galablanch-blog

[shedaresthedevil]

Help Me Get Away From Myself

Pairing : Matt Murdock X GN!reader

18+ MINORS DNI!

Warnings : SPICE. WHOLE LOT OF SPICE. Sub/dom, Sub!matt , Dom!reader, afab! Reader, shibari/Kinbaku/restraint, Oral (M Recieving), Edging, overstimulation, Nipple play ( Briefly mentioned) INHALER WARNING for my best avocado.

Based on a tiny “incoherent blurb” I stumbled upon from @pleasedin​ Please enjoy. @matt-erialgirl​ and @loki-silver-tongued-god​

I think that is everyone who asked to be tagged. It has been proof read, so if you see a mistake, no you didn't. I’ll be rereading it a thousand times and editing it throughout the day anyway because I'm a perfectionist. 

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You had dabbled in shibari in its traditional sense, for…art purposes. It had never crossed over into Kinbaku until now- at least not in the sense of you being the rigger. You were surprised at Matt’s request to be restrained. The first time he had asked you to be in control, you had decided that rope or other bonds were not required. You had always known Matthew to have great discipline- and you had decided to test just how far that control went. You had not allowed him to touch you the entire time, save for the last ten seconds, and he had been absolutely wrecked afterwards.  Matt had suggested physical bondage this time around.

“I hope you don’t mean handcuffs. I know you. You will absolutely hurt yourself straining. I don’t have any leather ones right now...” You trailed off, grinning wickedly as a solution came to you.

“Oh no, you’ve stopped talking. I take it you thought of something.” Matt grinned, a very light flush settling across his face.

“You would be correct counselor.” You had whispered, taking your time to run your fingers through his waves.  All it took for this man to bend to you was playing with his hair.

“I’ve got just the thing to help you get away from yourself.”

You had walked in the door, the very specific rope retrieved from your home, and immediately instructed Matt to remove his clothes. He had moved quickly to carry out your command.

“Stop.” Your voice cut through the haze of exhilaration, and Matthews hands came to a halt.

Matt was going too quickly, and you knew exactly what the thrill of waiting did for you both. He licked his lips, yearning for instruction. This is what he wanted; to simply dismiss every other thought and obey. Matthew let out a shuddered breath as you circled him, nails gliding across his body. His eyes traveled toward the ceiling, tongue sliding out once again as they closed. You stood on your toes, using his shoulders as an anchor.

“Slower,” your lips brushed his neck just below his ear as you purred. “I want to watch.”

You stepped away, taking a seat in one of the armchairs of his living room. Matt’s hands resumed, making sure to take his time in removing his belt, his dress pants, and then his briefs. Matt’s arousal was evident, even before the silk fabric was separated from his flesh. His fingers moved excruciatingly slow to undo the buttons of his shirt. Matt knew exactly what he was doing, his compliance malicious. You decided to answer this with a small retaliation as he started to slide the shirt from his body. He froze as he heard you stand.

“Leave it on.” You were enthralled at idea of Matt being able to feel the silk of the rope only across his chest.

His signature smirk appeared, unsure of your motivation, but amused by it nonetheless. You took his hand and led him to the bedroom, asking him to sit down on the edge of the bed. Matt’s anticipation grew as he heard your clothes being removed, and he drew in a quiet breath as he heard the rope hit the floor. You almost didn’t hear it. You were unwinding it, running it through your fingers, making sure everything was smooth and the fibers were intact and unfrayed. You knew better than to use unsafe rope, even if it was not for suspension purposes.  After the rope passed your examination, you got on your knees in front of him, reaching for his hands once again. You gazed up at Matt, always in awe of how beautiful he truly was. You tapped your fingers in his palm; this was the code you had made for scenes like this, among others, to ensure that he was okay-that he wanted to continue.

He nodded, tapping back in your palm with the opposite hand. You moved upward, your bare chest making contact with him as you did so. You placed your hand gently on the side of his face, and he leaned into it, lips traveling to kiss your palm. You smiled, reaching for his glasses. This was the last step before he was truly ready. The last piece of vulnerability before he was laid bare before you, the only thing he could hide behind. The light of the billboard coming in from the frosted glass of the window cast a red shadow across his cheekbones. You had opened the curtains, loving the way the light and shadows played along the lines of his body.

