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#daredevil x female reader
babygirlmurdock · 4 months
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A Moment of Serenity
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
Summary: Matt comes home from a rough night as Daredevil, only to experience one of the most intimate moments of his life.
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: None! A whole lotta feelings though!
a/n: This is inspired by that one reddit post called, “My girlfriend washed my hair today” and it’s one of the most Matt Murdock posts I’ve ever read. There’s not a lot of dialogue which is out of my comfort zone because I love being chatty! But anyway, I hope all my “someone give Matt Murdock a hug” gang enjoys!
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It was late at night. You must have fallen asleep on the couch waiting up for Matt to make sure he got home okay after his night out as Daredevil. Your eyes slowly opened and you took a minute to adjust to the bright light from your phone. 2:27 am. God, he’s never out this late. You started to collect yourself from his couch and walked to his bed wrapped in his soft plaid blanket. You were almost to the bedroom when you heard the rooftop door open and felt a bit of the cold breeze of late autumn air.
“Hey,” you spoke barely above a whisper. Your voice was soft, probably due to the fact that you haven’t spoken in a few hours. You looked up at Matt adorn in his red Devil suit. His chest slowly rose and fell as he made his way down the stairs. He didn’t speak. Just gives you a small smile as he removes his gloves and cowl. He sat down on the stairs to remove his boots and you made your way over to him to caress his face and kissed his forehead. Usually when Matt kept to himself after a long night, that meant he didn’t want to talk much. Which, you respected. If you were out bloodying gang members and other sorts of criminals, you wouldn’t want to talk about it either. You stepped back as he stood up to move towards his closet and noticed Matt wincing in pain as he reached towards the back of his suit to unzip himself.
“Oh, here, let me help you,” you put the blanket on his arm chair and made your way over to him to the back of him to unzip his suit. You peeled the suit over his shoulders so he didn’t have to lift his arm or move his body much.
“Thank you,” Matt whispered to you. You hated seeing him in pain. You immediately noticed his new scrapes and bruises on his ribs and back. He stripped down to his underwear and put his suit back in the trunk and pushed it into the closet and gently shut the doors.
“You’re welcome,” you said back to him as Matt made his way over to the bathroom. You heard the shower start. You listened to the shower door open until you made your way to the bathroom as well to join him. You undressed yourself and opened the shower door to be met with a very mopey Matt. He reached for the shampoo as you grabbed it from his hands.
“Let me do it,” you said to him. You moved yourself so now your back was hitting the water and Matt’s back was facing the tiles. You squeezed some of his shampoo in your hands and you started to lather it in his hair. Matt’s eyes fell shut and his shoulders slumped a little at your touch. He needed this. You can tell he had a really bad night. He wasn’t angry at you, he was more so angry at himself. Cursing himself for not putting somebody in a coma tonight. Matt’s hands were resting on your waist as you massaged the shampoo deeper onto his scalp. His eyes were shut as he was fully indulged in you. Listening to your steady breathing and heartbeat helped him with nights like these.
You took the shower nozzle off the holder and began to rinse Matt’s hair. Your gaze was soft on him. Admiring the beauty he holds. God, he’s so beautiful. You were so lucky to have him. You used your fingernails to lightly scratch his head. He let out a soft moan chased by your name. You put the shower nozzle back and grabbed his body wash. Lathering it up in your hands, you begin to massage Matt’s upper body, being careful around his new injuries. You trailed gentle kisses along his shoulders and chest.
“I’m sorry you had a shit night, Matt,” you expressed to him as his empty gaze fell upon you. His eyes were glossy. Almost like he was fighting back tears. “Are you crying? Am I hurting you?”
“No,” he scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’m just so used to people who are cold with me. I’m not used to this kind of thing.”
“Oh,” you were caught by surprise. Matt was always so kind and gentle with you. He understood your feelings more than anyone ever could. You can’t imagine how anyone could be cold to him.
He cupped your face, your eyes met his. You and Matt have been intimate with each other but nothing came close to the intimacy you two are sharing right now.
“I love you. So much. I am the luckiest man alive. You take such good care of me, and I don’t think there are enough words in the English language to express how much I am in love with you,” Matt said directly to your face. Tears stung your eyes. You always knew Matt felt this way about you, but you never heard him say he was in love with you. You blinked away any tears trying to escape your eyes and Matt’s lips met yours with such delicacy and care. Like he was handling a rare flower.
You pulled away, “I always knew the Devil had a sweet side,” you slyly said. “I love you more than anything in this world, Matthew. You deserve every single ounce of love and care I give you. Even though your brain makes you think otherwise.”
