voice silenced him before he could speak.

“What the hell does that mean?” he snapped back, his confusion mixing with his growing anger. 

Y/N’s words were sharp, cutting through the air between them like a blade. “It means you avoid me!” she deadpanned, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “It means your first instinct is to run away from me the second things get a little bit rough.” She pointed directly at him, her eyes narrowing as she squinted up at him in disbelief. She rocked her hand in the air, as if to emphasise how often he pulled away, how shaky he could be when things weren't easy.

Matt’s heart beat erratically in his chest as she spoke, the truth in her words hitting him like a freight train. She wasn’t wrong. He had always pulled away when things got tough. His instinct had always been to retreat into the safety of silence, of isolation, of not facing the things that scared him the most.

“I don’t run,” Matt muttered, his voice low and defensive. “I—”

“You do,” she interrupted sharply, cutting him off before he could finish. “I’m not an idiot, Matt. I can see it. You shut down. You turn away. You make yourself small, and you expect me to just stand here and wait for you to come back.”

Matt stood there, frozen for a moment, the words hanging in the air like a weight he couldn’t escape. His breath was shallow, his chest tight. The things Y/N was saying, the things she was pointing out, weren’t easy to hear, but they were the truth. And deep down, he knew it.

“I don’t run!” Matt growled stubbornly in denial.

Matt's chest tightened, his jaw clenching in anger. He couldn't stand hearing it, especially not from her. "Okay? That is neither here nor there," he snapped, immediately brushing her words aside, shaking his head in frustration. He was done with the conversation, or so he thought. He wanted to put the walls back up, to shield himself from the rawness of the situation.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, the sarcasm in her expression all too clear. "Okay, well, here we are, Matt," she said, her voice dripping with frustration and mockery. "What do you wanna do? How do you wanna handle it, huh? Do you wanna fight for us, or do you wanna bail?"

She pointed toward the door, her hand shaking slightly with the intensity of the moment, as if to punctuate her question. Her voice rose in frustration, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt. She paused, studying him as the weight of his silence seemed to hang in the air. But as she watched him, something softened in her gaze. She saw the vulnerable look in his eyes—the quiet uncertainty he wore so well. And despite the storm of emotions she felt, her heart ached for him.

With a heavy sigh, she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to raise my voice,” she said quietly, the sharpness gone from her tone, replaced by something more tender. The fight was still there, but beneath it, there was love. She stepped forward, her hands trembling as she reached for him.

Y/N placed her hands gently in his, her touch soft and warm. She needed him to hear her, needed him to understand. “Listen to me,” she said, her voice steady now, but filled with a quiet urgency. “I want you, Matt. In all your sweet, yet rugged, devilish glory,” she said with a small, affectionate smile, even as her heart ached with the weight of everything unsaid. “I want to be here when your nights get rough, and I want to be the first thing you feel in the morning.”

She cupped his cheeks, her fingers soft against his skin as she looked into his eyes and feeling the intensity that made his breath catch in his throat. Her gaze softened, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She sniffled, her voice trembling. "Look, you think your crazy life, your past, everything that’s happened to you, is going to scare me away or something… but that’s not true. You’re so wrong."

Her chest tightened, her heart aching at the sight of him—of the man who had always been so afraid of being too much, so afraid of dragging others down with him. “Because there’s nothing out there, nothing in here, that scares me as much as the thought of losing you.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper now, but the weight of her words struck him with the force of a wrecking ball. "Trust me when I say… people like you and me, we don’t get the chance to love like this, Matt. I stay. I don’t run. Because I love you."

The confession hit him like a punch to the gut. She had said it. She had finally said it, and her words hung in the air between them like a lifeline. She had chosen him, despite everything. Despite his fear, his past, the mess he carried around with him. 

Y/N’s voice was soft, tender now, as she spoke again, the love in her tone so raw it made his heart ache. “I love you so much that all I can ever think about is you. There’s no version of my life that doesn’t have you in it.” Her hands tightened around his, pulling him closer, even as she sniffled again, the tears starting to break free from her eyes. “So I’ll stay right here. You can push me away all you want, but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait for you.”

