#sub!matt murdock x dom!reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

frankcastlescumslut · 2 years ago

Text

Wicked Games

pairing: Matt Murdock x Female Reader

word count: 5.8k

synopsis: Matt needs to be put back together after a rough night of patrolling Hell’s Kitchen

warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI!! angst-ish!! BDSM-y!! edging, bondage, boot riding, oral (m/f receiving), fingering, p in v, breeding kink if you squint, humiliation/praise kink, dom!matt, sub!reader, use of “sir” / “good girl”/“daddy”, some aftercare <3

A/N: heyyyy :p sorry I’ve been MIA, inspiration has struck since watching season 3 and I needed this, so please enjoy my nasty thoughts (:

as always, I love reading your feedback and comments!! reblogs are more than welcome <3

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK !!!

Glaring red digits of the alarm clock burn through your sleep-clouded vision as the walls abruptly shake, causing you to wake. It’s well past midnight and you almost give yourself permission to be aggravated at the slamming hatch and weak foundation of Matt’s apartment, but you know better, and more importantly, you know your lover returned— alive.

It would only be a matter of minutes before he would slip next to your relaxed body, place a gentle kiss to the crook of your neck and apologize for waking you; the thought alone relaxes you into the sweet anticipation of your routine.

That’s what you expect, at least, and yet minutes pass as if they have no concept of time. The spot behind your back grows colder as the bed remains empty, and the sounds of heavy footsteps alongside clinking glass emphasize the silent room.

Just a rough night. Just a rough night. Just a rough night.

You attempt to ease your worries with the familiar, albeit honest, excuse to justify his path to penance by repeating the mantra until your eyelids grow heavy, practically baiting sleep. It would only be so long until he would find you in bed and entangle himself with your limbs, whispering promises of safety into your hairline and relaxing to the sound of your even breaths.

In, out. In, out. In-

The shatter of glass pulls your eyelids open and lifts you from the bed as if some puppeteer pulled a string straight from your sternum.

“Matt?” you call out, shuffling to your feet through remnants of sleep, afraid you would find him incapacitated, and the sliding door groans as you shove it open, masking the sound of your exhale.

Even through the drowsy daze, you watch neon bathe his tense frame as he expertly paces throughout the apartment. He must've known you would wake from his brooding, yet he secretly wished you would turn a blind eye to his frustrations in hopes of maintaining some semblance of dignity.

“Matthew?” you try again, a little louder this time, to emphasize your presence.

He knew you were there, of course- the thump of your heart practically reverberated throughout his chest and echoed in his ears.

“Is there anything I can-“

“Just go.” His voice echoes throughout the apartment, the gruff tone stunning you momentarily. He stops to exhale, running a calloused hand over his down turned lips in a tidal wave of emotions- mostly regret and embarrassment at his short reaction to your concern. “Just go back to sleep, it’s fine.”

“Clearly it’s not fine,” you shoot back, defensiveness quickly forming in your chest. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

Sleep quickly dissipates from your body as glimmering shards of glass catch your eye. You attempt to draw closer to inspect his current state, wanting to ensure he wasn’t critically injured, only to feel the familiar pang of rejection as he moves away from your outstretched hand.

“I’m fine. You should sleep.” He turns further from you, secretly grateful that his lack of vision shields him from the greatest shame, knowing you wear heartbreak on your face.

“Bullshit,” you spit, your feet landing thunderously against the floor.

“Go to bed, please,” he groans, only stopping with a frown as your fingers wrap around his bicep, finally pulling him to face you.

“You don’t get to just walk in here, throw a fucking tantrum, and pretend like everything is fine! You don’t get to push me away like this!”

Matt tears from your gentle grasp, unwilling to admit that your argument holds a significant amount of weight. In his shame and impulsiveness, he mimics a young Catholic boy, unable to cope with his personal shortcomings and inability to communicate his frustrations.

The sole of his boot collides with an innocent leather couch, causing it to slide a few inches, and the soft suction of your cupped palm greeting your mouth cuts through the deep groan of wood against wood, practically rupturing his eardrums.

“I almost lost you tonight!” His footsteps are leaden, leaving holes in the floorboards as he confesses.

You wait silently, watching Matt pace the small space in search of composure.

“What are you talking about?” Your voice gets lodged in your throat, but he hears you nonetheless.

“They knew your name.”

“Who?” The question leaves your lips carefully, attempting to ignore his sudden outburst.

“It doesn’t matter now.” His voice is hardly audible and hidden under what sounds like regret, maybe even disappointment.

Even in the dark, his pain radiates from his face.

“Did you…“

You want to ask if he had crossed his deeply etched line of morality, but refrain, ultimately to preserve your own feelings— unwilling to face whether you were selfishly worth dying over or not.

“No, I didn’t kill him.” He answers the lingering question with a huff of amusement and tinge of detest, lowering himself carefully onto the coffee table.

“Oh.”

The buzz of fluorescent billboards emphasizes the silence that hangs heavy in the air, seemingly pushing you further from him even though you remain planted firmly.

Unbeknownst to you, Matt’s world remains chaotic and clamored as he tunes his senses to the way your silence draws out the hurt.

“I almost lost control,” he clears his throat before his head hangs from his neck like it’s a rusted hinge. “I almost lost control and I almost killed a man.”

His confession leads you to look at him, to see him, for the first time that night.

You expect to find a broken man, and you do- the gash on his forehead, the reddened and bruised cheeks, the split in his upper lip, all evident even feet away- but you were unprepared to find an orphaned boy curled in on himself, fighting two invisible gods that threatened to tear him in half.

The thought of your worthiness being dependent upon inflicted violence suddenly chokes you, and you gravitate towards him effortlessly.

“Listen to me,” your gentle voice beckons him, but he ignores the instinct.

“I was so close. He knew your name, and I swear I could’ve- I should have-“ his lip quivers in admission, consequently dragging you to your knees in front of his folding stature.

“But you didn’t, because you are a good man.” His cheeks warm the palms of your hands as you interrupt him, the floorboards groaning as you lean forward. “You hear me? You are a good man, Matthew Murdock.”

He feels the sincerity of your words and intent gaze as you study his face, forcing him to soften under your tender inspection. His huff of disbelief echoes between your bodies, and you allow it to settle, filling the gap with nervous anticipation.

“You don’t have to-“

“Stop it.” You interrupt, already anticipating his onslaught of self deprecation.

“You could have been killed-“

“Well I wasn’t so-“

“Stand up, you’ll bruise your knees.”

The instructions catch you off guard before you realize your attempts to stealthily shift your weight did not fall on deaf ears.

“I’m fine. But really, though-“

“Stand up.”

The quick rebuttal you form catches in the back of your throat, and an invisible, familiar feeling begins to blossom in the depths of your chest as you note his stern undertone, cheeks warming consequently.

You almost feel guilty for your instinctive, physical reaction to his authority, given the nature of the current predicament, but you catch the way he clears his throat to mask the implications of his allusive tone, and swallow your own embedded shame in return.

Get it together.

The stale apartment air floods your nostrils as you brace your palms on Matt’s clothed thighs. He mimics you, holding his breath at the unexpected touch, only to relax as you use him as leverage to follow his directions.

Your knees thank you while you straighten gingerly, and you stare at your feet, careful to avoid his roaming eyes. You don’t need to watch him to know he’s attuning himself to your current state. There’s a certain intensity, an unspoken eagerness to the busy silence; his vacant gaze follows the way your body anxiously sways in front of him, and you hold your breath in wanton anticipation.

Get it together.

Time passes on its own accord, and while you tower over Matt, you somehow feel small and vulnerable under his assessment. It was almost intrusive at times, knowing that he was currently calculating your pulse, identifying which parts of your body were warmer, how shallow your breaths became if he gripped at his own knee to compose himself…

Get it together.

You attempt to distract yourself from his assessment and trail your gaze towards his face.

He looks untouchable yet so human, so broken- the way the neon emphasizes the deep shades of purple and red blossoming against his cheeks, the sunken troughs beneath his eyes, the rusted stain against his top lip- and you act without thought.

“Let me help you.” Your request leaves your lips without permission, forcing you to confront the growing desire that branches throughout different corners of your body.

He’s like a magnet, or perhaps a puppeteer, and you inch closer towards him like you’ve done so many times before.

To your surprise, he doesn’t recede, and you carefully thread your fingers through the hair against the nape of his neck. He closes the space, leaning a heavy head against you, and wraps exhausted arms around your frame while relishing in your presence.

In the rare moments that Matt surrenders to himself, you always remember to silently thank whatever higher power for the intimate moments, and you do— so much so that he notices the semi-hypnotic trance you find yourself in while holding him close to you.

“Let me help you feel better, please,” you whisper, afraid if you voiced your desires any louder that the bubble would burst around the sacred embrace.

He lifts his head at your request, noting the desperation in your voice, before weighing the costs of his own longing- your flushed cheeks and strong pulse helping him in solidifying his decision to trail his hands down your back.

You nearly whine at the perceived separation, but quickly silence yourself as he skillfully lifts your hoodie over your head before dropping it to the floor.

He moves swiftly, lifting himself from the table with a fervor, and you find yourself pulled into his chest. Your lips crash together, teeth practically clashing, and he swallows his name while hungrily pulling your face towards his, desperate for any part of you.

You almost feel guilty at the way you’re already falling apart, but your insecurities are overshadowed by the way Matt nips at your bottom lip and grabs at any exposed skin as if you would disappear if he let go of you.

In your own earnestness, your hands act independently, gripping the soft strands of his hair and tugging ever so slightly, pulling a breathy moan from him as your lips part from each other.

“C’mere,” he growls, sliding his hands towards the crook of your knees to hoist you onto his torso.

You giggle at his ardor while wrapping your legs around his frame, not once questioning his intentions. His lips quickly attach to the column of your neck before drawing a moan out of you as he sucks the skin lightly, teasing the tender flesh with teeth.

“Baby, please,” your unfinished request falls on expectant ears, and he takes the initiative to guide you both to the room, though not without difficulty as you adjust against him.

The cool metal door greets your back abruptly, nearly knocking the wind out of you as Matt stumbles, too distracted by the growing warmth between your thighs and fluttering heartbeat.

“Matthew!”

“I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” you laugh against his cheek before leaving a trail of kisses alongside of his scruffy jaw, ending below his ear. “Just get me to the bed in one piece.”

The mattress sinks beneath your weight and you find yourself engulfed as Matt hovers over your body. He kisses the already sensitive spot on your neck while his hands roam your soft skin, chuckling as he pulls sweet noises from you.

“Baby…” you whine, writhing and shoving your hips into him in search of attention.

“What’s the matter sweetheart?” He mumbles into your neck while his fingertips graze over your hardened nipples, causing you to gasp.

Lines form against your forehead as you study his reaction, experimentally dragging your palm against the evident bulge in his pants. He anticipates your forwardness, quickly wrapping a bruised hand around your wrist and pinning it above your head, before tracing the column of your neck and thrumming pulse with his tongue.

“Did you mean it?” He growls against you, his spare hand snaking towards your aching core. “Did you mean it when you said you wanted to help me?”

Your legs are manually parted as he shoves a hand between your thighs, cupping your clothed cunt, and you can’t help but peel your back off the mattress at the subtle friction, lust clouding your senses completely.

“Answer me,” he taps against your core harshly, prompting your attention. “Did you mean it, angel? Be honest, I’ll know if you’re lying.”

“Y-yes I meant it!” Tap. “I mean it!” Tap.

“Good girl.”

In your own selfishness, you expect him to indulge himself in your dripping offering, and to your astonishment and disappointment, he instead places a featherlight kiss beneath your jaw before pulling away from you.

His changed demeanor leaves you breathless while gentle, panting breaths float around your bodies as you attempt to collect yourself. He studies you— listening and acclimating to your exact needs and responses. His intensity is felt as it aimlessly wanders the features of your flushed face.

During the small windows of inspection, you yourself have become accustomed to Matt’s reactions, easily identifying his yearning by the way his chest falls in short succession to the way his lips part in nervous expectancy before finally melting into you.

This kiss is different. The way he touches you is soft and intentional, tracing the outline of your jaw and the curvature of your ear, sealing his adoration with a stamp against your forehead.

“You trust me, right?” He whispers against your lips.

“Of course I do.”

Although you mask your confusion, your heart betrays you, fluttering in your chest.

He listens to the rhythmic thudding as if it were communicating with him, practically pleading that he stop his routine of self denial and give in to his vices.

You notice his quick smirk before processing the way his knuckles graze against the mounds of your breast and trace the outline of your body.

“And you know I love you, right?”

“Yes.” You shiver against the delicate touch.

“Good…” he runs calloused fingertips against your thighs before returning his attention to your lips. “Kneel on the ground and hold out your wrists.”

The demand barely registers through your hazy awareness, and you’re only cognizant of Matt’s missing warmth from the way your limbs prickle.

He is hypnotic, moving effortlessly around the room in pursuit of something you’re unsure and uncaring about. You nearly reach out, practically desperate to touch any part of him, and yet you’re only able to concentrate on the way the flashing lights emphasize the contours of his muscles hidden beneath his fitted black shirt.

“Do I need to remind you of where you’re supposed to be?”

You gasp unintentionally at the alluring timbre mere inches from your ear- too preoccupied with the glimpse of maroon swinging from his closed fist, an indicator of your immediate future.

“No,” you exhale, silently cursing yourself at your incompetence while shuffling around his body, bracing yourself against the hardwood floor. “I’m sorry.”

Before he could correct you, you hold out your wrists to him in submission.

It feels odd at first— surrendering to his fervor and your own hunger, knowing his cognition has been blanketed with the desires of the flesh while you dangle in front of him on your knees.

You can’t help but wonder whether you are the one who washes his wounds or are nothing more than the inflictor, simply offering tangible and fleeting relief to his moralistic suffering.

“Matthew,”

“I’m okay,” he precedes your concern, kneeling in front of you. “I just… need to feel in control for a little bit. Can you help me do that?”

It feels as if the roles had switched and you could audibly hear his nervous heartbeats and feel the warmth radiating from his neck and cheeks.

You nod, knowing he can sense your agreement.

“But if you say stop,”

“We stop.” You finish his sentence.

“Exactly.” He exhales with a mirrored smile, scanning your face earnestly before landing his vacant gaze just beyond your left ear.

The maroon rope feels heavy in his hand and he stiffens, the end of it hardly brushing against your bare thigh as if to make a subtle introduction.

He catches the way you hold your breath in the chasm of your throat at the gentle intrusion before guiding your exposed wrists to his lips, sighing into the way your pulse reacts to his touch.

“I love you,” his declaration fans against your delicate skin before he lifts himself from his kneeling posture, now completely towering over your submissive form.

The room is filled with an electric hum; whether it was the blinding billboards or the charged current circulating both your bodies, you were unsure, but you knew Matt could feel it as well.

He remains silent, drawing out the suspense as he exaggerates the fluid motions by pulling the rope to accentuate his wingspan before cuffing your wrists, leaving you wide-eyed and expectant.

Meticulous patterns form around your skin as the rope burns deliciously with each loop, and although it doesn’t hurt, you wince, drawing a breath between your teeth.

Matt cranes his neck towards your reaction, his jaw growing taut as he listens for your heartbeat and warmth blooming across your cheeks, chest, and between your thighs.

“Feel okay?” he asks, roughly tugging the tail ends of the rope.

“Mhm.”

“What was that?” You jerk forward unexpectedly, whining as your knees crush into the floor while he pulls the ends of the rope together with force, cinching the cuffs to your wrists. “I asked you a question, sweetheart. Use your words.”

“Yes sir, it feels good.” The blush creeps towards your ears in embarrassment, emphasized by the way Matt silently knots the loose ends.

You study his work, admiring the way the rope hugs your skin and applies the perfect amount of pressure to your veins while securing you to submission before he loops a finger through the middle knot and tugs, inspecting his own handiwork.

It’s evident that you are timid- nearly naked and restrained, Matt circles you, noting the way he has reduced you to nothing but wanton expectation.

You feel like a caged bird; displayed for the masses while others indulge in your beauty— the excitement and hope of being rewarded overpowering the nagging urge to open and offer yourself up for the taking.

The lack of attention is maddening, and you make no attempts to hide it, completely aware that Matt is relishing in your impatience.

He knows it’s a cruel game, but your fluttering heart and shaky breaths only add onto his enjoyment as he controls your reactions, finding it particularly amusing to watch you clench your thighs in search of any kind of relief.

And while it is a cruel game, he also prides himself on being fair and just, leading him to slide a thick boot between your parted thighs as he centers himself in front of you.

“Fuck,” you moan at the unexpected contact.

He extends a hand to cradle your face and you watch him with pathetic puppy dog eyes.

“What’s wrong angel? Does it feel good?” His tone teases you.

“Yes sir,” your voice is embarrassingly small and you shrink under the way his eyes desperately scan your face.

“I know it does. You’re gonna help me and I’m gonna help you, okay? Can you do that for me?”

You look divine— wrists bound in maroon and held close to your chest as if you were praying to him, nearly drooling as he fiddles with the buttons of his pants.

As much as you crave to be touched and devoured, your need to be used- to be the one that relieves him of his iniquities- takes precedent, and you impatiently stretch your arms to help him undress.

“Come on, angel. You know better,” he gently scolds, attempting to disguise his amusement. “Are you really that desperate?”

You audibly whimper as he spits into his palm before stroking his length in front of you, and he knows that you don’t have to verbally answer him- he can practically taste your dripping cunt as you grind against his boot.

But you do answer, though, and open your mouth to offer your throat to him with complete satisfaction as he smirks.

“So fuckin’ eager, huh?” He taps the tip of his cock against your tongue. “Go on then, take it.”

Without a second thought, you wrap your lips around his length, quickly pulling a moan from the depths of his chest. You do your best to take as much of him as you can without using your hands, skillfully running your tongue against the shaft before hollowing your throat to fit him.

He hisses in pleasure and you hum around his heavy cock as he bucks his hips automatically, quickening the pace in selfish pursuit.

“There you go,” he thumbs away the stray tear that follows the contours of your cheek. “You’re doing so good for me.”

The praise baits you and you take it with ease, bobbing your head in rhythm with his thrusts. You’re too engulfed by his affirming moans to care about the drool that coats your swollen lips, consequently dripping onto your bare chest.

“Fuck,” he grits, grabbing your cheeks to pull you off of him before he finishes embarrassingly fast and collides his lips with yours. “Make yourself feel good, sweetheart. You deserve it after waiting so patiently.”

You want to be ashamed. You want to be absolutely humiliated at the speed in which you follow his orders, but the way your hips move automatically, dragging your clothed core across his filthy boot and the expletives that fall from your lips suggest otherwise.

“Feels so good,” you whimper, dropping your head against his knee.

“I know, angel. You’re doing so good for me.”

The heels of your palms support your weight as you pick up your pace, chasing your pleasure while your pulse thrums against the maroon rope in tandem.

“Look at you,” he coos, wrapping his fingers through your hair to pull your face towards him. “Such a dirty girl riding my boot like that.”

“Such a dirty girl,” you repeat, already feeling your judgment become clouded with the oncoming ecstasy.

Matt laughs in disbelief, almost impressed at how quickly you have unraveled beneath him. He can tell by the way your hips stutter and fingernails scrape against the floorboards that you are encroaching upon your first orgasm, and he almost gives it to you— almost.

“C’mon now, you know better than that…” he tsks, noting your confusion as you freeze. “You should know that I’m the only one who gets to make you cum, angel.”

You should have known better than to doubt Matt’s leniency; he was very black and white, rare to show unwarranted mercy towards those who are undeserving, and you have yet to convince him that you are worthy of a climactic release.

With leaden hips, you stop your movements, hoping to be rewarded for your compliance.

“Please, Matt…”

“What’s the matter?” He teases, beckoning for you to stand with outstretched arms.

You meet him, your knees groaning as you struggle to gain your balance, only to be held upright by a large hand cupping your warm cunt.

“Jesus!” Your moans fill the air as you throw your head back, desperately grabbing onto his shirt through the confines of your roped cage.

“Wrong guy, sweetheart,” he smirks before placing a kiss to your pulse, gently swirling his fingertips against your drenched panties while leading you to the bed.

The mattress dips beneath your weight as you plop down, only ceasing to part from Matt’s lips while he hastily attempts to undress.

You drink him in, enchanted by the way his muscles work in tandem with his own fervor, the fluorescent lights washing over his contours and scars as if to pay homage to his own selflessness.

Without thinking, you reach out for him, fingertips barely grazing the elastic waistband of his boxers.

“Did I say you could touch me?”

“No, but,” you hardly expect his reaction, let alone the way he slides his hands beneath your knees, forcing your body towards him

“Did I say that you could touch me?” He enunciates his words carefully.”

“No sir.”

“No sir,” he repeats. “That’s right, do I need to remind you of your place?”

Sliding your legs further apart, you open yourself up to him like some offering on a golden plate; his threat is felt between your thighs, and you make no efforts to hide the effect of his words.

��No sir,” you smirk at the way he clenches his jaw as your scent captures his attention.

“I don’t think I agree with you, angel.”

The cool air hitting your drenched core sends a shiver through your body as Matt tears your underwear from your hips in an attempt to reinstate his authority. You stifle a laugh at his urgency, knowing your efforts for attention had not been in vain, and yet the thrill of punishment excites you.

Without fail, you find yourself being spread open to a hungry and awaiting audience.

A warm breath fans against your inner thighs and you shudder at the intimate intrusion. His lips savor the warmth of your skin, his fingers gripping onto your soft flesh like you’re threatening to melt away.

“Matthew,” you moan as he inches closer to your pussy, but never close enough.

“Hm?” he murmurs into your skin, and you tremble as he adorns your body, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his exploration.

“Your mouth,” you gasp as he experimentally brushes the pad of his thumb against your clit, never peeling his lips off of you.

“What about it?”

“I want it!” Your hips buck towards him on their own accord, chasing any kind of attention.

“You want it?” He draws a finger between your folds, collecting your sweet offering before bringing it to his tongue. “Tell me where you want my mouth.”

“On my- God! On my pussy! Please!”

“You’re so cute when you beg.”

He indulges himself per your request, his warm breath fanning across your core before he satisfies his thirst, drinking you in with a flat tongue and open mouth moan.

You melt against him effortlessly as his mouth satisfies your prolonged pleasure, trying to touch him, to bring him impossibly closer while he teases your clit, but your fingers hardly graze the tufts of hair between your knotted restraints.

He ignores your selfish attempts, too preoccupied by your taste, his senses completely engulfed by all that is you.

It’s humiliating at how quickly your orgasm builds. Your body feels like it’s on fire with each languid stroke of his tongue against your sensitive clit, his fingers marking you with ownership as he anchors himself to your thighs, moaning into your cunt like a starved man.

“Matthew, I’m so close.”

He actually whimpers, scrunching his eyes while grinding his hips into the mattress for some release, knowing that he is the one responsible for your ecstasy.

“Cum for me, princess,” he mumbles into you before expertly sliding a finger into your pussy, hooking you to him as he pulls your orgasm out of you, selfishly giving over some control for his own insatiable desires.

You obey perfectly, unraveling against Matt’s tongue as he works you, your vision blurring and wrists burning from the tension against the maroon ropes.

“Stop!” You croak out, twitching from overstimulation.

“What’s the matter, honey? Is everything okay?” He pulls away from you with glistening, downturned lips.

“Out,” you hold out your wrists. “I need out. Please.”

Matt is quick to respond and unbinds you as gently as possible, taking extra care to caress the patterned indentations along your delicate skin.

“You did so good for me,” your pulse thumps against his wet lips as he soothes you, gently squeezing the lengths of your arms to relax the muscles.

Free from the confines of your mental and maroon cage, you yield to the crumbling preservation and melt into a familiar safety of Matt’s gentle affection.

“Need you,” you whisper, freely stretching your hands towards Matt’s face, drawing him into you for the first time. And although he nearly crushes you, the added weight is comforting, filling a part of you that had been gnashing and snarling for attention.

Your lips fit together, colliding with an urgency and avidity, and you swallow each other’s affinity. You study his body with your touch starved fingertips, caressing his skin and lingering over the raised markings and scars before pressing into them, collecting his moan into your mouth.

“I need you,” you raise your hips towards his length that rests between your thighs. “Please.”

Without hesitation, he pulls himself from the confines of his boxers, completely disregarding his calculated systems of control and authority, and glides his leaking tip over your drenched heat.

“Fuck,” he trembles as he positions himself over you, and you take the opportunity to mark his neck with hungry kisses.

Your attempts are futile; he intertwined his fingers with yours before slowly pressing his cock into you, your body welcoming him with ease.

“God, you’re so tight, angel.”

“You’re so fucking big.”

He listens to your body— the way your muscles contract as he rubs circles around your swollen clit, the way your cunt stretches and burns to fit him, and the way you welcome it with your eyes rolling back as he grinds his hips into your own, expertly hitting your g spot.

“Please don’t stop!” You beg, your voice bouncing off of the rafters, the echoes only encouraging him to continue his efforts. “It feels so good, baby.”

“I know it does. You’re doing such a good job taking my cock, sweetheart. Such a good job.”

He wishes he could watch the way he slides into you, watching the way your face contorts in pleasure as you take him, but he is just as satisfied hearing the lewd sounds of your cunt greedily swallowing him. He knows by the way your fingernails dig into the soft flesh of his shoulders that you are reaching your climax, practically begging him to continue.

“Matt,” you whine, desperately holding onto him like you would float away if you let go. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“What was that?” He asks, knowing fully well what you confessed.

“You’re gonna-“ you falter as you watch him suck on his fingers before circling your abused clit.

“Tell me, angel.”

“You’re gonna make me cum, daddy.”

He groans, not anticipating that your own release would trigger his.

“That’s right, sweet girl. I’m the only one that makes this pussy cum, isn’t that right?”

“Yes yes yes!” You nod while simultaneously chanting your agreement, trying your best to hold onto the building climax. “Cum in me, please! Please, I’m begging!”

“God you’re such a dirty slut, begging for daddy’s cum, huh?”

“Matthew!”

It crashes over you unexpectedly; your chest pulls towards the heavens and you scratch your name into his back as your orgasm floods your system, luring Matt to follow suit.

“Such a good girl for me, just taking my cock like that— fuck— gonna fill that pretty pussy!” His hips stutter as your greedy cunt clenches around him and he spills into you, giving you all that he can.

“There you go sweetheart, such a good girl for me,” he falls into you, melts into you, savoring the scent of every exposed inch of skin that you offer up- his breath fanning against the crook of your neck as he pumps his hips a final time for good measure before pulling out of you reluctantly.

Falling against the silk sheets, you entangle your limbs with his, connected by exhaustion and delirious smiles, reveling in the closeness and simplicity of each other’s presence.

Matt reaches out to you, cupping your face with a warm palm that invites you to nuzzle closer.

“Hi.”

You aren’t sure why you’re whispering— maybe to preserve the illusion of dignity or the sanctity, but it blankets the both of you with a tenderness that reflects the soft smiles mirrored between you.

“Hi, beautiful.”

A warmth creeps up your neck and blossoms to your cheeks, so evident that you are ablaze in his limited field of vision.

“Shut up,” you deflect, shying away from his tenderness by burrowing into the crook of your arm. You’re used to the physical affections and the acts of service, making adjustments to his definition of quality time, and yet his words never fail to make you come apart.

“Never.” You’re pulled into him against your own will but never fight back, enjoying the soft kisses that he plants against your bare shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you sneak your hand to wrap your fingers around his, bringing his knuckles to your lips to seal your declaration.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

He hesitates, filtering through which words to choose.

“For trusting me— for choosing me. Thank you.”

You turn to face him, throwing a blanket over your tangled limbs and settling in the closeness. He feels your stare studying the features of his face, landing on the creases of his bashful smile.

“I’ll always choose you, Matthew.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, and the annoying buzz of the alarm clock meddling with the sound of a busy city just outside the windows dares to pull his attention away from you. He waits, though, listening to the succession of your breaths evening out, your muscles relaxing as you nestle into his radiant warmth, and a gentle hum slip through your lips to indicate the sleep that washes over you.

“I’ll always choose you, too.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #dom!matt murdock x sub!fem reader #matt murdock smut #dom!matt murdock #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil fanfic #daredevil x female reader #daredevil smut #daredevil oneshot #matt murdock one shot

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farfromstrange · 2 years ago

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Total Eclipse Of The Heart | Matt Murdock

Matt Murdock x Vampire!reader (f!reader)

Part 1 // Part 2 (currently here) // Part 3 (coming soon)

PART TWO - Humans are dying at the hands of her species and she has to do something about it, but how can she when the object of her attraction just so happens to stumble into her path over and over again, as if he's just as addicted to her as she is to him?

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Very explicit sexual language, dubious consent (inappropriate touching, dirty talk), blood, vampires, death, bad humor, plot, religious imagery (?), submissive Matt Murdock, Dom!Reader, DARK FANTASY (dead dove do not eat), really, this is absolutely filthy dark, AND not proof-read

A/n: This is so dark, holy shit… Here’s the second part! I hope you’re not mad at me that I left you waiting. 2023 already feels so weird I don’t know why, but I’ve finally finished this chapter and I’m getting to work on the third one as we speak. The smut is coming soon, I promise. Until then, I’m just going to get you all worked up :)

DARK CONTENT UNDER HERE, 18+ ONLY!

Ever since the beginning of time, humans have felt threatened by their fellow species. The goal is self-preservation rather than preserving the world around them. At the same time though, there has never been another species so hell-bent on destroying their habitat than the human race.

She watched the seasons come and go. Where one life ended, another started. Humans were fast to reproduce, she realized, but they were also just as fast to die. Sickness and injury are the biggest threats to the human body. You could be okay one second, then on your deathbed the next. While the female body could withstand the terrible strain of childbirth, it stands no chance against cancer. You could bleed out in seconds if the right vein is nicked, and if you fall the wrong way, a broken neck will either kill you instantly or leave you dependent on machines for the rest of your life.

While humans are considered the most sophisticated species since the beginning of time, they are all collectively fragile.

The last time she was actively human, she didn’t even have a quarter of the knowledge at hand that she gained later in life. Times have changed since then. The world grew into something new, something modern, and the human race evolved with it.

They’ve never had many nice words to say about her kind, so it came naturally to be terrified of a species that was more than willing to eradicate her own.

Sure, killing and blood-sucking isn’t something that goes over well with a crowd, but she often emphasized that they weren’t all cold-blooded murderers. Not all vampires were the same, and the lore often got it wrong.

Cold, they were, but only temperature-wise. Her half of the litter, anyway. And they were murderers too, else they wouldn’t have survived this long. Drinking blood to survive was a curse she wished upon no one. It naturally made her species reborn killers; they had to take a life to sustain their own, and since death and starvation weren’t in the cards without a stake through the heart, they had to follow their most primal instincts.

She tried to refrain from murder like a good citizen, and it worked, most of the time. There are other ways to get blood that doesn’t involve murdering an innocent. In Hell’s Kitchen, she could easily roll open a map and point to a random place, and she surely would have found criminals deserving of punishment.

But there were also humans who didn’t fear her species, those who were willing to give to the cause voluntarily. They liked to call themselves blood-submissive as if it were a sexual practice on its own – the sex was a nice byproduct, and some of those people were born to be whores, but making it a new trend was something she wished would never happen.

Though she was well aware of the subculture around humans fetishizing vampires, who were all more than ready to give their blood. Humans are so susceptible to overstimulation, especially through strange forces, even the smallest taste of a vampire’s blood could get them high enough up the precipice to push them into an orgasm.

That was the one thing that enticed her the most; the human anatomy, and how responsive they were to stimuli. She knew all about it, and yet she found herself surprised again and again whenever she lay with someone new.

That evening though, she woke up with a heavy feeling in her stomach. One that wouldn’t go away.

She entered the kitchen of her shared home to find a stranger sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. Two very obvious holes adorned the young man’s neck. He didn’t look terrified when he saw her, only overly tired and perhaps a little drained.

She sighed heavily, moving to get herself a drink from the fridge. Not that she had one already sitting there, but he wasn’t hers to take. He had already been labeled with two very sharp fangs that could only belong to one person.

“Eli, you left your dinner in the kitchen!” her voice bounced off the high walls, doing black flips until it finally made the human twitch. “No offense,” she said. “I’m just not a fan of waking up to blood banks sitting at my kitchen counter.”

He opened his mouth, but no words would come out.

She grinned. With her mug in hand, she returned to ask the boy, “Coffee?”

He declined.

“Well, you can’t say I haven’t tried to be hospitable with you.”

Just in time, Eli came around the corner wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. She rolled her eyes. It was one of those guests.

She met Eli somewhere around 1800 when she spent some time in the deserts of Egypt. He was only a couple of days old then, bitten by a passing vampire with no regard for human life. Eli was lucky to have survived, but with no one to teach him, he went rogue and slaughtered his entire village in a hungry haze. When he came to, the life he once knew had been destroyed beyond repair.

She saved him. Initially, she planned to just pass through, but the word about a vampire on the loose traveled fast, even back then, and so she found herself in Eli’s village soon after, convincing him to join her. She saved his life and therefore, he felt as if he owed her. They never left each other's side again.

Though sometimes, Eli was particularly hard to live with. He was almost like an unruly child, and he left his food lying out most of the time – he tended to forget that wasn’t the only hungry one in the household.

“Would you stop calling every human I bring home a blood bank?” he said.

“If you stop letting them stay for breakfast,” she retorted.

He met her bitter smile with a sour one of his own. “Not everyone feels the need to submit to you as Talon does.”

“Maybe I should make that a rule then. I mean, I am the head of this coven, after all. The least you can do is give me some respect.” She eyed the young man still sitting at the counter, completely hypnotized by the shirtless man prancing around the kitchen. “And your blood whores, too, before you start giving them a sexually transmitted human disease. Or turn them into one of us.”

He scoffed. She patted his shoulder as she passed by him, taking the chance to whisper into his ear, “Would be a shame if I had to drive a stake through one of them when all they signed up for was just a little fun.”

She couldn’t help herself. On her way out, she passed by the helpless human, pulling his head back by the hair to reveal his deliciously long neck, and she dipped her nose to take him in. The blood running through his veins smelled beyond divine. Sweet temptation. She wanted to bury her teeth in his soft skin and suck until he was empty. “Ah, delicious,” she said. “Youngblood, untainted, pure. Excellent pick. I wonder if he tastes as good as he smells.”

The tips of her sharp fangs scratched at his neck, and she had to force herself to pull away before she could make the mistake of taking Eli’s food off his plate.

“Get him out of here,” she told him. “Before I make you bathe in holy water for the rest of the week.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

The respect issue was a problem she had to deal with. She wasn’t someone to play around, with except for the bedroom. She was nothing if not playful there, with someone writhing underneath her and begging for the mercy of pleasure, and they would always get what they wanted and deserved. She was considerate like that. But her lovers also never struggled to pay her respect. That seemed to be a family problem only.

Perhaps she had to assert more dominance over them too, even if it was just for kicks. They would learn soon enough. It wasn’t exactly easy to be a leader, after all. That was common knowledge even amongst the undead.

The vibrations of the phone in her pocket caused her to look up. She checked the text – a piece of technology she was quite fond of, the cell phone – and if she hadn’t been pale enough already, she surely would have turned white as a sheet right about now.

“What happened?” she asked as she entered the main room.

Talon nodded his head. “I just got word from my source at the police station,” he told her.

“And?”

“There’s been several suspicious murders in Hell’s Kitchen in the past week.”