Matt kissed you again, and again, and again. Until he was peppering kisses all over your face. He kept on reminding you how much he loves you. You had a feeling he wanted to spend the rest of his days with you.
You two finished up the shower and made your ways to bed to go to sleep. You climbed into the sheets after brushing your hair. You laid your head on Matt’s chest listening to his heart as you both drift off to sleep.
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bellaxgiornata · 10 months
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List of Installments for Falling For the Devil
Warnings/tags: 18+; series contains lots of smut, fluff, angst, humor
Summary: This is a very long series/collection of one-shots about a nervous/awkward journalist Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock. Meant to feel like a realistic look into dating Matthew Murdock and all the sweet, vulnerable, sexy, and dark sides that come with him. Reader also gradually gains more confidence in and out of the bedroom as the relationship progresses.
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List of Installments
Part One: "The Night You Met"
Part Two: "The One-Sided Pining"
Part Three: "The Time Daredevil Saved You"
Part Four: "The Night You Almost Kissed"
Part Five: "The Wedding Day"
Part Six: "The Wedding Night"
Part Seven: "The Post-Wedding Brunch"
Part Eight: "The First Date"
Part Nine: "The Pool Game"
Part Ten: "The Growing Insecurity"
Part Eleven: "The Night Together"
Part Twelve: "The Week You Tried to Avoid Matt"
Part Thirteen: "The First Time He Walked You Home"
Part Fourteen: "The Time Matt Got Jealous"
Part Fifteen: "The Vulnerable Side of Matt"
Part Sixteen: "The Time You Saved Daredevil"
Part Seventeen: "The Revelation in the Rain"
Part Eighteen: "The Visit to Fogwell's"
Part Nineteen: "The Time You Almost Told Him"
Part Twenty: "The 'I Told You So'"
Part Twenty-One: "The Time You Did Tell Him"
Part Twenty-Two: "The Night You Couldn't Sleep"
Part Twenty-Three: "The Day of Phone Tag"
Part Twenty-Four: "The Devil and the Baker"
Part Twenty-Five: "The Leather Couch"
Part Twenty-Six: "The Big Win"
Part Twenty-Seven: "The Grocery Run"
Part Twenty-Eight: "The Early Morning Wake Up"
Part Twenty-Nine: "The Questions Over Coffee"
Part Thirty: "The Introduction at Clinton Church"
Part Thirty-One: "The Flight to Chicago"
Part Thirty-Two: "The Night He Couldn't Sleep"
Part Thirty-Three: "The Thanksgiving Dinner"
Part Thirty-Four: "The Ex Encounter"
Part Thirty-Five: "The Very Bad Day"
Part Thirty-Six: "The Cozy Night In"
Part Thirty-Seven: "The Bad Dream"
Part Thirty-Eight: "The Black Suit"
Part Thirty-Nine: "The Secret Santa"
Party Forty: "The Secrets in Your Suitcase"
Party Forty-One: "The First Half of the Trip"
Part Forty-Two: "The Argument in the Hotel Room"
Part Forty-Three: "The End of the Trip"
Part Forty-Four: "The Christmas Eve Party"
Party Forty-Five: "The Christmas Dinner"
Part Forty-Six: "The Night of Christmas"
Part Forty-Seven: "The Devil in Need"
Part Forty-Eight: "The Perfume"
Part Forty-Nine: "The Cemetery Visit"
Part Fifty: "The Interview"
Part Fifty-One: "The Devil's Wrath"
Part Fifty-Two: "The Breaking Point"
Party Fifty-Three: "The Downward Spiral"
Part Fifty-Four: "The Impossible Friendship"
Part Fifty-Five: "The Disheartening Valentine's Day"
Part Fifty-Six: "The Nightmare"
Part Fifty-Seven: "The Rough Conversation"
Part Fifty-Eight: "The Aftermath"
Part Fifty-Nine: "The Necessary Conversation"
Part Sixty: "The Long Awaited Kiss"
Part Sixty-One: "The Things You Didn't Know"
Part Sixty-Two: "The Pinky Promise"
Part Sixty-Three: "The Dinner Party"
Part Sixty-Four: "The Lesson at Fogwell's"
Part Sixty-Five: "The Shower"
Part Sixty-Six: "The Night Out"
Part Sixty-Seven: "The Morning in Bed"
Part Sixty-Eight: "The Sleepover"
Part Sixty-Nine: "The Lunch Date Delay"
Part Seventy: "The Thoughts About the Future"
Part Seventy-One: "The Sleepwalking"
Part Seventy-Two: "The Belated Valentine's"
Part Seventy-Three: "The Easter Sunday"
Part Seventy-Four: "The Boy's Night at Josie's"
Part Seventy-Five: "The Hangover"
Part Seventy-Six: "The Request"
Party Seventy-Seven: "The Very Frustrating Day"
Part Seventy-Eight: "The Night You Cooked Together"
Part Seventy-Nine: "The Hell Day"
Part Eighty: "The Revisitation of Moving In"
Part Eighty-One: "The Nighttime Visit"
Party Eighty-Two: "The Overload"
Part Eighty-Three: "The Really Bad Idea"
Part Eighty-Four: "The Late Night Snack Hunt"
Part Eighty-Five: "The Romantic Voicemails"
Part Eighty-Six: "The Moving Day"
Part Eighty-Seven: "The Week of Distractions"
Part Eighty-Eight: "The Birthday Brunch"
Part Eighty-Nine: "The Stray"
Part Ninety: "The Ring"
Part Ninety-One: "The Helping Hand"
Part Ninety-Two: "The Recurring Nightmare"
Part Ninety-Three: "The Unexpected Introduction"
Part Ninety-Four: "The Evening of Mistakes" {Coming Soon}
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devils-dares · 1 year
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Steal My Warmth
summary: matt lets you use him as a pillow.
pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader
warnings: none! fluffy fluff here
wordcount: 379
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The way Matt loved you was devastating. He ached when you weren’t near, and when you were he found his fingers were always reaching for you to come a little closer. His hands always found themselves wrapped around your midsection, the extra skin letting him steal an abundance of warmth and softness from you.
When you’d asked him if you could slip under the blanket with him on the couch, he told you you didn’t have to ask as he peeled away the thick fluffy cover.
“C’mere.” You try to slot yourself between him and the couch but he pulls you to lay on him directly, your head sinking into his chest as he tucks you in.
“Cozy?” You nodded, feeling his fingers caress your skin, his touch sliding lower and lower after starting at your waist.
“Watch the hands.” He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He clicks resume on his podcast as you get comfy on his chest and scroll through your phone. Quiet domesticity takes over the apartment, your even breath mirrors his as the two of you soak in each other's presence.
“It should be a crime to be this soft and warm with that much muscle.” You say, poking his abs. He chuckles, pulling your body closer to his.
“Feel free to come steal some warmth more often.” You nuzzle further and he gasps at the feeling of your cold nose pressing against his bare chest. Your eyelids grow heavy and you glance up to Matt, who was listening to his podcast. He looked at peace, his fingers still moving, albeit slowly, across your skin while your head moved up and down gently from his breaths. You smile, your eyes shutting more and more as you finally succumb to sleep with comfort personified who is Matt Murdock.
His attention is drawn to you only when your phone lands face down on his skin, the glass screen chilling his body. He brings his hand up to thread through your hair, dull nails gently scratching at your scalp. With his other hand he pauses his podcast and drops his headphones to the ground quietly. He moves your phone away and pulls the blanket up a bit higher to cover your body.
“Sweet dreams, my love.”
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notquitecanon · 2 months
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Call Me... // Matt Murdock x Reader
Summary: You're the Devil of Hell's Kitchen's favorite late night nurse, but he's been avoiding your fire escape since an unfortunate accident. You both miss each other just enough for some emotions to slip through the cracks. You don't even know his name, but you'll settle just to know he's alright.
TW: blood, canon typical injuries, kind of hurt comfort, Matt's a self sabotaging martyr as usual, kinda sunshine!reader??? maybe if you squint
Bolded line is from a prompts list from several months ago so I lost the link. If it's yours let me know and I'll link it!
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"I haven’t seen you in weeks… I’m worried you’re in another dumpster somewhere. Just call me back…please?" You whispered harshly into the phone’s receiver, burner cell jammed between your ear and shoulder as you fumbled with your keys. 
It was true. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen hadn’t graced your apartment in weeks after three months of near nightly visits. At first it was serious stuff, stab wounds and splinted bones. It took two weeks for him to crack a joke. But once that stone cold exterior cracked, it was shattered. He was kind, sweet even. Every few visits, he’d bring by supplies to replenish your kit and, usually, with a bottle of wine in the bag.  Emergencies turned to what he called ‘urgencies’- wounds just barely deep enough to justify stitches and dislocated joints. Which then turned into stopping by at the end of his nights for a ‘check up’, where he took advantage of your central heating, warm beverages, and warmer presence. Then, some Yakuza jackass appeared on your doorstep three weeks ago, fortunately your devil hadn’t been far behind. He took care of him, and you figured the thug, now minus fifteen teeth, would have a hard time telling anyone where to find you. Nevertheless, you found the ‘available apartments’ section of the newspaper taped to your seventh floor window. That had been the last night ’the devil’ had paid you a visit. 