Matt’s breath caught in his throat as he processed her words, the weight of her confession crashing over him. She was here. She was choosing to stay, despite the chaos, despite everything. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had said something so raw, so real to him. 

But even now, he found it hard to believe. He was so used to people leaving, to pushing others away before they could hurt him. The idea that she wouldn’t walk away, that she wanted him, despite his flaws and his broken pieces—it was a foreign concept. 

He shook his head, as if trying to clear the fog in his mind, but the truth was, he was terrified. Terrified of letting her in, terrified of what would happen if he let himself truly believe that someone could love him—want him—after everything.

"I..." His voice cracked as he tried to speak, but words failed him. He reached up, touching her hands, still holding him so gently, and his gaze softened as he aimlessly searched where he assumed her face was in wonder, listening to her heart for any sign of doubt. But there was none. There was only love. A kind of love he had never known, never imagined he deserved.

Matt stood frozen, his heart hammering in his chest as Y/N’s confession lingered in the air between them. The weight of her words was suffocating, like a tidal wave crashing over him. He had never expected this moment to come, and now that it had, he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Her love for him, so pure and raw, left him paralyzed, caught between the fear of being loved and the fear of losing her.

His mind raced, his emotions a tangled mess. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in his throat. His fears—his insecurities—gripped him like chains. Could he really let her in? Could he really let someone love him after everything he had done, everything he had become? And if he did, what would that mean for her? For them?

Y/N noticed the struggle in his sightless eyes, the way he seemed to shrink in on himself, and her heart sank. She had poured herself out to him—had told him, for the first time, how much he meant to her—and now, he couldn’t even return the sentiment. She frowned softly, her own pain growing as she took a small step back, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Matt?” She searched his face, looking for something, anything, that would tell her that he felt the same. “Did you hear me?” she repeated, the desperation creeping into her voice. “Say something. Please? Matt?”

The silence between them stretched on, thick with the unspoken. Matt’s brow furrowed, his hands trembling slightly as he struggled to find the words that felt right. But there was nothing—nothing that could explain the tangled mess of emotions inside him. He opened his mouth, but only half-formed words came out. 

“I—uh—I can’t do this right now,” he finally said, his voice shaky with regret. “There’s a lot going on, and I—I can’t—” His words faltered, a deep ache filling his chest. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel the same way. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with her. But the weight of his dual life—the mask he wore, the life he led as Daredevil—was so heavy, and he wasn’t sure how to balance it with what Y/N was offering him. The fear of losing her, of not being enough, of the danger he brought to everyone around him—it all swirled in his mind.

Y/N’s heart dropped at his words. The dread that washed over her was instantaneous, a cold, sharp wave that made her feel small and foolish. She had laid herself bare, had trusted him with a part of herself she didn’t give to anyone else, and now—now he was pulling away. 

"Oh," she whispered, the word barely escaping her lips as the weight of disappointment settled into her chest. A hollow ache took root there. She had given him everything she had, all her love, all her hope—and he couldn’t even say it back. The look in his eyes was enough to confirm the one thing she’d feared most: he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t willing to let her in. 

Her hands instinctively pulled away from his, the absence of his touch like an icy wind. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to see the regret in his eyes. Instead, she looked away, her heart breaking with every passing second. She felt so stupid for believing, for thinking that maybe this time, with him, things could be different. That maybe, just maybe, he could love her back.

“I don’t—” Matt began again, but the words felt too heavy to say. He sighed deeply, his own heart aching as he heard the stutter in her heartbeat. He didn’t want to hurt her; glad he couldn't see that look of brokenness in her eyes. But he knew he had to do this—he had to finish what he started with Elektra, had to be Daredevil first. There was too much at stake. He was torn between the man he wanted to be for her and the one he had to be for the city.