“If I wanted a broken record player, I would have gone into the attic. Spit your words out now, Talon, or I will cut out your tongue.”

He flinched, remaining in his position with his head bowed downward. He couldn’t look into her almost blacked-out eyes and be met with disappointment.

“The victims have been drained of most of their blood, but the injection sites are sloppy, so a lot of the blood got wasted and spilled around the corpses,” he said.

“That’s… graphic.” She rolled her eyes. Chaos only compelled distraction. “But not at all the details I need,” she said.

“Yes, I was just getting to the important part. There’s security footage that shows a foreign party escaping from the site of the murder, and the same person is shown a couple of days later attacking the third victim in a blood-thirsty rage.”

The scenery sounded all too familiar. She tilted her head, intrigued by his report, and moved forward. “What exactly are they saying?”

“The police are blaming it on a new drug epidemic that has the users acting out to the point they would cause a blood bath. The drug supposedly triggers hallucinations that make them unaware of their surroundings and crave violence.”

“You mean blood. The drug is making them crave blood.”

“That’s what they’re thinking, but it’s not in the official report.”

“Yeah because that drug is called vampirism and that’s not exactly an epidemic that should be happening,” she said.

Talon nodded. “Police are issuing a warning,” he told her, “without knowing what they’re warning from. It’s just a couple of kids overdosing and bleeding out in the most ghastly of ways. They’re saying it’s drugs because they don’t understand.”

She grew more and more agitated with every word that slipped past his lips. The pedestal that kept her above the man made her seem much taller than she actually was. She paced the floor. It gave her a sense of superiority that she fought very hard to receive. Her status surpassed those of the people around her. She was older and wiser and perhaps slightly more sophisticated. Her moves were calculated yet often brutal because she learned that you get nothing in life if you’re not willing to spill a little blood, literally and figuratively. To have something or someone threaten her precious freedom like that was an obvious call for action

She halted her movements when he went quiet. “Do they have proof?” she questioned as if she expected him to tell her himself.

“No,” Talon said.

“Good. Call a meeting. I need to know who did this. And make sure no one knows beforehand. The last thing I need right now is a fucking vampire uproar.”

“What, you suspect it was one of us?” He had a doubting frown resting on his pale face.

“While I have faith that you can keep your fangs in your jaw, I need to make sure I’m not misplacing that faith,” she stated. “If I’m wrong in my suspicions, that is good for you. If I’m right and one of you idiots is behind this, I will drive you to hell myself.”

“If you want to have my opinion…”

She smirked, “I really don’t.”

“But if I may?”

“You may not.” Stepping down from the pedestal, she eyed him. “Call the meeting,” she ordered. “In the meantime, I’m going to get myself a bottle of Scotch to drown my sorrows, and then I’m going to steal from the police.”

Talon yelled after her, “Do you need any help, boss?”

“Yes. You can help yourself to stop crawling up my ass! That would help me a lot, actually. Don’t get me wrong,” she said, “I like my men submissive, but your behavior is just getting pathetic now. I’m your boss, not your mother. She’s dead. Deal with it.”

It wasn’t the first time she broke into the police station in Hell’s Kitchen. Crime rates exploded at night, which meant a higher police presence in the building, but at the same time, the cells overflowed with the many criminals they caught. They were always drowning in paperwork, and the crime never seemed to take an end.

She waited until the commotion in the bullpen caused the officer at the front desk to jump from his seat and escalate the situation. She sped toward the file cabinet, retrieved what she needed, and disappeared just as fast as she had come.

The officer looked up to find nothing but a strong breeze knocking the documents off his desk. He frowned, choosing to ignore it as the man underneath him writhed against the handcuffs.

Talon said a lot yet nothing at all. She eyed the pictures in the moonlight, the dead eyes staring straight into the security cameras, the man’s body covered in blood as he left a trail of bodies along the Hudson’s riverbed. He downplayed it. This was bad, a monster out of control, someone who shouldn’t even have existed in the first place and yet somehow came to life. There were clear rules. Those rules had been broken in more than one place, shattered on the ground, and then walked over with utmost disrespect.

And he wasn’t the only one. Every murder was accompanied by one of the herds escaping, later appearing on the scene of another crime. To the untrained eye, it appeared as if these kids were high and just playing around. The blood around the bodies was significant, so the ordinary human might sort it as an overdose after all. An accident. Though none of the things she saw were accidental.

They killed without a care, without remorse, and at the rate they were going, she was sure they wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

It wasn’t the first time she had to run against the clock, but it had been a while since she was tossed into such a situation where she had to choose between peace and her most primal nature. She had to appeal to her common sense. She knew better than to let them continue this.

Humans aren’t stupid but often underestimated. At this rate, if they kept going, war seemed inevitable.

These strangers were hunting on her turf and they turned everything upside down. She wasn’t having it. She had to do something.

The wind came from the far east and blew through the streets. Many different smells lay in the air that night, but the most prominent hit her nose at the front step of the precinct.

She tilted her head. She could sense him clearly now. He still smelled the same, his blood a bittersweet taste on her tongue, and she craved more. His heartbeat filled her ears, an elevated sound. She searched for him in the night until the sound of his scruffy, careful voice caught in her ears.

He stood on the fire escape of the precinct’s second floor. The metal creaked. A door fell shut. He wasn’t alone.

“Look, man, I’d be happy to help you, especially because we are way in over our heads with this case, but I told you,” the second voice said, “The file is gone.”

She stared down at the brown folder in her hands.

“What do you mean gone?” he asked, finally, and her eyes rolled back at the mere sound of him.

He was everywhere, so goddamn overwhelming, all she wanted was to pull him off that fire escape, into the alley, and turn him into a helpless mess until he was begging her for mercy with tears in his eyes – she could only imagine the soft color behind the red glasses. Were they brown, green, or perhaps even blue? They surely would turn black with lust and then gloss over with exhaustion from the sheer overstimulation when she was done with him. Though she would only stop when the color of his eyes would disappear behind his eyelids as he slipped into a state of unconsciousness, the pleasure causing his mortal body to shut down and submit even more to the power she wielded.

“Apparently, someone took it.”

“Since when do people steal files from a police station, Sergeant?”

The man shrugged. “It’s not the first time,” he said. “Happens more often than you might think.”

“What now?” her nameless stranger asked.

She could only imagine his mouth moving in sync with his gravelly voice, the movement of his Adam’s Apple in his throat as he swallowed, and the way his hands balled to fists at his sides, the beautiful veins protruding and his knuckles turning white. She wondered how those hands would feel somewhere other than a cane or a metal rod. How they would look tracing not the brim of glass but rather a different opening. Playing with wetness until his hands were coated in it the same way he played with the condensation on the glass of his drink.

“Sergeant, if you want me to help you, I need more than a whim to go on. Do you have anything you could give me?”

“Look, I can’t help you,” the Sergeant said, “but if I did know something, I would suggest scouting out the docks. Ground zero seems to be close to the docks, but I’ve also got word that the rest of Manhattan might be involved too, so I’d be careful if I were you.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, whatever. We have heightened police presence there since the first suspected overdose, consider that before you make any wrong moves.”

That stopped him. “Suspected?” he questioned.

He was a smart one. Her lip curled into a distant smirk.

“I’m not saying it’s not an overdose, I’m just saying they’re too suspicious to be instantly ruled as such. It’s my opinion, not the official statement, and everyone else here at the station and even the DA’s office agree with the drug epidemic explanation. But I’m not sure it’s right to assume that, not yet, not without evidence,” he said. “We judge people way too quickly these days.”

The stranger chuckled again, his voice darker than when she met him, but the darkness he displayed was something she thoroughly enjoyed. It was enticing, eliciting an excitement she hadn’t felt in quite a while.

“Are you talking about me?” he asked sheepishly, and she imagined him smirking. He seemed more confident in that alley, fully in his element, not at all as submissive as he had been around her.

She wondered if there were two sides to that man whose name she still hadn’t figured out.

The Sargeant scoffed, opening the door back into the precinct. Hot air met the cold one outside, causing the air to condensate. She could feel it even from a distance, the changes in temperature, the warmth that felt more wrong than it felt right.

“Just be careful,” he told him.

The fire escape squeaked and the sound of his boots disappearing into the distance had her frowning. Blind men don’t jump rooftops and they don’t do parkour. There was more to him than she first suspected. He wasn’t the innocent man he made himself out to be. He had dark secrets that went way below the surface. Her curiosity was spiked. She needed to see him again and she needed to have him now.

She held the file in the air, watching as the edges started to crinkle and the fire spread from her fingertips, infecting the paper. The folder lit up, filling the night with yellow flames and the ashes of the several documents gone with the wind.

When the paper fully dissolved, she closed her fist and the last remaining flame vanished.

As the mysterious stranger made his way over the rooftops of the city, she turned in the opposite direction. Her first instinct was to follow, but there was no fun in chasing him just yet. She wanted to play some before she did that and wanted him to know more about her before she completely destroyed and corrupted him. His beautiful soul would only remain a faint memory.

The doors into the old, abandoned church swung open. The benches were occupied with exactly five people, two of them Eli and Talon, and the rest of what she liked to call her family, but historians would have called them a coven. An assembled group of vampires qualified as such, as did more than one witch sharing the same ideologies and sharing the same living space. That’s what the two species have in common - they are both widely hated by all kinds of religions except for Satanity.

Six vampires living in a church sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, but the place had been abandoned years ago and there was no official owner, so it was run-down and, most importantly, they didn’t require an invitation to enter. So they made their home there, choosing Hell’s Kitchen as their turf and claiming it as their territory. That had been years ago and the small chapel grew significantly to feel like home since then.

“Cold-blooded murder,” she recited as she walked down the aisle, “Blood baths, two injection sites on the neck, suspicious behavior making humans thirsty for blood, and the police declared it a fucking drug epidemic!” she said. “What century are we living in, people? Is this the seventeenth or the eighteenth? Have we traveled back in time so that these words can be used in the same sentence again, right here in New York? What bad dream am I having right now, because it surely can’t be real?”

She reached the pedestal, stepping up in front of the altar.

“Seriously, what is happening?” she asked.

They all stared at her with wide, confused eyes. Those weren’t the faces of people who were about to cause a supernatural war of the undead. They were pretty much caught off guard by her accusations and that gave her hope, considering she knew them pretty well by now to know their tells when they were lying.

“Please tell me that it’s not one of you currently going on a rampage in Hell’s Kitchen, turning innocent teenagers into ruthless, blood-thirsty vampires, and breaking every rule that was set for us when it comes to hunting humans. Tell me none of you is going on a fucking murder spree!”

Her voice boomed off the high stone walls, almost cracking the colorful windows that adorned the church, pictures displaying passages of the bible and glowing bright red under the moonlight while others shone in blue and green. Though that night, red was truly prominent, and it fell right on her pale face, making everything appear dangerously dark about her.

One of the younger men raised his hand.

“William,” she called.

He stood up, clearing his throat, his hands tangled together in front of his body. He was the shy one, the one she had to pick up because he was starving himself due to his fear of what he had become after he was brutally turned by a woman he thought he could trust. It had been a very dark time back then, early twentieth century, and vampires in the States were still on the loose without a care in the world. There were no rules, only bloodshed, and the covens had body counts higher than the entire population.

“None of us is going on a murder spree,” he said.

“Are you saying that just because I want to hear you say it or do you actually mean what you just said?”

“I, um… you know what, I’m just gonna sit back down.”

“Wise choice.” She nodded. “So, William’s not a killer. What about the rest of you? Anyone trying to start a rebellion?”

Eli shrugged. His answer was obvious, “It’s not me.”

“I figured. You let your dinner stay for breakfast, and you know, you prefer blood whores. Gives you a sense of superiority, which of course, is not how this works. But anyway…”

The group burst out in laughter and Eli glared at her from across the room. “Very mature,” he said.

“I’m just giving you a taste of your own medicine,” she said. “Now, anyone else wanna share?”

Another hand rose in the air. “I’m honestly just knitting,” the woman said. As a demonstration, she lifted the half-finished scarf - they didn’t even wear scarves - and threw the ball of wool in the air. “I tried my hand at a very complicated cardigan, but that project failed, so I’m just going back to my roots.”

“Thank you, Helen, but I never doubted you, not even for a second. You’re a total sweetheart.”

“It also wasn’t me,” Talon spoke up. “But you already knew that.”

“Yes, because you are too stupid to cause such mayhem,” she stated plainly. “That leaves only one…” she let her eyes roam over the pews until she found who she was looking for.

His head hung low. Was he… sleeping?

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake! Can someone please punch Adam in the face?”

Eli stabbed him with his finger. The man shot up, causing the bench to creak. “I’m awake!” he declared.

“Thank you for gracing us with your presence,” she answered sourly. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

Adam looked around. All eyes were on him. He rubbed his very heavy eyes. “I zoned out after you said bloodbath.” At least his confession was honest.

She sighed. She was living with a bunch of idiots. She shouldn’t have suspected them. They weren’t capable of the monstrosities that she saw in the police file.

“Never mind,” she said in exasperation. “You’re all dismissed. Now please, fuck off. I need to be alone so I can fucking shoot myself.”

She wondered how they even managed to make it this far without getting caught.

“Talon.”

“Yes?” he replied.

“I need to get back out there. You’re in charge while I’m gone. Make sure that these idiots don’t kill themselves or each other.”

“Are you sure that is such a good idea? Going out there, I mean? We don’t know what we’re dealing with,” he said.

“No,” she stated after a slight moment of hesitation, “but I’m the only competent one in this house, so I have to step up.”

Her version of stepping up was simple. Scout the docks, stake out if necessary, and confront anything she deemed suspicious enough to risk getting caught. She hoped to run into one of the young vampires, at least, so she could make them answer her – the young ones were never bright, always controlled by hunger and the new intensity of their emotions. The anger was the most brutal one.

It’s like that even for humans – anger blinds, anger poisons, and anger can tear worlds apart and start new generations built on the same ideals. She witnessed anger and greed topple empires that had once been strong and flourished. There is no limit to what anger can make a person do. And vampires, like any other enhanced species, experience most emotions ten times deeper and worse than the ordinary human being.

She felt that effect even after years of being trapped in the same body, in the same state she was left in back then, and especially as she stood on the roof of the warehouse by the docks, overseeing the Hudson and the city that laid on the other side of the shore. She learned how to control and live with her anger. She learned how to survive. Though there were moments when even the highest form of self-control failed and she was stranded with the blade of a hot knife stuck in her sternum, digging further to tear apart her cold, dead heart.

The hunger was the worst part. It had the ability to cloud her mind completely and dictate her every behavior with the purpose to stave that hunger, which was a near-impossibility. There was no satisfying a hunger that had been there for centuries, that not even pints of blood could satisfy. In the years she lived, she learned how to live with it, but always going hungry was also no real way to live. It was awful, constant torture, and with every passing century, she grew more tired of the life she was forced to live.

In the distance, the wood creaked. One of the boats on the harbor displayed movements in its belly. The light only faintly fell on the source of the noise. A figure emerged behind the barrels stocked on the pier, heading straight for the oblivious fisherman who seemed to have stayed around to have a celebratory beer after bringing home quite a large catch of fish. She could smell them across the docks, already tied in bags to take home, but the victor was still inhabiting his boat. Humans have always been particularly obsessed with the art of fishing; it had once been their largest source of food income and fish is still pretty high up on the list of shippable goods. Though there was nothing worse to her nose than the smell of several fish perched together in one place. The stench was astronomical.

A young vampire was far more sensitive, though once hungry, there was nothing but blood on their minds and so none of them would run at the smallest hint of fish in the air, let alone the fear of getting caught. They didn’t have that kind of perception, not yet at least, because this particular behavior was taught. Primal nature dictated them to be monsters and without the proper training, the hunger would control them instead of them gaining control over the real monster – the insatiable thirst. Self-control is one of the hardest traits to gain, but it goes a long way, especially for creatures of the night who were born to be the opposite of compliant and self-aware.

If you want to live amongst an emancipated species, you have to learn how to conform to their rules and compromise, if necessary. You have to be willing to change your true nature to fit in and become something more than what history made of you. All of it comes back down to self-control. Without self-control, there can be no rules and without rules, society is doomed to collapse. Rules are what make a society habitable.

If there was one thing all young vampires had in common it was their lack of stealth. The young boy she had heard lurking behind the barrels across from the fisherman’s boat only checked the corner to his right, his eyes bright red as the moonlight fell on his blacked-out irises.

She cocked her head to the side. Someone trying to preserve themselves would have gone about this much differently. He stopped tip-toeing when he caught her scent in the air, slowly turning in her direction, and the way he looked straight at her reminded her of a frightened deer or a child caught in the act of stealing something. He was stealing, it just wasn’t something so easily explained. What he was stealing and risking went beyond what the human mind was capable of comprehending, let alone the brain of a young vampire that had absolutely no rational thoughts left behind.

He froze dead in his tracks and she sighed, almost like a condescending mother trying to teach her disobedient son a valuable lesson.

“I see what you’re doing,” she stated.

The boy licked his lips, revealing parts of his very sharp fangs. Another thing about the young ones – they didn’t know how to mask. One look at them and your first thought would be a vampire. Red eyes, protruding veins around the sockets, pale, clammy skin, and strength and speed they couldn’t control yet. Stealth was little to non existent, as was their sense of self-preservation and control. They were like unruly babies turning into toddlers overnight, the Devil on their shoulders whispering sweet sins into their ears and causing them to make the worst decisions. Right or wrong didn’t exist in their world. They knew what they wanted and they would try everything to get it, rules be damned.

Even though they all started out like this, not many chose to stay that way anymore. Once you learn how to live by the rules, it’s not that hard, and she grew to love the routine.

Without someone to teach them, young vampires could turn into everyone’s worst nightmare, and then everything she had worked so hard toward for centuries would have been for nothing.

“Fair warning,” she said, “Don’t.”

He bared his teeth.

“Oh, I’m shaking in my boots. Not. What’s your name, kid?”

He looked no day over seventeen, at best. His mother was probably worried sick. Little did she know that her worst fear, her son dying, had come true but in a far worse sense than she could ever imagine. Who he was now had nothing to do with the boy he used to be. The young vampire staring back into her eyes dark and empty had nothing left inside of him but insatiable hunger. His soul was clouded by the demon inside of him and chances were that it would never fully recover from the monstrosities he committed and would still commit.

She couldn’t stop him, she knew that. If she took him with her, whoever was responsible for the sudden spike in bloodless corpses would only create more of him, and take more teenagers from their parents until they got what they wanted. She needed to know what that was so she could stop the war that was looming on the horizon. She couldn’t have an apocalypse, not when her life was going semi-normal for a change. She quite liked New York, she wasn’t done yet.

“Who did this to you?” she asked again.

“Leave,” he growled.

“You see, I can’t do that. I want to, believe me, but I can’t. You’re too young, too inexperienced, so I’m trying to tell you this as easy as possible. What you’re doing right now is breaking all sorts of rules. You’re hunting on our turf,” she said. “My turf. My coven and I live here now. If you continue causing mayhem and destruction and turning innocent people into vampires, you’re breaking a truce that is far older than you, your parents, and great-great grandparents together. There is a set of rules for a reason…”

“You need to leave,” the boy repeated.

She ignored him. “This truce,” she continued, “was put in place over a century ago to assure that vampires and humans can live together in peace. Covens are not supposed to turn innocent people into vampires, let alone leave them without someone to teach them the ropes. A vampire out of control poses a danger to all species and if you continue what you’re doing, your actions will lead to war.” Her eyes narrowed. “Or perhaps that’s what you want. Is that it? Do you want us to be at war again?”

He smirked.

“You weren’t there the last time. It was ugly. That’s why there are rules, right?” She motioned as if explaining the way the world worked to a toddler. “To prevent such unnecessary bloodshed from happening again. To prevent us from killing each other,” she explained. “That’s what those rules are for, okay? Prevention, not causation. You’re supposed to stick to the rules to prevent a war that would destroy more than it would fix, and world domination doesn’t happen just because you say ‘fuck it!’ And shine a dangerous light on all vampires in the process. We’re not all alike. Every coven knows that,” she said. “Whoever made you is only using you to get ahead. In other words, you’re fucked and doomed to get slaughtered in the end. Either by your own kind, a war, or maybe even one of the very ancient vampire hunters that are only waiting for a chance to get back at us.”

Talking to him was futile. He didn’t follow a word she said and even if he had, he wouldn’t have understood. Young vampires were so stupid, naïve, useless and a nuisance. To think they all started out this way grossed her out, even though she made saving the lost causes of the world her life’s work.

Her logic was twisted and more often than not illogical, but she was wise and considered herself above average in intelligence, simply because she had been around for quite a while. She saw empires rise and fall. She stared into the darkest pits of existence and still managed to come back from the abyss. Her life had been a series of doors in her face, which led to several life lessons being taught over the course of centuries. She was no angel, but she wasn’t stupid and she had one job: make sure the truce would remain intact. And she would do just that, even if she had to eliminate that young boy in order to do so.

He didn’t say anything for quite a while. “Get out of my way,” he growled. Of course, he would settle on something as dramatically pathetic as this catchphrase. “I’m starving and I won’t hesitate to hurt you if you keep me from my meal.”

“Ouch,” she cocked an eyebrow, “You really bruise my ego, thinking you can get through me without getting hurt yourself. I’d suggest you think about your actions,” she said, “but I know that I’m practically talking to a wall right now, so thinking isn’t an option. You’re incapable of rational thought.”

Fear was the last thing that came to her mind when he showed off his teeth again.

“Listen, I just want to know who’s behind this. Who’s leading your coven, kid?”

“Fuck you!” he spat.

“Hey now, no need to get vulgar. I asked you a normal question. Who’s behind this and is there a chance I might get to have a conversation with the one in charge? Tell me and I will gladly point you in the direction of a different hunting ground,” she said.

The boy nodded toward the boat. “I want that one. He’s mine. Don’t even try to stop me.”

“Yeah, but you can’t have him.”

“I’m going to have him.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Stop disagreeing with everything I’m saying!”

She shrugged. “Can’t help that you’re wrong all the time. I’ve never learned how to shut up. It’s genetic; centuries of untreated trauma are at fault here, and of course, your general wrongness plays a big part in my need to disagree with your embarrassing hypotheticals.”

“Go to hell!”

“Already did. You know, of course, pride always goes before the fall. Such a human trait to have; multiply it by a thousand, where does that leave you? Certainly not more sophisticated than me, someone with hundreds of years of experience. You need to be careful, young vampires like you are at an even higher risk to be discovered and murdered before you even get the chance to learn what you were given with this transition.”

Finally, he launched at her. She sped away, gone in a matter of a second, and appeared a few feet behind him, heaving a heavy sigh. “You kids are all the same,” she declared, looking into his very distraught eyes. He couldn’t believe she had switched that fast. “Fast but reckless and extremely easy to trick.”

A moment later, he stood in her spot and she was gone again, crossing her arms behind her back.

“You done?” she asked. His attempts to attack her only made her laugh, “Oh, so terrifying.”

She had him right where she wanted him, so agitated that he spiraled out of control, no longer aware of where he was going or what he was doing. She watched him dance for a bit. By now, he surely must have realized he wasn’t going to win. But the pride was stronger and he kept going, trying to get to her in all kinds of ways, though never succeeding.

“I feel bad for you. What would your mother say if she saw you like this?”

He stopped. His left eye twitched. She saw the wheels on his head turning and she thought, finally, I got him.

What did she say? Pride goes before the fall.

She caught the billy club that soared through the air in their direction only a few inches from the boy’s face. Her lips pursed and she stared at the red object, feeling the heavy metal between her fingers and the small ripples in the material.

When she turned her attention back to the target, the boy was gone. He had sped away, using the moment of distraction to run. She couldn’t sense him anywhere; he must have escaped the docks completely, not even staying close to the Hudson. He was on his way home. The fisherman was safe and she had diverted quite the disaster, but she still deemed the interruption rude, including the attempt to impale that poor boy with the billy club. She had thought about it, but she would have never gone through with it. Whoever the weapon belonged to had to have been close by.

Her night just kept getting better and better. That was her assessment, at least, until she heard his heartbeat again. The scent of him brushed the hairs in her nose and she took a whiff, feeling his presence so close in the air, she stopped to let the sensation wash over her. The fire inside of her belly ignited once again, the excitement tickling her cold skin and leaving nothing but lust and hunger to rummage through her veins.

Footsteps thudded against the asphalt, stones crunching under his weight. They were slightly wet from the previous rain, causing a slight slip.

She lowered her hand with the billy club, turning to look over her shoulder at the supposed blind man in a suit. She had seen that get-up before in the papers when he first showed his masked face in Hell’s Kitchen. She never thought much of it since he had never posed a problem before.

The tables had officially turned.

Her lips parted to chuckle. “This is awkward,” she said. In the distance, the waves of the Hudson crashed into the riverbanks. It was colder than usual with a breeze in her hair that caused the water to go wild.

She fiddled with the red billy club, smirking, “Does this belong to you?”

“Who are you?” his voice sounded significantly lower than the night she first met him at that godforsaken gala.

To think she didn’t want to go in the first place; she would have never met him if she hadn’t let Talon convince her that she was supposed to show her face. A political move, he called it, to assert her dominance, which she did, but not in the areas that mattered.

“What are you doing in my city?”

She pouted. “So many questions.”

“Who was that boy you were just talking to? Where did he go?”

“What happened to hello, how are you? What’s your name?” She retorted. “Take a girl out for a drink first, would you? Back then men used to still be gentlemen.”

His chuckle was rather dark, a sound that made her shiver and imagine what it would sound like to reduce him to whimpers instead. The man was a brat, no doubt, not easy to force into submission, but she had cracked worse nuts. Surrendering wasn’t her forte, but she could make it everyone else’s.

“I’m not here to play games,” he told her.

“But I am,” she said.

“What do you want?”

“As far as I can recall, I made that pretty clear when we first met.”

“When we- I don’t know you,” he lied and she realized how bad he was at it for a lawyer.

She licked her lips, the fangs threatening to come out. She was starving. “I quite like an oblivious man. Makes things so much more exciting.”

“Listen, I don’t have time for small talk. There have been several suspicious murders around this part of New York and you’re currently my only connection, so you better talk before I make you.”

“Just out of curiosity,” she said, “what does making me entail?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

He headed straight ahead, determined to grab her, and she watched with an amused crinkle in her eyes. The downward tilt of his lips was truly something to laugh over.

She allowed him to push her against the wall behind them. His force was surprising – those arms didn’t just look scrumptious, they actually carried a lot of strength for a human.

The stranger bared his teeth and she smirked, eyeing his focused expression. He tried to look intimidating but failed miserably. One of his hands braced against the cement beside her head and the other landed around her neck, a threatening motion to assert dominance. They were all so predictable and foolish enough to think that a woman like her couldn’t fight back.

Everywhere she went, she was underestimated. If only everyone knew her true nature, they wouldn’t be so reckless as to push her into corners over and over again. Or in this case, against cement walls on the docks in the middle of the night, right in the middle of her hunting ground with not another human soul close enough to hear him scream. And water is knowingly a great way to dispose of a dead body.

He squeezed tighter and she unclenched her jaw, wriggling out of his grasp in the process. “You’re a kinky bastard, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Answer my question,” he bit back.

“If you answer mine first.”

“This isn’t a game. Lives are at stake here! Listen, I don’t know who you are or what you are,” he said, “but if I find out that you had anything to do with these innocent kids getting slaughtered or know something about this new drug everyone is talking about, I will find you and I will destroy you.”

“You know, if it weren’t for the way you smell, I wouldn’t have recognized you, all confident in your little devil’s costume,” she purred.

Her finger slid up the leather of his suit, brushing over his tensing abs hiding behind the protective gear and she sucked in a sharp breath at the illusion she received.

“All of this tension and I still don’t know your name.”

He caught her hand and pinned it over her head. She squealed. He was full of surprises, and it only turned her on more. She wanted to bite him, really bite him, and suck on his pulse until he was crying her name and praying for God to save him, but the pleasure would only drive him further to hell and God wouldn’t be coming. She wanted him to writhe under her touch, taste him and make him come undone over and over again and once he believed she was done with him, she would start her torture anew, right from the beginning, pushing him from the precipice just far enough so she could catch him, bring him back to the top and then do the same thing in repetition all over again.

He roamed her face aimlessly, as it seemed, but barely visible behind the mask. “How?” he growled.

“Wouldn’t you want to know?” She chuckled. “It’s unfortunate that we had to meet again like this, but…” In an instant, she had them flipped around, her arms pinning him to the wall instead of herself and her strength remained unmatched. He could struggle, it was of no use. She had the upper hand.

Her breath tickled his ear as she spoke, far too close for comfort, “You smell absolutely divine. It’d be a shame to waste all that sweet, sweet blood for a second time,” she said.

He couldn’t move. Sharp nails raked through his hair and over his scalp, tugging his head to the side until his throat was completely bare to her, naked, exposed. His aorta pulsated wildly under his skin. She could see it bulge with every beat of his heart. That strong, masculine heart, stronger than anything she had heard or felt before.

She tasted the sweat on his skin and the salt of threatening tears in the air. If he was turned on or scared, she wasn’t sure. The lines between fear, pain, and pleasure blurred. It was all the same to her, anyway. Getting close to her would most certainly draw everyone under her spell at some point, no matter the sex or gender, and all the heads would continue turning to her whenever her presence entered a room full of lively human beings. Only then her pheromones could work their wonders.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen struggled against her grasp but to no avail. He was powerless, just how she liked him, how she wanted and craved him.

She licked a long stripe over his pulse point. “I want to taste you so badly,” she whispered. “I want nothing more than to dig my teeth into your pretty little throat and suck you dry, and then I want to get on my knees and eat your cum so I can feel it mix with the essence of what your heart has to give, and then you’d be mine. I’d own you. You’d be completely at my mercy, you’d be bound to me and it would feel so fucking good. It would feel so fucking good for the both of us.”

Her fangs began to scratch the surface, enough to make him feel it but not nearly enough to break the skin. She tasted the salt of his sweat even clearer now, wondering how much deeper she had to go to finally reach the source of the sweetness that surrounded him.

“Don’t you want that?” Her hand joined the words slipping from her silver tongue and wrapping around him like a poisonous snake. “Don’t you want to let me corrupt you, to bite you, to eat you until all you can feel is the pure pleasure of having me all over you? My lips, my tongue, my teeth, my body on yours everywhere, all the fucking time… oh, that would be such an orgasmic sight, and the pleasure you’d be feeling, I can’t even describe it. You won’t know until you at least try and believe me, you should. Isn’t that something you want, darling? Doesn’t your body crave to be caressed and receive undivided attention from someone who knows how to make you feel good?”

He sounded small, fragile, and utterly broken when he next spoke, and she hadn’t even started yet. “What are you doing to me?” he asked. The heat of his breath mixed with the cold night air. “What are you?”

She chuckled. “The better question is, what am I not?” The tip of her tongue moved from his neck to his cheek until she reached the corner of his luscious lips. Her nose dug into his cheekbone. “Fuck,” she said. “The things I want to do to you are far from innocent.”

But so fucking good.

Even with fear holding the reins to his body, he melted into her touch. He turned into a puddle of melted chocolate right at her feet. She could have asked anything of him, he would have done so just for the sake of pleasing her. But she wanted him to do it voluntarily not because the smell of her pheromones managed to drive any man into a state of co-dependency.

She wanted him to want her for the sake of wanting her. Like this, she would only compel him to do things he would never choose to do out of his own free will, and while the thought of having him right there on the docks was exciting and had her cunt squeezing around thin air, already wet and wanting, the only treacherous thing about her that was entirely defenseless and could be forced into submission with just a simple flick of the tongue over plump, rosy lips. He had her on the cloud of dangerous euphoria in seconds, already stumbling on the edge and about ready to slip, lose herself, and lose control only to have him, finally, in all the ways she pleased and all the ways that would make him feel good.

She could give him anything he had ever wanted, give him a time that not a single human could give him, and make him come undone inside and outside so many times, he would pass out from the pure pleasure. But he wouldn’t regret it. He would go out this as the winner, fucked out and blissful and perhaps a little addicted to the taste of her as well – she was sure she would be addicted to him as well. She almost already was, just from the scent of his blood and the way his body shivered at the slightest touch. He was so responsive, so human, yet stronger and more unique than anyone else could ever be. He was the one thing she wanted and she was ready to take it as soon as he wanted it, too.

She was used to taking what she wanted however she wanted and screwing the consequences, quite literally, but not with him. With him, the need bubbling up deep inside of her belly was different. It wasn’t just a hunger for blood or a hunger for sex and pleasurable violence, he caused much more than that within her already conflicted soul, and as enticing as that was, the connection confused her. There was a reason she didn’t let anyone close, using sex as a mere pastime activity to get the edge off – she couldn’t toy with him because chances were she would reduce his survival chances to zero.

Allowing a human like him close would only cause pain in the long run, and she’d been through enough of that for several lifetimes. And that wasn’t even an overstatement.

Her lips brushed over his momentarily before she forced herself to pull away, widening the distance between them.

The poor man slumped against the wall, his world rotating. He took it much better than most people, but the sweet taste of his fear in the air reminded her that he was just human, after all. A curious, enticing, and mysterious human, but a human being nonetheless.

Humans serve only one purpose for vampires like animals serve a purpose to humans – predators hunt their victims to feast, sustain themselves and survive. Humans are essentially animals and vampires used to be humans turned into hunters, predators, and dangerous perverts who craved blood to survive while at the same time using it for twisted, sexual purposes that had God locking the gates of heaven to anyone who even dared to fantasize about it. There is no ancestor ready to turn around in their grave because vampires were born from lust and hunger, and the first vampires had been carnal creatures as well, ready to go at it like animals without a single brain cell at their disposal.

Vampires weren’t like that anymore. Sex still played a huge role in their existence, but their main purpose was to fit in. They wanted a peaceful life. Taking everything they wanted was no longer possible, their chances were limited, but at least they didn’t have to fear imminent death anymore. Not ever since the truce was first established, anyway.

If those young vampires continued killing and turning innocent children without mercy, and their coven even supported their decisions, the peace would have been short-lived. She could already see it swindling with every passing second, though fear was not something she wanted to concern herself with, not yet. Her life had more important things to offer before she rang the warning bells on all the vampires she knew, therefore causing a certain commotion that would send the gravestones rolling. Not yet, she decided, but if they kept going at this rate, certainly very soon.

“Go,” she growled into the night. “Do yourself a favor and stay away from the Hudson until further notice. You can never know what blood-thirsty and murderous monsters might lurk in the dark around here,” she said.

He didn’t move.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” he said, his voice remaining steady.

She frowned. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, you don’t scare me. Manipulate me all you want, this isn’t the first time an otherwise scary woman fails to put me under her spell. But,” he smirked, “don’t take it personally. I’m sure you look pretty scary.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, her eyes switching from their natural color to a glossy black. “You have no idea who you’re talking to, do you?”

The red nails adorning her fingers grew sharper and in size. If only he could have regained his eyesight, he surely would have changed his mind. Her skin turned even whiter, the bags under her eyes sinking deep into her skull, replaced instead by thick, purple veins that transported the venom from the core of her existence into them. She was chaos, an abomination, humanity’s biggest threat – not scary was a description she wouldn’t accept.

No matter how blind he was, he had to follow the natural order of things like everyone else. He was supposed to be afraid of her. If he couldn’t find it in himself to show her, all of her games would inevitably lose their fun factor. And her ego would suffer the most.