“Ready?” you asked gently, breaking the illusion for only a moment. Matt’s consent was the most important thing to you, and he extended the same courtesy to you when the roles were reversed.

“Yes.” Matt breathed, his voice low and ragged.

“Safe word?”

“I know it.” He replied, impatient.

“I need to hear you say it, or this stops.”

You already knew he was aware of the safe word. It was the same as yours, but you would not proceed until you heard it.

“Red.”

You moved even higher, placing a kiss upon his brow.

“Good boy.” You murmured, slipping back into your role.

You had taken your time, making sure each twist and knot of the rope was perfect and secure. Matt was already dying of anticipation, his senses heightening at the feeling of the rope sliding against his body and biting into his skin gently as you tightened it. When you had finally finished, you sat back on your heels to admire your work. You had made a simple box tie across his chest, anchored to his upper arms. He could move his hands, but his arms remained firmly at his sides.

“Just when I thought you could not get more attractive.” You remarked, running your hands over his chest to admire the harness you had made.

Matt let out a deep groan as your hands grazed his nipples.

“Already so sensitive. And I barely touched you.”

You made a point to linger with your hands a little longer, brushing against the sensitive flesh.  This man was tied up at your mercy, ready to take anything you would give him.  Your hands gripped the rope that expanded across the front of him, pulling him forward. You swept your lips across his, barely touching them at all. The lack of sensation was the worst form of torture you could inflict upon Matt. He let out a frustrated breath, leaning in further to try and feel you.  Using the leverage of the harness, you pushed Matt away gently.

“Lay down.” You instructed, trailing your mouth down his neck, his chest, his hips.

Matthew did as he was asked, chest fighting against the bite of the rope as his breathing increased. And then your mouth was on his cock. Matt gasped as your tongue flicked up the underside of him, his fingers splaying out across his sheets. The sensations your mouth alone brought him should be a sin in and of itself, but you felt so good wrapped around him. His thighs trembled as he felt himself slide deeper into your throat. Your pace was painstakingly slow, and Matt could barely stand it.

“Fuck. God.” He groaned, feeling himself getting closer to the edge after what felt like hours.

“Language, Matthew. The only god here is me.” You chastised, granting him respite from your lips and tongue for only a moment.  

Matt only whined in response to this as he slid back into your mouth once again. From that point forward, the only name he called out was yours.  

He was close, so close. Matt’s spine arched upward, arms straining against his bonds as heat surged through his body. More, just a little more.

Your hand joining in with your mouth was the added friction he needed. You heard the choked sound he made right before he was about to tumble over the edge leave his lips. You pulled away, removing all sensation of your touch just before he would have finished.

“Wha- why?” he gasped, confusion spreading across his face as the pleasure receded.

“Did you really think I would let you finish that easily? You know me better than that, Matthew. I want to hear you beg for it.”

Matt nodded, understanding. He hissed between gritted teeth as your nails dug into his thighs, cock twitching. You were going to leave him in ruins by the time this was over, and he reveled in the thought.

You pulled every beautiful moan, whine, and ragged breath from him that you could. Matt had still not begged by the third time you had edged him.  His groans bordered on sobs as you took your mouth away again.  You stood, walking around the other side of the bed to caress his face.

“Poor sweet boy, you’re doing so good. This can all be over if you want. All you have to do is say the word.” You teased, running your fingers through his damp hair.

It had been almost forty minutes since you had tied Matt up, the rope a deeper, darker red than it had been when you began. The color was still bright and brilliant against his chest and white dress shirt. It was soaked through with sweat; Matt was covered in it. His hair was so disheveled from struggling, falling beautifully in his glazed eyes. You were thrilled by the visual he gifted you every time you looked up; Matt’s chest rising and falling frantically, hands gripping the sheets as though they would save him from the punishment he craved.

He tilted his head upwards, toward you as he shook it. He did not want you to stop.

“Alright.” You whispered, smoothing the sweat from his forehead. You slid your hand down his arm, over the rope and eventually down to his hand, tapping once again. Matt tapped up into your palm.

“Please.”

You took your place on your knees before him once again. Matt would have to beg harder than that.