“I have to go,” he said reluctantly, his voice low and filled with regret. His eyes softened for a moment, the weight of the moment heavy in the space between them. “I need to finish something. I need to... do what I have to do. I’ll come back, okay?”

The words sounded hollow to Y/N, and she felt her throat close up as the tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn’t look at him now, not like this. Not when he was so distant, so unsure. Her voice cracked as she whispered, barely able to get the words out.

“Okay.”

It was the only thing she could say, the only thing she had left. Her heart was in pieces, each one slipping further away from him with every word he spoke. She wouldn’t fight him. She couldn’t fight him. Not now. Not when he was already running. 

She didn’t look up as he left, didn’t want him to sense the tears that slipped down her cheeks, the raw pain she could no longer hide. All she wanted was for him to stay, to choose her, but the cold reality was that she didn’t know if he ever would.

Matt hesitated at the door, his hand on the handle, but the moment lingered for just a second longer. He tilted his head, ear faced to her direction, his face a mix of regret and guilt, but he didn’t say anything more. He couldn’t.

And with that, he was gone, leaving Y/N standing in the quiet apartment, her heart aching with the realisation that love—real love—might not be enough to bridge the chasm between them.

The End.

[siampie]

Risk and Reward || Chapter 13: Fall Into Me

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: After finding out about his secret identity, your relationship is getting deeper. Falling deeper in love with one another.

Warnings/tags: fluff, sickeningly sweet

A/N: Commentaries and reblogs are greatly appreciated.     

Previous Chapter || Chapter List || Next chapter

Masterlist || join my taglist

Tag list: @marytheweefrenchie; @sunflowersandsapphires; @abbyhaslongshorts; @schneeflocky; @danzer8705;

@ebathory997; @sarraa-26; @cheshirecat484; @rebeccapineapple; @violetswritingg;

@foxyjaina; @soph69420world; @silas-aeiou; @phoenix666stuff; @alphabetically-deranged;

@yiiiikesmish; @echo-dreams-of-recs; @the-daysiray; @zomtart; @redcherrytea;

@spiderstyles04; @luna-sungirl; @zyra-7; @marissamejia19; @flowher

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Song the title is referring to:

Then you walked down those stairs

And I knew my heart wasn’t mine

On the day that I met you

My whole world came alive

The smell of his body wash floated towards him as you walked out of his bathroom. His senses honed in on you. Drying your hair with the towel, you were wearing his clothes, that you borrowed, smelling like him. His lips turned up as you came up behind him. Knowing that you were wearing his clothes and smelling exactly like him, stirred something warm deep in his chest.

Something only reserved for you.

Matt had been in love before. With Elektra. And he thought he could fall in love with Karen, even if he had been for a brief moment.

With Karen things had been slow. And new. And full of light. And secrets. It had only been one date. It felt nice for a moment. She only knew the best version of him, then. The one he wanted her to see. The one he needed her to see. The one version he knew Karen could love. But it wouldn’t have worked out between them. Too many secrets. Too many walls built from unspoken words and unshared truths. And in the end, it kept them apart.

In the end, Matt had chosen Elektra.

Elektra Natchios.

“I do know that I’m free with you. Like with no one else,” Matt said, breathless. Unmasked.

“You hide from yourself,” she shook her head. “You don’t let anyone in.”

“You. I let you in.”

And he had. She was his first love. They were madly in love with one another. Passion ruled them when they were together. Passion and their own darknesses. She had accepted the Devil easily because of her own demons. And whereas Matt was struggling with his own morality, Elektra embraced her demons fully and easily. Their love was toxic and twisted. But it was all worth it. He had loved her more than anything. And until the very end, he had tried to save her. And failed. Twice. And almost lost his own life.

It was a miracle, or rather a curse as he had thought at the time, that he was still alive. A joke played on him by God. Still, he survived. He made it through and came back to life.