Open an ancient book about demons and a picture like that might stare back at you.

“It takes a lot more than dark magic to scare the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen,” he told her.

It was cute. Remarkable, really. She laughed at his attempt to make himself feel better, and partly because she was starting to grow upset with him.

“Somehow, being infuriated with you only makes you so much more attractive to me,” she said.

“You still don’t scare me.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Five seconds. The heartbeat of the fisherman rang loudly in her ear. She was starving, her last meal far too long in the past. He wriggled in her grasp, crying, begging for her to let him go, to have mercy on him and, “Oh, God, your face- what happened to your face? Are those- are those fangs? Please, I have a family!”

Her laugh reverberated in her chest. The man stiffened when she tore at his hair to position his head sideways, his neck in perfect reach for her mouth. She looked at the man in the suit before her, his jaw clenched, and he had his billy clubs at the ready. They weren't going to hurt her, he knew that. She would catch them with ease. He could only stand by and pretend he wasn’t scared even though he had never been more in sync with the feeling. They were a package deal when it came to her.

“Don’t worry,” she told the poor fisherman, “You’ll see your family again, and you won’t even have to remember a thing.”

Her mouth opened.

“Don’t,” Daredevil threatened – yes, it was a threat, not even a warning – from the other side of her, and she saw the conflict dance clearly over the revealed lower part of his face. “You don’t have to hurt him,” he said. “The man’s innocent.”

She shrugged. “I know.”

“He has a family.”

“I know. My ears are quite impeccable, can you believe that?”

“How about you think this through before you act? There’s a lot of ways you can go about spiting me, but pulling an innocent bystander into this is not fair. Come on, you said you wanted me, so take me.”

As lucrative as that sounded, she had a different plan.

She hummed, “No.”

“Why? Are you scared? Perhaps you’re not such a bad person after all. Is that it? You want me to be afraid of you, so you’re trying to hurt that man until I cave? Well, I won’t, but I’m offering myself to you instead of him, so don’t try so hard. Just take me. Take your shot.”

Oh, he sounded so amused – time to wipe that smirk off his beautiful face.

“Ancient advice,” she ignored everything else he had said, “Don’t be a martyr,” she said and her lips rained down on the fisherman’s throat in a fiery passion. “History hates martyrs.”

“No, history only consists of martyrs.”

“The official version. The truth lies much deeper than your little human brain could ever explore.”

Daredevil was right about one thing; the man was innocent. No matter how she turned it, there was nothing wrong with him, so death would have been unnecessary punishment.

She wasn’t going to kill him just to spite the man she craved to actually have a taste of. She was just going to take a sip, still a quarter of her hunger and then move on, heal the man’s wounds and make him forget this ever happened. He would be disoriented, but he would be fine.

Humans are the most susceptible to manipulation.

“Don’t be afraid,” she told the fisherman, “I’m just going to have a little taste of the forbidden fruit.”

Her teeth dug into his aorta and she sucked, tasting the blood that squirted into her mouth and all over her face in thick stripes. He tasted nothing like the feast standing right across from her, but it didn’t matter. Her mind shut off. The hunger moved to the forefront and at that moment, everything else stopped existing. It was just her and the life of this particular human in her hands, the taste of his blood exploding on her tongue and her stomach churning with the endless hunger that only got fueled with the small taste. She wanted more, needed it, but she knew better than to let the desperation overpower her.

Passed out and short of a few pints of blood, the fisherman fell to the ground. She licked her lips. He was everywhere, even stuck on her clothes and traces of him had gotten tangled in her hair. He was a bleeder, that much was sure, and if she hadn’t licked over his neck to seal the wound, he surely would have bled out.

Poor thing, but sentiment was useless in a case like this. He would make it. No use crying over a blood bag, she was taught. Humans lived to feed them. It was their purpose and she had no reason to feel bad for wanting to be full for a change, not go to bed hungry because she wouldn’t dare touch someone that wasn’t already in a plastic bag. She deserved this.

And Daredevil cowered in fear at the sounds he was met with. Her night had turned from a total shit show into the sight of victory.

She stepped forward and he flinched away, finally. “You wanted to know what I am. This is it!” she declared. “I’m the monster parents warn their children about and I’m the one thing every church fears because I happen to stand against everything religion stands for.”

“Dear God,” he breathed out.

“God can’t help me now,” she said. Her eyes moved to the sky, watching the stars disappear behind a thick cloud of smog and thousands of lights from the city center. “He stopped doing that the second I died. He’s dead to me now. He cannot be found. There is no God, there is only hunger and I’m probably the most merciful of them all, so I’d run if I were you. I’d run before another one of those demons God gave up on saving, jumps out of the dark and decides to suck the life from your pretty little body. I’d run,” she said, “because there is not a millisecond that goes by in which I do not want to tear your neck open and drink your blood while I also desperately want to suck your dick between my lips and do the same to those veins too, and the longer you stay the more my self-control starts to fade into the thin smoke that comes out of your mouth whenever you speak.”

He shivered and the color faded from his skin, blood pooling in his veins at twice the amount and the smell almost knocked her off her already hazy feet from the first course.

More, her body screamed, but she held back. She learned how to hold back. No one had to die tonight.

“Run now or I’m cutting this short, and then Hell’s Kitchen will no longer have a Daredevil to protect them from the likes of me. They won’t even get the chance to mourn because it’d be impossible for me to drop your body in the Hudson after getting a taste of your blood.”

He turned around, finally getting the hint to run. He jumped the wall up to the rooftop too gracefully for a blind man. She watched, her bloody lips moving into a smile.

“Fear is healthy,” he heard her loud and clear. “Don’t let your pride cloud that healthy feeling from manifesting. And find me,” she said, “when you’re ready to talk without underestimating me.”

By the time she looked back up, Daredevil was gone with the wind, but his scent still lingered long after he had left and she would take it to bed with her where the most unholy of things would happen to the sound of a name she didn’t even know.

She should have fucked him when she had the chance.

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candymothster · 1 month ago

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‎‎ 💋Kinktober 2024🍒‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎

EXTREME NSFW WARNING!! MDNI!!

A/N: I am starting VERY late for this year's kinkober! But here is my 2024 masterlist this year! I can't wait to work on this big writing project! Can ya’ll also figure out what special interest I’m into again?

All fics will be posted on both Tumblr and AO3 with respective links.

Edit: Please let me know if you’d like to be in the taglist!

Buy Me A Kofi❤️️ My AO3 Acc❤️️Masterlist❤️️

Day 1 Breast Worship - Scott Summers X Reader Post|AO3

Day 2 Double Penetration - young!Charles Xavier x Reader x young!Erik Lehnsherr

Day 3 Public Sex - tasm!Peter Parker x Reader

Day 4 Sensory Deprivation - priest!Matt Murdock x Reader

Day 5 Bondage - Eddie Brock x Reader

Day 6 A/B/O Heat/Rut - Logan Howlett x Reader

Day 7 Virgin - Nightcrawler x Reader

Day 8 Cock Warming - Charles Xavier x Reader

Day 9 Praise Kink - Nightcrawler x Reader

Day 10 Overstimulation - Wade Wilson x Reader

Day 11 Knife Play - Logan Howlett x Reader

Day 12 Sex Toys - Remy LeBeau x Reader

Day 13 Aftercare - tasm!Peter Parker x Reader

Day 14 Candle-Wax Play/Temperature Play - Bobby Drake x Reader

Day 15 Glory Hole - Wade Wilson x Reader

Day 16 Cock Worship - Erik Lehnsherr x Reader

Day 17 Dom-Sub - Remy LeBeau x Reader

Day 18 Cock ring/Plugs - Nightcrawler x Reader

Day 19 Mirror Sex/Masturbation - Marc Spector x Reader x Steven Grant

Day 20 Threesome - Logan Howlett x Reader x Scott Summers

Day 21 Monsterfucking - werewolf!Steve Rogers x Reader

Day 22 Thigh Riding/Fucking - Peter Maximoff x Reader

Day 23 Breeding - Hank McCoy x Reader

Day 24 Somnophilla - Erik Lehnsherr x Reader

Day 25 Non Con/Dub Con - Victor Creed x Reader

Day 26 Pegging - Remy LeBeau x Reader was

Day 27 Hate Fucking/Angry Sex - Scott Summers X Reader

Day 28 Impact Play - Wade Wilson x Reader

Day 29 Hunter-Prey - Logan Howlett x Reader

Day 30 Sex Pollen - Peter Maximoff x Reader

Day 31 First Time - Warren Worthington III x Reader

Top Divider By @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Rose Divider by me :)

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bellaxgiornata · 1 month ago

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On Your Knees, Devil

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 6k [Tuna-Tober Masterlist]

Tuna-Tober Prompt: Role Reversal

Warnings/tags: 18+; pure filthy smut, dom!Reader/sub!Devil, smidge of roughness (very slight), fingering, f!oral receiving, cocky Matt and mouthy Devil (they definitely need a warning)

Summary: You've never been one to take control in the bedroom–until tonight, when you're determined to draw out the Devil and make him submit to you.

a/n: I was unhinged the week when I wrote this, and I'll admit, it's a bit different from my usual smut. Enjoy the filth. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

“Oh come on,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Now you're just being cocky.”

Matt smirked at you from his place on the leather couch, sinking deeper back into the cushions as he spread his legs further apart. “I'm just being honest with you, sweetheart,” he replied, casually tossing an arm over the backrest. “You couldn't handle the Devil, and you certainly wouldn't be able to bend him to your will.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you arched a brow at Matt from across the coffee table. You could feel your frustration rising the more he kept dismissing you.

“How would you know?” you questioned. “You've never been with anyone as the Devil before, Matt. Because none of your previous flings ever knew your big secret like I do.”

“Sweetheart,” Matt began, his smirk growing wider, “you're far too soft spoken in the bedroom. Loud in other ways but–and I don't want you to take this wrong–you just…would not be able to handle that side of me. Especially not with you being the one in control.”

“You don’t know that,” you scoffed.

He shot you a pointed look, his head tilting to the side. Your jaw clenched at the sight of it.

“You’ve never been in that role before, sweetheart,” he said. “If you want to play out whatever’s in your head with me, then I’m all for it. But we’re not bringing that side of me into this. Certainly not like that.”

“Why not?” you demanded.

Matt sighed, leaning back into the leather of the couch. “It’s just not that simple. You don’t have any experience and you want to just immediately go straight to controlling the Devil? That’s…a little out of your league, sweetheart.”

Your eyes narrowed back at him, your spine straightening as his words only further increased your determination. Matt was clearly picking up on the subtle shifts in your body, and each one only seemed to grow that arrogant smirk on his face. A smirk you wanted to wipe from his lips with each passing second.

“What’s the harm in letting me try?” you asked, voice darkening.

The corners of Matt’s lips twitched at your tone, clearly catching your growing irritation. “The harm, sweetheart,” he began, his response already grating on your nerves, “is that if you don’t know what you’re doing, this could all go down in a way that we both regret. The Devil isn’t…he’s not just some costume I throw on. He’s–he’s a part of me. A darker part of me.”

“I know, Matt,” you told him. “I’ve been with you for almost a year. I’ve met the Devil. On many occasions and in many different moods. I know exactly who the Devil is and I've always wanted that side of you just as much as this one.”

Over on the couch, Matt expelled a long sigh. “I know we’ve been together for awhile, and yes, you’ve seen that side of me. And I love that you still love me despite that–”

“In spite of it,” you muttered. “I love all of you.”

Matt grinned at your comment before he continued, “But you still don’t have any experience in this area. And I just–just don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to ‘let the Devil out’ as you called it.”

For a moment you stood there, eyeing Matt so casually sprawled out on the leather couch. He couldn’t look any more smug with the way he was practically taking up the whole piece of furniture, his lips still quirked into an arrogant smirk. As you stood there staring at him, an idea gradually began to form in your mind.

“So you won’t just let the Devil out,” you began slowly, studying him closely, “but would you be opposed to me drawing him out myself?”

Matt’s lips twisted into something like a smile before he regained his composure, almost as if he was about to laugh at the idea. A heat flamed within you at the sight, your resolve to tame the Devil only growing by the second.

“And how do you plan to do that?” he asked, amused. “Are you going to rob a bank to lure him out? Mug someone on the street, sweetheart?”

He chuckled at the thought, a deep rumbling sound. The noise had your hands curling into fists where they were crossed over your chest but you fought back your annoyance. You knew he wouldn’t be laughing for long.

“I asked you a question and I expect an answer,” you demanded.

Matt’s amusement quickly subsided at the seriousness in your tone, his own eyes narrowing back at you. A muscle jumped in his cheek before he spoke.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Matt replied. “If you can manage to draw the Devil out, I'll let you. You think you can handle the situation? Then by all means, you can go ahead and try.”

Arching a brow at Matt, you uncrossed your arms, sensually sliding one hand down your body to the waistband of your sleep shorts. Two fingers toyed with the edge of it, your focus on Matt.

“You think I can't?” you challenged back.

Matt's eyes darkened, his unseeing gaze seemingly following the path of your hand as it had traveled down your body. You had his attention now, at least.

“You think that's going to draw out the Devil?” he goaded. “You think that's enough to do it?”

Your hand slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts, your fingers gently running back and forth along your cunt over your panties. Your breath hitched just before you caught the slight flare of Matt's nostrils–exactly what you were looking for.

“I think I know more than you realize,” you told him.

Matt's eyes further narrowed back at you, his arm lowering from the back of the couch as he leaned forward, his smirk gradually shrinking. You definitely had his attention now.

“And just what do you think you know, sweetheart?” he shot back.

Squaring your shoulders, aware of the dampness that had begun to soak through your panties, your fingers continued running along yourself. “I know the scent of me makes you lose your mind,” you stated.

Matt's lip twitched at the corners, his nostrils flaring even more sharply at your words. You were right and he damn well knew it.

“And I know you can hear how wet I'm becoming right now,” you continued. “I can see how it's affecting you. You can’t hide that from me.”

“You're going to need to do a hell of a lot more than that if you want the Devil,” he countered.

Slipping your fingers into your panties, you grinned back at Matt as you ran them between your damp folds. “Oh, I know.”

Judging by the way he was shifting on the couch, his nostrils repeatedly flaring as his hands gripped the cushions, you could tell he was inhaling the scent of you. You'd been with Matt plenty of times to know exactly what your arousal did to him, but there was one thing that had never happened before, one thing you had never done.

Matt had never been denied a taste or a simple touch before. Until now.

“I told you earlier–I want the Devil tonight Matt,” you reminded him. “On his knees and at my feet.”

Matt huffed out a laugh, his gaze briefly flickering to the floor in front of you before it returned to where your fingers were still running back and forth delicately through your damp folds. You knew he could hear the wet sounds they were making and you knew the scent of your arousal in the air was only increasing with every pass of your fingers.

“You're playing a dangerous game, sweetheart,” Matt warned you.

“I know what I'm doing,” you replied.

“Do you?” he asked.

You slid your fingers towards your soaked entrance, your other hand sliding up beneath your shirt. The tips of your fingers barely grazed the underside of your breast and you saw Matt's grip tighten on the couch.

“If you want a taste,” you told him slowly, enunciating each word, “or a touch, Matt, you'll do what you're told. Otherwise you get nothing tonight. You hear me? Nothing.”

Matt’s lip curled back into a partial sneer at your words, his gaze somehow darkening even more at the thought. He clearly didn’t like the idea of you denying him the opportunity to pleasure you, let alone denying him a simple taste–something you’d already guessed he’d be exceptionally unhappy to hear.

“You wouldn’t,” he ground out.

“You can listen to me take care of myself, I’ll let you do that,” you continued, your hand snaking its way up to tweak a nipple as Matt’s lip tugged further back into a snarl. “But when I’m done and I fall asleep in bed afterwards, I know you'll still be awake smelling the scent of me lingering all over the apartment. And while I’m contentedly dreaming, you'll be laying there in bed as the sounds I made–that you love so much–replay over and over in your mind.”

Matt sat stiff on the couch, his elbows now resting along his knees as he leaned forward towards you. His head was cocked even further to the side, his lips still drawn back into a snarl that was bordering on animalistic at your words. His control over the Devil was slipping, that much you could see already. Though it wasn’t Matt that would be your biggest fight, you knew that, but you were certainly thrilled at the sight of him like this. The challenge of bringing the Devil to his knees next was only increasing the dampness pooling between your thighs.

“Really trying to push me over the edge, aren’t you?” he gritted between his teeth.

Slipping two fingers finally into yourself, you loosed a soft sigh at the sensation. On the couch, Matt struggled to contain himself as you slowly pumped your fingers into yourself, your hand on your breast tugging at your nipple. Matt’s knuckles almost turned white as he gripped the cushions tighter.

“Give me the Devil, Matt,” you demanded. “Stop holding back already.”

Visibly teetering on the edge of entirely losing his composure, Matt’s lip began to repeatedly twitch. A deep rumble vibrated in his chest at your words and you knew he was close to losing his control.

“Careful there, sweetheart,” he warned.

Pressing the heel of your hand against your clit, a jolt of pleasure shot through you as you sunk your fingers deeper inside. Matt lurched to the edge of the couch cushion now, his body tensed and ready to pounce. He needed a nudge, just a little one, and then you’d have him.

“Let the Devil out, Matt,” you pressed.

The look on his face in conjunction with what you were already doing to yourself had the quietest little moan slip out of your lips. And that was all it took.

Matt’s demeanor shifted instantly. His eyes darkened to something predatory and dangerous before he launched himself off of the leather couch. An excited thrill shot through your body as he took just three brief strides to close the distance between you. And then he was standing before you, one hand darting out lightning quick before his fingers were tightly gripping you by the chin and tilting your face up towards his.

“You wanted the Devil, sweetheart?” he growled out in that familiar gravely tone. “You got him.”

“I said no touching,” you reminded him, your fingers pausing their movements as you stared back at him.

“Do you think I care about your rules?” he challenged. “Your body is begging for me right now. I can hear it.”

“No, it's not,” you disagreed, shaking your head in his hold. “And I know you'll follow my rules because I know you'd never do anything that I don’t consent to. And right now, I didn't say you could touch me, Devil.”

Frustration and annoyance flashed in his eyes as they focused on your mouth while you spoke. His teeth noticeably ground together, his fingers still gripping your chin. You arched an eyebrow at him, knowing full well no matter the situation, Matt would never pass one of your boundaries–even as the Devil. Another moment passed before the Devil growled in aggravation, his fingers abruptly releasing you before his hand dropped back to his side. A shudder of pride burned in you as he did. He wasn’t on his knees yet, but you were positive you'd get him there.

“Fine,” he spat. “I won’t touch you. But don’t think for a second you’re the one in control here.”

With a pleased grin on your lips, you slid your two fingers out from inside of yourself before removing them from your panties. The Devil’s head snapped down towards your hand, tracking its movement as you held up the two glistening fingers in the space between you both. He was almost immobile now, completely fixated on your fingers.

“Every time we’ve been together,” you began in a hushed tone, reveling in the way he was locked on to your fingers, “you always like to call me yours. ‘My good girl,’” you repeated. “So tonight, I want you to be my good little Devil.”

“Think I’m some pet to tame?” he ground out between his teeth. “Think you can control me?”

“Oh, I know exactly how you operate,” you assured him, watching the way he was still focused on your fingers. You knew the scent of your arousal so close to his face was taking every bit of his willpower to hold back from sucking your digits into his mouth. “Those senses of yours can get overwhelmed, and you’ve never been the most patient. Doesn’t help that I can see how much the scent of me is affecting you. You want a taste don’t you, Devil?”

A low growl reverberated through his chest in response. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as his gaze never wavered. Satisfied at his answer, you drew the fingers up to your mouth and slipped them inside, your tongue lapping over them instead of his. You grinned when another deep, irritated rumble vibrated in his chest. You knew you were beginning to do more than frustrate him now.

Slowly you slid the fingers back out of your mouth, enjoying the irritation evident on his face. His body was tense with his restraint, struggling to resist the urge to just tear your clothing off and have you. The thought that he knew he couldn't was incredibly exhilarating.

“Think you can keep teasing and taunting me without any consequences?” he questioned sharply. “You're pushing me, sweetheart.”

“Mmm, I think,” you hummed out as you turned towards the bedroom, “that you're all bark and no bite. You've got absolutely nothing to use against me tonight because there's only one thing I want.”

You gradually began to make your way to the bedroom, grinning when you heard his soft footsteps following after you. He was honed in on you now, his attention fixed. You just had to outlast his stubbornness and you'd have him.

“You really think you've got the upper hand here,” he asked, voice dark and low.

Pausing halfway to the bed, you glanced over your shoulder and saw him stop directly in the doorway. His expression was almost pained beneath his scowl.

“Well you're already following me like a dog,” you teasingly pointed out. “Leaves me to wonder what you think you could possibly tempt me with?”

The Devil's face darkened at your question, a devious smirk curling his lips upwards. “I can give you an entire evening of pleasure like you've never experienced before, sweetheart,” he promised. “Stop this little game now and I'll push your body past its limits until you can hardly feel it anymore. I can make you forget your own name for a few hours. You know I can.”

Walking the rest of the way to the bed, you felt a rush of warmth flood you at his words. You'd never slept with Matt when he was like this before, but you'd always been tempted. You were curious to know what the Devil would be like in the bedroom after all the times you'd seen him come home worked up from patrol, but despite how enticing his offer was, it still wasn’t what you wanted.

“The only thing I want,” you repeated carefully as you sat down on the end of the bed and faced him, “is you right here on your knees doing what I tell you to. And I know you can hear the truth in my words.”

You pointed at the ground in front of your feet, accentuating what you'd said. Another flash of frustration shone back at you in his eyes as his smirk entirely disappeared. His jaw tightened once more, determination to fight you still written across his face. Despite his rigid posture and the way he remained in the doorway, you noticed how he'd gone temporarily quiet. The knowledge that he had no leverage, no way to tease you and distract you, had him closer to breaking. You could feel it.

“Still need more encouragement?” you asked coyly.

Hands grabbing onto both your shorts and your underwear, you gradually pushed them down your legs before tossing them carelessly off to the side of the bed. The Devil’s hands began to clench and unclench at his sides but he didn't move from his place in the threshold. With your lower half now exposed, the unobstructed scent of your arousal was likely driving him mad. Lightly resting your hand along your stomach, the tips of your fingers just barely brushed the sensitive bundle of nerves as you settled in to give him the last few pushes over the edge.

“You have two options, Devil,” you told him, watching his nostrils sharply flaring back at you. “You can stand there and keep fighting me and I'll happily get off on my own just watching you. Or you can tell me that you'll be my good little Devil and I'll let you help me.”

A dangerous snarl tore out of his chest at your second option. The sound sent a delicious wave of arousal through your body, your skin practically humming in response. But he still didn't answer, continuing to remain silent. His lack of response had you grinning, especially when you caught the bulge now poking through his gray sweatpants.

“That your choice then?” you asked.

Fingers moving down a fraction, you began to gently draw circles over your clit. A soft, pleased sigh slipped out of your lips as you lowered back onto the bed, resting on one elbow. Eyes falling shut, you focused on pleasuring yourself, enjoying the fact that he was still standing in the doorway focused on you while you did.

“You're not going to get off right in front of me,” he snapped.

You opened your eyes, attention returning to him by the door. He'd taken a single step into the bedroom now, that pained expression becoming further visible on his face. That one step said more than he realized.

“I'll finish without you,” you warned him with a sly grin. “Show you how little I need you.”

Back arching along the bed, you caught the second step he took towards you as a feral snarl tore through the bedroom. Your finger began to move a little quicker as you added a bit more pressure along your clit, your breath coming in sharper.

“I'm not going to make this easy for you,” he growled.

Laughing lightly, your eyes fell shut once more as a shudder raced up your spine. It was an empty threat and you both knew it.

“Not a damn thing you can do, Devil,” you told him, breath coming in quick pants as another surge of pleasure raced through you. “You're not allowed to touch. Not until you–”

Your sentence broke off on a soft moan, the noise loud in the otherwise silent bedroom. With your eyes still closed, you could almost feel his senses raking over you, taking in the racing of your heart, the scent of your arousal, the blood rushing through your body, the flush in your cheeks.

“Not until you agree to be my good little Devil,” you finished, eyelids fluttering back open.

He’d taken another step closer now, standing barely two feet away from you. His jaw was tensed, his teeth grinding back and forth as the muscle repeatedly jumped in his cheek. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, his shoulders drawn up to his neck. You could hear his sharp breaths each time his nostrils flared now. Biting your lip, you tilted your head to the side as you once more slid your fingers through your damp folds, teasing your entrance. The sensation had your eyes almost closing, but you fought to keep them open, watching as he almost took another step closer.

“Last chance, Devil,” you told him. “Come here or I'll finish without you.”

A dark, almost guttural growl tore straight out of his chest in sheer frustration. Removing your hand from yourself, you sat up on the edge of the bed. His unseeing gaze once more snapped directly down towards your damp fingers, his tongue yet again darting out along his lips hungrily.

“Come here, Devil,” you ordered.

An almost imperceptible whine slipped out of his lips before he grudgingly closed the remaining distance between you both. You smiled at the sight, realizing he was on the cusp of submitting–even if reluctantly. Leaning closer towards him, you reached your hand up to his face. His sightless eyes managed to track the movement almost perfectly until you’d gripped him by the chin, your fingers intentionally near his mouth but not remotely touching it. A rough grunt fell out of him at your touch, his eyes narrowing back at you.

“You’re going to regret this later,” he warned. “I can promise you that, sweetheart.”

“We’ll see about that, Devil,” you murmured, still holding his chin. “But for now, you need to do what you’re told.”

His lip twitched in response, his eyes glaring darkly at you. Biting your lip, you gave a little tug downwards on his chin.

“On your knees, Devil,” you ordered.

A deep, rumbling snarl slipped out of his lips at your order and the way you’d tugged his chin, but you held your ground as you sat on the edge of the bed. Seconds passed as he stood there towering over you, a fire burning in his eyes that was a mix of desire, need, and sheer agitation. But then gradually, ever so slowly, you saw him finally and reluctantly sink down to his knees before you, his lips still curled back into a frustrated sneer. A slow, triumphant smile spread across your mouth as you continued to hold his chin firmly between your wet fingers.

“Are you going to be my good little Devil?” you asked.

“Enjoy this moment while you can,” he growled up at you. “Because it’s never happening again, sweetheart. I’ll have you on your knees–”

“Are you going to be my good little Devil?” you questioned more firmly, cutting him off mid sentence.

An irate growl rumbled in his throat. “Is it necessary to call me that?”

“Answer the question,” you ordered.

His eyes narrowed further back at you, his hands slowly coming up to rest along the bed on either side of your hips. A shudder ran through you as he gripped the mattress tight, your cunt clenching around air at the sight of him like this before you. His attention immediately snapped down to the space between your thighs, an almost choked noise getting caught in his throat.

“Yes,” he ground out.

Releasing his chin, you slowly set both of your legs over his shoulders before leaning back and resting your elbows along the bed. You stared down at him, comfortable on the bed as he sat gnawing on his bottom lip just before you, his sightless eyes staring longingly at one part of your body in particular.

“That’s my good little Devil,” you praised.

A sharp grunt met your words and you grinned. He might’ve been irritated, but he was technically still obeying.

“Do you want to get me off?” you asked him. “Is that what you want?”

“I want to make you feel so good you can’t do anything but scream,” he snarled back. “Want to hear that pretty little mouth crying up there. Show you how much you do need me, sweetheart.”

“Watch yourself, Devil,” you warned. “You’re getting a little too feisty down there.”

“What did you expect?” he snapped. “This is the closest thing you’re going to get to what you want with me. You can’t tame me. Can’t control me.”

Your eyes narrowed at his challenge. “Yeah? Take one taste, Devil. Go on.”

With his hands gripping the bed tighter on either side of your hips, he leaned in and swiped the flat of his tongue entirely up the length of you, as if trying to taste as much of you as he could. Your eyes snapped shut the second he’d touched you, the sound of his throaty groan cutting straight through the bedroom. Opening your eyes a second later, you saw his own eyes had closed, his face contorted into a mix of pleasure and pain before he released a long, low growl.

“You want more?” you whispered down to him.

His eyes snapped open at your voice, their focus finding your chin. He blinked a few times, his expression wavering between bliss and frustration.

“Yes,” he ground out.

“You’re going to be my good little Devil then, do you understand?” you asked.

“Yes,” he grunted.

“That’s a good little Devil,” you replied. “Fingers first. Prove you can behave, then maybe I’ll let you use your mouth.”

A frustrated noise rumbled in his chest in response, but he didn’t argue back this time. Instead, one of his hands released his tight grip along the bed before he lifted it over your leg and left it hovering in front of your soaked entrance. His lips twitched again before his tongue slipped out, gliding along the length of his bottom lip. A jolt of excitement raced through you at the sight, anticipation of what was about to happen taking hold of you as you held your breath, awaiting his touch.

Two of his thick fingers finally began to slide back and forth delicately along your entrance, teasing you just a little as your arousal gathered along his fingertips. Then slowly he slid them up through your folds towards your clit with a faint groan of pleasure. With the slightest pressure, he began lightly tracing the exact patterns to immediately cause your hips to squirm along the bed. A satisfied rumble met your ears as your eyes fell shut and your breath came in faster.

His other hand released the bed, grabbing the thigh resting along his shoulder in a tight vice as he yanked you further towards him. A surprised gasp flew out of you as you slid forward on the bed, your eyes reopening at the movement. You’d been about to chastise him for what he’d just done, but the sight of the devilish grin on his lips had your mouth momentarily going dry. As much as you wanted to appear confident in this situation, you couldn’t deny that the Devil was certainly a challenge, even if he was mostly obeying you now.

After a moment, his fingers traveled back down towards your entrance, the sensitive bundle of nerves above still desperate for his attention. But instead he slipped a single digit inside of you, sinking it in as far as it could go. Your breath hitched in response, your hips raising just a fraction off of the bed. The Devil immediately pushed you back down with the hand gripping your thigh, holding you still on the mattress.

“I want more,” he growled.

His eyes darted up to you as his finger began to pump in and out of you, the wet squelch with each thrust loud even to you. Your heart was hammering in your chest, your body begging to reach your climax after everything that had been leading up to this moment.

“And I can tell you do, too,” he said. “Don’t deny it.”

“Bit–bit mouthy for one who’s supposed to be behaving,” you stammered out, the continued waves of pleasure causing your mind to cloud.

“I want a taste,” he shot back, his finger pumping a bit more roughly into you as he said it. “I’m doing what you want, sweetheart. Now give me what I want.”

Your eyelids fluttered as he stuck a second finger inside, his pace moving agonizingly slow on purpose. Struggling to focus, you tried to formulate a coherent thought, but it was difficult to do with his hot breath washing over you as he worked.

“That sounded more like a command, Devil,” you replied, trying your best to stay focused. “Try that again.”

A frustrated rumble sounded in the room, mixing with the wet sounds of his fingers fucking you. Your breath was coming in shallower now, your body getting closer and closer to your climax. You knew he could tell, and you knew he’d do what you wanted before you came. Because you knew he’d want his mouth on you when you did.

His eyes closed as his head snapped to the side. A look of distaste crossed his features before he spoke. “Let me use my mouth…please.”

Your cunt tightened around his fingers when you heard the Devil actually beg you. The power you felt at that one word alone almost had you toppling over the edge, but you fisted the sheets in your hands and tried to hold on a bit longer.

“That’s–that’s my good little Devil,” you breathed out. “You ask, you don’t–don’t demand.”

The sound of his irritated growl broke on a whine this time and your eyes darted straight to him. His fingers were still sinking into you repeatedly, but it seemed as if his composure was breaking the wetter you were becoming.

“Please,” he ground out. “Let me get you there. The way I know your body is begging for it.”

Your breath hitched at his unexpected and sincere plea, but you found yourself wanting a little more. “Ask again,” you demanded, trying to keep your voice even.

“Let me taste you,” he began, his usually husky, dark tone laced with growing desperation. “Please, let me–let me take care of you how I know you need it. Please.”

Struggling to keep your orgasm from crashing into you, you nodded quickly. “Yes, use–use your mouth,” you whispered back.

The Devil didn’t even wait for you to finish your sentence before his face had lunged forward, his plush lips sucking your sensitive clit right into his mouth. The sensation had a sharp cry flying out of you, your head falling back over your shoulders. He began frantically sucking on your clit, his teeth lightly grazing it at one point. The sensation caused you to hiss in pleasure, your hips fighting against his hold on you. But as his fingers inside of you never ceased their movements, relentlessly fucking into you over and over, his other hand had slid up your thigh and over your stomach. His thick, single muscular arm was holding you firm to the mattress as he brought you even closer to the brink.

Your body felt like it was on fire with sheer pleasure, your back fighting his hold to arch along the mattress as your eyes had begun to roll back. You were close, so incredibly close. And that’s when you caught the sound of his hungry, vexed growls against your clit turning into high-pitched whines. Struggling to keep your focus, your breath repeatedly catching in your throat as you fisted the bed sheets tighter in your holder, you glanced down at the Devil. From your angle you couldn’t see much, but it almost looked as if he was struggling from rutting against the bed. The sight had a curse slipping out of your lips at just how desperate and aroused he was himself.

“Doing–alright–down there?” you panted out.

You were growing dizzy at the sensations his tongue and his fingers were giving you, your entire body feeling like it was vibrating. The Devil only responded with something like a choked moan, the sound muffled against you as he continued to diligently and determinedly get you off. That needy, desperate sound coming from the Devil–the same one criminals feared in Hell’s Kitchen’s streets–as he fought the urge to rut against the bed just from the taste of you, from the sounds your body was making in his ears, had you immediately hitting your peak.

One hand releasing the bed sheets, you reached out and gripped his forearm so tight your nails dug into his skin. He hissed against you just as your head fell limp over your shoulders, your eyes closing as your mouth went slack. A long, low moan gradually tore out of you just as you reached your climax. You felt the Devil slip his fingers out, instead using those against your clit as he worked you through your release. His mouth had latched onto your cunt, lapping at your release like a starved man. The bedroom around you filled with his strangled moans of pleasure and the wet, hungry licks of his tongue against you.

Body suddenly heavy, you sunk down into the mattress, your eyes blinking blankly up at the ceiling. Below you, the Devil’s movements had gradually begun to take an obvious shift. You felt soft, gentle laps at your entrance before his wet mouth was gently kissing and nuzzling at your inner thighs. Struggling to sit upright on the bed, you glanced down to see Matt’s half-lidded eyes as he continued nuzzling against your leg. Reaching a hand out, you gently began to card your fingers through his hair as you tried to catch your breath.

“Matty? You good?” you asked.

“Mmm,” he hummed out, planting another kiss against your skin. “Yes. You–you taste so good.”

You smiled softly down at him, your hand coming to lightly tap the arm he still had resting along your stomach. “Hey, come up here,” you whispered.

He gently kissed your thigh once more before he sluggishly rose to his feet. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the damp patch soaking the front of his sweatpants, your eyebrows rising.

“Matty, did you…?”

Sinking into the mattress beside you, Matt wrapped his arms around your waist and drew you towards himself with a huff. He buried his face into your shoulder, his eyes closing.

“I…guess I underestimated you,” he murmured into your skin. “That was–” he paused, teeth lightly nipping your shoulder. “I like you like that.”

“Oh you do, do you?” you teased back.

“Mhmm,” he hummed.

You grinned, resting your cheek against the top of his head as you tried to catch your breath. “We should probably get cleaned up, though,” you whispered.