You grinned wickedly, placing your lips around him once again. A deep whine filled the room the moment the sensation of your touch resumed. Matt was already hypersensitive, and he felt like he would implode if you edged him again.  Within minutes, his hands were clawing the sheets, chest rising and falling rapidly. It was almost painful how desperately he needed to come. Everything was too much, too intense.

Your eyes drifted upward as you worked. Matt was so divine to look at, especially like this. Between his hair in his eyes, the stark contrast of the rope against him, and his tongue flicking out to wet his lips between the desperate, needy pants that spilled from his mouth? Matt was breathtaking in any state he was in, and you often thought about how that was possible. His lips parted, drawing in the oxygen he needed as he fought against the lines that bound him. Matt could taste you in the air and it was going to be his undoing. Hearing him moan and cry out just did something to you. Listening to Matt utterly lose control did something to you.

A hoarse plea rose above his ragged breaths.

A myriad of please, begging you not to stop, and your name left Matt’s mouth.

You decided that Matt had suffered enough, giving him the release he pleaded for. His spine lifted off the bed, head thrown back, as you tasted him on your tongue. You devoured all of him as he emptied himself into your mouth. Matt finished with a deep moan and your name on his lips, said with all the deference of a desperate prayer. Unfortunately for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, you were not finished. You kept your mouth on him, even after Matt had reached his peak, cruelly wrapping your arms around his thighs to keep him still as he thrashed. He was so sensitive, and you knew it had to be agonizing. For just a little longer, you would drag out his torment.  He had begged for you not to stop, so you weren’t going to. Not until a strangled whimper left him, tears brimmed his eyes and all he could say was please.

You finally, finally released him and he gasped, falling back against the bed. Matt’s head fell slack, cheek pressed against the soaked sheets. He was breathing hard, gradually coming back down. You rushed to the opposite side of the bed, kissing his forehead while you raked your fingers through his hair. His eyes slid closed, savoring the feeling.

“You did so good. I’m right here. Tell me what you need.”

“Off. Please.” He mumbled, flexing his arm against the rope.

“Do you want me to untie it or cut it off?”

You didn’t care about the rope; you cared that matt was comfortable.

“You can untie it.” He whispered, almost asleep.

“You’re going to have to sit up for me Matt. Can you do that?”

He nodded, using his hands to push himself up. You worked quickly, fingers working across the knots in perfect form. You had practiced so it would be flawless, you never wanted to put Matt in danger or be unable to free him. The last stretch of rope was removed and you took his shirt off for him, discarding it across the room. The impressions the rope had left behind were beautiful across his chest and arms; you wanted to reach over and touch them. Perhaps after you had gotten him water and cleaned him up, he was most likely too sensitive still. You had attempted to stand, but Matts arms had wrapped around you, holding you there. He pulled you closer so he could rest his head on your thigh, just craving your proximity and scent.

“Okay.” You conceded, petting him while you spoke softly.

“Was that okay? Did you enjoy yourself?”

Matt nodded, his stubble scraping against the skin of your thigh.

“What about you? Do you need…” he mumbled, ever the giver.

You shook your head.

“No, don’t worry about me. You can return the favor another time. You need water, a shower, clean sheets, and I think me petting your hair until you fall asleep have been more than earned.”

Matt smiled widely, whispering that he loved you as he snuggled closer to you.

[shedaresthedevil]

"‘Til We’re Saints just Swimming in our sins again."

Pairing: Matt Murdock X GN!Reader

18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: SPICE. WHOLE LOT OF SPICE. sub/dom. sub!matt, afab! Reader, choking,  mild sensory deprivation, teasing, cockwarming, unprotected sex (dont be a fool, wrap your tool)

A/N: If you see any mistakes....no you didn't. @matt-erialgirl​ this ones for you, my best avocado. 

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Tonight was different. You and Matt had discussed this previously, after you had both had an…enlightening evening.  Matt had been holding back, and you had given him permission to do whatever he wanted, whatever he needed. A safe word had been established, clothes forgotten, and the flames had ignited. You reached up and touched the bruises and marks on your shoulder, dragging your lip between your teeth just thinking about that night. You shivered at the memory of how you got them as well as the ones on your hips and thighs.  The dull ache a reminder that he had marked you, that you were his. You thought of the lines you had left along his spine; you had claimed him as yours in return.