After Midland Circle—after his return to life, he had entertained the thought of trying again with Karen. There were no more secrets, no more lies between them. They knew each other like they never had before. He still loved Karen. She was his best friend and partner. But after everything, although no more secrets stood between them, they remained friends. Not willing to revisit their brief infatuation. Because that was all it was. Infatuation. They found they were better friends than lovers.

From those two failed relationships, Matt has learned his lessons. He couldn’t be just one version of himself. He couldn’t let the lies and the secrets build walls between the two of you.

“I don’t want better. I just want you.”

Your words had rung true. A soothing balm to his wounded soul.

You jumped up to sit on the counter. The towel was draped over your shoulders. The smell of his bodywash stronger now, “Whatcha you cooking?”

“Breakfast,” Matt’s lips quirked up slightly.

“I can see that,” you rolled your eyes. Your stomach gave a low rumble.  “But what exactly?”

“Scrambled eggs, bacon and some toast. How does that sound?”

“Delicious,” he heard your smile in your voice. It sounded beautiful, “I’m starving.”

Matt scoffed, “yeah, I can hear your stomach from here.” He turned around after switching the stove off.

“And whose fault is that?” You shot back as he moved towards you.

His hands ran along your naked thighs, “didn’t hear any complaints from you last night.”

“Well,” your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer. “I was too busy enjoying myself.”

“Yeah, I think the whole neighborhood heard you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, his fingers grazed the skin under the hem of your (his) boxers.

You burst out laughing, “let’s hope you don’t get any complaints from the neighbors.”  

Matt pressed his lips against yours. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he moved his hands under your (his) shirt, running along the curve of your back. Your skin soft against his calloused hands. Heating up under his touch, the scent of your arousal rose in the air. Mixing up with the lingering scent of last night activities. His tongue slid in your mouth, tasting his minty toothpaste. He swallowed the moan you let out as his thumb brushed against your hardened nipple. A smile graced his lips at the sound.

A low rumble from your stomach interrupted you both.

“Let’s put some food in your stomach before we take this any further, yeah?” Matt laughed; his eyes focused on your chin.

“Yeah,” you nodded, huffing out a laugh of your own.

“Come on,” he helped you down, patting your butt as you moved to grab the mugs from his cabinet.

You placed the mugs on the table, pouring coffee for both of you while Matthew plated your breakfast. In the streets below, the city was bursting with life, cars honking, people heckling, police sirens. And there you were, moving around his kitchen, in a comfortable domesticity. He couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips when he sat down across from you.

You fitted perfectly into his life.

“What?” You asked him before taking a bite of your eggs.

He shook his head, “nothing. I’m—I’m just glad you came last night.”

Your lips lifted at the corner, “I’m glad I did too—several times.”

Matt burst out laughing. One of those belly laughs that made you giggle along with him. You loved hearing his laugh, and seeing the giant grin that came with it. You loved seeing the crinkle around his eyes when he did, how it lit up his face. He looked younger. He looked happy.

He was happy.

“I’m also glad I came last night.” You said again, something in your tone made the smile on his face drop slightly. “I’m still—wrapping my mind around it,” you took a hold of your coffee mug, the heat of the dark liquid warming up your hands. “But—I want all of it. I want all of you.”

Your soft words sounded like an oath. An oath, he knew you would keep. His hand reached out for yours, interlacing his fingers with yours. His eyes, warm and soft, unfocused, falling somewhere along your collarbone. While your heart under your ribcage tried to escape its cage. His lips turned up at the corner as his thumb brushed against your knuckles, he enjoyed the way you responded to his touch. To his words. He would never tire of this, he knew it. He loved how a simple brush of his fingers had your breath hitched in your throat. How a simple smile from him made you grinned bright and wide. The most beautiful smile he’s ever heard.

Matthew Murdock, the lawyer, the vigilante, had felt the pull of you since the very first time he heard the steady pitter-patter of your heart across the bar. It had become his favorite song. He could tell it was yours as soon as you stepped into a room. It skipped a beat when your eyes landed on him, and he could sense the smile that split your face. The song of your heart was accompanied by your familiar fragrance. The very one he couldn’t get enough of. Especially now that it was perfectly blended with his.