Matt burrowed closer to your neck, releasing a soft sigh. “Mmm, in a minute, sweetheart,” he replied. “Let me just–just recover first.”

You laughed lightly, one hand gently resting along his thigh that was nestled beside your bare one. “Alright, my good little Devil,” you teased.

Matt’s lips pulled into a smile against your shoulder at the praise, a soft, contented hum vibrating in his throat. You had a feeling that after tonight he wouldn’t fight you so much the next time you asked for the Devil.

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @millennial-birkin @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1 @scriptedmoon @lucienofthelakes @sarahskywalker-amidala @flowher @loves0phelia @a-half-empty-g1rl @zomtart @justvalkyrie @steve-chandler

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #daredevil #Tuna-Tober 2024

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firesunflamed · 1 year ago

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give it to me

relationship: Frank Castle x Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: You come home after a terrible, frustrating day at work. Luckily, Matt and Frank give you exactly what you need

warnings: NSFW, porn without plot, no use of y/n, established relationship, pet names used for reader: sweetheart, good girl, good little slut, brat!reader, sex toys, oral (m and f receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, light bondage, light dom/sub, objectification kink, light praise kink, some aftercare, cum-eating. You and Frank are kind of mean to each other but some of it's consensual and you apologize for what's not.

word count: 4.8k

a/n: happy national genocide day to everyone who's forced to deal with their shitty family today. i hope this helps you decompress lmao.

read it on ao3

Your day had been shit, and when you walked into the door of the apartment you shared with your partners, you wanted nothing more than to relax, to forget your day and let the weekend sweep away your stress.

“Sweetheart?” Frank called as you entered, and you toed off your shoes next to Matt’s before walking deeper into the apartment.

“Hey,” you called, and your voice sounded exhausted even to you.

“Dinner’ll be ready in an hour or so,” he said as you walked into the living space. “Go ahead and get changed, yeah?”

You nodded, even though he was facing away from you, and went to drop your work bag on the kitchen table when you found it covered in guns.

You knew about their work, loved them for how they kept the city safe as possible at their own expense. You knew that cleaning and fixing his firearms was part of that work. But you’d made it a policy that all weaponry had to be cleared from the kitchen table by the time you got home from work, thanks to one night a year ago when you’d gotten home and almost immediately sat down to dinner, only to pick up your napkin from the table and find gunpowder on it.

Frank was typically good at remembering. Still, seeing this now, after your already shitty day, turned frustration to anger. You meant to tell him, kindly, to please clean off the table before you sat down to dinner. Instead, what came out of your mouth was, “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Frank put something in the oven then turned around to face you, face only just betraying his surprise. “What?”

You gestured angrily at the mess on the table. “What’s my rule? What’s my one fucking rule?”

“Yeah, I know, I was gonna clear it off once I got food in the oven. Got started a little late, and the lasagna takes an hour.”

“Dinner’s not even for another hour? Great!” you said rudely, already so hungry. “What were you even doing all day?” Frank didn’t work, not in the same sense as you and Matt. Though you’d never discussed it formally, he typically took care of most of the household tasks, and you were so grateful that it didn’t all fall to you. Now, though, you were pissed.

“Lost track of time,” he said, slowly, looking at you in confusion. “What, you want a snack?”

And you knew it was an apology, and a genuine offer. Still, all you heard in his voice was the condescension you’d just been subject to at work.

“Oh fuck off,” you snapped. “I’m not a child.”

He held up his hands in defense. “Never said you were, sweetheart.” He moved a step closer. “You alright?”

“Fine.” You turned to go to the bedroom to change, but Matt walked out at the same time, already out of his work clothes.

He walked closer to you, stopping a few feet away, head tilting. You knew he’d heard everything you’d just said, knew he’d clocked your mood just as well as Frank. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Yeah?” he said, moving close enough to touch. His eyebrows were knit, mouth slightly open, and you knew he was trying to use every sign your body was giving to figure out what was wrong. “How was work?”

You didn’t want to think about work. You didn’t want to think.

“Fuck off,” you said, trying to find a way around him, but he reached out and grasped your upper arms, stopping you.

“I don’t think you want that,” he said, voice as gentle as his grasp.

You set your jaw, looked up at him. You could only imagine your expression was what Frank had once joked could scare off the people he and Matt went after before they got close enough to land a hit. You had the same rage under your skin as they did, just didn’t have the training or pain tolerance necessary to be a vigilante alongside them. It was part of what made your relationship work.

Matt stepped closer when you didn’t push him away, until your bodies brushed. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he said. “Tell me you don’t want this. We can go to the gym, and you can hit something until you feel better. Hit me, if you want.”

You stayed silent, still watching him, the soft hazel of his eyes, the pretty red of his lips. He reached up to cradle your cheek in his hand, thumb brushing across your lips. Then he leaned in, close enough to kiss. “Color?”

“Green,” you said, all certainty, and pulled him in. Your lips moved together as you pushed your body flush against his.

He tried to reach out to unzip your dress, but you were impatient, pushing down his sweatpants and his boxers, then pushing him to sit on the couch behind you both. You straddled him, pushing up the skirt of your dress as you did, grinding against his half-hard cock.

“Sweetheart,” he said against your mouth, breaths already coming fast. “How do you want this, tonight?”

“I don’t want to think anymore,” you said, trying to keep that anger in the face of the pleasure that shot through you at his touch. “Make it so I can’t think anymore.”

“Fuck,” Frank muttered from somewhere behind you, and you were only just aware of him moving to lean against the table and watch you both.

Matt agreed with him, groaning. “Okay,” Matt said. “Alright. I have to take off your underwear. Lean back on the couch.”

You didn’t want to, didn’t want to lose the skin contact, the feeling of his now fully-erect cock against your cunt. “Make me,” you said, and he grabbed your hips and half-pushed, half-lifted you so you lay on your back on the couch, him looming above you. He pulled off your panties, tipped you on your side to unzip and pull off your dress, then rid himself of his clothes before bracing one arm on the armrest behind you, another on the back of the couch, and positioning the head of his cock at your entrance.

He pushed it against you a few times, wanting to make sure you were wet enough. You hadn’t taken so much as a finger inside of you yet, and you knew that he didn’t want to hurt you. Not like this. Not without you asking for it. “Sweetheart, is it-”

“What are you waiting for?” you snapped. “Hurry up and fuck me.” The position made it hard, but you wrapped your legs around his waist, used them as leverage to bring him closer.

“Okay, okay,” he gasped, then sunk in with a groan, face going loose in pleasure. Typically, seeing how good you made him feel would’ve gotten you halfway to orgasm, but now it wasn’t enough, wasn’t near enough. You moved your hips against him, taking him in until he filled you.

Your mind went blessedly blank for a moment, but it didn’t last nearly long enough. You began moving against him again, angling your hips so his cock brushed along your g-spot with every thrust.

The feeling forced a low oh out of you, and Matt murmured, “you sound so pretty, sweetheart. Love hearing how good I make you feel.” But it was nice, and good, and not at all what you wanted. You wrapped your hands around his biceps, feeling the corded muscle there, and sped up your pace.

“Hey,” Frank said, and you looked around Matt’s lithe frame to see him watching you. The only indication that he was affected by the scene before him was the erection prominent against his jeans. “Don’t be a brat. You’ll take what you’re given.”

“I wouldn’t have to be a brat if Matt fucked me properly,” you said, and Matt seemed to remember himself and your request at both your words, picking up his pace, with deep, harsh thrusts, grunting with each movement. You moaned and moved your hands from his biceps, no longer needing the leverage it gave you, and dug your nails into his powerful back muscles. It chased the thoughts to the back of your head only temporarily, and then they came creeping back in, telling you that you were useless, powerless, not even capable of taking charge in the bedroom, much less a boardroom.

You used the leverage of your legs to try to bring Matt down, try to flip him onto his back. He let you move him so you were on top, let you brace your hands against his shoulders and ride him with abandon. “Guess I have to take care of everything myself,” you said. You grabbed one of Matt’s hands and put it on your clit. “Get me off,” you ordered, and he began playing with it, knowing in the way he always did that this was what you needed. You rarely took the reins in the bedroom, but he admitted once that he loved when you did. Obediently, he played with your clit, finding the rhythm that had you moaning, and you fucked yourself on his cock like it was a toy until you felt your orgasm cresting. “Fill- me-“ you gasped, and came with a low noise. He kept up the movements of his hips and his fingers through your aftershocks, spilling within you with a pretty moan.

You rested against him for a moment, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of completeness as you both caught your breath.

Then arms reached for you, dragging you off of him. “You’re too nice to her, Red,” Frank said as he threw you over his shoulder and walked you to the bedroom. “Good sluts need to be ordered around, yeah?”

Typically, you would’ve said yes in an instant, would’ve let him take charge. You liked being the one to control Matt every now and then, but that was easy, with how pretty he was, the way he so rarely let his rage loose with you. Frank was different. Outside of the bedroom, he would never try to control you, rarely even raised his voice. It was only when you were naked beneath him that he let the need to possess, to claim, run loose.

But now, you were still tired from the day and overstimulated from how hard you had just fucked Matt. “Wait, Frank…”

He dropped you roughly on the bed. “If you’re talking, you’re thinking, yeah? Said you didn’t want that.” He unbuttoned his pants, pushing them off, and you moved up to your elbows to watch his erection spring free, head already pink and tip weeping. You felt that telltale dip of attraction in your stomach. Still, you couldn’t let go of control that easily.

“I don’t see how you think you’re gonna be able to fuck me any better than Matt,” you snipped, and he pulled back from where he had begun to crawl on the bed. “We both know he’s better than you.”

His expression turned hard, and when he spoke next it was low, angry. You had him right where you wanted him. “Get up,” he said, and you pushed yourself off the bed to stand next to him. He pointed at his feet. “Get on your knees.”

“No.”

He let lose an angry breath. “Come home, giving me shit. Ask for us to fuck you, still giving me shit. You need a fucking attitude adjustment.”

“I need another orgasm. Sucking you off isn’t going to do it.”

“You get what I’m giving you. You want to come again, stop misbehaving.” He spun you around by the hips, wrapped an arm around your waist then kicked your legs out from beneath you. He set you on your knees, and you steadied yourself on the edge of the bed. He moved to sit down on the bed and buried a hand in your hair before moving your mouth closer to the tip, pushing it against your lips and then inside.

You did your best to glare at him through the stretch of it, through the way his eyes went half-closed in pleasure, through his grunts. It was hard to stay mad when you had to focus on relaxing your jaw, on breathing around the thick length of him. It was even harder staying mad, knowing that you were making him feel this good. Feeling your own body react to being used like this, a tool for his pleasure.

Still, after a minute or so you pulled back, sucking and licking just on the head of his cock before letting him go altogether. His eyes snapped back open, and he glared at you. “What’re you doin’?” he said. “Didn’ say you were done.”

You began to stand. “I said I’m done.”

He pushed you back down by your shoulders. “Red,” he said, and you turned, realized that Matt must’ve stepped into the bedroom while you’d been going down on Frank. He now sat, still naked, on the extra chair in the corner of the room. “Grab me the ties. Guess she needs some extra encouragement to do as she’s told tonight.”

You watched from your knees as Matt smiled, then walked over to the top drawer of your dresser and pulled out the silk ties. “And grab me the vibrator, too,” Frank said. “The pink one.”

Matt threw an unimpressed look over his shoulder. “Which one?”

“C’mon. You know. The one for her clit that she likes.”

Your breath caught as you realized what Frank was planning, and Matt chuckled. “Oh, she liked that,” Matt said, and walked over to you. He set the vibrator on the bed then knelt, tying your wrists together behind you. You glanced between the vibrator and Frank’s cock. You didn’t use toys often but kept a small handful for when life got in the way, and for moments like this. The one Matt had grabbed was your favorite, capable of making you come in ninety seconds flat.

Matt grabbed the vibrator off the bed, and you spread your legs a bit to let him position it at your clit. You closed your legs again to keep it in place. He kept a finger on the bottom button to power it on, and you tensed, ready for the vibrations. “Frank’s going to fuck your mouth the way he wants,” Matt said, that velvet tone so different from Frank’s rough timbre, and you found yourself nodding in agreement before you’d even processed his words. “And you’re going to come, just like you want.” He dropped his other hand to your bound ones, tapped once against your skin. Green?

“Fuck you,” you said, trying desperately to keep that anger when the only thought in your head was how good they were about to make you feel. Matt put his hand against your fingers and you tapped once, clearly. Green.

He turned on the toy, and a moan ripped out from you before Frank pushed his cock into your mouth, fucking into it so fast and so deep that you couldn’t keep up, drool spilling from your lips. You moaned at the endless sensation against your clit, against the feeling of being used by him, and then he pushed far enough into your throat that you lost your air supply and your thoughts with it. You came so hard your vision whited out, your body going loose against him.

Frank slowed his pace, but the toy didn’t stop. “This what you wanted, sweetheart?” Frank said, half a grunt. “My cock in your mouth. Coming all over yourself.” You whimpered around him. It was too much. You never wanted it to stop. “Yeah. You’re a good little slut. ‘Course you want it.”

Frank pulled your mouth off his cock, but you quickly came again from the vibrations and his words. The world had gone soft around the edges, just as you wanted it. “Fran’… Ma’…” you slurred, not quite able to make the consonants. “Feel so goo’…”

You felt a hand between your legs, then a second later the toy turned off and was pulled away from you. “Wai…”

A pair of hands grabbed your upper arms and pulled you up, and you were too far gone to stop the moan that came as you rubbed your thighs together, feeling your slick and Matt’s cum coating them. You were pulled onto the bed, and moved around like a doll until you were on your back, hands unbound, muscles too weak to move.

Then, a form covered your own, a large hand grabbed your jaw, and you opened your eyes hazily to find Frank staring down at you. “Gonna come inside you now. S’what you want, yeah?”

You tried at a yes, and he pushed inside you with the same force he’d just taken your mouth. You were already so overstimulated, but he kept his hands off your clit, instead thrusting inside you desperately. You realized that he hadn’t come yet. “Fran’- please- inside me-” you begged. “Wan’ your cum. Please.”

He managed a few more thrusts before he moaned, his seed spilling inside of you. You closed your eyes and hummed in delight at the feeling. He collapsed half on you, not pulling out as he started to soften.

“Frank.” Matt’s voice came, and you looked up to see him kneeling beside you, a hand on Frank’s shoulder. “Let me taste her. Please.”

Frank nodded against you, then pulled away. Matt took his place, broad shoulders holding your legs apart. His hot breath brushed over the sensitive skin of your upper thighs. “You smell so good, sweetheart. Smell like him, like me. Love how you trust us to use you like this.”

“Ma’-“ you gasped, tried rutting your hips, but he moved his arm to hold them down, the pressure only increasing your arousal. “Please.”

“You’re insatiable,” he murmured, moving from your upper thighs to your cunt, lips brushing against your skin. “How many times do we have to get you off before you’re satisfied?”

That cut through the haze enough to reignite the anger. “Until I say so,” you snapped, and buried your hands in his hair to move him closer to your pussy.

He laughed, the feeling shooting through you, and then began to lap at the cum spilling from you. You moaned, eyes falling shut, and let him taste you as he wanted. You knew Matt loved this, would go down on both you and Frank without either of you even asking for it. It was one of his favorite things to do when you and Frank started a movie or a TV show marathon, seeing how long he could go down on you without making you come, or seeing how many times he could get Frank off in a short amount of time. You could never say no to him, not for this.

His tongue pushed inside you, the feeling and the obscene sounds that came with it enough to bring you close to another orgasm. His tongue slid out, and then he wrapped his lips around your opening and sucked, your back arching off the bed at the sudden, unfamiliar sensation. It took you a second to realize that he was sucking both of their cum out of you, tasting the three of you together. Based on the way he was grinding against the mattress, he must like it.

Matt went back to lapping at your cunt, and your body dropped with him, panting. A hand suddenly cupped your breast, rolling your nipple between two fingers. You opened your eyes to find Frank sitting next to you, hungrily watching the bud darken with his touch. “Fran’-k” you managed.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Feel goo’,” you sighed, eyes slipping closed.

You could hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, yeah I know. There’s my good girl. Just needed my cock, and she calmed right down, huh?”

That was a challenge if you’d ever heard one. You opened your eyes again, pushed Matt’s face deeper in your cunt, taking control again. “Like hell it was. You’re lucky Matt’s so good with his mouth.”

For the first time since he’d started going down on you, Matt moved up to suck on your clit. Hard.

Frank kissed you, tongue sweeping into your mouth as both his hands cupped your breast, pinched your nipples, and your body contracted against him, his weight keeping you down as another orgasm rolled through you. Matt didn’t stop his motions through it, eagerly cleaning up your juices.

Your mind had gone blank again, the challenge Frank had thrown down forgotten. There was more movement around you, the loss of Matt’s mouth from your cunt, Frank’s body lifting from away. You wanted them to stay but couldn’t so much as whimper.

“On your hands and knees, sweetheart,” Matt’s voice came, and you felt hands turn you over onto your stomach. You tried lifting yourself up, got one hand underneath yourself, but fell back onto the mattress. “I want to fuck you again. Do you want that?”

Yes yes yes yes. You couldn’t form the words, couldn’t make a noise.

There was movement, and your breath caught in anticipation, but it was only one of their fingers, tapping once against your shoulder. Green?

An arm found its way beneath one of your hands, and you tapped once. Green.

The arm beneath your hands disappeared, and then another wrapped around your waist and pulled you up. You managed to get your knees and hands beneath you, wanting to feel them inside you again.

A hand steadied you on your hip, and you recognized it as Matt’s, thanks to the scar on the tip of his forefinger. He pushed inside, fast and rough. It shook loose a moan from your chest, a “yes” following it.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart,” Frank rumbled, and it took you a moment to follow the order. He sat in front of you, pushing your sweaty hair away from your face. He tipped your chin up, forced you to make eye contact. “You should see her, Red. Looks so pretty when she’s ruined like this. Not a single fucking thought in her head, just our good little slut.”

That got another noise out of you, eyes slipping closed again. “Hey, did I say you could do that?” Frank said, and you opened your eyes again. All your anger, all your desire to take control, had fled with your last orgasm. You were fully theirs, now. Theirs to use. “Good girl,” he praised, and you moaned, gasping as Matt continued to fill you roughly, cruelly, through the overstimulation they’d caused. “So fucking pretty. Keep your mouth open, yeah. Just like that.”

Out of your peripheral vision, you could see Frank beginning to stroke himself, cock proud against his stomach, and you felt yourself begin to drool, imagining him filling your mouth again, this time as Matt fucked you from behind. You couldn’t find the words to ask.

Frank reached up a hand to cup your cheek, thumb pressing into your mouth, and you took what you could get, sucking at it eagerly. He tasted like sex, like his cum, like you.

You moaned, keeping your eyes on Frank as you sucked his finger, Matt rutting into you. One of Matt’s hand’s reached around to stroke your cunt, and you began moving your hips against him as another orgasm crested, his pace faltering until he came inside you again. You followed him a moment later.

Frank moved his thumb from your mouth and stood, disappearing behind you, and you closed your eyes, reveling in the pleasure of your peak. Matt pulled out, and you hummed happily, until you felt the head of Frank’s cock pushing at your entrance.

And it was so much, too much, you’d just come, you couldn’t- couldn’t-. You whimpered and tried crawling up the bed, away from the pressure, but his hands grabbed your hips and dragged you back to him. You thrashed in his grip. “No no no, Frank- can’t please no-“

His form caged yours in, voice rough in your ear. “You don’t have a choice, you hear me? Don’t have a single goddamn choice. Were bad earlier. Gotta be reminded who’s in charge here, yeah? Now be a good little slut and take my cock.”

You whimpered as he mounted you, the overstimulation painful.

“Wait, Frank-” Matt suddenly said, and Frank stilled. “Color, sweetheart.”

“Gree-!“ you gasped, and Frank grunted and pounded into you with deep, quick thrusts, hands holding your hips in place. The overstimulation quickly went from painful to pleasurable, and your hands dropped out from under you, face against the mattress. You were powerless against the waves of sensation, against his control.

Finally, your brain went quiet. It was what you’d been chasing since you came home, and you let it wash over and through you, taking you away.

When you came back to yourself, you were on your side between them. You blinked open your eyes, finding Frank looking at you. “Mm.”

He smiled. “Hey.”

You closed your eyes and nuzzled into his chest. “How long was I gone?”

“Not long.”

“You came again?”

“Yeah.” They’d cleaned you off at least, that much you could tell.

“Was that what you needed?” Matt asked from behind you.

“Yeah,” you sighed happily. “Thank you. Both of you.” You pressed a gentle kiss to Frank’s lips, then rolled over to give one to Matt as well.

You were all quiet for a long minute, enjoying the others’ presence. Matt finally said, “Are you ready to talk to us about work now?”

You sighed, kept your eyes closed. “It’s stupid.”

Matt hummed. “That’s the fifth time you’ve bratted in the three years we’ve been together. It’s not stupid.”

It took you a second to find the words. “Remember how I had that big presentation? That I had to give to the CEO of my company?” You’d been working on this project for several months, and you were so proud of it. It could change the way your company did business, and your research suggested that it might increase your revenue fivefold. Even being a lower-level worker in the company, your manager had been so impressed she’d passed it up the chain, and it’d gone all the way to land you in front of the e-suite. You’d put on the dress and heels that made you feel powerful, and walked in ready to wow.

“I walked into that presentation, and everyone ignored me. They didn’t realize I was who they were hearing from. The CEO asked me to get them coffee.”

Matt’s hand moved to your waist, thumb brushing against your skin to comfort. Frank gave a quiet, angry, “shit.”

“I gave them my name, explained why I was there, and they let me give my presentation.” The entire time, they’d seemed to be looking at your body more than your slideshow. When they weren’t checking their phones, that was. “And then afterwards, he said he would ‘think about it,’” you said, impersonating his tone. They’d made it clear that it was a no, that your idea wasn’t worth shit to them. All that stress, those months of work, for nothing.

Frank said, “do you want me to kill them?”

And you knew if you said yes, Frank would do it in a heartbeat. You also knew that Matt would never forgive you for it. “No, sweetheart.” you said. “I don’t want them dead, I just wish they hadn’t… hadn’t made me feel so useless.”

“You’re not useless,” Matt said, with conviction. “Sweetheart, if you were useless, Frank and I would’ve been dead fifteen times over. If they make you feel that way, then you don’t have to stay with them. We have the savings if you want to quit and find a new job.”

And you laughed, blinked back your grateful tears. He meant it, every word. You stitched them together night after night, watched them hurt themselves for other’s peace. You didn’t ask them for that, so they gave you this instead: unconditional support. Endless love. “I think I need to calm down, a bit. I’ll see how I feel on Monday.” You hesitated, then said, “thank you.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Matt said. You smiled again, eyes slipping shut, and then an alarm went off.

You all startled, and Frank pulled away from you, standing. “Fuck, that’s the timer for the lasagna.” You’d forgotten about dinner. “I’m gonna go set the table. I’ll make sure to wipe it down, sweetheart.”

You rolled over to look at him. “I’m sorry I yelled, Frank. I was angry at them, and I took it out on you, and I’m sorry.”

He smiled at you. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

#frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #frank castle smut #matt murdock x frank castle x reader #reader insert #my fic

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freelancearsonist · 9 months ago

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Sensation

Matt Murdock x afab!Reader

Rated MA for 2k of pure porn with barely any plot, consensual blindfolding, dom/sub dynamics (Matt punishing reader), oral sex, piv sex, all the sex

1,975 Words

A/N: as always thank you to my love @shakespeareanwannabe for being my best beta reader (and for the prompt ofc) 🖤 i wrote this in one sitting at like 10PM so sorry if it sucks LMAO

“This is a punishment,” Matt reminds you, his breath heavy enough against your ear to send a shiver down your spine. He knows it, of course–if your eyes weren’t firmly covered with his tie, you’d be able to see the smirk that slowly spreads across his full lips.

In your defense, you’re not sure how exactly he expected you to behave tonight. He had you get all dolled up so he could take you to a fancy restaurant for dinner, and of course he was the most edible thing in the entire establishment. It’s his own fault for looking so damned fine, really. If he hadn’t worn that sleek, form-fitting suit with that blood-red tie (the exact one now being used as your punishment blindfold), you wouldn’t have had to misbehave. And really, kissing him deeply in front of the whole restaurant wasn’t that bad. Even if you did grab his ass a little a lot. How could you possibly be expected to keep your hands to yourself?

Not that you’re really complaining about this punishment. Your eyes may have been the thing to get you into trouble in the first place, but every sensation is heightened so much further without their use

For instance, the way his hands trace down your thighs. Normally it’s nothing more than a touch to you, a mark of the journey on his way to where you really want him. Tonight, it’s more than that. It makes your body jolt ever so slightly when his hands first make contact, and then you notice the intention of his feather-light pressure as they move. It’s meant to drive you crazy, and it works perfectly. Normally, it would take more effort to get you squirming. Yet this simple touch rips a completely involuntary whine from your throat. You hear him chuckle, and you know he’s eating this up. Part of you wants to rebel, to not give him the satisfaction of witnessing you enjoy your punishment. But the other–larger–part of you wants nothing more than for his touch to continue.

You don’t have to ask–he’s gracious in that aspect. This time his hands work their way up, gliding over the smooth expanse of your stomach to his target. He revels in the gasp you emit when his fingertips dance under the curves of your breasts, almost but not quite touching in a way that makes you want to growl and beg for more.

But begging isn’t what’s on his mind tonight. He’ll give you anything you want without making you ask–Matt’s goal is stimulation.

And that’s why he wastes no time cupping your breasts in his hands, running the roughly calloused pads of his thumbs over your taut nipples. It feels divine; the perfect mix of friction and pressure.

You’ve known from your first romp in the sheets together that your boyfriend is talented, especially when it comes to bedroom activities. He’s never failed to make you feel euphoria beyond your wildest dreams. But you’ve never appreciated his skilled hands as much as you do in this moment.

And then his mouth takes over for the hand that slides up to idly hold your neck–not applying pressure, just resting there as a subtle reminder of his power over you–and you swear you’re dying. You must be halfway out of your body and on the way to heaven because nothing should be able to feel this good. Especially not something as simple as his ever-so-soft and wet tongue gliding smoothly in a tight circle before laving directly over your nipple.

You jolt from the sensation and his hand is quick to shoot down to your hip, a steadying pressure to keep you in place as he continues the assault with his mouth.

It’s a lot, the combination of his hands and his mouth on your delicate skin. Especially with your senses tuned and stretched tight as piano wire. But it’s not too much, and he knows it. He knows he can keep pushing, and he wants to. He’s curious exactly what your breaking point will be.

Matt is rarely impatient, but he is now. The feeling of your trembling muscles, the scent of your neglected arousal, the sound of your panted breaths–it all drives him wild with desire. He’s aching and desperate for you in a way that he’s tried to train himself never to be. Patience is a virtue, after all; but there’s nothing virtuous about Matthew Murdock when he has you like this.

He trails his tongue down, down, down; only pausing for a moment to suck a deep velvet mark into the flesh of your stomach. It’s worth the reaction that comes from you–simultaneously trying to squirm away yet push closer to him. He loves you like this, so carnally unraveled. There’s not a thought in your head–a head that’s normally swirling with genius and creativity–which is such a luxurious rarity. He’s proud of himself, really, for his ability to unwind you so easily.

He takes a moment for himself, soaking in your scent and sounds as he settles himself between your spread thighs. There are few places he loves to be more than right here, with your legs wrapped around his head and his tongue buried in you.

There are few places you love for him to be more, too. Especially like this, with every nerve in your body on high alert. The anticipation is deadly–without your sight, you never know when his next touch is coming. It’s maddening, entrancing, arousing. You don’t even have the wherewithal to be embarrassed of how wet you are; not that he would ever expect you to be. Matt is never quite satisfied until he has you dripping enough to necessitate a sheet change once he’s done ruining you.

You’re halfway there already, and he can’t deny himself any longer. You owe him, really–he had to skip dessert after your little display at the restaurant so he could drag you home.

Maybe he has a thing for your possessive nature. He doesn’t really feel the need to put a label on it.

The first light flick of his tongue against your waiting core is hardly enough to feel. Perhaps under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t feel it at all. But like this, with every ounce of your being wound tight with anticipation, it feels like a hot bullet of pleasure slicing through your cunt. It makes you whine and squirm, necessitating his large hands to come to your hips so he can hold his dessert in place.

The second flick of his tongue isn’t really a flick but more of a drag. Hot and languid, savoring the sweetness of your want for him. It’s Matt who moans this time–deep in his throat, completely unconscious. He can’t help it, not when you taste this good.

He really does want to drag this out. He wants to take his time making a meal of you, savor every second of your taste on his tongue. But he’s desperate, and teasing is out the door when he gets like this. There’s no time for you to prepare before he’s delving in, drinking from you like you’re his fountain of youth.

It’s harsh, the sudden overload of sensation. It makes you writhe under his strong grip and gasp for breath as you try not to shatter into a billion pieces. It makes your thighs clamp around his head, holding him into place as a plea for him to not stop, to never stop. It makes your stomach churn, muscles aching from how tightly your internal coil is wound.

It makes you tumble over the edge with barely a second’s notice.

A fresh wave of wetness meets his greedy tongue as he basks in the sound of your moans and sobs, and suddenly he’s starting to wonder if this punishment isn’t for him. It must be, because the deep ache in his balls and the way his pants have tightened so unbearably can’t be anything but a punishment.

He’s eager to remedy this situation as his soft lips trace gentle kisses into the meat of your thighs, giving you a short reprieve from the onslaught of stimulation. Emphasis on short–all the while he’s unbuckling his belt and hastily shoving his pants and boxers down his thighs, too desperate to take the time to bare himself for you.

“Ready?” He asks, taking the time and attention to set a gentle kiss on your chin as he positions himself between your legs.

You nod, but it’s not enough.

“Words, baby.” That stern tone of his could make you do literally anything.

“Yes,” you say, and he’s balls deep before you’ve even finished the word.

It’s nothing short of overwhelming. The sheer size of him, which is already daunting on a regular day, is nearly unbearable. He’s stretching seemingly every inch of you, bullying your body into accommodating his girth. You feel his tip kiss your cervix, and it makes tears of pleasure prickle at the corners of your eyes.

In his favor, he does give you a moment to recover from the sudden shock of his intrusion. And then he rolls his hips–not even pulling out, but somehow managing to get even deeper. You feel him so completely it’s almost as if he’s in your god damned throat. And he relishes it; the salt of your tears, the hitch of your breath, the tremble of your chest.

He draws out almost completely, then bullies his way back in. Your cunt squeezes so tight around him that he actually swears–your good, sweet, church-going Matt curses the heavens for making you so tight and wet and willing. Because even as he sets his harsh pace, slamming into you with something akin to ferocity, you don’t complain. You take every inch of him with gratitude, nails scratching down his back because your blissed-out mind needs some form of purchase.

The blindfold really isn’t doing anything for you at this point; your eyes are squeezed so tightly shut that you hardly even register it’s there anymore. Your mind can’t focus on a single sensation, but it processes everything–the slick glide of his cock pounding into you, the slap of his thighs against yours, his mouth trailing panted kisses over your neck. There’s so much sensation that it overwhelms you, turns you numb as you clench even tighter around him.

He almost asks if it’s too much, although the thought of stopping now makes his gut ache. But there’s no need–as soon as his thumb sweeps lightly over your clit, you’re shattering. The pleasure of it makes you shake and cough, like your engine’s on its last leg and you’re about to break down on the side of the road. Your cunt weeps with the stimulation, soaking down your thighs and his until there’s no hope of redeeming these sheets.

Matt doesn’t let up until your contracting muscles go limp, just in time for him to spill deep inside of you with a final harsh thrust of his hips. It’s warm and hot and the perfect sensation to end on, even as he slowly eases his length out of you so he can flop down next to you.

There’s nothing but the sound of heavy panting for a moment or two, and then Matt’s fingers find your face so he can undo the tie wrapped over your eyes. Then his lips are on you again; this time pressing gentle kisses over your sore eyelids.

“You okay?”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. You’re not quite sure how to express just how okay you are. You decide on, “The only punishing part of that will be if we never do that again.”

He laughs as he pulls you to cuddle against his chest, because he’s thinking the same exact thing.

THE END

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#cece writes #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil smut #daredevil fanfiction #mcu fanfiction

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bornagainmurdock · 4 months ago

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coming back from space (sub!reader version)

author's note: pillow fort as aftercare is ult soft dom behavior

contents: 18+ ONLY, suggestive but ultimately fluffy, matt murdock x reader, gender neutral reader, sub!reader, aftercare, pillow fort, use of 'pet' & 'sir,' mentions of spanking, impact play, voice kink, degradation

work count: 1.4K

Matt was an intense person: in his Daredevil activites, at work at the law firm, and most of all when you two had kinky times. He was determined and focused, and could do anything with an immense amount of passion. Tonight Matt had ruined you. And now it was time to pick up the pieces, bring you back from subspace to reality.

While Matt was incredibly intense, he was also so gentle and kind. He knew how hard it was for your brain to come back, and so, Matt was slow, touching you only when he knew you could handle new sensory input. Matt was gentle, and most importantly, Matt was a secret cuddle bug.

"Come here, love. Hmm, can I touch you?" Matt spoke softly, barely a hum.

You were lying on the bed, still messy, still a mess, face down panting into the mattress after the last few hours activities. You didn't remember when the scene ended. You were sure you had blacked out at some point, having cum one too many times to remember anything but Matt's name.

Matt was good at sending you into subspace, his touch and his words were addicting. All he had to say was that one word and you were gone.

"Pet, come back to me."

The brain fuzz continued, sound still muted and uneven, coarsing through your brain before you're able to process anything Matt says. Your vision was also fuzzy and unclear, Matt's body moving through the air-goo.

"Matty?"

"I'm right here, baby. You're safe. Took a lot out of you today, hmm?" He had a proud smile across his face, sitting on the edge of the bed keeping his physical space to allow you to breathe.

His words sounded angelic, lighting up inside your head and sendign chills through your whole body. Your muscles twitched under your skin, reminding you of everything.

"Matty."

You played through the previous events in your head, stopping at all your favorite parts to relive it. You began a smile, finding it hard to make even the smallest movements.

"Matt, hold me?" You were quite, finding the courage to break the silence.

He reached a hand over towards you, sinking his fingers into the sheets to steady himself to sit closer. He helped contort your body towards his; Matt's hands gripping at your skin softly to not irritate it anymore than it already was.

He lifted your head to set it on his thigh, brushing strands of your hair out of your face and then when his mission was complete, stroking your cheek. His hands were red and hot.

"There you go, love. How do you feel?" He was still quite, trying his best to wake your body and brain back up.

"Feels like I'm floating."

"I could've told you that. Are you hurt? Like bad hurt?" Matt listened to your heart, scanning your body audibly to see where you were uncomfortable. "Is it your hips? Can I help?"

"When did you learn to read minds?" You nuzzled farther into Matt's skin, breathing in his scent to remain calm and subdued.

"Can hear it in the way you're twitching. Do you need anything?"

"Heat pack I think. Maybe some lotion for my ass and thighs." You said.

Matt giggled at your words, reaching over to the side table for the tub of unscented lotion you loved.

"Bring that ass over." He spoke, unscrewing the lid.

"Not the first time I've heard that sentence tonight." You rolled your eyes.