��A strong arm that felt like home wrapped around your waist, pulling you from your reverie. You came back to reality as Matt nuzzled his face into you from behind. You would normally feel his teeth nipping at your soft skin by now, but all you felt were gentle lips and the friction of his stubble along your neck. It was as though he couldn’t get close enough to you. You, Matt, Karen and Foggy had gone to Josie’s to celebrate winning their latest case. Matt was utterly exhausted. He had not had a single drink of anything, not a drop, even though that was precisely what you were all here for. You did not drink for personal reasons, and none of them pushed as to why. You were always grateful that Karen and Foggy were great people. Of course they were, they were friends with Matt Murdock.  They were your friends too, and it was nice to have that.  

“Is something wrong? You won today. You deserve to celebrate Matty.” You asked quietly, reaching up to rake your hands through his hair.  Matt let out a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a purr. You knew how much he loved it when you played with his hair. You had figured out very quickly that one of Matt’s love languages was physical touch- both giving and receiving. It wasn’t until you had that conversation that you realized how deep that duality ran.

“I swear you were a cat in your past life. Talk to me. What’s going on in your head?” you nudged, ceasing the movement of your hand.

You could feel this beautiful man pouting at the loss of sensation without looking.  He wrapped his other arm around you, holding you tighter.

“I don’t feel like drinking tonight. I…want you to take me home.”

You twisted around in his arms to look at him, placing your hand along his check.

“Matty are you not feeling well? I will take you home if you’re not feeling alright or if you just want to leave, that’s fine too.”

You witnessed something you never thought you would see. A light flush spread across Matthew’s face.

You lowered your voice even further.

“Matty,  are you blushing?”

Matt placed his forehead against yours, his lips brushing against your own as he spoke, even more softly than normal.

“I feel fine. I want you to take me home.” He explained, putting more emphasis on the phrase you had both agreed upon.  This is how he told you needed it, needed you. He just needed enough of you to dull the pain.

“Oh.”

It finally clicked. The soft behavior, the lack of drinking, how defeated he seemed, regardless of the win. He no longer wanted to be in control; Matt wanted you to take the lead tonight- to be in control of the scene.  Matt had not blushed when he had expressed his occasional need to submit after you both absolutely destroyed each other. Maybe it was the dopamine high, the fact that he was so comfortable with you, or maybe it was because it was dark, and you couldn’t even see him well enough to notice. Maybe it was all three.  You had laid there, head on his chest as he ran his fingers gently across the marks he had made. Matt had told you everything he liked, and you had done the same. There was nothing embarrassing or secret between you two now, at least in that aspect. Usually, you liked to discuss what was and was not on the table before being physically intimate with a partner, but you and Matt read each other so well during intimate moments, it was like you were torn from the same book.

 Matt was almost always in control, in life, at work, behind closed doors. He just wanted to shut off his brain and be consumed by nothing else but you.  He had admitted that he had never told anyone else this certain need. Not even Elektra. She had met him halfway without prompt, and that was good enough at the time. With you, he knew with certainty that you would not judge him for it, and that was why he told you. You had always been submissive- you liked the abdication of control. You liked the feeling of not having to think- just feel- even if it was only for an hour or so.  You could understand why it appealed to him perfectly. You had never thought of yourself as dominant, even though it often surprised your partners that you were not. Your personality and your sexual preferences did not have to match. To you, it made sense and it had also made sense to Matt. But as of late, you had been thinking about it more and more.

The other night Matt had stumbled in the door, bloodied and beaten. You had stayed behind only because you were sick. Matt had fallen to his knees at the bottom of the stairs, unable to make it any further. You had rushed to him, pulling his mask away and searching his face.  He had braced himself against you, his hands on your thighs. You had reached down to caress his face, tilting it upward until your eyes found his. The blood. The kneeling. The desperate reach for you.

You don't know if it was the fever you had coursing through you, or the way the light settled on the angles of his face, but something inside you awakened, like a switch had been flipped. Just like it had now.

Matt detected the shift in your demeanor immediately. Your hand slid from his cheek to the back of his head, giving a light, slow tug.

“You want me to take you home, counselor?” you breathed, sliding your lips up to his ear.

You felt matt nod, a tremble moving through him.