“I want all of you.”

Matt believed God had place you in his life that night. His salvation. The solution to his inner struggles. Near you, the world grew quieter, less hectic. You were his haven. His peace. His shelter away from the chaos of Hell’s Kitchen.

You have touched his heart in ways other had not. And he knew your imprint would stay there forever. That he would carry it with him forever.

“You know—” you started, pulling him out of his thoughts and putting down your fork. “Since we’re revealing secrets, I have to tell you—“ he waited patiently, his heart speeding up in anticipation. “you—are my longest relationship. Ever. My first real boyfriend.”

He let out a low laugh, “I found that hard to believe.”

“Well, I did have—previous relationships but—they were really—flings. And they didn’t last long. And with you—things are—different.” Your heart sounded as though it tried to escape your ribcage. Your ears heated up as the blood rushed to them.

As he had dreamt of doing many times before, he reached to sooth away the heat of your ears. “Different, how?”

“Better,” you leaned into his touch, “I think—you’re—it for me.” A slow grin made its way onto his face. “I mean—I don’t—what I’m trying to say is—” you let out a shaky breath. “I—I—I don’t want this with anyone else.”

“Good,” he let go of your ear before wrapping his arms around you. “Cause I don’t want this with anyone else, either.”

He leaned in pressing his lips against yours, pulling you out of your chair, you let out a small shriek that he swallowed in a heated kiss. He pulled you tight against him, his arms circled your back in a tight embrace. With no intention of letting go of you. Never.  

“So, everything’s fine between you and Matt?” Amelia asked you while you stared down at the two label makers in your hands.

“Yes, for the hundredth time, everything is fine between us,” you answered without looking up. “Which one looks better?” You showed her the two products.

“The handheld one,” Amelia pointed to the one in your left hand. “At least, there’s letters on this one. The other one might be too hard for you to figure out.”

“But it looks pretty,” you whined.

“Maybe, but unpractical for you.”

You let out a deep sigh, “you’re making a lot of sense and I don’t like it.” You put down the colorful one and kept the handheld braille label maker.

“It’s a curse,” Amelia shrugged. “Are you really sure that everything—?”

“Girl, if you ask me one more time, I’m gonna punch you in the titties,” you threatened her.

She cupped both of her boobs, gasping, “you wouldn’t?”

“Oh, I would,” you assured her. “Everything is fine between Matt and me. We talked it over and solved it. Everything’s good. So, stop asking.”

“You’re not even going to tell me why you two were fighting in the first place?”

“No. I don’t need to.”

“Oh, come on. Give me something.”

“Amelia, whatever’s going on between Matt and me—stays between Matt and me, okay?” You turned to face her again, “if I tell you what we were fighting about, you’re only going to get one side of the story. My side of the story. And you’ll side with me. But you don’t know Matt like I do. I don’t want you to build up resentment towards him on my behalf. I want you to love Matt for Matt. I don’t want you to hate him for me.”

“Fair enough,” she laced her arm with yours as you made your way to the checkout lines. “I’m kinda proud of you.”

“You are? What for?”

“Setting up boundaries, protecting your man,” Amelia listed off, “I love this for you. And for Matt.” She squeezed your arm affectionately, “have you said the words, yet?”

“What words?”

“You know—I love you?”

You cleared your throat, your heartbeat speeding up immediately, “I want to but—I feel like it might be too soon.”

“It’s never too soon. If you are with the right person—which I think you are—he’s going to say it back.” She smiled down at you. “He won’t run away.”

You let out a deep sigh, “I guess I need a little more time.”

The words always seemed to be stuck in your throat. Every time you had wanted to say them, it felt like this huge step you were about to take. It felt as though the words would change your relationship forever. And you weren’t ready for this.

Not yet.

After spending the whole afternoon labelling the different items in your kitchen, you put the label maker in your junk drawer. Someone knocked on your door, stopping you from putting away your spice jars. Your socked feet padded on the hardwood floor as you made your way to the door.  A grinning Matt stood on the other side.