Matt tapped a light spank across your ass again, feeling your skin heat up against his touch. After resting there for a second, he grabbed a glob of lotion and began to spread thick layers over your skin immediately cooling the burn.

"Ahh! Matt ouchie!" You winced and wriggled.

"I'm sorry baby. It'll feel better soon." He pressed the lotion lightly into your skin once the first layer was applied. "You're just so cute when you're in fun pain."

"You're a pain." You joked.

"You weren't saying that a few minutes ago. I think you were saying, 'Oh sir please hit me harder'." Matt's voiced raised a bit when he mocked you.

"Not fair," you pouted, "you liked it."

"You're right. Sir did like it." Matt smirked with his words.

"Matttty." You whimpered.

He slapped your ass one more time for good measure, laughing as his hand came down.

"Okay, let's get you cozy. How do you feel about a pillow fort and some movies tonight while you recover from that spanking, hmm?" Matt rescrewed the lotion lid on and placed it back in its spot on the table.

"I think you making a pillow fort is an occupational hazard."

"You think you're so funny, hmm? Good thing I already made the fort." He said standing up from the bed and holding a hand out to you. "Let's get you dressed first. My shirt and boxers?"

"Yes, please." You smiled, looking up at Matt and taking his hand.

"Please what?" He inquired.

"Yes please, sir." You corrected yourself. "You're goofin. I thought you were supposed to get me back to reality, not make me stay here in fuzzworld."

"Why's that? Can't my baby be a subby mess for me all night?" He teased, knowing just how much of an effect his words had on you.

"Subbbyyyy." You slurred.

"Mmhm. Let's go to the fort." He helped you stand, carrying most of your weight as you walked over the closet to put his clothes on you.

"Leg up," Matt whispered, helping you dress. "Good pet."

Once you were covered again, Matt helped you walk to the living room, now a large pillow fort with perfect view of the TV.

"Oh Matty! When did you make this!?" You hadn't expected something so elaborate.

"While you were passed out after the what— fifth, sixth time cumming. I wanted you to get some rest after I pushed your body to the extreme, so I got busy building this." He smiled softly. "Let's get in!"

Matt crawled behind you and waited for you to get settled before shifting behind you, letting you lean back on him and cuddle.

He held you there for what felt like hours but must have only been a few minutes, his breathing leading your own sinking your body further into him.

This was heaven. This was paradise. You chests rising and falling together, Matt's hands holding you against him.

"What did you like most about the scene today?" Matt always liked to check in reletively soon after the scene while you were lucid, able to remember details and the intensity of it.

"Liked it all. Liked your hands all over my body, and how intense it felt. Liked when you were possessive and corrected me when I forgot to call you 'Sir.' Liked it when you," you were breathless trying to say each and every thing that happened, "when you, were mean to me a little bit. But just a little bit. Think I might cry if you were meaner."

"I liked touching you and being possessive and a little bit mean, too. I really liked watching you react to my words and redirection. You were like putty in my hands. I'm sure I could've gotten you to say whatever I wanted you to if I tried hard enough." Matt was sincere, focusing on every way your body moved and squirmed underneath him. "What do you think about the pillow fort?"

"Think it's the best thing ever. Matty best boyfriend ever!"

"I love you," He was smiling, pressing kisses all over your face before stopping to smile at you.

"I think I was also promised a movie." You spoke into Matt's skin.

"You're right. What do you want to watch? Movie? TV show? That ten hour long aquarium video I always catch you watching." He giggled.

"It's just so relaxing! But no, I want to watch a movie. Can we watch Wreck-It Ralph?" You pouted, looking at his smile.

"That sounds like a great idea. Can you pull it up?" He handed you the remote and you turned it on, finding it in your most recents.

You hit play on the movie and Matt placed a kiss on the top of your head.

The movie started after opening frames flashed in front of you, "My name's Ralph, and I'm a bad guy."

#matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut

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bunmurdock · 4 months ago

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am i the only one who finds that premature ejaculation can actually be really hot? 😔 like idk about y’all but im pretty sure matt would be the type to cum quickly and even untouched sometimes because (yk hypersenses)and i think he wouldn’t be ashamed at all cause that man is a charming slut.

but it’s not like sex with him is quick cause i’m also sure that it is really NOT. he takes his sweet time with his partners and when he wants to last longer he just pulls off to let himself breath and his partners wouldn’t even notice why he is doing that because he’s so smooth with it that it just looks like he’s teasing them, yk? he’d pull off and eat them out or slow down his rhythm or even make his partners cum quicker by sliding his hand to their clit 😵‍💫🐰

also really specific fantasy of matt eating pussy (cause he’s a munch duh) and literally cumming on his pants just from it !! </33 so when you’re getting really close and your moans get louder his do too and you don’t really get why until after your climax he lifts himself up and you see that damp spot on his boxers

BUT while his heightened senses might make him cum quicker than usual they also give him a really high sex drive like ik that man is INSANE and he definitely compenses his sexual partners (which he canonically has a lot, i love my experienced man) by getting hard again in a matter of seconds

ANYWAYS 🤕

it's so hot whimper :( i got inspired...

i can see matt murdock climaxing two minutes into you riding him in earnest, bed swaying so hard his cane clatters to the ground from where it's propped up against the headboard. he chokes and wheezes from the overstimulation. maybe you graze your nails—they can be long or short—over his chest, nipples, stomach, with just the right amount of pain mixed in with the pleasure, and he'd twitch with every marking. because hitherto all his senses were trained on you, your expressions, curves, and breaths, until you got him where he was most sensitive, most guarded. his arms would come up and seize yours on instinct. maybe you'd gently push them back over his head, leaning down to cup his precious head in your hands, kiss his nose, and whisper sweet little nothings at him. i could see him barely croaking out that he's gonna cum if you don't stop riding him, before seizing up and lifting his hips so high into yours you're raised off the bed momentarily while he empties himself into you. flips you over a while later, and shoots another load into the bedsheets like a touch-starved teenage boy from the way your cunt wags into his face while he inhales your girlmusk.

also, i've said it before, but matt murdock strikes me as someone who prefers to make love with a consistent partner over flings with strangers. most wouldn't want to hear about his personal problems or really get to know him for who he is beyond the surface. but if he was with someone he felt completely safe, perceived, and accepted around, i could see him as capable of being made to cum in thirty seconds flat, anywhere, any place. lots of silly little quickies everywhere. as long as it's with you ^—^b

masterlist | share your mm fantasies

#inbox #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #bunny brain #bun’s #>500 words #dom!reader #!overstimulation #!denialplay #!oral #sub!matt

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pastafossa · 2 years ago

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The Red Thread: Chapter 130

If you’re looking for the non-smutty bits to read, there’s a note on the beginning of this chapter about where to jump down to! Next week we’ll be back to plotty goodness so hang in there!

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Chapter Summary:

"I’ve marked the back of you.” You reached around and ran your fingers down his calf. You spared a brief moment of fondness for the scar you found, tracing the raised line of scar tissue—formed by a wound you’d once helped stitch shut—before you finally dipped to brush your mouth against the curved bones of his ankle. It wasn’t what he expected, and his legs spasmed a little until you caught them both in your hands and pressed them down, your voice dangerously soft, a burning green fire growing in your soul as you breathed out your hunger against his skin. “But the front… the front is mine, too.

Wordcount: 3,973

Warnings for this chapter: same as last chapter, basically. Sub!Matt, Dom!Jane/reader, bondage, oral (f!receiving and matt's milking that for all he's got), biting, possessive!reader, praise kink, a snatch of thread/psychic sex, hint of edging, scent marking, dirty talk, and sex, tada.

Read me on AO3 because that’s where penguins hang out

#the red thread #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x f!reader #reader #reader fic #x reader #not sfw #fic #fanfic #sub!matt murdock #dom!reader #basically a whole barrel of sin in these two chapters #but with a plotty little bit at the end of this one #there was honestly gonna be some more but i ran out of time so #OFF YE GET no pun intended

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 year ago

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heyy!! how are you? I love your writing!! could you please do some sub!matt murdock headcannons? 🥺 (I cant express how much I'd love to turn this man into a beggin mess)

hii again lovie!! im doing well ty, how are you? and thank you so much!! 🫶 ofc ofc! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌 and apologies for the delay

—

SUB MATT HC’s

matt murdock x f!reader

word count. <300

warnings. 18+ only!! couple descriptions. mdni

— he's a different person when he's submissive. when dom, he's grunting, slapping (?) praising. but when he's sub, he's whiney and handsy, pleads and begs a little. he makes these half-breath-like noises. they're kinda strangled and choked🫠

— if you're riding him (slowly) his hands would paw at your thighs and waist, squeezing and digging in bc you're teasing him too much. he gets a tad overwhelmed with the slow pace. the way his cock drags from you at such an excruciating speed ??!!??? makes the back of his head burrow into the pillow - he gets all annoyed, and frustrated

— his reactions and noises would probs fluff your ego, the way he'd buck his hips up into you, wanting more - whimpering and pleading for you to stop being a tease

— his hair gets all tousled, and he pants and makes these really fucking hot whimpering sigh sounds :((

— dirty talker, even when sub's. he's a natural at it, and it just slips out

— he's very sensitive when subbing, especially to touch. you know his pleasure spots and where likes being touched - a light stroke on the thigh, a nibble on his ear lobe, a hesitant kiss to his lips. he likes the tension, and the longing of it, but he might not admit it though

— every once in a while he enjoys receiving princess treatment - to be kissed, admired, worshipped. he likes giving it to you, but sometimes it's a nice change of pace, and it's often needed (like after a bad patrol)

— just had an idea - maybe if were 69ing, you'd keep yourself perched higher so he can't reach you. he’s so close to be able to eat you out, but just so far. maybe you have him cuffed to the bed just to tease him that bit more

— he can only sub for so long. he lets you have your 'fun' before wanting to switch

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

#request #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock smut #matt murdock headcanon #daredevil x reader #daredevil

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cerridwen007 · 1 year ago

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Corruption of Innocence. Part 1.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x f!reader.

Word count: 5K (18+) minors dni!

Summary: You are the main topic of daydreams that have recently been flooding Matt's mind. Ever since he met you, you've held a strong place in his head. Every part of him has become obsessed with you, the thought of loving you, growing old together and the thought of taking your innocence for himself frequently saturate his thoughts.

Notes/warnings: SMUT, horny af Matt, possessive/obsessive Matt, soft Matt, dirty talk, oral (male receiving), suggesting of p in v, power dynamic, unhealthy relationship, obsessive reader, sub reader, virgin reader, dom Matt, masturbation, dirty talk, no use of y/n.

A/N: Okay like I said in bio, I am quite new to tumblr and fanfic writing so I'm experimenting with a few different writing styles/conventions, level of detail and overall subject in the fics. So if you want to let me know if you found this smut enjoyable/easy to read, that would be much appreciated thanks. Also I am currently writing part 2 and was going to wait till I was further into writing with that but I just couldn’t wait to post this. I love it too much. I just wanna add that I am so grateful for the love and interaction I've received on my writing. I honestly never would have thought that so many of you would read my work let alone enjoy it, so for that I thank you and hope I can continue to deliver pieces of writing y'all enjoy.

Corruption of Innocence. Part 2.

***********

He was obsessed with you, like no man has been or ever will. Not that it was hard or anything, you were a very good looking girl that had turned a few heads in her time, but no one had seemed to appreciate you like he did. Matt had his fair share of relationship, hookups, onenight stands and such but none of them had fulfilled anything more that his animalistic want to fuck.

You were a different breed, rare, one of a kind, everytime he touched you he felt chills that rain throughout his entire body, setting his soul on fire and freezing it simultaneously. It was like touching an angel, you were healing his soul.

“Ah Matt, are you okay, did you need something?” you asked, a little confused at the man who had been standing in front of you for a while now.

He had been daydreaming in front of you, he had thought of you many times in many different scenarios but he never had been lost in his thoughts of you in the same room, let alone right in front of you.

“Oh.. ah yeah that’s right I wanted to see if you could reschedule the appointment I had with the Lopez family for Thursday instead of Friday." Matt choked out.

“Sure. anything else, boss?” you asked innocently.

A million thoughts raced across his mind. You slowly but enthusiastically sucking his dick, taking all of his length that you could before you choked, pulling it back out and teasing the tip of your tongue, precum dripping into your mouth, with a single drop escaping from the corner of your mouth. You were not looking away as his head dropped back between his shoulders, a loud grunt coming from his throat as he exhaled. Every wet swipe of your tongue sent shivers down his spine. That little scenario was one of many that often flashed brightly across his mind like an advertisement.

Matt quickly cleared his throat and as subtly as he could dropped the case file he was holding a little lower in attempts to hide his growing excitement. “No, that will be all…. Thank you.”

He quickly walked away to try and dissect that awkward encounter alone in his office and if he could stop thinking about you, do some work too. Which was very unlikely. He closed the door to his office and sat down behind the desk in a huff. He put his face in his hands and deeply exhaled. He was very confused about many things all surrounding you. You were like his kryptonite and anti-venom all at once.

Ever since you entered his life 6 months ago, becoming his new assistant and eventually even entering his friend group, he had been fascinated by you (especially because you were so hard to read unlike everyone else in his life) which quickly led to obsession.

He had always been a charmer and good with girls even in university (though his skills have much increased since then). But it had always been easy for him to bed any girl he wanted and that wanted him. And knowing the slut he is, it was many, very frequently. But around you he often became awkward and struggled to get the right words out, if any at all.

He was both frustrated and loved that you made him this way, very different to the experience he had with other girls. You were so perfect in every way, kind, caring, funny, sassy when you wanted to be, intelligent, had many talents and hobbies, confident and more. Yet he had many conflicting thoughts about you.

He wanted to spend hours sensually kissing every inch of your body, to study it so he could know it like the back of his hand, yet he also wanted to make you scream out his name as he claimed your pussy was his and nobody else's. His daydreams of you were often filled with starting a family with you and meeting your family and adopting pets together then quickly turned into how fucking pretty you would look as you pathetically whimpered his name, too drunk on his cock to form any other words than that.

He was torn about having dirty thoughts about you, especially having no idea if the feelings were reciprocated. On one hand he felt almost gross thinking such dirty thoughts about a girl who came across as quite innocent especially compared to his previous romances but on the other side of him, maybe even the devil in him got even more worked up thinking about taking your innocence and being the only one allowed to praise and use your body. Corrupting you for his own entertainment.

***********

You were a class A simp. Since early teen years, you had a problem with getting crushes and becoming obsessed with them. It started off like any crush of course giggling and blushing at everything they say about you, but soon it became more, too much in fact. You would put them on such a high pedestal you would disregard and not even acknowledge any questionable or bad traits they had, even if your friends tried to warn you about it. You would simply brush it off saying it was nothing. They would appear in your dreams frequently, you would often find yourself talking to yourself and daydreaming about what it would be like to be with them and spend the rest of your lives together.

All this infatuation led to severe disappointment, after a long while; sometimes up to years and years, the hazy cloud of perfection that you viewed them through would slowly disappear for one reason or another and you would crumble. You were a very sensitive and emotional person so it felt like your heart was literally breaking every time this happened. All over some of the shittest guys that would barely even look your way.

You had gotten alot better since then. It had taken a long time to get over and past this self spiralling routine you had; lots of counselling and long talks with friends and just a lot more focusing on yourself. In fact for the last 3 years you had managed to stay away from developing severely unhealthy crushes, just keeping it nice and casual with the few guys that you had briefly dated, reminding yourself to look out for red flags and not to put them on some sort of perfection pedestal in your mind. You were quite proud of yourself and it was going good till you met Matt Murdock.

Looking back at all the guys you had previously become attached to, they were all pretty shitty. Either they were misogynistic or racist or made snide and creepy jokes or all three. Matt was nothing like that. You made sure you kept notes of anything out of pocket he would say and how he would act around others and had found no red flags.

Yes, he was a bit of a flirt with other women (which you would deny to yourself but made you a little jealous) but he would alway keep it respectful and know that the girl felt comfortable around him. Still you tried your best to not think or acknowledge him more than you have to at work and social gatherings, still determined to withhold the new values you kept for yourself involving men. But it sure was damn hard. He was pretty fucken perfect.

Over the last month, as much as you hated yourself for it, you found yourself again slipping into your old, bad habits. You tried everything to stop it, distracting yourself with cleaning and cooking and hanging out with friends and everything else you could think of. None of which did much at all. The one thing that did seem to help stop or slow your growing infatuation for Matt was one thing.

You were inexperienced, and I'm talking very inexperienced. The furthest you had gotten was a very awkward teeth banging into each other's makeout session that resulted in chipping the guy's tooth. You always tried your best to forget that memory. Even though you had been on a few dates with a few different guys it never got very far because of your fear of intimacy. I mean don't get me wrong you would love to be fucked the shit out of and then cuddle after and do allsorts of dirty stuff in the bedroom. Lord knows you thought about it often but you never had the balls to actually do any of that stuff.

Whenever there was an opportunity, you panicked and kept overthinking about everything. Does your breath smell bad, what if you accidentally bite him too hard, what if he is actually a mad scientist and he's going to steal your DNA and make a clone out of you?! All this stuff was actually just anxiety. The real reason you had never gotten very far is because you were scared, so scared of being so vulnerable with someone, letting them into your most secret thoughts and letting them see you whole, imperfections and all. You were so caught up in your insecurity, that you never let anyone truly in, afraid of not being good enough causing them to leave you. So when Matt had asked you if you wanted to hang out at his place tonight, one on one, since Karen, Foggy and Marci were all busy, you got really nervous and spit out an awkward “..Yes!... sure I'd love to.”

**********

“Great, I'll see you at 8 tonight.” Matt said calmly. But he wasn't calm at all. In fact he too was quite nervous as being with you in the office or in a group setting it was hard to keep his hands off you. Your scent drove him wild, oftentimes throughout the day at work he would have to sneak off to the bathroom and relieve himself, driven mad by your pheromones filling his nostrils, making his cock throb in pain. Imagining it was your soft hand or wet mouth relieving him instead.

He honestly didn't know what came over himself asking you to come over to his place by yourself so the two of you could hang. He had no clue how he was going to keep his dick under wraps having your strong scent be right under his nose at all times. He certainly wouldn't be able to sneak off to the bathroom during the night to ease the pain. The thoughts continually plagued his mind through the rest of the evening at work and throughout his walk home. He pushed the thoughts aside when he got home though, having instead to focus on tidying up his place a little and getting ready for you.

After giving his place a little clean up and ordering the takeout food in advance to come 30 mins after you arrive, he decided to have a shower to calm his nerves before you came. He turned on the water to the temperature he likes and stripped his clothes off, stepping in the shower he sighs deep, warm water relaxing his tension filled muscles. The hot spray easing his muscles, his mind begins to wander again. Without thinking one of his hands brush against thick thighs as he pictures how the awkward conversation earlier could have gone.

“Sure,anything else boss?” you ask innocently.

Matt's friendly smile turns into a devilish grin. “ I might have one thing in mind that you could help me with, honey.”

You gulp nervously but intrigued. “And what would that be Mr. Murdock?”

Matt chuckles deeply and leans into the desk, very close to your face. “ Make my cock as wet as your pussy is getting right now!”

Matt slowly starts to stroke his firming dick, deep breathes concealed by the noise of the shower raining down on his broad back.

Your voice hitches in your throat as your cheeks redden a dark crimson, you nod and say “yes” in a small voice. You stand up from your desk and walk around to Matthew staring at you with a dark look in his covered eyes. You slowly get on your knees in front of him and begin to unbuckle his belt and undo his zipper. You warily look around for Foggy nearby in the office or anyone else visiting. Matt lifts up your chin softly and wipes his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Don't worry about anyone catching us sweetheart, I'm sure you'll make me cum before anyone finds us.” he smirks, giving you a tender rub on your cheek with his thumb before removing it.

Your cheeks continue to blush and you smile a little.You fasten your pace undoing Matt’s belt and pull down his dress pants. He reaches down and pulls his hard cock loose from his black boxers. You gasp a little intimidated by the sheer size of the veiny monster before you. Without thinking you grab the shaft firmly and put your lips around the head. Matt quietly groans as his head falls back between his shoulders. You start to bob your head on his tip while stroking the rest of his length with your hand, slick from your saliva dripping down it.

Breathing deeper and louder, Matt begins to stroke faster and harder on his throbbing cock in the shower. The steam and his sweat make his toned muscles glisten in the low light in the bathroom. Soft moans escape his lips as he strokes wishing like hell that it was your soft hands and mouth, pleasing him instead of his rough calloused hands.

You pussy throbs softly, your panties completely soaking.The smell and sound of your arousal make him growl deeply. Your hunger grows and grows the longer you suck his dick. Each time you bob your head down his shaft you try and take a little more of his length down your throat, desperately fighting back the urge to gag as tears begin to prick your eyes. You fasten your pace stroking him as his moans become louder, sensing he is close. Your teeth lightly graze him for a few seconds causing him to cum.

“Fuck!” Matt groans as he caresses his throbbing cock to the end of his high.

You slurp up everything leaving no trace making Matt moan deeply. He reaches down to wipe away some droplets that have fallen out the corner of your mouth. Smirking he puts his flaccid cock back into his boxers and does up his pants zipper and belt.

“Fuck that was good, sweetheart!”

Foggy suddenly walks in on the two of you, not having a single clue about the activities that had just occurred seconds ago.

“What are you two doing ?” he asked. You both swiftly look back at Foggy.

“Oh… um… I was just helping Matt tie his shoe.”

Foggy raises his eyebrow in suspicion.

“Yeah she was helping me cause I pulled my back last night… exercising.” Matt says cooly.

“Right! Exercising… yup, that makes sense!” Foggy replies back to Matt thinking he understood what Matt was covering for. “ Well I'm heading out to Josie’s to meet Karen and Marci who are already there, so I'll see you later?”

“Yup,we’ll be there Foggy!” you say peering from beside Matt's legs. Foggy grins and walks out. Matt waits till Foggy has left the office completely before telling you the coast is clear.

“Okay he is gone!”

“Whew, that was a bit close.” you say as you slowly stand on your sore knees.

“Yeah too close.” he says while offering a hand up. You, looking at the ground, don't see it and accidently hit your head on it while standing up.

“ Oh shit! Are you okay?” Matt asks you, suddenly very seriously.

“Yeah, I'm okay.” you wince a little before laughing. Matt starts to laugh too.

He leans his forehead against the cool shower tile and deeply exhales. Letting the water wash away any remaining residue of his expulsion. God, not only did he want your body so bad but he also just wanted to be the one who you laugh with, the one who makes corny jokes that you try not to giggle at, the one who makes you smile lovingly at him when he says how pretty you look. Before he can get anymore lost in his thoughts, a knock at the door breaks him from his fantasies.

“Shit.'' Matt mumbles under his breath even though you won't hear him (he forgets others don't have super hearing like him sometimes) and quickly scrambles to turn the water off and put a towel around his waist. He walks quickly down his hall and opens the door to your confused face, with your heart rate quickening.

“Uh sorry to greet you like this I…. lost track of time in the shower….. Uh but come in, come in. I'll just quickly change. But uh make yourself at home.”

You gulp, trying to not let your eyes wander too much at the sight of Matthew only in a small white towel hanging loosely on hips. His toned abs glisten in the light, still wet from his shower. His v-line looks deliciously good with a happy trail that leads down to the tiniest bit of dark hair you can see before the towel covers the view.

“Yeah, okay sure.” you say awkwardly as Matt steps aside letting you in and closes the door. He has a wide smirk on his face as walks slowly to his bedroom to change, noticing how your heart rate has spiked since you saw him, more than half naked.

You go to sit down on his cold leather couch and nervously begin to fiddle with your fingers, knees drawn tightly together, chewing the inside of your mouth as you do. What am I doing here? You think to yourself. It wouldn't be so bad if I just got up now and left, it wouldn't be that awkward avoiding Matt for the rest of my life right? I mean I'd probably have to quit my job if he didn't fire me out of pure hatred first though.

Before you can spiral anymore, Matt walks in wearing a tight black t-shirt and light grey track pants and of course a small grin on his face. He goes to sit down beside you, so close he can easily feel your heat radiating off your body onto his.

“So.. I ordered some Thai food earlier that should arrive in 25 minutes or so if that's cool, I would cook but…”

“Yeah, Thai food sounds good and yeah Karen told me that you're not a very skilled chef mainly due to the lack of ingredients you have on hand and that you don't really like grocery stores either. No offence of course.”

“No offence taken… You’ve been talking with Karen about me?” he says, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards and one eyebrow raising.

You shuffle in your seat and feel your cheeks warm. Looking down at the ground awkwardly you respond.

“Uh.. Yeah, well I mean no…..well, not all the time of course….. I just, um there’s a few questions that I had about you that came up in conversation…naturally of course.”

He leans in near your ear and whispers. “Well, if there are any more questions that you have. I'm right here to answer them for you.”

Your face grows redder, you draw in a sharp breath, your thighs unconsciously push together tighter as the heat starts to grow deep in your stomach, catching you off guard with his sultry tone. He notices your heart rate quickening, and the ever growing prominent taste of your arousal in the air. He breathes it in deeply, humming darkly as the sweet aroma fills his nostrils, subtly palming his growing excitement a little through his pants for some relief. He smirks, gathering all the more evidence to support his suspicion that you want him like he wants you.

“Well, I have one question.” you ask shyly.

“And what would that be, honey?”

Your breath hitches in your throat for a second, so you swallow and press on. “I have noticed sometimes that…. that you seem to be more sensitive, like a lot more sensitive to certain things then the rest of us. You pause for a second looking up at his face trying to read his expression before continuing on. “ For example when that squeaky client comes in for an appointment to talk about divorcing her husband, you always look miserable like you're getting a migraine just being near her and her annoying high-pitched voice.”

“Huh, sure seems like you’ve been watching me closely sweetheart.” he responds, teasing you.

Your heart seems to be beating out of your chest as he talks very close to your ear in a slightly deeper voice than his usual, each nickname he refers to you by only makes your pussy wetter. You're afraid that soon a tear will dribble down your leg if he keeps his flirtatious act up.

“Ah, forget I said anything.” you respond, quickly trying to dismiss the topic.

“No, keep going, it’s fine, seems like you care about me.”

“Well yeah, of course I care about you, you're my boss…. and my friend and I just wanted to know if there is anything that I can do… to make it easier for you in those situations I mean.”

Matt eyebrows raise, a little taken aback. Touched at how thoughtful and caring you are, his smile beaming brightly, knowing that you think about him more than just between your thighs, although he's pretty happy about that too.

“Wow, that’s very kind of you to offer, but you don’t have to worry about me, I've gotten used to dealing with it.” He pauses. “ but… I mean if I suddenly can't deal with it and need some help…I'll let you know.”

You smile sweetly back at him. “Great.”

A moment passes between you comfortable in each other's presence before it changes back to sexual tension. You both lean in close, so close you can feel his breath on your lips. Your heart feels as though it will flutter right out of your chest. You bite your lip as Matt subtly licks his bottom lip and grins. His senses overwhelmed happily by your rapidly racing heart, the heat radiating off you and the strong scent of your arousal filling the air. Your eyes flutter close as you lean in further, lips softly brushing against one another. A knock at the door makes you pull back surprised and Matt leans his head down and sighs.

“Well, that’ll be the Thai food.” he tells you, a little annoyed.

You sit awkwardly on Matt’s couch in silence while he pays for the food and brings it to his coffee table. You both sit in silence a good 5 minutes into your meal before you speak, neither party knowing how to seamlessly carry on from the conversation you had before or the almost kiss. You work up the nerve to speak and clear your throat.

“How did you become blind Matt?” you ask him blatantly, catching him off guard. “You don’t have to tell me if you don't want to or you're not comfortable or anything…but I never asked you because I assumed it might be rude but if it's alright I'm curious to know about it.”

“No, it's fine, I can tell you.” Matt takes a deep breath before starting his story. As he speaks, you feel yourself hanging onto every word he says, your eyebrows creased together, listening to him speak about his sorrowful story.

As he finishes talking, you can’t help but stare at him in awe at how much he has been through, yet he still keeps a smile on his face everyday and manages to be such a joyful light in everyone's path he crosses. You feel yourself falling for this man more and more as he opens up to you and shows you a side that you have never seen. You then think “fuck” how am I going to get over this man when he lets me inevitably lets you down, thinking back to your previous obsessive one-sided relationships. God dammit, you were in love with this man.

Matt looks down at his feet feeling a little melancholic after talking about such a sensitive topic for him.

“Thank you… thanks for being so open with me… I know how hard it can be to fully open up and be vulnerable like that.”

Matt smiles, nodding. “Thank you for listening.”

Another silent pause ensues between you, yet this time it's comfortable. Like two longtime friends who have grown to enjoy sitting comfortably in each other's presence without the need for words.

Matt suddenly chuckles to himself. You look at him confused but smiling, fork halfway to your mouth before you stop. “What?”

“Nothing.” Matt says, still smiling to himself.

“No it's not, what is it? Tell me!” you say getting a little impatient, still with a grin.

“Oh it's just some old, dumb question that I used to ask the guys at uni, whenever there was a lull in conversation to lighten the mood.”

“Okay, well ask me then.”

Matt stares at you for a second, grinning before asking you.

“Okay fine. When was the last time you….you know, (you raise your eyebrow intrigued) masterbated?”

“Oh?” you respond blushing, not expecting him to ask you that.

“You don't have to answer that if you don't want to… I shouldn't have said anything, like I said it was a dumb thing I did in college an-” Matt rushes to say.

You giggle, smiling. “No it's fine, I'll answer… I just didn't expect that was what you were going to say.”

Matt smiles shyly.

“Uh it was like 2 days ago I think.”

“Oh, cool….cool.” Matt gulping, can't help but let his mind run to thinking about you masturbating to the thought of him. Using your fingers feverishly to try to stimulate the longing you had for him to be between your thighs instead. Crying out his name over and over wishing it was him filling your hole instead of your fingers. Matt is brought back into consciousness when you speak.

“So what about you, when did you last beat your meat?”

Matt chuckles again, at your interesting way of saying masturbate before thinking back to the activity he had just finished doing in the shower before you arrived.

“Uh, earlier today.”

“Okay… but when is ‘earlier’.”

Matt exhales, hoping his answer will make you wet at the thought of. “Before you got here, in the shower.” Matt leans in closer to you, his lips ghosting your ear, his smile turning into a sinful grin. “Actually, right before you got here, sweetheart.” he says darkly.

Your body acts on its own. Goosebumps run throughout your body, your heat pooling once again between your thighs as a quiet but clear moan escapes your lips. Not holding back at all Matt carries on.

“Does that turn you on,sweetheart?” Matt purrs, putting your takeout containers on his coffee table. You bite your lip trying to suppress another whimper leaving your mouth. “Does it make you wet just thinking about how I fucked into my hand moments before you arrived…thinking about you?” he growls. You look at him.

“Matt..” you ask breathlessly. For once your over-thinking brain can’t pull you from the present, too hypnotised by the low seductive words leaving Matt smirking mouth, each word making your panties more and more drenched.

“What sweetheart? Wanna know what I was thinking about when I came?”

You whimper, nodding. Matt puts his hand on the top of your thigh lightly, slowly rubbing it back and forth. He takes a deep breath of your addicting arousal. He swallows hard, eyes shutting for a second. His cock throbs, straining against his boxers.

“I was thinking about your pretty little mouth, tightly wrapped around my dick in the office. So hungry to take every inch you could, so enthusiastically licking up every drop of mine.”

Matt, noticing how flustered you were getting, puts his hand on your inner thighs and rubs it closer to your warming middle.

“I think of you often while I fuck into my hand. Think about fucking you so hard that you’re pathetically falling apart on my cock, failing to say any words other than my name.”

You're so horny, you're struggling to keep from touching yourself right now or even better using Matt’s hand to fuck you instead. You look down and see how tightly wound up Matt is too, which causes your pussy to painfully throb, needing him to fill you up badly.

Panting, you lean in closer to Matt, letting your lips brush against one another before making contact. The kiss at first soft and sweet quickly deepens into something hungrier, lustful. Matt wraps his hands around your jaw, tightly securing your face to his. His tongue suddenly shoots out of his mouth and makes its way in yours. You can’t help but moan loudly in his mouth, his hands start roaming your body. He goes to put his hand on your panties but you suddenly pull away.

“Ooh did I go too fast? Did I do something to make you feel uncomfortable? Matt rushes to say, looking concerned.

“Oh no, no… it’s not you at all, it's just…i’ve never really done this before.” you sigh and quietly whisper “I…I..I’m a virgin.”

Matt smiles a little trying to ignore the twitch that your words made his cock feel.

“That's all sweetheart?”

“Your not repulsed by that, the fact that I don’t know what I'm doing, that I don’t know how to please a man-”

“Not at all…if im being honest sweetheart.” he leans in and whispers, making you shiver. “It makes me want you more.”

You bite your lip surprised by his reaction, a shaky exhale leaving your mouth. He looks at you, eyes full of lust.

“Do you want me to continue?” he says, gesturing down to your thighs.

You nod and he pauses waiting for a verbal response.

“Yes. Yes Matt, I want you to touch me.”

******

#matt murdock #matt murdock fic #matt murdock smut #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil smut #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock x reader

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farfromstrange · 5 months ago

Note

Ok so just read one of your thots that ended in. The tag “submissive and breedable” and that instantly got me going on my own thot. So I present a concept to follow that one up

Matt’s been working hard. At work, as daredevil in bed. Hard work all the time working for others. Saving them, advocating for them, always putting himself first. He hates asking for things won’t often times (as you’ve said I agree).

So he’s back at it again instantly trying to please and pleasure you which you would normally love getting to have him dom you and pull every bit of pleasure from your body is amazing. But you know he’s been working too hard. And even if you have to force him you will make him take the love and care he deserves

Cue you pushing him back into a chair as he tries to get up. And climbing on top lining up to the spot. “Your going to listen to me. Tonight I want two things. Your obedience and your cum. Do you hear me.” Grinding your ass down into him nipping at his ear as you whisper. Knowing it may shock him normally you wait for his signal to get in control but you know he needs it. And your more then happy to accept both things from him.

You pull so much pleasure from him pushing him aorund when he tries to do anything but sit back and take your love. Holding him down nipping or grabbing at his hands if they try and work too hard your aggressive with it but you know he loves both pleasure and pain that you give him and he’s a whimpering mess by the end both covered and sticky but you want one more “one more my good boy I know. You got a little more in you. Cum deep in me. One more and I promise you can pleasure me too” thay final promise gets him he’s spent but even so blissed out from it all he wants you.

As he finishes and you roll off him equally tired and proud to take care of him he just rolls over cleaning up as much of his cum off you finally begging so sweetly to taste you that you give in and let him still puling at his hair and praising him as he eats you up.

I’ve written a few now but don’t have a Mat nsfw blog so I may just start signing as 🪷

I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG! You have really been waiting an eternity, so I tried to do your thot justice. I hope I didn't disappoint you. (Also, definitely saving 🪷 for you in case you ever decide to slide some more thots into my inbox!)

Tbf I thought your scenarios couldn’t get much better than the last few, but I was gravely mistaken. I am spiraling over here. The pictures you put in my head, I–

Honestly, I thought there was not much I could add to this because it’s already juicy enough, but I did end up playing around with it a bit. I hope you don’t mind.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x afab!Reader (otherwise no gendered pronouns)

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v, creampie, sub!Matt, praise kink, oral f!receiving, and other sexy stuff mentioned above

Smut under the cut. 18+ MINORS DNI!