“You’ll have to get on your knees and prove it when we get home then. I know you would look so pretty on your knees. I can’t wait to make you beg.”

This renaissance painting of a man released a soft moan against you at the thought.

“Let’s go say goodbye, we wouldn’t want to be rude.”

Matt had never excused himself from a situation faster.

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The cab ride home had been agonizing. Matt had opened the door for you, ever the gentlemen. You had slid into the seat and had gotten in beside you- but not into his seat. He was so close to you, craving the slightest amount of contact. You smiled lasciviously; why should the fun have to wait until you got back to his apartment?

“Move over. You’re too close. You’ll have to be patient, Matthew.”

You rarely used his full name unless you were being serious. The first time you were going to be in control was serious, at least to you. You had already planned most of it out, putting your knowledge and your psych degree to good use. He removed all points of contact quickly but reluctantly. You told your driver your destination, and the ride home began. You took Matt’s hand, giving it two quick taps to his palm.

It was code for “Is this okay? Are you okay?” .

Matt swallowed and nodded, tapping back. The anticipation was going to make him combust.

“I’m glad. Put your hand on my leg, you can touch me.”

He complied, quickly. But that didn’t matter.  Matt chose the top of your knee, right at the bottom of your thigh. It was a safe place to start, a smart choice. You raised a brow, your head tilting.

“You can go a little higher than that. Keep going until I tell you to stop.”

His hand slid up, slowly, not wanting to seem too eager.  His hand continued until it was nearly at the intersection between your thigh and your core.

“Stop. Don’t move your hand from that spot until we get home. If you move even a centimeter, I will drag this out far longer than I need to, understood?”

You watched the gears turn wildly in Matt’s head. He liked the sound of it being dragged out for as long as possible. He tightened his grip on your thigh, just a little.  He could smell you, taste how excited you were in the air, even through the denim of your jeans. You smirked; he had played right into your hand.

“You’re lucky you weren’t paying attention to the wording.  I thought you would be better at exploiting a loophole than that, counselor. I told you not to move from that spot, which you haven’t. Unless you did catch it and are trying to take advantage of that. Consider this your last warning.” You whispered harshly, digging your nails into the flesh of his shoulder as you leaned over.

“Could be both, truthfully. It sounds like something I might try in either case.” Matt remarked, testing to see how far he could go and what you would let him get away with.  His hand slid upward, just a bit until his little finger met your center. He could feel the heat rolling off you, grateful that you seemed to be enjoying this as much as he was. The straining of his length against the fabric of his pants was a testament to that.

Matthew heard you sigh and click your tongue in disapproval as you grabbed his wrist, moving his hand back to its originally intended resting place.

“Guess I’ll have to hold it here myself, since you can’t control your hands.”

“Such a shame.” He agreed, satisfied with your reaction.

The cab pulled up to your building, and you paid him, tipping a little extra. You both exited the cab and Matt reached for your hand to help you out after walking to your side.  You took it, letting go the minute you were on your feet and upright. You continued to evade his touch at every attempt to make contact. You had asked one thing of Matt and he had already disobeyed. You both finally made it in the door.

“Sweetheart why-”

You whirled, grabbing his tie firmly, looping it around your hand and using it to push gently against his chest, his back pressed flush against the door. Matt’s breathing became heavier, and you had barely touched him. You let out a breathy laugh, the one you knew drove him wild, pushing him even further into the door with your body. He sighed as you ran your free hand down his hair, his face, and finally coming to rest on his chest.

“You disobeyed me, Matt. I gave you a simple task and you already overstepped.”  You explained, unwrapping your hand from his tie and placing it on the side of his face. You stood on your tip toes to kiss him, gently at first, the contact quickly spiraling into fervent motions. Matts groaned under you as you nipped his lip, his tongue sliding into your mouth. Your hand found its way under his jaw, and you used that leverage to pull him away from you. Matt was panting now, his already perfect lips reddened and swollen.

“Do you know what happens to submissives that don’t listen?”

Silence.

“They get punished, Matthew. I’m going to take away the one thing you truly want from this.” You purred, removing all physical contact from him.

Matt swallowed, hard.

Good. He was taking you seriously now.

“We’re just getting started.”