“Hey, sweetie,” he greeted you softly, his hands gripping your hips. He pecked your lips.

“Hey, baby,” your arms wrapped around his shoulders. “How was your day?” You asked him, pulling him inside your apartment.

“Busy,” he answered, you closed the door behind him as he moved towards your bedroom, putting down his duffel bag by the door. “We still need to figure out a few details on the case but we’re getting there.”

You walked back to the kitchen, and proceeded to put away the spice jars. “Does this mean it’s almost over? Or there’s still a long way to go?”

He huffed out a laugh, “there’s still a long way to go. Those court cases last for months. And more often than not it ends up on a settlement.”

“And what about the underground part of things?”

He leaned over the kitchen counter, grabbing one of the spice jars in his hands. He let out a long sigh, “well, on this front, things are getting rather complicated.”

“Complicated how? Aren’t the two connected somehow?”

“They are but proving it—is—harder than I thought it would be,” Matt’s head tilted slightly, his thumb running on the braille label, his eyebrows pulling down into a frown. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

He pushed off of the counter and walked up to you, you gulped down your saliva. Nervous. He took one the jars, still in your hands, from you. “Is that—?”

“Nutmeg, yeah,” you replied quickly.

He huffed out a shaky laugh, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. Shaking his head, he took your hand gently, and guided your fingers over the label.

You took in a shaky breath, nervous. Blood rushed to your cheeks and to your ears, “see, Amelia and I went out together to buy a label maker. A braille one. I figured that since you’re spending a lot of time in my apartment, I might as well make the place comfortable for you. Because I do want you to feel comfortable, you know,” you finished with a shrug.

“Yeah?” A wide grin split his face in two.

“Yeah,” you let out with a smile of your own. “You like it?”

He put down the jars and pulled you into him, your body molding into his immediately. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, his lips hovering above your own. His sightless eyes staring down at you. Full of something warm. Filled with fondness. Beautiful.

Your arms wrapped tight around his waist. Deep in his chest, right where his heart was, something warm, akin to love stirred up. He didn’t need you to say the words to know how you truly felt about him.

Didn’t need words to know how he truly felt about you.

His lips pecked yours, “very much,” another kiss, “I like it a lot.”

You pulled away a little, biting down on your bottom lip, “are you sure it’s okay for you to spend the night? We could always stay at your place. It’s not too late for that.”

“I’m sure,” he assured you. “I want to make up for lost time,” he brushed your hair away from your face. “And I love staying at your place. It smells like you.”

Your lips turned up in a bright smile, “what do I smell like?”

Matthew leaned into you, burying his nose in your neck, he inhaled deeply, “divine.” He murmured against your neck, the brush of his lips against your neck sending shivers down your spine. Desire shot down your core. Soon, his lips pressed intently against your neck, “delicious.” Your hands run along the curve of his back. His lips travelled up to your jaw before finishing their course on your mouth. Tasting the sweet nectar of your soft lips.

Words weren’t enough to describe how much you meant to each other. How deep your love for each other truly ran.

Previous Chapter || Chapter List || Next chapter

[hellsburners]

hello…saw your request for requests (lol) and was wondering if you’re serving pain and suffering? 🤭

maybe jealousy trope with reader finding out about matt & elektra from the scene where they’re making out to escape the gala guards? or full blown out cheating with elektra or karen or claire. if you really wanna stick it as m/m, maybe with frank? i just chose elektra/karen as an element of m!reader not being on that gender as a point of contention between matt and sexuality, but whichever way to wish it to go will be all up to you.

thank you and i hope this gets chosen, but no pressure. thanks! 🥰

-tcw

hey anon! so i planned on making two fics abt this, one with mattfrank and one with mattelektra. I took pain and suffering a little bit literal on this but i hope u like themmmm

→ pain and suffering with mattfrank is here

→ strain and torment with mattelektra is here!