The pads of his rough fingers rub slow circles over your swollen clit. Your slick walls clench around nothing, and it’s torture every single time his touch on the sensitive bundle of nerves sends shockwaves through your body.

Matt kisses from your lips to your jaw and down your neck. He has been on you ever since he came home from work. Everyone seems to need him lately, and he doesn’t know how or when to stop. It’s work, it’s the city, and it’s you. He’s so busy, he forgets that he isn’t an invincible machine.

In bed, he has been the most loving partner. That never changes. When he has set his mind on something, he finishes it with the utmost care. His performance isn’t your issue, not at all, it’s the fact his performance is centered solely around you that irks you. He puts your pleasure first every night, not allowing himself to come until he’s buried deep inside of you, and even then he holds back. He fucks you into the mattress until you can’t see straight anymore, but only in the way you want him to.

Every night, he rips countless orgasms from your body, leaving his mark on your skin and inside of you. Sometimes it feels like he sees it as a chore he needs to finish, setting his own needs aside. But not being able to give him back even an ounce of what he is giving you leaves the pleasure with a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. It makes you feel guilty. He’s doing it because he wants to, but Matt doesn’t know how or where to draw the line sometimes. He thinks he wants to do something even though it’s more of a feeling of obligation rather than an actual desire. He has been hurt so many times, you can’t blame him for being who he is, but it’s frustrating when you want to help him out of whatever hole he fell into this time, and he refuses to take your hand.

So, you need to push him. You need to slap him awake and prove to him that he matters, too. You would never force him to do anything he doesn’t want to do, but he needs a little push from time to time because if you don’t coax him in the right direction, he will run himself dry.

Matt never asks for what he needs because he can’t allow himself to come first—both in life and in bed—but that selflessness tends to cause more destruction than it does anyone any good, especially him.

He’s back at it again tonight.

Matt smelled your arousal thick in the air the second he came home from work, his shoulders tense with the stress he had been bottling up for weeks. The scent knocked him right off his feet, your cunt already wet just from the thought of him—of what you are going to do to him—and he instantly started to spiral.

The soft welcome home kiss you pressed to his lips quickly turned into something more as desperation began to take over, and he once again made it his mission to make you come before he could even take his clothes off.

Tonight though, you won’t let him get so far, no matter how much he tries. And he always tries hard. If Matt Murdock is anything, it is determined.

You try to break through the haze of pleasure he pulls you under with every stroke of his fingers. It’s like you’re drowning. You’re not in control, but you need to grab a hold of the reins before your plan washes down the drain.

Your body burns brightly as it holds on to that last sliver of self-control. He reads your body like an open book, your curves the Braille he traces with his fingers, and he knows he is doing something right. Your body always betrays you. Your moans, your wetness, and your stiff nipples that are reaching up toward the ceiling are all clear signs that you are enjoying the way he’s touching you, and that spurs him on.

It’s so tough to resist him when he knows exactly how to play your body like a fucking fiddle. He knows how hard to press down on your clit and how fast to move his fingers to get you exactly where he wants you. To make you soak his fingers with your essence so he can lick it off and taste you.

He wants to make you come. He needs to. And him feeling like he needs to is the very thing that makes you snap out of it, finally.

You grab his wrist. His movements halt instantly, pulling his head away from your neck. “You alright?” he asks. “Did I hurt you?”

The lust in his eyes stems from a need to please. His cock is straining against his slacks, but his shoulders are so tense, you doubt he is enjoying this. Not like you are, at least. For someone who is barely holding on as it is, that must be so exhausting.

“I’m okay,” you whisper. “But you’re not.”

He stiffens. His unfocused eyes move wildly from one side to the other. He tilts his head, listening to your heartbeat, but there is nothing there but pure honesty.

You know. You always know.

Matt is about to object—pointlessly, may I add—but you push him off of you instead. You flatten your palms against his sturdy chest, urging him to get up. He doesn’t argue, he simply follows. A fog has settled over his senses to the point you consume him.

The puzzled look on his face is replaced by one of surprise when you push him backward rather forcefully toward the chair in the corner of your shared bedroom.

You take one of the hands flailing helplessly at his side, placing it on your hip. He needs something to hold onto, something to ground him. With the world on fire, every new situation becomes dangerous territory for him, and you don’t want him to stumble into a free fall of overstimulation down a bottomless pit.

Tonight, you want him to use his heightened senses on nothing but you, and for that, he needs to touch you. He needs to know you’re right there and not going anywhere. Only then can he allow himself to lose control.

“Sweetheart, what’re you–” Matt stumbles over his words, his chest heaving with every labored breath he inhales.

You place your index fingers against his swollen lips. “Stop.” Your hot cunt hovers dangerously close above his crotch as you straddle him, and he makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat. “Stop focusing on me and let me help you,” you whisper against him. “Please.”

He tastes you in every corner of his mouth when you kiss him. He can feel you in his soul, calloused fingers digging into your hips in an attempt to find something to hold onto to stop himself from falling. But you’re powerful; you’re a dangerous force to reckon with. He can’t say no because the little voice in his head that isn’t wired to self-sabotage his pleasure is calling for him to let go. To let you take over. To let you consume him, swallow him, and never let him go. Matt wants to tie himself to you with the invisible string that has wrapped around his neck like a noose and stay that way, even if it kills him.

You force his chin up to level his eyes with yours. He can feel your gaze burning holes through his sensitive skin, the scent of burning flesh filling his nostrils but it’s not real. You’re real, and your hands are real, but him burning… that is not real, even when it feels that way.

Before, when you took control, he was still in charge. Secretly. He gave you the reins but he was still pulling from the other side. Because Matt Murdock does not know how to let himself go. Not usually.

When you rode him, he would keep his hands on your thighs as you bounced on his cock. You didn’t mind it. Tonight though, this is far from what you want to happen.

“Tonight I want two things,” you tell him then, nipping at his ear. “Your obedience and your cum. Can you give me that, baby? Can you be good for me and let me take care of you?”

His cue comes in the form of the faintest nod.

You spend what feels like an eternity riding him, his thick cock buried between your tight, wet walls. Your lips caress his skin with a featherlight touch. The other hand—the one that isn’t busy feeling him stretch you out as you rub your clit with abandon, not wanting him to lift a single finger—roams his chest. You glide your fingers through the sheen of sweat that is glistening on his beautiful, milky skin. You dig your finger into it, and the moan it elicits from him is so delicious.

He can’t do anything but sit back and take your love. Your punishment. Everything you are willing to give him. You rock back and forth, lifting your hips every so often until only his tip remains inside. It drives him crazy, every inch of him so sensitive from the sheer agony of feeling you around him.

His pulse quickens. You can feel his heart pounding under your hand, his temple pressed against yours as your sweat mingles with the wetness of your cunt and the cum from all the orgasms you have already pulled from him.

“Please,” he’s begging you, but he isn’t sure what for.

Matt clings to you, nails dragging over your bare back, lips chasing to catch your nipple. He feels so useless, unable to give you the pleasure he wants because you are so focused on him. So focused on his cock and giving him what he needs. Making him come over and over again, cleaning around him and milking him dry, but never letting up. You turn the pain of overstimulation into pleasure. The world turns quiet under the beating of your heart in his ears, and the scent of you soaking the hairs in his nose to the point he knows he will take you with him to the grave.

He whimpers. “Please,” again, he pleads and begs.

You tangle your fingers in his locks, pulling him closer to kiss him. “I know,” you coo. “Just give me one more. Fill me up one more time and I promise, you can make me come as often as you want.”

“You promise?” he chokes out. The soft baritone of his voice wavers, and you dig your teeth into his bottom lip. Copper explodes on your tongue. He moans.

“I promise,” you repeat. “Come again f’me, baby. I’ve got you.”

He is so spent, but for you, he would steal the stars. All he wants is you. His balls tighten in response to your words, his body chasing yours and the high that threatens to take him under and drown him. You’re every-fucking-where. His hips jerk, but you keep him weighed down right where he is. He’s so painfully hard and full and needy, even though you have tortured him for hours by now. You move once, twice, and even a third time before the wave crashes in.

You hold him to you, your own body shaking as he fills you up for what feels like the hundredth time. His breath comes in labored spurts, his cum leaking out of you and staining his sturdy thighs with a cocktail of you both.

His nails move from your back to your ass, anchoring himself to something, anything, to make it through this. His teeth find their way home on your shoulder, biting down just enough to send a thrill of pain straight to your core, and your walls tighten around his overly sensitive cock. He doesn’t let go of you though. His orgasm drags on for an eternity, and he lets it happen. Oh, you’re so proud of him. He hardly ever lets you take care of him like that, fucking him senseless until he can’t think straight anymore—until the world disappears and it’s just the two of you; no responsibilities just sex.

“That’s it,” you murmur. “Such a good boy. Did so well f’me. I’m so full. Gonna feel you for days.”

Something snaps in his very tired self at your talk. He rolls you off of him. “You promised,” is all he says.

You blink up at him, tired and satisfied and covered in cum, but oh so proud of the privilege he granted you, seeing him like this and taking care of him. He doesn’t like to be vulnerable unless it’s with you, and even then he is reluctant. He has always been this way, but it would never make you love him any less.

With a sigh, you spread your legs. “I promised,” you agree. “And you’ve been such a good, good boy. You deserve it.”

His swollen lips travel over your heated skin like dripping wax. The hairs on your body reach toward the ceiling. You gasp, softly, feeling him inch closer to your core, yet taking his time exploring you. Touching you. He’s a man on a mission again, though this time you do not stop him.

One brush of his lips against your clit, and your back arches toward him. You pull at his hair, falling victim to the force of his silver tongue. In the end, he owns your body, your pleasure, and your orgasms in a way no one could ever live up to, and he always will.

He is your world, you are his, and if you didn’t have each other, neither of you would no longer have a reason to breathe.

Matt Murdock (Smut) Tag List: @shouldbestudying41 @theradioactivespidergwen @cheshirecat484 @1988-fiend @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-girl-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart

#🪷 anon #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #request #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x afab!reader #daredevil #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #charlie cox

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 1 year ago

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blank space - m. murdock

a/n: uhm... this one is dedicated to my friend arin who doesn't like daredevil but is encouraging me to be more unhinged. i hope you guys enjoy because i had a blast writing this. possible part two in the works, please like and reblog with comments and feedback <3 warnings: i cannot emphasize this enough-- DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT there is so little comfort to all of this hurt. matt is abusive and mean and reader is tortured and quiet and readers dad is an addict and a gambler and also stabbing, cursing, talking about fucking, sub/dom dynamics, nicknames, fem reader, lmk if i missed any! word count: 3.5k summary: Your dad makes your life horrible. Matt can make it worse. paring: dark!matt murdock x reader now playing: blank space (taylor's version) - taylor swift "so it's gonna be forever/or it's gonna go down in flames?/you can tell me when it's over/if the high was worth the pain"

You never meant to get involved with him.

Really, it wasn’t anything you did.

As usual, it came back around to your father, who had a bad gambling problem, as well as a substance issue, and would often be tempted to gamble big prizes for things like coke or heroin. He would bet money, college funds, heirlooms, your house.

But of course, he couldn’t pay these debts.

Your mom had been gone for quite some time, and you suspect this is where your fathers’ addictions stem from. But you’re trying to just make your way through your adult life. You had gone to a local college, unable to afford much else. Now, you worked in a dingy little office where they constantly abused your work ethic.

Between your grief, his constant betting on your lively hood, and your asshole boss, you felt your bones grow tired. Not the sort of tired that could be fixed by a good night’s sleep. The sort of tired that could be fixed by a new life, not that you had the means for that.

You think your mother would haunt you for the rest of your days if you abandoned your dad.

Friday night came, and you were ready to go home to the small apartment you shared with your father, and drink some wine, and get a nice sleep.

You had been told by your boss that you needed to stay late to translate paper files to the digital system. No, you would not be getting paid overtime.

It was dark by the time you finally left, your feet aching in your heels as you made your way through Hell’s Kitchen, wanting to get home so as not to start crying on the streets of New York.

You don’t make it home.

As you turn the corner by your block, you notice a van creeping up on you. How long had it been following you? If you weren’t so tired, maybe you would know.

But the van pulled up next to you, and you did the only thing you could in this situation. You started to run.

Only, you made it about ten feet before you twisted your ankle with these stupid fucking heels. As you fall, you let out a cry of pain, and before you can think, two men are outside the van. They grab you by the arms and pull you into the van, the whole time you struggle.

Someone puts a black hood over your head and wraps duct tape around your hands. Your ankle is fucking aching.

You aren’t sure how long you drive for, but someone is then pulling you out of the van and drags you along. They give you an opportunity to walk but your ankle hurts to the point where you can’t walk.

They drag you again, and your foot is dragging, and holy shit, you can’t believe that your biggest concern while being kidnapped is how much your ankle hurts.

Eventually, hood on your head still, you are sat in a chair. Your hands are untied, and you want to jump up and fight, but you know your ankle won’t help you here.

They quickly tie your hands back to the chair, with rope this time. Whoever ‘they’ are.

You’re starting to have trouble breathing, because you’re realizing what sort of situation, you’re in right now.

You’ve been kidnapped for something; you have to assume in some way that it’s to get back at your father.

The hood is pulled off your head, and your eyes take a moment to adjust.

The room you’re in is dark, dingy. You know there’s two people behind you, big enough to carry you. You can hear water outside the room, assuming you’re in an abandoned office by the docks. Then, there’s three people in front of you.

One is a man, with long blond hair. He wears a nice suit and is just standing in front of the door. Another is a woman, with even longer blond hair and she also dons rather luxurious apparel. Your dirty work clothes make you look meager next to her.

The last is a man with dark hair. He wears a simple, rather expensive suit, and red glasses.

If you weren’t on the verge of a meltdown, you’d probably realize how hot he is.

Oh, he also holds a knife.

The blond man talks first.

“So. Do you want to start, or should we?”

“What?” Your ankle throbs.

“I guess we should, then.” He hums. “Do you have five grand worth of heroin on you, dear?”

You could throw up.

“I—”

“No, of course you don’t. You and your boyfriend probably used it all.”

What is he talking about? Now, on top of being in pain and panicked, you’re confused.

“The man you live with?” The woman finally speaks. “I assume you two used all the heroin he stole.”

You realize she means your father. You realize that your father stole five grand worth of heroin. What else did he steal?

“What else does he owe?”

“No, darling,” she scoffs, “We ask, you answer.”

“I don’t do heroin.”

“So, how do you know he owes us more?”

“Took a wild fucking guess.” You spit. “Figured you wouldn’t kidnap someone over five grand, figure money is no object.”

The man with the knife steps out of the shadows. Your heartbeat races, and he chuckles. He crouches in front of you.

“You’re a spitfire. I like that. In fact, I love that in a woman, don’t I, Foggy?” He turns his head back slightly.

Foggy answers.

“That you do, man.”

His head turns back to you. But you get the impression by his glasses that he can’t see. So how is he looking right at you?

“If you give us some sort of sass like that again, I’ll stab you and make sure you feel every second of pain.” You whimper, and he laughs again. “Not so cocky anymore, are we, sweetheart?” He stands and goes behind you, his arms landing on the outside of your own, caging you in. He leans down and whispers in your hear, “Is this.. turning you on, sweetheart?”

You don’t answer.

“Answer me.”

“No.”

“Liar.” He whispers back, the knife gracing over your ear. He cuts your ear just enough to make it bleed, and tears slip down your face. He makes his way back to the front of you and crouches again. “I’ll ask you again. How do you know he owes me more?”

“I figured he would, when gamblers start, they don’t stop.”

“Not only did you lie to me again, you also just gave yourself away. Lie to me again and I hurt you worse.”

Your foot that isn’t hurt goes up and kicks him in the face. At least it tries, because his reaction is too quick, and he grabs your ankle.

“Bad, bad girl.” He tuts. He lets go of your leg and picks up your other leg, the one with the bruising, swollen ankle. You start to shake. His hand squeezes the wound and when you yell in pain, he just coos at you. “Aw, does that hurt, sweetheart?”

You’re busy crying.

“Answer me!” He demands. It shakes you to your core. You realize you do not know who you’re dealing with, and you’re even angrier at your father for jeopardizing you like this.

“Yes!” You sob, and this seems to satisfy him. He takes the knife in his other hand and slowly cuts open your stocking, loving the way you’re shaking with fear.

“Keep moving and you’ll cut yourself.”

You try to calm yourself down, on the verge of a panic attack. The knife grazes your leg, and he starts to focus in on your thigh, twisting the knife around your skin.

“How do you know him?” he asks. And you aren’t sure why you try it. You don’t know how he knows when you lie.

“I’ll find a way to pay you back, just let me go, I promise, I’ll tell you where he is, just—”

Then you feel it.

The knife pierces your thigh and is lodged into your leg. You scream in pain, gripping the arms of the chair. Fuck, it hurts. Your vision blurs, and you’re unsure whether it’s from pain or from your tears.

He stands up in front of you, ignoring the stares from Karen and Foggy. He knows he might have gone a step too far for someone he’s pretty sure is innocent in all this. But he can’t help himself. He likes hearing you wither in pain, and he likes being the person administering the pain. He has all these things he’s in control of, but at this moment, no one else is in the room. It’s you and him, in a rather intimate moment.

He pats your chin, “C’mon, focus, right here, sweetheart. Tell me the truth and I make the pain go away.” He tells you, breaking through the wall of pain and fear that blocks your ability to think.

“He’s my father!” You finally cry out. It comes out as if you’re yelling in church, screaming to God a confession you can’t bear anymore. The only thing missing is your position on your knees, but being below this man like this is as close to an altar as you can see yourself being. “I know he has a gambling problem, and I know he has a drug problem but that’s it! I don’t know anything else, I just lost the parent roulette, okay?!” Your words come gasped out, in between sobs and when you’re not too distracted with your pain.

He seems to be satisfied with this. He gets back down, closer to the ground. Now he’s the one at the altar, but the devil has no place in a church, only between your thighs. He tilts his head and kisses the inside of your thigh.

“See? Good girls get rewards.” Bad girls get stabbed. He stands up, and with him, he pulls at the knife. Blood gushes as you cry out in pain again, sure he'll leave you to bleed out, to be fed on by rats.

He drops the knife at your feet and adjusts his tie.

“What should we do with her, boss?”

“Go get her father.” He says, “But don’t let her go just yet. I’d like to keep her a while.” You think you’ll be sick. “Knock her out though, we don’t want her knowing where she is.” That’s the last thing before the butt of a gun meets your head.

It’s a nice relief from the pain.

• • •

You wake up on a bed with silk sheets. It’s almost nice enough for you to forget about the whole situation. Maybe your whole life has been a dream, and really, you’re a rich housewife for a man who loves you deeply and your mom is still alive.

But then you sit up, and your stockings are ripped, and your heels are gone.

A brace wraps around your hurt ankle. A bandage wraps around your thigh. The pain isn’t there anymore, you’re not sure what drugs have been given to you.

The room is rather barren, you realize, with little to no works of art or even photos, and it’s rather dark. It’s also freezing cold, a central air system whirling around you. You wonder, if you’re a prisoner, then why put you in a room like this?

What is happening?

The door opens and immediately you went to defend yourself, though there were no weapons around you.

The man from the night before steps into the room, and he looks... casual. He wears dark jeans and a tee shirt, his glasses discarded. Bandages wrapped around his knuckles.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” You don’t respond, just stare at him. “I’m Matt.”

You stay quiet.

“You’re not being tortured anymore, honey. If you want, you can lie and be mean now, I don’t bite. Not anymore. Not unless you want me to.”

“I’m Matt.” You repeat, unable to believe it. “You stab me in the leg and kidnap me, and you go as casual as ‘I’m Matt’?” He grins.

“I told you; I love a woman with some fire.” You wonder how many times he’s used that line on people. “Telling them they’re beautiful just doesn’t hit the same way when you’re blind.” He says, going over to a door, and when he opens it, you realize it’s a closet.

“I want nothing to do with you.”

“No?” He turns to you, and smiles. He says your name. How does he know it? “You went to college for Marketing, cute. No siblings. Your mom died a few years ago, after a long battle with cancer. I’m sorry.” This sounds sincere. “You were engaged once, but he cheated on you and is now married to the other woman.” And he goes back to stinging. “Your father, I know all about him. David is an addict and a gambler. Now, addict, I could deal with. Addiction runs deep but it can be managed. It’s the gambling that frustrates me, and Sweetheart, If I’m frustrated, you must be riled up. He gambles everything, I should know. He gambles it to Foggy, who shares it with me.” He hums. He picks clothes out of the closet and heads back to you, “The pants are your size, but the shirt is mine.” He tells you, laying the clothes out in front of you. “Don’t worry about me watching, or anything.” It’s almost enough to make you smile.

You get changed, the challenge of slipping into the slightly lose jeans the hardest part. The bandage fits right in there, but even whatever pain meds have been given to you, aren’t enough.

“So, your father,” You groan, your face in your hands. You get it, your father is awful, and he hates him, but you know that your father is awful, and you know that you hate him. Why must he keep involving you? “I know, sweetheart, you’re in pain, and you hate him, but just stay with me on this.” he says, a cooing tone to his voice. You don’t know why, but you’re compelled to listen to him. “Your father forces you to live in this small apartment, because you’re the only one who works, and he always manages to find your money to gamble away. But it’s not just the money, it’s your electronics, your nice shoes, any pills you have in the house. And really, by doing all this, he is gambling you. Because not only is he risking not being able to pay his debts and someone taking you, but you’re tired. Aching for absolution that will never come. But the worst part is that even though all this stems from his grief around your mom, he gambled her wedding and engagement rings, the one you were always told you’d be proposed with.”

Tears well your eyes.

“Please, stop.”

He sits next to you on the bed, and you don’t have the energy to move away from him. In fact, you lean against him ever so slightly. He must know it too, you figure, since he can tell when you’re lying and when your heartbeat races. He’s warmer than you imagined. He’s a beacon of warmth in this cold, dim room.

He takes something out of his pocket, and then drops it into your hands. It’s a necklace, just a simple chain. Three things hang on it. A silver charm with an ‘M’ on it, and two rings. Your mom’s engagement ring, and her wedding band. You thought you’d never see it again, not after you came home and went to your jewelry box only to find out from your dad that he had lost it in a poker match a few weeks before.

You clutch the necklace in your hands.

“M for Matt?”

“Or Murdock, whatever you’d like.”

“You’re in charge, right? Just how in charge are you?”

“I run everything. There isn’t a corner of this city that I don’t have men in.” So, he’s the kingpin. The boss. Matt Murdock, a man feared by all, gentle to only you. Only for this moment.

“You’re not going to let me go, are you?”

“Bun, I was never going to let you go. But I don’t think you want to leave, either.”

You stay quiet. You can’t run. He made sure of that. Was he always going to stab you? Had he decided that from the moment he heard you whimper or was it your reaction to his pet names that did you in?

His fingers come up to graze your ear gently, but you flinch, since it’s where he had cut you.

“Bunnies are always so sensitive to the ears. Fragile. It’s not like you can hop away. Besides, you need time to heal, and I could take away all the pain. No more mean fathers, no more mean bosses, and no more mean thoughts.” He says gently. “I could put you back together.”

His voice is soft, as if his intentions are as well, but you’re sure he’ll destroy you. He will not put you back together, only break you down, collecting tiny pieces of you for his collection.

You consider it. You would never have to work again. You would never have to do anything again. You would never have to see your father again.

You turn your head, and nod.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll stay.” It wasn’t as if you had a choice in the matter. But nonetheless, He grins, and takes the necklace from you, only to wrap it around your neck, and clasp it on.

Despite the rings being something you had longed for, the ‘M’ alone weighs on you like a boulder.

He tilts your head gently, his fingers brushing against your chin, and you look away, ashamed of what you have done. He grabs your chin and keeps you looking at him. He leans forward and for a moment you just stay, feeling his hot breath against your lips. Tears escape from your eyes and run down your cheeks. He tuts softly and kisses your cheeks where the tears lie.

“Sh, Sh.. It’s okay, sweetheart,” he comforts. His other hand trails down to your thigh, where two of his fingers find the stab wound, and push into it. You whimper in pain, grasping his wrist. He sighs deeply, “Pretty noises.” He hums. “I would never deny you anything, bun. But if you deny me what I ask, it won’t end well for you. Understand?”

You nod, but when you aren’t verbal, he pushes down harder, the bandage and his fingers soaking with blood.

“Tell me. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand, Matt.” You manage to whimper out. He takes his fingers away and kisses your cheek.

“Good. Good job, honey.” He says softly, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and licking your blood off them. “Sweet, sweet girl.”

He leans forward and kisses you, and it’s full of a gentleness you weren’t sure he was capable of. You kiss back, afraid of what he’ll do if you deny him again.

He winds up kissing you to sleep, not mad at you for falling tired as you kiss. You lay with him in these silk sheets, freezing cold as you cuddle into him. He relishes being wanted. You accept that this is love. He feels you shivering and pulls you closer.

His hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tickling the bottom of your torso. You whine when he does this, burying your head in the crook of his neck. He laughs, kissing your head.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I’ll buy you blankets. Blankets, Diamonds, anything you want.” He tells you. You’re tired. You just want to nap. You want him to give you more of the drugs that dull the pain of your thigh, and you want to eat something homemade that you didn’t cook yourself.

You want to give in and remain thoughtless. Just be happy with him since no one is looking for you anyways.

But as you drift off to sleep, feeling his hands crawl along your skin, you begin to plan. You’ll let him think you’re in love with him. You’ll let him love you, fuck you, put you back together. You’ll be his bunny, his arm candy, his toy to dress up and do whatever the fuck he wants. You’ll let him think he owns you.

He’ll know that he does.

And you’ll become close to his friends too. You’ll dress in pretty dresses, and he’ll pretend he’s oblivious to how much everyone wants you.

And then, when your wounds heal, you’ll run.

You’ll flee the country, you’ll change your name, dye your hair.

But you don’t yet realize how relentless he is. How deeply enamored of you he is. By how determined he is to have you.

Escaping the devil will not be as easy as you think it might, not when he can hear your heartbeat, not when he can smell you, not when he wants you.

And it doesn’t help when he gives you the honor of killing your father.

That’s when you start to fall in love with him.

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year ago

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Falling For the Devil [Part eighty-seven: "The Week of Distractions"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Matt spend your first week living together and quickly find out just how distracting you both are to each other.

Or Lots of sex ensues.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 17.9k (yes, you read that right)

a/n: This installment is just smut. Lots of it. I'll mention there's Dom/Sub undertones, rough sex, and face-fucking in this installment (let me know if anything else might need to be noted). We do not get the full smut scenes because it's a smut montage and this would've gotten even more out of hand in length. I'd also like to thank @theetherealbloom for Monday's scene inspired by an ask! There is alternating POVs but I messed up and the last two are Reader (I was too tired to rewrite it at that point) and we get ALL the sides of Matt in here plus Spicy Reader. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @lina-mar @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle

Saturday

Matt’s fingers ran over the braille reader as he sat at the kitchen table, rereading a file on his laptop. Foggy had emailed him a handful of files yesterday morning before they’d left the office early to help you unpack and move into his place. Matt hadn't planned on looking at them over the weekend, he didn't think he’d have a chance to work on them until he was back in the office on Monday, but you’d been exhausted all morning today so Matt had suggested you take a nap after lunch. Which was what you were currently doing on the leather sofa nearby, his blanket draped over you.

You’d fallen asleep probably fifteen minutes ago now and Matt had quickly become very absorbed in the case he was working on. It had truthfully been frustrating him, though. There were a few particular details that he couldn’t seem to make sense of no matter how hard he tried. He’d read them over and over, running a hand through his hair in frustration and quietly cursing to himself. He was about ready to pull up his email and send a message to Foggy when he heard you make a soft noise from over on the couch.

Matt’s hand hesitated on the braille reader, his ears perking up before his head turned in your direction. He hadn’t been paying much attention to your sleeping form over on the couch while he had been working, knowing how tired you’d been since it had taken you so long to finally relax and fall asleep last night. Though after his talk with you in the kitchen around three in the morning, he’d noticed your nerves had leveled back out to their usual state and stayed there. Which he assumed meant you’d finally calmed and were beginning to adjust to living together now.

But as he focused on you just to his left, he was almost instantly hit with the scent of your arousal in the air. Matt felt his cock twitch in his sweatpants in response. How had he not noticed it earlier? Admittedly it was very faint, likely because you’d only recently become turned on by whatever it was you were dreaming about–something Matt was rapidly becoming curious about.

As he tuned in closer to your body, he noticed your pulse was a little faster than usual when you were asleep. Even your breathing was hitching ever so slightly, something his ears were easily able to pick up on when he focused. No doubt you were dreaming about something sexual. That thought had Matt’s mind quickly shifting away from his work, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips.

It had been a few days since you’d both had sex–since Wednesday morning, to be exact. Right before he’d had to leave your place for work and you’d had to get ready for work yourself. Though Tuesday night had certainly been something at your place, but it had been the only time this week you and Matt had had sex. He’d been craving it–craving that connection with you again–which was probably why he’d been so overzealous Tuesday night and Wednesday morning, but he’d known you’d been stressed and busy this week with the move and hadn’t bothered to bring up sex since.

Matt’s eyes snapped shut the moment you made another noise. It was a soft hum that vibrated in the back of your throat, something that sounded like a muffled moan. Jaw clenched, Matt turned away from you in his chair and tried to focus back on his braille reader. It didn’t feel right that he was sitting here listening to you like this while you weren’t even awake.

For a few minutes he tried hard to ignore the growing scent of your arousal, but it was no longer just lightly wafting towards him. No, now the scent of it was beginning to hang heavy in the air around him. Not only that, but he’d heard the gentle rustle of fabric as your thighs involuntarily squirmed together in your sleep, which was clearly only further increasing Matt’s favorite smell through the apartment.

Hanging his head in his hands as he slumped over the kitchen table, he became achingly aware that he was already half hard. Would it be so wrong if he disappeared into the bedroom for a few minutes? Took care of himself while you were asleep? Would jerking off to the scent of you in the air really be that wrong?

Before he could come to a conclusion, he’d heard you lightly moan again. Except this time it was followed by the softest, pleasure-filled utterance of his name in your sleep. Matt’s eyes once again snapped shut before he pressed the heels of his palms against them.

This was sheer torture. Was it always going to be like this with you here now? With your arousal often coating the air around him, wonderfully suffocating him? He wasn’t sure he would survive that, not without constantly needing to fulfil the urge to either fuck you or bury his face in your cunt.

It didn’t help that he heard you calling his name again, the scent of you strong in his nose. With the heels of his hands still pressed against his closed eyes, his lips parted. Matt let the faint taste of you roll onto his tongue, a quiet whimper falling out of him as he heard you say his name again. His hips shifted on the chair, an uncomfortable feeling tightening in his gut. He needed to do something about his growing erection, there was no other option. But as he removed his face from his hands, he startled when he felt something touch his shoulder.

��Shit, sorry Matt!” you said, immediately withdrawing what was apparently your hand on him. “I was trying to get your attention for the past minute. You weren’t answering and you looked like you were in pain and I–”

He had turned towards you in the chair, hearing the way your words had cut off and your pulse had sped up when he did. No doubt you’d immediately noticed the tent of his sweatpants. Seconds later he heard you curse as you most likely pieced together why he was in his current state. And then immediately after that he swore he caught the spike in adrenaline in conjunction with the increase in that particular scent.

“Oh, I–I didn’t realize…” you trailed off.

Matt shot you a sheepish smile. “I guess this is something I didn’t exactly think about, either. Having you here all the time means you’re going to, well, become aroused at times and…that tends to have an effect on me. Obviously.”

Matt heard the way you were shifting back and forth on your feet in front of him, your lip slipping between your teeth. He wished it was his teeth gnawing on the soft flesh instead of yours–and that thought didn’t help his current situation.

“Do you…need to keep working?” you asked him carefully.

A slow smile slid across Matt’s mouth before he turned even further towards you in the chair. “No,” he answered huskily. “I don’t need to work at all, actually. I was just keeping busy while you napped. Why, do you care to share what you were dreaming about?”

“Well,” you began, gradually lowering down to your knees before him, “I can show you what it was about, if you’d like?”

“Mmm,” Matt hummed out, enjoying the flirtatiousness in your tone as your hands landed on his thighs. “I would definitely like that.”

He felt your hands sensually slide up his thighs, the warmth of them lingering behind on his skin beneath his sweatpants and causing Matt’s cock to further strain against its confines uncomfortably. Your fingers curled around the waistband of both his sweatpants and boxers before gradually pulling them just halfway down his thighs. His hard cock sprang forth immediately, a faint sigh of relief falling out of him.

As your hands landed back on his now bare upper thighs, your fingers running through the hair along his legs, Matt’s ears picked up on the excited noise that you emitted ever so softly. It was so quiet he was sure you hadn’t even realized you had made it. Your breathing had picked up, too, coming in faster and heavier. His own heart accelerated in his chest at the sound of your tongue gliding along your lips hungrily as one of your hands made its way towards his cock.

You were becoming even more increasingly aroused now because you wanted to suck his cock–you were eager for it. Your body was practically screaming that at Matt. And that in itself was only further exciting him.

Your warm, soft hand gripped the base of him and Matt’s eyelids slowly fluttered closed at the contact. You had gripped him with the slightest of pressure and it had him desperate for more. He could tell how close your mouth had lowered to him, the heat of your breath falling over the sensitive skin of his cock with each exhale that passed between your plush lips. A moment later he felt the warm drip of your saliva land on the tip of him. Matt fought the urge to buck up into your hand as he impatiently waited for more, already longing to feel any part of you.

Fortunately you didn't keep him waiting much longer, either. Your hand slid up the length of him, coating his cock in your saliva with a few pumps of your fist around him. Then he felt your warm tongue lightly swipe over the head of his cock, swirling a few times around it. Behind his closed lids, Matt's eyes momentarily rolled back. His lips parted once again, the taste of your arousal still thick in the air as it landed along his tongue. He was practically salivating at the tangy sweetness of it.

"This is what you were dreaming about, sweetheart?" Matt breathed out, enjoying the feel of your tongue gradually licking up the length of him. "My cock in your mouth? That's what you wanted?"

Your mouth sucked the tip of him straight inside before you hummed out an affirmative noise to his question. The vibration from your mouth shot straight up through the length of him, a burst of pleasure racing through Matt’s entire body. He groaned low in response, the noise a deep rumble in his chest.

You had become exceptionally good at giving him head–honestly you'd become amazing at everything with him in the bedroom. Gradually he'd noticed that you had learned how to use his heightened senses to make him feel unbelievably good instead of accidentally overstimulating him. No one he'd ever been with before had been that perceptive of his body. No one had ever been so goddamn enjoyable to be with. But you were like this every damn time with him.

You sucked him further into your mouth, eager to take more of him already. Matt practically growled in response–you were unexpectedly enthusiastic this afternoon. His hand darted out, firmly gripping a fistful of your hair at the back of your head. His own head dropped back over his shoulders at the feel of your resulting moan in response to his grip, half of his cock in your mouth vibrating with the noise.

The sensation felt so fucking good that his hips involuntarily snapped a fraction forward, sending himself just a bit further into your mouth. He'd quickly tried to restrain himself, but he'd certainly caught the resulting hum of pleasure from you again immediately afterwards. He whined at the feel of it, a coiling pleasure building at the base of his spine. He had begun to tremble from the effort of holding himself back, refraining from accidentally fucking into your mouth again, not wanting to hurt you or push your boundaries.