You took hold of his tie once more, leading him to the living area. You stopped, placing a pillow on the floor for his knees. You were cunning, not cruel. You relinquished your grip on his tie, trading it for his hand, tapping twice once more. Matt nodded once again and you let it go reluctantly, knowing that that was the last contact with his hands you would have until you felt the need to check on him again.

“You will not touch me again with your hands until I explicitly ask you to do so, understood?” you instructed, taking his red sunglasses off and placing them safely on the bookshelf near the fridge. You walked back, still not having received a reply.

“I need an answer, Matthew.” You demanded, trailing your fingers across the back of his shoulders as you circled him.  You took pleasure in seeing his hands ball into fists, contract, and then release. He was fighting with himself, fighting for his willingness to let go completely. Matt closed his eyes, sighing.

“Yes, I understand.” He breathed finally.

“Good boy.” You praised him, dropping to your knees where the pillow lay waiting.

The commendation made him blush lightly, sending electricity straight between his legs.  Someone telling him he was good was normal, but coming from you? It felt incredible, like every nerve ending in his body was aflame.

You connected your phone to the blue tooth speaker in the kitchen, setting it down on the coffee table. You did not want to deprive him of his hearing, remembering how terrifying that was for him. You did want to make it harder for him to ‘see’ you though. The heavy bass was low, steady- it would be enough to distract him. You looked up to see his brow furrowed, and then relax as he realized what you were doing. You smiled to yourself as you began to untie his shoes, asking for him to lift his feet so you could remove each of them, as well as his socks. You sat up, gliding your hands up each of his legs as you rose, purposely running your hand up the prominent ridge that was caged beneath the fabric. Still his hands remained at his sides, even if they did twitch at the contact. You undid his belt, pulling it out of the loops so slowly Matt felt like screaming. He felt you unfasten his dress pants and stepped out of them when you asked.

You stood, folding them carefully and placing them on top of his shoes that you had set to the side of the coffee table. You freed him from his tie even more slowly than his belt, if that was possible, and started on the buttons of his white shirt.  He shuddered as you moved behind him, removing the fabric from his body and leaving him in only the silk of his black briefs. The air of the apartment felt almost frigid on his heated skin.  Matts entire body looked like it was vibrating with anticipation.  He was unsure if it was in his head or if it was truly happening.  He gasped as he felt your nails graze along the skin of his hips, you pulling him closer so you were chest to chest. When had you moved from behind him? His hands shot out into the air, seeking to steady himself, not to touch you.

You laughed again and it was the only noise you had made in the past minute. You had been right – the music was distracting enough that it was harder for him to know where you were. Your hands were all over him, moving so achingly slow. Matt let out a low sound, almost like a whine as your hand slithered up the side of his neck, coming to rest on the back of his jaw. Matt leaned into your hand, pliant and desperate already. You withdrew your hand, much to Matt’s dismay. You began to take off your clothes, still so close to him that he could feel the fabric slide against him as you removed them. His hands remained still, though not without struggle. Unlike the care you had shown his belongings, you tossed yours into one of the armchairs, leaving you in only your underclothes. You had bought them specifically for Matt and felt extremely fortunate that this was the day you had decided to wear them. Any other day, by the time he was this riled up? They would have been torn to shreds. You pressed yourself back against him, making sure that he felt what they were made of.

“Are these…” he trailed off, but you knew the end of the question. Silk

“Yes, your favorite. Such a shame you aren’t allowed to touch them yourself.” You teased emphasizing your point by brushing the side of your chest against his as you turned away from him.

“What color?” he murmured, sounding like he was about to break already.

Matt let out a shuddered gasp or a groan every time you touched him, continuing your painfully unhurried ministrations. There were light touches, some scratching, digging your nails in, and soft hands over his skin to soothe it once again. You had threatened to drag it out, and you kept your word. You gently instructed him to kneel, making sure he had the pillow beneath him. You placed his hands on his thighs, palms upward and told him to keep them that way.

After what felt like hours, you answered. “What color do you think they are?”

Matt knew you were right in front of him, your scent even stronger than it was before. Mixed with the perfumed oil you wore? He was going to lose his mind.  Matt tilted his head upward towards the sound of your voice.

“Black?”

“That’s my favorite color. They’re your favorite color. They’re a deep burgundy, the same color as the other Daredevil suit.” You described, leaning down so your lips were next to his ear. He felt the feather light touch of your hair on his shoulder. You began to sweep kisses down Matt’s neck, his head dropping back even further at the feeling. Your arms wrapped around him, clawing lightly across his shoulder blades. Matt inhaled sharply as he felt you apply pressure to the curve of his shoulder with your teeth.

You hesitated, waiting for an objection. You received none, so you continued. The sound that came out of Matt Murdock was so beautiful and you loved every second of it. You proceeded to leave marks all over the front of him, your hands running over his body softly in contrast. Satisfied with your work, you brought your lips back to his. Matt kissed you like you were the only source of air in the room; this was the only way you were allowing him to touch you of his own volition, and he took advantage of it.  Through all of this, Matt had kept his hands to himself, and you knew that had taken great restraint.  You decided to reward his good behavior. You slid off your underclothes, placing them in his hands as you praised him once again. You wore nothing but the blue goldstone crystal that hung around your neck. You never took it off, and Matt had never asked why. You would tell him, when you were ready.

“You’re doing so good for me Matty. You can feel them if you want to.”

His hands immediately grasped the fabric, fingers flying over the soft silk. Some of it was darkened and wet from you. Matt’s tongue flicked out between his lips, salivating at the thought of how wet you were right now. He heard the leather of the couch shift as you sat down and leaned forward, extending out your hand.

“Give them back now. Please.”

He did not want to. He wasn’t sure when or if you were going to let him touch you again. If these strips of silk and thread were as close as he got, he wanted to keep them. Begrudgingly, Matthew did as he was asked, handing them over to you.  Matt was so frustrated and over stimulated he almost wanted to cry.  You could see the distressed look on his face.  You had tortured him quite a bit, without even touching the most rigid part of him. He had not touched you or tried to. Not once. But you could not give in this soon.

“What do you want?”

“I want to taste you, please.”

Matt’s response was quick, eager.  He needed something, anything that you would give him.

You tilted your head considering, twisting the cord around your neck between your fingers. Matt would normally wrap his arms under your thighs and hold onto your hips when he used his tongue on you, that way his hands were always close when he needed them. This beautifully desperate man was literally begging to taste you at your feet. How could you deny him?

 “You did keep your hands to yourself, and you have been good. You have my permission to do so. Mouth only. Keep your hands on your knees or the floor.”  

You gasped at how swiftly his mouth was on you. Matt kissed the inside of your thigh, up to your hip, and back down again. You were his God tonight, and he was already on his knees- he may as well show his reverence at the altar of your hips. Matt descended on your core like a man starved. You were so drenched, and it was all for him. If heaven did not exist after this life, at least he found it between your thighs.

You reached down and buried your hands in his hair. Matt groaned underneath you, silently begging for you to pull his waves. You obliged, and he thanked you by working his tongue in circles against the most sensitive part of you. Within minutes, you were close to the edge. You felt it building, heat rushing up your legs. Matt was vicious and determined, not easing up for even a second. Your entire lower body began to tremble, and you swore you could feel him smirking between your legs. You only got vocal when you were close, and the symphony breathy, almost whispery moans spilling from your throat were Matt’s indication. He could hear your heart rate increasing wildly- any second now. Your thighs closed around his shoulders, and you finished with his name on your lips.  Matt continued to lick languidly at your core- you hadn’t told him to stop, so he wouldn’t. Suddenly you were moving, kissing him roughly, tasting yourself on his tongue and reaching down to tug at the only article of clothing that separated you.

“Off.” You growled against his mouth, standing with him as he rose to obey your command.  You broke away to look at him, now free of any barrier between you.

“Sit down, now.”

Matt hurriedly followed your order, aching for you to touch him.

“Put your hands behind your back, you’re still not allowed to touch me.”

He unwillingly did so. Matt wanted to touch you so much, the frustration that nearly brought him to tears earlier returning. He stopped breathing as he felt your legs straddle him, staying just high enough that you wouldn’t touch his cock.

“Please.” He begged, writhing his hips beneath you, hopelessly searching for friction.