A moment later he felt you gradually slip your mouth off of him, your hand soon taking over as his head rolled forward again. He was close to apologizing, wondering if he'd done something wrong, but the languid strokes of your hand up and down the shaft of him had his words slow to form. You’d spoken before he had a chance to, and what you said next had Matt already wanting to cum.

"You don't need to hold back, baby," you told him.

Your thumb ran over the head of him, the pad of it swiping over a particularly sensitive spot. Matt moaned out, a shudder running through his body. Fuck, were you really offering him that ?

"Are–are you sure?" Matt panted out. "We don't have to."

"Use me, Matt," you urged, thumb circling the tip of his cock again and causing Matt’s hips to squirm in the chair. "I want to try that with you."

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he breathed out, his other hand lightly grasping your chin, his thumb brushing over your dampened lips. “You’re really sure?”

Your lips wrapped firmly around his thumb, drawing it into your mouth as a hum of affirmation left you. Matt bit down hard on his own bottom lip when your tongue gently began to lap at the pad of his finger. How were you so good at this? At turning him on like this?

Your lips eventually released his finger, your mouth angling downwards to lightly place a kiss to the palm of his hand. And then you’d quickly maneuvered out of his grasp before sucking his cock hungrily back into your mouth. A flurry of curses flew out Matt in return, his hand gripping your hair tighter as you took him a little deeper. His abdominals tightened in pleasure at the feel of your warm mouth around him.

Carefully testing his boundaries, his hips ever so slightly rolled forwards up off the chair, his cock sinking deeper into your mouth. Your hands eagerly grasped onto his hips, an excited noise coming from your full mouth.

" Ahh –fuck–sweetheart," Matt hissed out, his words broken. "You really want me to–to fuck your mouth?"

You once again hummed out an affirmative noise along Matt's cock, the feel of it causing him to moan out in pleasure. Not needing any further encouragement, Matt’s other hand lowered to lightly grip you by the throat. The scent of you grew thicker in the air as Matt heard the way your thighs had pressed together, his ears picking up on the slight rocking of your hips as you searched for friction. That only turned him on more–because you were getting turned on by this.

When his hips rolled forward again, he could feel your throat relaxing as you took him deeper. A low, throaty groan fell out of Matt as his head fell completely over the back of the chair, his senses engulfed by you. Your nails further dug into his bare hips, encouraging him to fuck your eager mouth.

And Matt was all too happy to oblige as he fucked up into your mouth yet again, a hiss of pleasure sneaking past his gritted teeth.

Sunday

"Okay, so I've finally finished making a list and was about to run to the store for groceries for the week," you told Matt, making your way out of the bedroom as you skimmed over the list on your phone again. "Was there anything else you needed?"

Glancing up as you came to a stop just behind the leather couch, you saw Matt straighten back up from beside the dishwasher, the muscles of his upper torso flexing and pulling visibly as he moved. You hadn't expected him to still be shirtless after his shower, but he was wearing nothing but his sweatpants that were currently hanging low on his hips. His hair was still damp and clinging to his forehead, too.

Blinking hard, you tried to ignore the pleasant shock at finding Matt shirtless, damp, and doing the dishes. Though admittedly the sight had raised your body temperature just a bit, and judging by the cocky smile that slipped onto Matt’s face before he turned and headed over to the shelf to put away the plates in his hands, he’d noticed. Clearing your throat, you tried to focus back on your task of working on the grocery list for the week.

“Is there uh, anything else you would like me to pick up?” you asked.

“Oh, I think you know exactly what I would like,” Matt teased, turning back around to face you.

You swallowed hard, your eyes once again drawn up towards him from the phone you held in your hand. He was grinning back at you with a devious look in his eyes. Your mouth felt like it was going dry at the sight of him just standing there half-dressed in the kitchen. Internally you chastised yourself, because watching Matt put away a load of clean dishes with his shirt off and his hair damp shouldn’t have had this much of an effect on you, but it fucking did. And his usual teasing wasn’t helping at all.

“You–you, uh…” you began, but you quickly trailed off.

It was hard trying to focus on your words when your eyes were glued to his defined and toned chest as he made his way back to the dishwasher. Your eyes followed his movements as he bent over, intentionally turning so his ass was pointed straight at you. You watched as the fabric of his sweatpants pulled taut over it as he closed the dishwasher. Clearing your throat, you tried to focus again as he slowly rose back to his full height.

“I mean was there, uh something? You–you wanted?” you asked slightly breathless.

He chuckled, turning back towards you and leaning his arms over the kitchen countertop as his attention fixed on you. His head was tilted just a bit to the side, an amused smirk on his beautiful mouth.

“Trail mix, remember?” he replied, all faux innocence. “You know I love when you make it, sweetheart.”

“Right,” you said a little nervously, nodding as you glanced back down at your phone. “I’ll uh, I’ll add it to the list.”

Your fingers flew across the keypad on your phone as you added each ingredient of the trail mix Matt loved so much to the list. Though your fingers slowed their typing when you saw Matt push off of the countertop out of your peripheral. He was gradually making his way out of the kitchen and over towards you, your heart beating a little harder with each step he neared. Apparently it didn’t matter that you’d both just had sex yesterday afternoon after your nap because you found yourself quickly distracted from your typing because of his presence.

Matt stopped just in front of you, that cocky smile still on his face. He reached out and grabbed your phone, slowly sliding it out of your grip. You stood there dumbfounded, watching as he turned and effortlessly tossed your phone onto the kitchen table just to the side of him. When he turned back around, he placed one hand on either side of the leather couch, boxing you in between his arms.

“Something on your mind besides the grocery list, sweetheart?” he asked.

“What? No, I was just focused on getting the–the list together,” you replied quickly.

Matt shook his head, leaning forward towards your ear and whispering, “ Lie .”

You licked your lips, your eyes focused on his own lips with him suddenly standing so close to you. The hot breath from his mouth kept washing over yours as he continued to gaze down at you with that darkened, hungry stare of his.

“Well, I mean I was trying to focus on the list,” you conceded awkwardly, “but then you’re–you’re over in the kitchen making dishes somehow look weirdly sexy.” With a hard swallow you added, “And honestly that’s not fair, Matt. Putting away clean plates shouldn’t look so good.”

Matt’s bottom lip slipped between his teeth as he grinned back at you in amusement. The sight alone of him shirtless like that, so close to you while he caged you between those powerful arms of his, had you wanting to lunge at him. To crush your mouth to his and beg him to fuck you. You did your best to refrain though.

“I could tell you were enjoying yourself,” he teased. “But it seems now you might need a little–” he paused, leaning over to whisper in your ear again, “– help before you go to the store.”

Eyes widening back at him, you were about to open your mouth and respond, but then he abruptly turned his face towards yours and dove forward, pressing his lips to yours. Taken by surprise, it took you a moment to react. But when his teeth bit gently down onto your lower lip and tugged, your hands flew up and grabbed onto his broad shoulders, nails digging into his bare skin.

Matt grunted in response before he released your lip, his hands landing on your hips and gripping them firmly. Effortlessly he spun you around, your back now facing him as your own hands flew out, grasping onto the back of the couch to balance yourself at the unexpected movement. Looking at Matt over your shoulder, you spotted that lustful look spread across his face.

“What’re you doing, Matty?” you asked curiously.

He pressed himself to the back of you and you immediately felt his half-hard cock against your ass. Your cunt clenched tight around nothing instantly and his fingers dug into your hips over your shirt as if he knew.

“Bend over, sweetheart,” Matt ordered. “Bend over the couch, for me.”

Inhaling a shaky breath, your attention returned to the couch before you. Slowly you leaned over it, the backrest pressing against your abdomen. You rested your hands on a cushion, trying to hold yourself up. Seconds later you felt Matt’s arms wrap around your waist, his fingers deftly undoing the button of your jeans before lowering your zipper. Soon after, he was tugging your pants and underwear down your thighs and then slipping them entirely off of you. Goosebumps rose along your now bare lower half just before you felt Matt’s rough, warm hands lovingly smoothing their way along the backs of your thighs.

“You can’t get enough of me, can you?” Matt asked from just behind you.

One of his hands made their way between your thighs, lightly teasing a finger between your dampening folds. Your hips twitched in response, your body instinctively asking him for more. Matt hummed out a pleased noise.

“I”ll never have enough of you,” you whispered back.

“That’s my girl,” Matt praised quietly.

The pad of his index finger began rubbing gently against your clit, the sensation immediately causing your eyes to snap shut. You were vaguely aware of his other hand leaving your thigh, your focus mainly on what his fingers were doing to you. But soon you felt the telltale weight of Matt’s cock landing against your ass and you gasped in delighted surprise.

“Should I fuck you before you go to the store, sweetheart?” Matt asked. “Would you like that? For me to fill you with my cum before you pick up the groceries for our place?”

You whined in response, desperately trying to press yourself back into him the best you could in this position. Because yes, you absolutely wanted that. To feel the pleasant ache of your cunt after he’d fucked you so thoroughly while you wandered the produce aisle. Having the memory of his hands and his mouth on you like a brand against your skin as you filled the cart with the groceries you’d both be sharing this week. Something about that had you dying to feel him inside of you, filling you so well like he always did.

“Yes, Matty, please,” you whimpered.

Both of his hands grasped onto your thighs, sliding you a little more forward over the couch. You instantly sunk down onto your forearms along the couch cushion before you, your head turning over your shoulder to where he was standing behind you. From what you could see of Matt, he’d pushed his sweatpants and boxers partway down his thighs. Your eyes lingered on his face and the way his brows were pinched together, his nostrils flaring as he swiped his cock back and forth between the slick that had very quickly accumulated between your folds. He looked absolutely pleased as he did, his tongue darting out for a moment to dampen his lips.

Soon you felt him lining himself up with your entrance, and when just the tip of him gradually entered you, you gasped out. Head falling forward, it dropped between your shoulders as you felt Matt continue to slowly ease himself inside of you until he was fully sheathed, entirely filling you up. With your hips a bit higher above you, raised by the backrest of the leather couch that you were draped over, you wrapped your legs around Matt’s waist to help balance yourself.

Still fully sheathed inside of you, Matt just held himself there. He didn’t make any attempt to fuck you at all. It was a moment before you became desperate for more, your hips squirming needily as you made a noise of frustration. Matt’s right hand continued to grip your right thigh as his left hand began gliding back and forth along your lower back. The feel of it sent a shudder through you.

“You want more, sweetheart?” he asked.

“ Yes ,” you begged.

“Mmm,” Matt hummed out, clearly pleased at how badly you already needed him. “Then you’re going to have to fuck yourself on my cock, sweet girl.”

You perked up at his words, your head slightly raising at what he’d just said. A rumbling chuckle fell out of him behind you at your reaction.

“Go on, sweetie,” he urged huskily. “Use me. Fair is fair, right?”

For a moment you were stunned, continuing to lay immobile in the position you were in over the back of the couch. But you quickly found yourself becoming impatient, wanting more than just the fullness of him inside of you.

Slowly you began to move your hips, arching your back just enough until you felt Matt's cock almost slipping out. You rolled your hips roughly back into him, taking him fully inside of you in one swift, delicious movement. A soft cry of pleasure flew out of you at the feel as you did it again, quickly increasing your pace as your breath came in sharper. You heard Matt moan behind you, both of his hands firmly gripping your thighs.

"That's it," he encouraged, his own breaths growing ragged. "Take what you need, sweet girl. I'm all yours."

Monday

Matt was exhausted as he stood in the elevator waiting for it to slowly ascend to the top floor of his apartment building. He absently twirled his cane between both hands, his posture reflecting just how tired he was as his shoulders slumped forward a bit. His focus was admittedly not even on the space around him, but on you up in the apartment as he waited.

He’d told you that he’d be home late this evening because he, Foggy, and Karen had been working on a case. The three of them had been close to finally finding the break they needed and none of them had wanted to stop until they’d found it. Truthfully he’d expected it to take longer than it had, so Matt had given you a later time to expect him home and begged you not to wait for him for dinner. But thankfully they’d finished a little bit ago and Matt hadn’t wanted to linger around the office afterwards. Figuring he’d surprise you at home a little earlier than intended, he hadn’t given you a call to let you know he was on his way back when he’d left.

Which was why he was delighted to hear you were up in the apartment making dinner. And by the sounds of what he could hear–the pop music you were currently blaring on your phone in conjunction with your slightly elevated heart rate–you must have been dancing while you were cooking. Probably because you’d thought he wasn’t around to ‘see’ you doing it.

He grinned at that thought, wondering how adorably embarrassed you might become when he came through the front door and surprised you. He even had already thought of a way to tease you, hoping to hear your heart beat erratically in your chest and to feel the heat of your cheeks as you flushed. He would never stop loving the way your body reacted to him.

And over the past few days, Matt had absolutely loved having you at what had now become both of yours’ place, watching as you slowly began to settle in and grow comfortable in the space. Besides the fact that it seemed like your sex lives had become somehow even more active than before, he’d loved the little moments with you. Making dinner together over the weekend before cleaning up the dishes, playfully teasing each other and sharing lingering touches while you did. He loved coming back from his nights out as Daredevil to you curled up on the sofa wrapped in his blanket waiting for him. Both times when he had come back he’d hurried over to you, excitedly kissing you before he quickly stripped out of the suit so he could cuddle up with you for a few minutes before he carried you off to bed.

And now he was coming home to you after a stressful day at work, excited that you were already here–and making dinner for the both of you. It thrilled Matt to know that you didn’t have to rush back to your apartment for anything ever again. Because you were always here with him. At home. And that thought had his own heart beating a little harder.

When the elevator doors opened, Matt didn’t hesitate to make his exit. His cane tapping along the floor, he made the familiar trek down the hallway back towards his apartment, a wide grin on his face as he focused on you inside. It smelled like you were making spaghetti and Matt’s stomach growled; he hadn’t really ate much for lunch earlier today, having been too busy with the case. He certainly was grateful you were making dinner.

Reaching the apartment door, he opened it, not surprised to find it unlocked despite how many times he’d told you to lock it when he wasn’t home. The grin briefly faltered on his face–he’d have to remind you about that again . But as he pushed the door open, he was immediately hit with the overpowering smell of your pheromones. It was so thick in the air that Matt had paused, frozen entirely on the spot just in the hallway.

Because of course with your elevated heart rate in a hot kitchen you’d be sweating just a bit, which in turn would increase your pheromones. It made sense. You were cooking pasta sauce on the stove, a pot of water boiling beside it, and it felt like you had the oven on. And you were, in fact, dancing in the kitchen. Which initially he’d found sweet and endearing, but with the scent of your pheromones heavy in the air and the sexual lyrics coming out of your phone, the way your hips were shaking in the kitchen right now had suddenly become something else to Matt.

Stepping into the apartment, he closed the door behind himself and made sure to lock it. He hung his cane up on the hook nearby first, his heart pounding harder in his chest as he heard the shift in the air around you in the kitchen. God, the way you were moving your hips with your lip caught between your teeth was drawing forth a reaction from himself that he had not anticipated.

Quickly slipping out of his shoes, he stuffed them under the nearby bench before he briskly made his way down the entryway hall. Considering you weren’t expecting him home yet, your music was fairly loud, and you were currently focused on the stove as you continued to dance, you hadn’t noticed him come in. Matt wasn’t surprised by that.

And he didn’t want to alert you to his presence quite yet either. He wanted to continue to enjoy the seductive way you were moving without you noticing him for just a bit longer. He figured this wasn't something he would get to witness often.

Slowly he slipped the strap of his briefcase over his head before tossing it onto the sofa, his focus never wavering from you. He made his way over to the kitchen, pausing just in the entrance of it. Closing his eyes, Matt stood there and allowed himself to feel the movements you were making through the currents of air around him. Each shake of your hips or slide of your hands through your hair slightly shifted the air around him and it was somehow quickly making him hard. The delicious and sweet scent of your pheromones filling his nose only further fueled his own increasing need, his dress pants gradually becoming uncomfortable.

Goddammit, you were sexy.

He’d already fucked you this morning in the shower and twice yesterday–once before you left for the grocery store and then another time before you’d both gone to sleep after he’d returned home from his night out as Daredevil. Yet for some goddamn reason it felt like he was in need of you again. Longing for you. Hungry for you.

Matt’s teeth ground together, no longer able to resist the call of your body. Crossing the distance between the pair of you, he came up behind you and carefully wrapped his arms around your waist. He felt you startle in his hold, your pulse jumping in brief shock as your head abruptly turned. You’d stopped dancing, though you’d calmed a bit when you’d realized it was him.

“Shit, Matt,” you breathed out, a hand landing over your thundering heart. “You really do need to start wearing a bell. You scared me half to death. Wasn’t expecting you back for another hour.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck. “I couldn’t resist.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, confusion in your tone.

Matt’s arms tightened around your waist, his mouth lingering beside your ear. He inhaled deeply, his eyes rolling back as he picked up on the faintest hint of your arousal peaking through the smell of your pheromones.

You’d often joked that his cocky teasing and his insatiable sexual appetite would be the death of you. But right now, it felt like you were going to be the death of him .

“Don’t stop,” he whispered into your ear.

He felt the exact moment you realized what he meant. Embarrassment did in fact flood your body, heating your cheeks as you tried to pull away from him. Matt only tightened his hold around you.

“ Matt !” you shrieked. “You were watching me?”

It was the response he’d been intending to pull from you when he was in the elevator. He loved your usual adorable shriek of embarrassment which he’d generally follow up with a cocky, smartass teasing remark. And he’d had one ready, too, until he’d opened the apartment door and been bombarded by your pheromones. Now all he wanted was for you to keep rhythmically moving your hips–preferably against his face with no fabric blocking you from his mouth.

“Your pheromones are everywhere,” he told you. “Wasn’t expecting that. Just wanted to come home early and surprise you.”

One of his hands slid down your front, cupping you over your cotton shorts. He felt the slight jolt from your body at the sudden contact, but he could feel your blood rushing southwards towards his hand. You were enjoying him touching you like this.

“Don’t stop,” he repeated.

"Matt, I'm not–"

You stopped mid-sentence when his mouth landed on the space between your neck and your shoulder. He purred in satisfaction at the taste of you mixed with the faint taste of the pasta sauce you'd been cooking. His hand began gradually rubbing you over your shorts, his other one trying to encourage the sway of your hips against him.

"Matt, the food," you protested weakly.

He released your hip long enough to turn both burners off on the stove. He broke away from your neck just long enough to whisper, "Dinner can wait."

It was a moment before he felt you finally give in. Gradually your hips began to move, almost timidly at first, and Matt pressed himself into you from behind with a low, rumbling growl of satisfaction. He began to lightly nip at the skin of your neck, his own hips moving in tandem with the sensual sway of yours. He was quickly losing all ability to control himself though, his hand still rubbing at you over your shorts as he continued to grind himself against your ass.

"I want to taste you," he said.

" Matt ," you whispered, his name a mix of a moan and a reprimand.

His hand stopped its movement against you over your shorts, sliding its way up towards your other hip. He grinned in smug satisfaction against your neck when he caught the incredibly faint whimper that vibrated in your throat, the noise not quite leaving your mouth in response to the absence of his touch. You clearly wanted this, too.

His hands abruptly spun you around until he had you facing himself. Still grasping tight to your hips, he continued to encourage the sensual sway of them against himself as he began to walk you backwards through the kitchen and away from the hot stove. As he moved, Matt's mouth crashed down onto yours in a frenzied kiss–you tasted like coffee and strawberries for some reason and it only had him frantically trying to taste more.

Matt didn't stop walking you backwards until he'd accidentally backed you right into the fridge. Your mouth broke away from his quickly, expelling a soft gasp of surprise at the impact.

He felt your hands slide their way up his chest, clutching eagerly at his shoulders and rumpling his dress shirt between your fingers. Your breath was shallow and sharp, your heart loudly thrumming in your chest. Matt could feel the increase of your body temperature, the smell of your arousal clouding his mind as he heard your head fall back against the fridge. Your body clearly wanted a release, which countered what you said next.

"Matt, I don't think I can take another round of sex," you whispered. "I'm still sore from this morning. And literally all of the other times the past few days."

He leaned in, placing a soft kiss to your lips. When he broke away, Matt gradually kneeled down to the floor before you, his hands caressing the bare bit of your thighs that your shorts didn’t cover. He felt the prickle of goosebumps rise along your skin under his hands. He could also hear the pounding of your pulse in the artery along your inner thigh, the scent of your arousal strong beside his nose.

He wanted you so damn bad right now. But he would never make you do anything.

Exhaling a sharp breath, he rested his forehead against your left thigh. "We don't have to do that," he replied quietly. "I just want to taste you. And I can be gentle, sweetheart." He leant forward, placing a kiss to your thigh and feeling the muscle twitch beneath his lips. "But you can say no. You can always say no."

Your hand was suddenly running through his hair, slow and tender. His eyelids lowered, lips parting as he let the taste of you in the air coat his tongue. A rumbling groan rolled its way up from his chest, the sound mingling with the music from your phone in the kitchen as your other hand began massaging his scalp, too. The feel of your hands on him wasn't helping the throbbing of his cock in his dress pants.

“If you have me, then I get to have you,” he heard you breathe out above him.

“ Fuck, sweetheart, ” Matt moaned.

His mouth opened, teeth lightly nipping at your thigh as his eyes clenched shut. Matt didn’t know how he’d gone so long without having you in his life. Foggy wasn’t wrong when he’d joked the other week saying that you had tamed the Devil–because like hell if he wouldn’t fall on his knees and worship you every chance he got.

Releasing your thigh from his teeth, his hands made their way up towards the top of your shorts. Curling his fingers into the waistbands of both articles of clothing, he yanked down the shorts and your underwear in one swift movement, grinning when he heard your surprised gasp.

“Only if I get to have you first,” Matt purred out.

He tossed your clothes somewhere behind himself in the kitchen before gliding a hand up your thigh and towards your soaked folds. Humming in satisfaction, he ran a couple of fingers between them, coating them with your slick. You were so incredibly wet for him already.

He slid a finger up towards your clit, catching the slight sigh that left your lips when the pad of his index finger gently grazed it. For a moment his eyes closed, reveling in the quiet, content noises you and your body made as he alternated his focus between lightly stimulating that sensitive bundle of nerves and teasing your soaked entrance, loving the way your back arched off of the fridge each time. One of your hands had fallen down to grip his shoulder, the other still lightly massaging his scalp as he continued to pleasure you–and like hell if it wasn’t only further stimulating him in return.

Eventually teasing you got to be far too much for Matt. With his left hand still massaging your right thigh, his other hand left your clit and instead reached down, gripping onto your calf. Abruptly he lifted it from the ground, grinning up at you when your hand roughly gripped his shoulder to balance yourself, a surprised yelp falling out of you. He raised your leg as high as he heard your body would comfortably let him, pinning it against the cold metal of the fridge door behind you. He heard the sound of your mouth opening, probably about to protest, but he immediately dove forward, swiping the flat of his tongue up the length of you. Instead of words, you released an indistinguishable noise of pleasure that had the smug grin returning to his lips.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Mhmm,” you hummed back, head nodding quickly.

He heard the way your head fell back against the fridge with a soft thud after. Matt slid his tongue over you again, his eyes falling shut as he savored the taste of your slick on his tongue. Letting it linger in his mouth for a moment, he reveled in the heady, delicious taste of you before he finally swallowed it down with a throaty groan that had your fingers curling tighter in his hair.

“I’m going to have my fill of you,” Matt breathed out, his face turning up towards where you were above him as he sent you a devilish smile. “And I want you to ride my face as hard as you want. You hear me?”

He heard the stutter of your heart in response to his demand before you cursed under your breath.

“Fuck, Matt,” you whined.

“Mmm,” he hummed, shaking his head as he lowered his face back towards your cunt before him. “Thought we couldn’t do that tonight?”

He chuckled as he heard you call him a smartass, but you didn’t remotely complain when he dove forward again, this time lapping at your entrance before slipping his tongue inside of you. All the while he held your right leg up against the refrigerator door in a firm grip, grinning when he felt it beginning to tremble as you began rhythmically grinding your cunt against his face. He intentionally pressed his nose against your clit, his mouth spurred on by the loud moans flying out of you and merging with the music still playing on your phone.

He was definitely going to have his fill of you tonight.

Tuesday

Needing to catch up on laundry after you'd come home from work, you'd decided to skip making dinner tonight, figuring you and Matt could order something instead. You'd sent him a text earlier letting him know your plan before throwing a load of clothes into the washer. Matt had shown up from work shortly after, just when you'd managed to gather everything out of the dryer that neither of you had had the energy to deal with the past couple of days.

Now the pair of you were on opposite sides of the bed from each other, both focused on sorting out the last bit of laundry from the laundry basket on the mattress between the pair of you. You reached your hand in, pulling out another pair of your socks from the basket before you sorted them together along the bed.

“I believe these are yours,” Matt’s playful tone cut through the silence.

You glanced up from your pile of socks at his voice, catching him holding a pair of your black, silk panties in his hands. He had a mischievous look on his face as he held them up, his fingers rubbing the fabric back and forth between them. They were definitely not your everyday underwear. Rolling your eyes at Matt, you reached a hand out to take them from him, but he immediately drew his hand back from your reach, a wide grin forming on his lips.

“On second thought, I don’t know if I’m quite done with these yet,” he teased.

“Matt, those are clean and I’d like them to stay that way for right now,” you said.

“Does that mean I can dirty up the ones you’re wearing now, then?” he asked, his head tilting to the side as his eyebrows rose up onto his forehead.

You gaped back at him, shock written across your face. “What?” you asked.

He held out the silk panties to you and you snatched them from his hand before he could pull them out of your reach again. Matt chuckled at your reaction, clearly amused that he’d riled you up a little. You watched as he reached into the almost empty laundry basket, pulling out another pair of his black boxers.

“If those are clean and I can’t dirty them up,” he began, “then it stands to reason that I can dirty up the underwear you’ve got on now.”

You reached into the basket, pulling out the last two pieces of clothing as you made a face. “Do I want to know what you mean by that?” you asked him. “Because I’m guessing you mean something sexual by that.”

“I definitely mean something sexual by that,” he answered you.

With a sigh you glanced up at Matt, raising a single brow at him. He picked up his neatly folded pile of black boxers, shooting you a cheeky smile from the otherside of the bed.

“ How do you still want to have sex?” you asked him in astonishment. “Do you have a secret stash of performance pills around here somewhere?”

A bark of laughter flew out of Matt as he turned, making his way over to the dresser. You picked up some of your own neatly folded laundry, making your way to the dresser beside him to put them away.

“Oh sweetheart,” Matt purred, leaning over towards you when you were standing next to him, “I think we both know I don’t need any help in the bedroom.”

You felt your cheeks heat as you slid your clothes into the drawer before making your way back to the bed. Picking up the stack of your bras, you teased back, “Maybe you need help getting out of the bedroom.”

Matt laughed again, passing you on your way to the dresser as he made his way back to the bed to grab his stack of clean socks.

“Pretty sure we’ve gotten out of the bedroom often in the past few days,” he joked back.

“Oh my God, Matt,” you said with a grin, rolling your eyes again as you put away your bras. “That isn’t what I meant and you know it.”

He chuckled, shaking his head at you as he returned to the dresser. He slipped his socks into the open drawer beside you, an amused smile on his lips. Closing the drawer you had open, you turned and rested your hip against the dresser, eyeing him curiously.

“What’s with all the sex though?” you asked him.

Matt closed his drawer, turning and copying your body language as he leaned against the dresser, too. One of his dark brows rose up onto his forehead as he gazed back at you, his eyes landing on your chin. There was a cocky expression on his face that was only growing the longer he stared at you.

“You tell me,” he said. “I seem to recall someone getting turned on by me just innocently doing dishes the other day.”

“Okay, well you’re apparently turning into a horn dog over laundry ,” you shot back.

“Well in all fairness,” Matt began, “your scent has officially blended with mine here. Probably not something I imagine you can pick up on, but I can. And I like it.”

He reached a hand out, grabbing onto your hip. You stiffened when his thumb slipped under your shirt, brushing back and forth along your skin.

“I like it a lot," he said huskily.

Drawing in a deep breath, you tried to focus the topic on something besides sex for the evening. Though the growing hunger in Matt’s eyes was making that difficult.

"We should probably order dinner," you told him, clearing your throat. "Is there something you want?"

"You," he purred, a devilish smirk on his lips.

His whole hand slipped under your shirt next, the warmth of it hard to ignore as his palm slid up along your ribcage. Matt continued to stand there, leaning against the dresser and smirking back at you. He knew damn well what he was doing to you and he was doing it on purpose. It wasn't long before you began to feel that all too familiar urge to wipe the smirk off of his face growing within you.

A slow, sinful smile gradually drew itself across your lips as you stared back at him. You watched the way his eyes narrowed suspiciously at you in return, his head tilting to the side. The smirk on his face faltered a little.

"You want me, Matt?" you asked innocently.

Your hand landed on his forearm, your fingers lightly running along the dark hairs there. His hand gripped your ribcage under your shirt instantly in response.

"Yes," he answered carefully. "But clearly you have something in mind."

"Well," you began slowly, "if you want me, then I think maybe tonight you should have to follow my rules, Matthew." You grabbed onto his thick forearm and tugged it out from underneath your shirt. "And the first rule is no touching me."

His lips parted in surprise as he stared back at you in stunned silence. You lowered Matt's hand to his side, the sly smile still on your mouth at how fast that smirk had just vanished from his.

“Sound like a game you want to play, Matty?” you questioned him.

"What's the second rule?" he asked huskily.

A thrill shot through you. You'd never done this with Matt before, but the thought of having power over him in a completely new way had you feeling smug for once. Because he was always teasing you, always riling you up. Hell, living with him was like constantly being teased by him, especially with the way this first week had gone so far. Seeing him everywhere you looked–seeing your lives blended together–had you constantly wanting him this week.

Enjoying the way he was quietly waiting on you to answer, your hands reached out and grabbed onto the knot of his tie, yanking him towards you. Your smile grew wider when he willingly stumbled forward a step.

"The second rule is that you only cum when I say you can," you told him, undoing the knot of his tie with your fingers. "Since you do that to me so often, I think it's about time I do it back to you."

Slowly you slipped his tie out from underneath his shirt collar, enjoying the way you saw his throat bob when he roughly swallowed at your words. Eyes glancing down, you saw the way his hands had curled into fists at his sides. Clearly you were having an effect on him already and that went straight to your cunt.

"What do you say, Matty?" you asked coyly, hands beginning to unbutton his shirt. "You still want me?"

"Yes," he answered immediately.

Another little thrill shot through you at how fast he'd answered. You might enjoy this more than you'd initially thought.

"Get undressed and get on the bed then," you ordered him.

Your hands grabbed onto the hem of your shirt as Matt’s hands replaced yours on his buttons. His fingers deftly flew through each one, undoing them with such speed that you found yourself impressed. You were barely sliding your cotton shorts down your legs when you saw Matt making his way back to the bed, tossing the laundry basket haphazardly onto the floor and out of the way before he climbed up onto it.

Eyes following his movements, you watched as he sunk down onto his knees. His gaze was very intensely on you, his eyes focused along your chest as if he was tuned into your heartbeat. Chewing your lip, your eyes dropped down to his hardening cock that was expectantly waiting for you. Matt’s voice suddenly popped into your mind and you remembered all of those times that he’d taken control in the bedroom with you–ordering you around–and an idea quickly came to you.

Crossing your arms over your chest, your head canted to the side. “Touch yourself for me, Matty,” you ordered.

You grinned when you saw his eyebrows shoot up onto his forehead in surprise yet again, the corners of his own lips curling upwards at your boldness. Tonight you were certainly being far more brazen with him than you ever had been before. But watching as he grabbed his cock in his hand, beginning to stroke himself while he still focused on you, was definitely worth stepping out of your comfort zone for. Because it was certainly a mental image you were going to store away for later.

Except, he looked far too cocky right now on the bed. That smirk was back on his lips and you were determined to knock it off of him tonight. Eyes narrowing back at him, you uncrossed your arms, one hand slowly sliding its way down your stomach and towards your clit. A burst of pleasure raced through you the moment you began circling the sensitive bud, a soft moan leaving you. Matt’s smirk slowly faded from his mouth as his hand stuttered to a halt along his cock.

“I didn’t say stop, Matty,” you reminded him.

He audibly sucked in a sharp breath, his hand gradually continuing its movement. Biting your lip, you slid two fingers further downward, dipping them into yourself with a wet sound that you knew was loud enough for his ears to catch by the way his eyes clamped shut.

“You smell so good ,” he whispered.

"Do I?" you breathed out, slowly sliding your fingers in and out of yourself. “Someone want a taste?” you asked coyly, sliding your fingers back out.

“Yes– fuck . Please, yes,” he begged, his chest beginning to heave.

Crossing your way towards the bed, you slowly held out your hand towards him. Matt’s lips parted expectantly, his head turning up towards you. Instead you grabbed him by the chin with your fingers, hearing the slight whine he emitted just before you leaned in to kiss him.

You assumed the scent of your arousal along his chin–with you denying him the taste of it on his tongue–had driven him further into a frenzy. He began fiercely kissing you, his lips ravenously connecting to yours over and over as he practically growled against your mouth. His teeth were biting and pulling against your bottom lip, his hand working himself even faster. The sight of his urgent desire for you drew out a low moan from within your own chest.

Releasing his chin, you straightened beside the bed. With another rumbling growl, Matt’s free hand released the tight grip he’d had on the silk sheets and flew out towards your hip, but you immediately shifted to the side just as he’d remembered the rule you’d given him. His hand hung there in the air just inches from your waist, a frustrated noise coming from Matt.

“You know, for someone who likes to tease excessively, you sure can’t handle much of it in return,” you pointed out.

Matt grunted in response, his hand halting its movements on his cock. You could already see the glisten of pre-cum on his fingers, but you refrained from saying anything about him not following directions because you caught the abrupt shift in his demeanor to something…else.

“Because I’m aware of vastly more going on with your body than you are of mine,” he replied through clenched teeth. “Takes far more control than you think for me to not touch you right now. You know I love when you let loose with me, sweetheart. And this is…the most comfortable you’ve ever been with me. But it’s also so–” he rumbled a noise in his chest that sounded like the Devil growling now, “– tempting not to listen to you.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words and his tone of voice. One of these days you would be tempted yourself to see what happened if you pushed the Devil just far enough. But tonight was not the night for that.

“I’ll show you some mercy tonight,” you conceded. “But the rules still stand: you still can’t touch me and you still can’t cum until I give you permission. Think you can handle that much, Devil?”

Matt’s eyes narrowed back at you, that dark look on his face still present. After a moment, he gave you a single nod.

“That’s my good Devil. Now lay down,” you ordered.

Gradually Matt drew his legs out from underneath himself, slowly lowering onto his back on the bed as he continued to focus on you with that darkened expression. You delighted in watching his naked form as he moved, enjoying the movement of his muscles along his arms and abdomen visibly shifting.

Matthew Murdock was unbelievably beautiful– especially naked and wound up.

“You’re enjoying this,” he rumbled out.

You climbed up onto the bed, throwing a leg over his hips so you were straddling him. Hands landing on his chest, you lightly scratched your nails upwards towards his shoulders and then gradually back down towards his hips. You saw the goosebumps raise along his skin as you did, his head rolling back just a bit along the pillow in pleasure as he moaned out.

“So are you,” you pointed out.