Hearing Matt beg was threatening to drive you completely insane, just like hearing him moan did. You smiled wickedly as you ripped a guttural noise from him, just from running your center over the length of him.  His head fell against the back of the couch as you reached between your bodies to line yourself up with him. You were wet enough that he was fully sheathed within you in one motion. Matt’s hips moved upward instinctively, but you made him stop, regardless of how good it felt for you. Oh, gods did he feel good. You had no intention of moving- not yet anyway. Matt was breaking apart underneath you as you just sat there, tracing your hands along his chest. You would rock your hips occasionally, just to keep him on his toes. You wanted to test a theory, so you slipped your hand around Matt's throat. You felt him tense up. That was a dangerous and vulnerable place for him, and you wanted to make sure that his love of choking went both ways. Matt’s eyes brimmed with tears that threatened to spill over. He was so frustrated.

“Please.” He begged once more, as though it was the only word he knew anymore.

You applied pressure to the sides, only obstructing his blood flow. The sound that Matt made was unholy as you began to ride him, on hand on his throat, and one on the back of the couch for balance.

He was more vocal than you were normally, but he had never made this much noise. The amount of over stimulation he felt was beyond anything he had ever had. Matt was so sensitive to begin with, and the amount of hell you had just put him through was astronomical. You felt so good, and that was all that mattered in this moment. He knew he was not going to last long, and neither were you.

You felt the muscles that wrapped around him start to contract, and so did he. Your hand was still around his throat, loosened to give him a break. He stayed still, letting you do all the work just like you wanted. You were so close, and the small hitch in Matts breathing told you he was too. His breathing became more ragged, mixed in with groans and pleas of your name.

“You can touch me, take what you need.” You granted him permission, knowing he would finish any moment.

Matthews arms shot out from behind him, wrapping around your back and clawing at your spine like it would anchor him there. He sank his teeth into your neck, leaving marks to match his own. Matt tumbled over the edge with a cry that resembled a sob and he continued to thrust into you, burying his face into your throat. That was all you needed to follow him.  Your second orgasm hit you in waves, hard and fast.

It was your turn to say please, to beg.

“Matty stop, please.” You whispered.

Matt ceased the movement of his hips, the tears that you had seen in his eyes had fallen. You wiped them away as his hands roamed over you. You touched your forehead to his and held him.

“You did so well. You’re here, you’re safe. I love you.” You breathed between giving him gentle kisses and running your fingers through his hair again.

Matt’s breathing soon returned to normal, and he rested his head against your chest.

“Did you get what you needed, my love?”

He nodded, exhausted.

“Im glad. We should get you cleaned up and into something soft, don’t you think?”

His arms wrapped tighter around you in protest.

“Matty.”

“Just a couple more minutes.” He mumbled, looking like he would pass out any second.

“No, sweet boy. Now. If we wait any longer, you’re going to fall asleep. Ill wash you and your hair. You won’t have to do a thing.”

He groaned but concluded that you were right. His body jerked as you untangled yourself from him. You went to start the water in the shower, gathering up grey sweats and a hoodie for him and one of his bigger shirts and a pair of shorts for you. You helped him up from the couch and into the tub, watching the relaxation set in as the hot water ran in cascades down his body.

“Why didn’t you physically restrain me? Why did you only tell me to keep my hands to myself?” he asked , some of the high wearing off.

“Because I knew I didn’t need it. Your primary love languages are touch and acts of service Matt. I used that to my advantage. Not touching me was agonizing, but your need to please me kept your hands away. I also don’t have proper rope right now and restraining someone with anything but that is a good way to hurt yourself.”

“Huh.” He nodded as you washed his hair.

“You could absolutely be a villain with the way your brain works sometimes you know.” He concluded after some time. Matt was now washing your hair for you, even though you wanted to spoil him.

“You deserve aftercare too.”

Thank the gods for this man.

After toweling off, you both dressed, got water and got into bed. You curled around him, nuzzling into his chest and leaving kisses on all the marks you made. The sound of his breathing steadied and slowed within five minutes.  You looked up at him, asking silently how you ever deserved him, drifting to sleep at the thought of all the things you would do for him tomorrow. Matt Murdock deserved the world, and you would give it to him in whatever way you could

[shedaresthedevil]

ONE RESTRAINED SUBMI S S IVE MATT MURDOCK COMING UP.

We’re doing it , WE’RE WRITING IT RIGHT NOW @pleasedin​