Reaching a hand down, you grabbed onto the base of Matt’s cock, grinning when you heard him groan at the touch. Carefully you lined him up with your entrance before very deliberately sinking down onto him, your eyes closing as your cunt stretched around his girth. Matt loosed a curse into the bedroom, your eyes opening in time to catch him roughly fisting the sheets in both of his large hands.

Leaning forward, your hands landed on his broad shoulders as your face hovered above his. His eyelids fluttered open, his eyes hooded with lust as they landed along your cheek.

“Be a good Devil for me now,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss his lips lightly. “And I won’t make you wait too long to cum.”

“ Fucking hell ,” he growled. “Sweetheart, you’re going to regret– ahhh, fuck !”

Grinning at how he’d broken off mid-sentence when your hips slowly rocked against him, your nails bit into his shoulders. Setting a slow, delicious pace, you began to fuck Matt, a pleased hum leaving you at the feel of him inside of you. Matt's breath quickly came in short pants, a series of whimpers falling out of his lips.

“So hard not to–to touch you,” he breathed out.

“You’re doing so good for me, Matty,” you praised.

Reaching a hand up, you stroked his cheek, enjoying the rasp of his beard against your fingers. Matt immediately nuzzled into your palm, pressing his cheek further into it as his brows pinched together. You continued rhythmically riding his cock at your leisurely pace, thumb stroking the length of his cheekbone.

“You’re so beautiful, Matt,” you murmured.

A slow, euphoric smile slipped across his lips, his eyes opening as he focused around your face. “Getting a little–little sentimental on me right now, sweetie?” he panted out with an amused huff. “Already losing your edge?”

You shook your head, the grin still on your mouth. "Not a chance, Matthew," you assured him. "I still want to hear you beg."

Hips picking up their pace, you watched as his eyelids closed again. Your hand returned to his shoulder as you leaned in close to his ear, noticing the way he shuddered when your breath tickled his skin.

"Because I know how much you fall apart for praise," you whispered into his ear.

Beneath you, Matt's back arched off of the bed, his cock burying itself further into you as he did. With a soft gasp, your nails dug even further into his shoulders. Encouraged by your grip, Matt’s own hips began thrusting upwards into you, meeting your hips roughly and matching your pace.

"Mmm, that's my good Devil," you whispered into his ear. "But you're not cumming yet. I'm not quite done with you."

Matt loosed a loud groan through the bedroom at your words, his head once again rolling back along the pillow. His teeth ground together as he hissed out a sharp breath between them, his hips sharply fucking up into you so hard that your eyes briefly rolled back.

You were definitely going to enjoy riling up the Devil tonight.

Wednesday

A loud crack of thunder rolled through the city, the sound echoing off the tall buildings and managing to cut straight through what had been a peaceful, deep sleep. Matt gradually grew alert on the bed, taking a moment to orient himself with his senses as he lay there. From the lack of extra noise among the tenants in his building, the quieter noises coming up from the streets of Hell’s Kitchen below, and your deep, even breaths beside him, he realized it was either still quite late or very early.

Outside the apartment, the rain soon came down against the windows in a steady, almost soothing downpour. The sound was somewhat relaxing–something akin to white noise–making it easier for Matt to ignore many of the extra noises of the city outside his apartment. He closed his eyes again, trying to focus back on falling asleep. Occasionally the rain felt like it had a dampening effect when he was in his apartment, which often helped lull Matt into a deeper sleep at night. Thunder, on the other hand, often disrupted it–as did the loud rumbling crack of another thunderous boom that roared through Hell’s Kitchen.

Tuning into your body pressed to the front of him, Matt's tired mind tried to focus on the soft, rhythmic exhalations leaving you. Your heart was beating at a calm, level pace as you slept, the sound always a comfort to Matt. Readjusting his hold around your waist, he shifted along the back of you, drawing himself even closer to your warm, almost bare body. His head rested on the same pillow just behind yours, his mouth right above your shoulder.

As he relaxed further into the mattress, trying to get comfortable while he focused on you instead of the storm, his lips accidentally brushed along your shoulder. Matt inhaled deeply, the scent of your peach shampoo and your soft skin filling his nose. The faint taste of just you lingered on his mouth from where his lips had just grazed you and he found his tongue drowsily slipping out to taste you from them again. He moaned quietly, the noise blending in with the sound of the rain outside.

Leaning a bit forward, he placed a barely there kiss on the top of your shoulder. With his mouth lingering against your skin, Matt contentedly hummed out a faint pleased noise as something slowly stirred awake within himself. He never could seem to get over just how soft your skin was, or how intoxicating it was to taste. Whether it was the taste of your lips themselves, or the delicate skin of your neck, the soft swell of your breasts, the inviting expanse of your shoulders, or the delicious, addicting taste of your cunt, Matt could never get enough. He always was left wanting more of you.

His arm unconsciously tightened around your waist, his hips pressing forward into you. His bare cock twitched awake as he slotted himself between the roundness of your ass, the silk of your underwear not as satisfying to him as just feeling you against his own skin. A rumbling noise vibrated in his throat as another crack of thunder rang through the bedroom.

Matt placed another kiss on your shoulder, his tongue slipping out to taste even more of you as he did. Briefly the thought flickered in his mind that he should stop. You both had work in the morning and he didn’t want either of you to be tired. There was a part of him that didn't want to wake you just because the storm had woken him. But the moment the tip of his tongue swiped along your skin and he caught the taste of you on it, his eyes clamped shut even tighter and a strangled whine left him.

He needed you.

Matt leaned further forward, his nose tracing up the length of your neck, his parted lips grazing your bare skin at the same time. He could feel you stirring awake beside him, your skin dotting with goosebumps beneath his hands. Your breath immediately hitched in your throat, your heart beat no longer steady and even but a sharp staccato in his ears as you gradually awoke.

“Matt?” your sleep-riddled voice whispered out.

He almost purred at the sound of it. Your voice alone could do things to him, things he didn't quite understand himself. He nuzzled into your neck before placing an open-mouthed kiss along the skin there. He just needed more of you, especially after the frustrating night he'd had as the Devil earlier.

And then there it was–the faint scent of your arousal hitting his nose. A slow, satisfied smile crept its way along his lips. Without fail, he so easily always managed to turn you on. He would never tire of how your body reacted to him.

"Matty, what're you–"

He sucked a patch of skin just beneath your jaw into his mouth, your question dying on your lips as you audibly inhaled a sharp breath. He felt your ass shift against his rapidly hardening cock, a quiet sigh falling out between your lips next. He released the skin from his mouth, his nose rubbing along the line of your jaw. One of Matt's hands released your waist, slowly sliding its way up your stomach and continuing further upwards.

"The storm woke me," he quietly explained, his large hand palming the soft mound of your breast. "Tried to focus on you to fall back asleep, but–" he inhaled the scent of your arousal in the air deeply, salivating at the faint taste of it in his mouth, "–you were distracting."

He felt both of your hands latch onto his wrists, felt the sting of your nails biting into his skin. A hiss of pleasure flew from him and he ground his aching cock back into your ass even more firmly.

" Sweetheart ," he moaned, shifting so his mouth was beside your ear when he spoke next. "Your body is begging me," he whispered, enjoying the shudder that ran through you. "Can I have you? Please?"

"Baby," you whimpered, ass eagerly grinding back against him as you nodded along the pillow. "Yes, yes. Need you, Matty."

Without waiting for further encouragement, his fingers gently tugged at your nipple. You gasped in surprise, your nails further biting into his wrists. Further spurred on by the noises of pleasure coming from you, his other hand slid down from your waist, slipping past the waistband of your silk underwear. He immediately found his way between your folds, growling at how wet you already were when he touched you.

"Oh, sweetheart ," he breathed out, running his two fingers back and forth between your slick. God, you were soaked already. "You want me this badly?"

He felt your head shift over your shoulder towards him, a desperate noise barely escaping you. It sounded like a muffled whine stuck in your throat and it had Matt's cock throbbing with need.

"Yes, baby," you answered softly. "Always."

His teeth grit together at the term of endearment he usually only heard from you in moments like these. But the truth in your words had a sharp grunt barreling out of him as his two fingers made their way towards your clit. The moment he grazed it he felt your back arch against him, a little moan coming from you in response.

"That feel good, sweetie?” he asked.

His lips began trailing slow, sweet kisses along your neck, his two fingers gently circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. He felt another shudder shoot through your body, your breath catching yet again.

“Yes,” you whispered back.

He felt one of your hands release its hold on his wrist, reaching back behind yourself and towards him. You managed to grab his bare ass and another whimper fell out of you. He smiled against your neck, running his nose back and forth against you when he felt you practically clawing at it as he continued the ministrations of his fingers along your clit. You really had a thing for his ass.

“ More ,” you begged.

His fingers slid down, teasing your soaked entrance. You whined and quickly shook your head. Matt’s brows knitted together in confusion. But then he felt your hand leave his ass, blindly finding its way to his cock. His hips twitched when your fingers curled around the girth of him, your head turning over your shoulder towards him again.

“I want you ,” you whispered.

You began stroking him, your arm twisted behind your back at an awkward angle as you did. Your hand felt so fucking good on him, but it wasn’t what he wanted to feel, either. He knew exactly what you’d meant. A rumbling noise left Matt, the sound of the storm outside entirely forgotten to him now as he focused solely on you.

His fingers quickly slipped out of your underwear, sliding down the front of them until he hooked the damp fabric between his fingers and tugged it to the side. Your hand soon released him, flying out in front of yourself to grip a handful of the silk sheets. Behind you, Matt’s hand landed on your hips, shifting you where he needed you before he grasped onto the base of his cock and lined it up with your entrance.

He heard the sharp inhale of your breath the moment the tip of him barely pushed into you. Your hips eagerly ground back against him, silently begging him to fill you. Without hesitation, Matt gradually plunged himself fully inside of your wet cunt, reveling in the delicious twitch of your muscles contracting all around him as you adjusted to fit him. His eyes fluttered closed, a low moan falling from his lips. You were so warm and wet and tight.

You felt perfect .

Matt continued to knead the breast he’d had in his palm, his other hand making its gradual way back to where it had been working your clit. He heard you curse under your breath, your head turning over your shoulder towards him. Knowing exactly what you’d wanted, his mouth landed on yours. While his hips set a rhythmic, steady pace as he pumped into you, his mouth placed soft, lingering kiss after soft, lingering kiss against yours.

Eventually he heard the way your hand released the sheets you’d been gripping. Instead, he felt you turn at the waist as he continued to lovingly roll his hips forward into you over and over, your hand coming up to tenderly cup his cheek. Matt’s tongue slid along your bottom lip in a slow glide, a beautiful whine falling out of you in return and meeting his ears. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, lapping languorously against your own.

And that was how the night carried on, with Matt’s hips sensually rolling forward into yours repeatedly as you eagerly tried to match his pace with your own hips, the pair of you attached at the mouth and panting heavily between kisses. The roll of thunder and steady patter of rain became nothing but muted background noise to Matt as he listened to every sound of pleasure coming from you.

Thursday

You’d had a long week at the Bulletin and you were happy as hell that tomorrow was finally Friday. While things had been great between Matt and you this first week of living together–more than great when it came to your sex lives, and your aching cunt was proof of that–you’d still been stressed at work. There was a story you’d been struggling with writing and it had been frustrating you to no end for the past few days. Though admittedly, the constant sex with Matt this week had been helping you relieve your frustration when you were off of work, even if it was incredibly distracting.

But he wasn’t home right now because he was out as Daredevil, scouring the rooftops and beating up bad guys this evening. Which was fine, it wasn’t the first time he’d gone out doing just that while you were together–certainly not the first time this week–and it definitely wouldn’t be the last time. You'd quickly grown accustomed to his occasional absences in the evening, even if you still found yourself worrying about him.

A little while ago you had decided to put your laptop away, forget about work, and get cozy on the couch with one of your shows. Even though it was still strange being able to watch your shows on an actual television in Matt’s living room, you’d curled up under his plaid blanket and gotten comfortable. And that was where you'd remained the duration of the evening, waiting for his inevitable return.

You’d managed to get through a few episodes of the comedy you were watching before you finally heard the roof access door swing open. Instantly your head rose from the pillow you’d been resting on, glancing up at Matt’s Daredevil-clad form. You winced when he slammed the door shut behind himself, the loud noise reverberating around the apartment. Peeling his gloves from his hands, he aggressively stalked his way over to the stairs. His boots hit each step on his descent down them with a heavy thud . Absolutely everything about his body language told you that he’d had an awful night out as the Devil and he was internally fuming .

When he’d reached the last step, pulling the helmet from his head with one hand, you thought you might say something to him. Maybe ask if there was something you could do to help him relax. But the moment you’d opened your mouth, drawing in the slightest breath, Matt’s head snapped in your direction and you froze. His jaw was clenched and his eyes almost looked black. Your mouth immediately closed. Clearly, Matt was not in the mood for talking right now.

Settling back onto the couch, you watched as he made his way towards the closet behind the two armchairs to your left. He roughly yanked the doors open before opening the lid of his father’s steamer trunk. You heard the heavy drop of his gloves and his helmet, moments later hearing the sound of his billy clubs dropping into the trunk next. Silently you watched him kneel down, untying the laces of his boots one at a time. When he finished, both boots were gruffly disposed of into the trunk before he was standing back up, reaching for the zipper behind himself along his back.

Your eyes openly lingered on the gradual reveal of Matt’s muscled back as the zipper of his suit slowly exposed himself to you. He released the zipper once he’d undone the suit all the way down just to the top of his ass where you could see the waistband of his boxers peeking out. Biting your lip, you watched the muscles of his back flex and pull as he took a minute to slide one skin tight sleeve off of himself before removing the other. And then he bent over, his round, muscular ass directly in your line of sight as he slowly stripped the suit down each of his legs. Once he’d slipped the armor entirely off of himself, he was left in nothing but those tight, black boxers he always wore.

You could feel yourself getting turned on despite how irritated he seemed. You couldn’t help but watch as he folded his suit up in obvious frustration before stuffing it in the steamer trunk. He slammed the lid of it down a bit harder than necessary before he rose to his now bare feet, shutting the doors to the closet. Afterwards, he turned swiftly towards you, his focus easily finding you on the couch where you suddenly stopped breathing under the weight of his stare. His entire body looked tense, his shoulders tight and the muscles twitching in his cheeks.

“I’m going to shower,” he stated simply.

He stood there a moment, running a hand across his forehead as he stared back at you. You only nodded, unable to trust your voice. Because he had to know you were aroused right now with his senses, but he must have had a bad enough night out as Daredevil that he hadn’t even remotely wanted to remark on it.

Wordlessly Matt stalked off down the hall to the bathroom, flipping on the light and closing the door partially behind himself. Seconds later you heard the shower turn on. You tried your best to ignore the thought of Matt naked and soon to be wet under the spray of water in the other room. Though admittedly trying to force your thoughts away from everything sexual that was running through your mind now wasn’t easy. Attention returning to the show you’d been watching, you readjusted yourself on the couch and made yourself comfortable all over again.

Inevitably your gaze wandered back to the bathroom when you distinctly heard the glass door of the shower shut. Eyes narrowing, you stared at the light peaking through the crack of the bathroom door. Because why would Matt have turned the light on to shower? You knew he hated the buzz that lights emitted, and if he was frustrated, that extra noise would’ve only irritated him further. He had no use for the light anyway, he only ever turned lights on in a room when it was meant for your benefit.

It was a second before the realization hit you, your eyes growing wide. He definitely had noticed you were in the mood when he’d been stripping out of his suit, then. Turning the bathroom light on and keeping the door partially open must’ve been a sort of silent invitation for you. Maybe he’d been too riled up to use his words, or maybe…

Maybe Matt wanted something more than the sweet love making you both often had together. Maybe he wanted something even more than the naughty, playful sex, too. Maybe he needed something more tonight to relieve his frustration.

Something more like rough sex with a wound up and irritated Devil.

Because you knew Matt. And you knew he probably wouldn’t quite know how to verbalize what he wanted, let alone feel comfortable enough asking for that. He hated the thought of hurting you. But you’d encountered this with him a few times before, knowing that when he was this uptight returning from a patrol that hadn’t gone well as Daredevil, he usually needed a release. And he often enjoyed using you as that release–rather roughly, too.

Bottom lip slipping between your teeth, you immediately sat upright on the couch. You were more than willing to let him fuck you. The thought of him loosing the Devil on you already had a dampness forming between your thighs. You loved the sharp, rough edges of Matt just as much as you loved the sensitive, soft sides. And it had been awhile since you’d seen the Devil make an appearance in your sex life.

Tossing the blanket off of yourself, you turned off the television and rose from the couch before making your way down the hall and towards the bathroom. You slowly pushed open the bathroom door, stepping inside. You could see him washing himself through the frosted glass of the shower doors, making no move to acknowledge that you were in the bathroom. But he obviously knew you were there–especially with how aroused you were and how much you’d come to learn this week that scent alone easily affected him. There was no way he couldn’t smell it.

Grabbing the hem of your shirt, you slipped it up and over your head, your bare breasts exposed to the warm steam wafting through the bathroom as you tossed the article of clothing to the ground. Slipping your fingers inside both your sleep shorts and your underwear’s waistband, you slid them down your legs before they dropped to the floor. You stepped out of them, hesitantly making your way over to the shower before slowly sliding the glass door back.

You hesitated just outside of it, one hand lingering on the glass as Matt’s head once again abruptly snapped in your direction. He was standing under the spray of the water, his dark hair soaked and clinging to him. Your eyes followed a few beads of water as they raced down his scarred and toned chest, your pulse increasing at the sight. You could see the obvious tension in his muscles as you quietly took in the sight of him naked before you.

“Do you…need some help coming down from tonight?” you asked him.

Your eyes caught the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides, nostrils flaring as he expelled a sharp breath.

“Would that be too much?” he gruffly questioned back.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head as you finally stepped into the shower. “I love all the sides of you, Matthew. I’ve told you that before.”

You turned around, sliding the shower door closed after yourself as some of the warm spray overhead began to cascade down your back. A surprised gasp fell out of you when you felt Matt’s hands suddenly grabbing your hips, his fingers firmly digging into your skin. Even you felt the way your pulse stuttered in response, his chin hovering just over your left shoulder.

“Are you sure?” the dark, gravelly voice you knew as the Devil asked, his mouth just beside your ear. “Because I have no desire to be gentle tonight, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You inhaled a deep breath, excitement shooting through you at his words and the tone he’d spoken them with. It had been far too long since he’d let himself loose with you like this. Turning your head just over your shoulder, you spotted the wild look in his eyes. That only thrilled you further.

“I’ve told you before, Matty,” you whispered back. “Sometimes I like when you hurt me.”

His fingers dug into your hips even further, his lip pulling back into something akin to an animalistic snarl. A second later he’d shoved you up against the shower door, the cold glass pressed entirely to the front of you a sharp contrast to the warm water falling down your body. You could feel the heat from Matt’s naked body radiating off of him with how close he was standing behind you now, but it wasn't quite close enough to touch yours.

“You can say no,” Matt’s deep voice reminded you.

Head still turned over your shoulder, your cheek pressed against the glass of the shower door, your eyes remained fixed on his face.

“But I’m saying yes,” you whispered back.

A growl tore out of Matt as he yanked you away from the door, roughly turning you around towards himself before he slammed his mouth hard onto yours. His hands snaked their way around to your back, his blunt fingernails digging into your skin as he drew you in tight, crushing you to the front of himself. You could feel his already hard cock pressed between your slick bodies as his teeth gnashed at your bottom lip. A hiss of pleasure slipped from your mouth as your hands flew up, your own nails clawing at his thick biceps that held you firmly to him.

Matt’s mouth quickly retreated from yours, his teeth snapping at your earlobe before shifting downwards to your neck. As your head fell back over your shoulders, your eyes closing, you felt him nipping along the length of your collarbone. The sharpness of his bites was quickly soothed by the warm water running down the pair of you, Matt’s name slipping from between your lips as a moan.

Matt responded instantly to the sound of it, quickly spinning you before slamming your back into the tile wall of the shower. His flushed face hovered just before yours, his chest heaving as he stared hungrily back at you. He looked absolutely wild with his dark gaze fixed along your cheek.

“You cum when I say or you don’t cum at all,” he ordered, his eyebrows rising onto his forehead, a cocky smile on his face as he repeated to you what you'd said to him the other night. “And you don't touch yourself unless I say so. Am I clear?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed out, nodding quickly.

One of his hands shot out between the pair of you so fast that you didn’t realize he’d even moved until you felt him gripping you by the neck. His hold was just firm enough to put pressure on your throat, just enough without actually hurting you, as he pinned you to the wall. Your thighs clenched together, more wet heat building between them as you squirmed against the shower wall. You just wanted to feel him inside of you already.

“Use your words,” Matt demanded gruffly. “Am I clear?”

“Yes, Matt,” you answered immediately.

That smug smirk remained on his lips as he stared back at you pinned to the wall by your throat. His tongue slipped out slow and purposeful between his lips, his eyes momentarily closing in pleasure. You heard a low, rumbling noise stir deep from within his chest.

“You really do like this, don’t you?” he asked, that low, gravely tone of the Devil slipping out as he opened his eyes. “You like it when I’m rough with you?”

His hand tightened a little further around your throat and your hips desperately ground forward, searching for him. He shifted just out of your reach and you whined in response.

“Yes,” you answered him.

“You want my cock?” he asked next.

You nodded vigorously in response. “Yes, Matt, yes.”

That self-satisfied smirk drew itself across his lips once again, that dark look never leaving his face. “Then you’re going to beg me for it, sweetheart. Turn around,” he ordered.

He released his hold on your throat and you obediently spun on the spot. There was not a single thought in your mind besides how badly you wanted to feel him fucking you right now. Pressing the front of yourself to the shower wall, you looked over your shoulder at him behind you, waiting for instruction.

You saw Matt’s hand draw back just a bit before he swung it forward, the sharp crack of the slap he landed on your ass echoing through the shower. You could feel the desperate ache of your cunt begging for him to fill you as the sharp sting remained long after his palm had left your ass.

“Beg me to fuck you,” Matt ordered.

“Please, Matt,” you breathed out. “I’ve missed you all night. I was–was waiting for you to come home. Needed you.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

His hand drew back again before he landed another sharp slap against your ass. His palm lingered this time, briefly soothing the sting before he brutishly grabbed the soft mound of flesh and squeezed. Your eyes clamped shut, your ass pressing back into him in search of more.

“I need you,” you whined. “Need you to fill me, Matt. Fuck me until I can’t think–until I can’t walk.”

A pleased rumble sounded from him behind you, both of Matt’s hands playing with your ass he roughly kneaded the flesh between them. You could feel the slick steadily dripping down between your thighs now, your fingers uselessly gripping at the tile wall.

“Haven’t had enough of my cock?” he shot back. “Been fucking you all week and you still want more?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed out, nodding quickly. “Always want more. Always need you.”

Matt groaned loudly at your words, his hands sliding up from your ass to grip your hips. You felt him grind his hard cock against your ass and you soon realized how much he’d enjoyed hearing that.

“Please let me have you, Matt,” you begged, desperation creeping into your voice. “Please fuck me. I need you, baby. Need to feel you inside of me. No one–” a surprised gasp fell out of you as two of his fingers began teasing your entrance. “No one makes me feel as–as good as you do,” you panted out, eyes closing when he dipped his fingers inside of you.

“So wet for me,” he growled out.

You felt him abruptly thrust both thick digits all the way into you and your forehead dropped forward against the shower wall. A cry slipped out of you as a warm wash of bliss flooded your body at finally receiving something from him. Matt’s mouth came down to your shoulder, his teeth sinking firmly into your skin as a snarl rippled out of him. There was nothing gentle about the way he continued fingering you against the tile wall, though. Every aggressive pump emitted a loud, squelching noise as your hands helplessly clawed at the tile, your ragged breaths loud in your own ears. Matt’s teeth released your shoulder a few moments later, his lips just grazing your earlobe.

“I didn’t say you could stop begging,” he reminded you. “And you aren’t cumming yet, sweetheart.”

His fingers slipped out of you and you whined instantly at the loss of contact. Your body aching with desire, you spun around to see Matt had backed away from you. Inevitably your eyes dropped down from the lustful expression on his face to the particular appendage you most desired. Tongue slipping out to wet your lips, you stared longingly at him.

“You want it?” he asked.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Then show me,” the gravelly voice of the Devil demanded.

Taking a step towards him, you quickly sunk down to your knees on the wet floor before him. Without hesitation, you eagerly took him into your mouth, your nails running along his thighs as you did. One of Matt’s hands landed on the back of your head, fisting your hair firmly in his grip as he held on tight. His other hand roughly cupped a breast as he bent forward, firmly kneading the flesh in his hand. He loosed a loud moan that echoed in the shower, the warm spray falling over the pair of you as you vigorously sucked his cock. You couldn’t resist the urge to press your thighs together at the sound of his pleasure, your hips absently rocking as you searched for friction. But that only encouraged Matt’s grip to tighten on your hair.

“I told you that you cum when I say or you don’t cum at all,” Matt warned. “Are you going to listen to me?”

You immediately stopped your movements, humming an affirmative noise in response that had Matt moaning out as it vibrated against his cock. You knew how much that affected him every time you did it. One well placed moan while he was in your mouth could have him cumming instantly.

His grip eased on your hair. “That’s my good, sweet girl,” he praised. “Now show me how bad you want me.”

Friday

Standing shoulder to shoulder with Matt at the bedroom closet–and trying your best to ignore his distracting presence as he stood clad in nothing but a pair of his black boxers–you undid the top buttons of the blouse you were planning to wear to work, sliding it off the hanger. Beside you, Matt's hands slowly ran over the various tags on the different hangers of his suits. Your gaze flickered towards them at the movement, watching the way his fingers deliberately ran over the braille of each tag while he searched for the suit he was going to wear today. Every morning when he did this it always held your attention for far longer than necessary, and you swore he intentionally read slower because he knew.

Your tongue slid out, wetting your lips as you blinked hard and forced yourself to tear your attention away from his hands. With a hard swallow, you tried to focus back on getting yourself ready for work. Putting your arms through the sleeves of your blouse, you shifted your attention downwards as you began buttoning it up. Though you'd barely buttoned a handful of buttons before you heard Matt huff out an amused breath beside you.

Fingers pausing their movement, your gaze gradually slid up towards Matt's face. There was a self-satisfied smirk on his lips as he slid his arms into the sleeves of his dark blue dress shirt, his bottom half still clad in his black boxers as he stared back at you. Quirking a brow at him as he stood beside you, you had a feeling you knew what that look was about.

"We can make time, sweetheart," Matt said, his gaze dropping down as he also began buttoning up his own shirt now. "I told you that earlier."

Unable to stop yourself, your eyes dropped down to his fingers, watching as they deftly slid a button through the hole in his shirt before they slowly shifted to the button above it, repeating the action. It was a moment before you realized your own fingers were still holding onto the button you’d stopped on of your blouse. Clearing your throat, you once again tore your eyes away from his hands, but you couldn't deny there was a part of you considering his offer now.

"I told you, I can't be late for work, Matt," you repeated for the fourth time this morning.

"There's been an attempted robbery near fifty-sixth and tenth," Matt informed you. "Police apprehended the suspect, but you could always use it as an excuse. Foot traffic is slowed because they’ve had to block off the area." He shrugged a shoulder. "Tell Ellison it slowed you down on your walk to work. That you were investigating for a possible story. He won't know you were actually late because we had sex."

"Matt," you whined, hands dropping to your sides as you turned completely towards him. "How are we going to ever accomplish anything living together if we can't keep our hands to ourselves for a single day?"

Matt chuckled, his hands falling from his own partially buttoned shirt as he copied your movements, turning and facing you. "I am absolutely not complaining about the increase in sex,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes before crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m serious, Matt,” you grumbled. “We need to figure out a way to take a bit of a breather.”

“If I recall correctly, you’re the one who woke up aroused,” Matt pointed out.

“Because you were humping my ass, Matt,” you countered.

“Because you were moaning my name in your sleep and literally dripping, sweetheart,” Matt snapped back. “You think it’s that easy for me to just ignore that?” He took a step towards you, towering above you with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. “This whole place permanently smells like your pheromones and half the time it smells like your arousal when you’re just looking at me. I can barely breathe without getting turned on and wanting to fuck you.”

Something stirred within you at his words and that edge to his voice. It wasn’t fair that you found him sexy when he got irritated, but admittedly you hadn’t thought about how you living here would constantly affect him. You hadn’t thought about the way your scent would mix with his and turn him on–something he’d been telling you the other day–or how he’d often have to smell you aroused and have that scent lingering in the apartment all the time, too.

“You’re getting aroused right fucking now, too, I can smell you,” he pointed out.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered automatically.

Matt’s expression fell instantly at the tone of your voice, the tension easing out of his shoulders as he ran a hand across his mouth. Shaking his head, he focused back on you. “Don’t–don’t apologize, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“You’re right though,” you agreed. “You do pick up on all these other things that I don’t and I can’t imagine how difficult it is for you to not act on anything. Because I have a hard time refraining sometimes. And it–it doesn’t help that I love you and I just always want to be with you like that. And there’s the whole, you know, excitement of everything,” you admitted shyly.

A grin tentatively slipped back onto Matt’s face as he hummed out a curious noise. “Excitement of what, exactly, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Of us living together,” you answered nervously. “Waking up and falling asleep next to you all of the time. Spending our evenings together. And our weekends. And–and what living together might mean for the future,” you added softly.

Matt’s hands reached out, smoothing the hair from your face before both of his large palms cradled it between his hands. He lowered his forehead towards yours, his eyes closing as he did.

“You’ve been thinking about the future?” he whispered.

“Yes,” you answered.

“And that’s also why you’re such a horn dog yourself this week?” he teased.

You couldn’t resist the snort of a laugh that fell out of you, Matt’s smile only widening on his face at the sound.

“In very simple terms, yes,” you admitted, eyelids lowering as you felt his thumbs brushing back and forth along your cheeks. “But also, I’m not used to seeing you wander around fresh out of the shower performing domestic tasks. Honestly, the fact that you clean is a turn on in itself.”

“I see the bar isn’t very high for you,” Matt teased.

“I guess not,” you joked back.

Silence fell between the pair of you as you both stood there in front of the closet, Matt’s forehead still pressed to yours as his hands still cupped your cheeks. You became very aware of the increase in your pulse and the way Matt’s lips had parted, his hot breath rolling out of his mouth and landing against yours. Swallowing hard, your hands reached up, slowly grasping onto Matt’s forearms and rumpling the fabric of his dress shirt. Matt’s nose lightly bumped yours, the gesture causing your lips to involuntarily part.

“I’m sorry for being an ass this morning,” he whispered, his lips brushing yours as he spoke. “It just takes a lot to resist the pull I have for you.”

“I’m sorry for not initially being more understanding,” you murmured, hands sliding up to grip his biceps. “Didn’t realize how hard it would be for you to adjust to me being here.”

Matt’s lips connected to yours for a moment, lingering in a sweet kiss. Your grip tightened around his arms in response before he pulled away from you just a fraction.

“I love having you here,” he assured you. “Please don’t think otherwise.”

“I know,” you whispered, lips drawing into a smile. “You tell me that at least ten times a day, Matty.”

He leaned forward, placing a peck to your lips that had you giggling.

“Just want to make sure you know,” he replied.

“We uh, we do need to figure out the constantly being distracted by sex thing though,” you told him. “Because it’s–it’s getting a little out of hand.”

Matt hummed out a noise of agreement before he turned the pair of you just a bit to your left and began to walk you backwards. Your brows furrowed together as he did, watching as Matt’s lips drew into a playful smile. It was only a few steps before you felt your back hit the wall beside the closet.

“We do need to figure that out,” Matt agreed huskily.

His hands slid their way down your neck, continuing their descent over your exposed chest where your bra was on display because your blouse still remained unbuttoned, eventually making their way down to your hips. His face was hovering just a few inches from yours now, that familiar look of desire darkening his eyes as they stared hungrily back at you.

“But maybe we can figure it out this weekend,” he suggested. “Because right now all I can think about is fucking you against this wall.”

As if to emphasize his point, his hips rutted forward into you with just enough force that your back hit the wall and a gasp slipped out of your lips. You’d certainly noticed how hard he was through his boxers and your eyelids fluttered shut as you whispered a curse.

“Just be late for work this once,” he pleaded. “I’ll make it worth it.”

Bottom lip rolling between your teeth as Matt ground his hips forward into you again, you took a moment to consider his offer. Truthfully your cunt was sore from the use it had gotten this past week since you’d moved in with Matt, and even some of your muscles were sore from all of the different positions he had managed to contort you into throughout the week. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t mind going into work today and being this wound up the entire time, because you knew you’d be kicking yourself for not taking Matt up on his offer.

Resigning yourself to the only outcome that you knew was going to come of this, you sighed and released your hold on Matt, unbuttoning your blouse as Matt flashed a triumphant smile back at you. His own hands were quick to undo the few buttons he had managed to button on his shirt.

“Just don’t make me so late that the robbery story won’t be believable, Matty,” you told him. “I don’t need your dick getting me fired.”

He laughed, pulling his dress shirt off and tossing it somewhere behind himself near the bed. “Noted, sweetheart,” he replied, sliding his boxers down his thighs.

You’d barely removed your own underwear, not even having a chance to undo your bra, before Matt had scooped you up in his arms and shoved you back into the wall. There was a devilish smile on his lips and a dark gleam in his eyes as he maneuvered you in his arms, freeing a hand to line his cock up with your cunt that admittedly had been soaked since you’d woken this morning. You moaned when the tip of him pushed into you, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“That’s it,” Matt praised, gradually sinking you down onto his cock. “That’s my good, sweet girl. Let me make you feel good. You want that, don’t you?”

Your head rolled back against the wall, breath already coming in shallow. “Yes.”

You felt the slow slide of his cock as he dragged himself almost entirely out of you, but then in one swift, powerful thrust, his hips snapped forward and his cock plunged all the way back into you. Your eyes clamped shut, a cry of pleasure tearing from you as he hit that spot deep inside, the delicious sting causing your walls to squeeze him. Matt groaned out, his hips slowly moving backwards before he roughly slammed into you again, your head lightly bumping back into the wall behind you.

“Want you to think about this later, sweetheart,” Matt told you. “When you’re stuck at work, frustrated over the story I know you’ve been stressed about.”

He slammed himself back into you and you cried out again, goosebumps raising along your arms at the sound of his voice. Your hands slid up the back of Matt’s neck, making their way into his hair and gripping the strands roughly between your fingers.

“Just remember I’ll be here when you come home,” he grunted out, thrusting himself inside you again. “I’ll always be here.”

“Fuck–Matty,” you whimpered out, back arching along the wall as his pace increased. “I love you.”

His eyes closing tightly shut at your words, his hips stuttered momentarily before he readjusted his grip on you. Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead to yours again, grunting with each sharp snap of his hips as he continued to fuck you.

“I love you, too,” he breathed out, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I love you so fucking much.” His fingers dug into your hips and thighs as he fucked you harder into the wall. “I’m all yours, sweetheart. Always yours.”

Roughly you tugged his mouth down towards yours, kissing him hard as your fingers tightened around the fistfuls of his hair. Matt was kissing you back with a ferocious need, the kiss all tongue and teeth. Loud, throaty moans filled the bedroom, mingling with the sounds of skin on skin as Matt continued to mercilessly fuck you into the wall beside the closet. All thoughts of work and needing to keep your hands to yourselves were completely lost from either of your minds as you cried out his name through the bedroom.

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