"Anyways… I guess I'm asking for a sign of life? Something? Please? Bye." You pleaded, voice kinder this time as you managed to finally unlock the door and slip inside. Locking the knob, deadbolt, chain, and newly installed jam that had been mysteriously delivered not too long ago. With a huff, you discarded your keys, and bag in the entry way before delving deeper into your dark apartment, flicking lights on as you went. 
"You really need to start locking your windows." A deep voice sounded as you rounded the corned into your living room. Heart jumping to your throat and stomach dropping, you let out a yelp as instinct took over. The familiarity of the voice didn’t register as adrenaline flooded your system. 
"SHIT!" You shrieked, flinching backwards so fast that the hallway runner rug caught under your feet, sending you careening into the wall. Without thinking, you put the Yankee’s starting pitcher to shame as you pitched your phone at light speed towards the voice. Of course, the shadow effortlessly caught it.
"Shit!" The intruder mirrored at your fall, and it was then that you realized who it was. As you collected yourself a slew of curses slipped out, looking into the dim living room to find the Devil of Hell’s kitchen slowly rising off the couch, he was already sans black shirt and mask, "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you." 
"Yeah, well, mission failed." You muttered, pressing a hand to your chest as if that would still your pounding heart. Slowly, you finished your shuffled into the living room, flicking on the overheads as you went. "Shit, you could have called. Sit back down."  
You could have used the heads up, the gash across his chest looked serious, and not in the cute excuse to see each other way ’serious’ had meant last month. He breathed a sarcastic laugh, tossing your phone back to you before producing a shattered burner cell with a… bullet hole?
"You have a funny way of saving my skin when I least expect it." He tried a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes, picking up your pace as you retrieved your first aid kit from under your kitchen sink, "Consider this a sign of life?" 
"A sign of barely alive, more like." You answered, rounding back around the couch to sit across from him. Harshly pulling on a pair of rubber gloves and splaying out an array of supplies both his lap and yours. "You’re unbelievable. Almost a month of no contact and then you just appear and leak blood on my couch." 
"I’m sorry." He breathed, face angled to where your knees now touched. You rolled your eyes, ripping into a packet of gauze and setting to work dabbing the blood. And he sounded sorry, pitiful even, looked it to. His unseeing eyes stared straight past you and yet somehow straight through you at the same time, mouth settled in a puppy like frown. He told you once that he was catholic, and you now wandered if that’s why he was so good at looking guilty.  
"If it wasn’t for the newspapers, I would have thought you were dead." You drove your point home, with a small voice, too angry to be a whisper and yet too concerned to be a hiss. The evidence of his activities was written across his bare torso in older cuts, new and fading bruises, and a couple of bandages that he’d obviously applied himself, "And you’ve obviously been busy." 
"Figured out how the Yakuza found you. Handled it. Didn’t want to lead anyone else back here." His explanation was strained, pushed through gritted teeth as you applied antiseptic to the largest, freshest gash. You cooed small apologies, irritated as you were with the vigilante, you hated being the source of his pain. You picked up a suture kit, quickly threading the needle. 
"Well, as far as excuses go, that’s not the worst." You muttered, half joking and half touched he’d go through this for you. You’d known he was a walking martyr from the moment you’d met him, but still. He’d taken the beatings so you’d sleep safe. 
That was something else, "Lean back, gotta stitch you up." 
He complied as you stood, using your shoulder to nudge the floor lamp so the light was better for you. Even then, you position on the coffee table wasn't cutting it as leaning forward cast a shadow over his chest. Neither was kneeling in front of him, as the gash was too far up his chest for your position to be adequate. You muttered a quick apology as you flitted around him, trying to find the best place to plant yourself. Beside him on the couch might work, but you’d be straining to hold yourself up at that angle and keep your hands steady. 
Bloody-knuckled hands found your waist with amazing precision for a blind man, easily lifting you and placing you over one thigh after he spread his legs a bit wider. He held you steady, angling his eyes to the ceiling to give you the broadest view of his chest. One of your knees pressed into the couch cushion between his legs and the other pressed into the outside of his thigh, caging the his black-clad thigh between your own like a seat. If your weight bothered him, he gave no indication. He did however turn his ear ever so slightly towards you and smirk ever so devilishly, "How’s that?" 
"Very convenient, thanks." You forced your voice to be flat instead of the breathlessness you felt. Stupid charming vigilante. To his credit, it gave you the perfect access without blocking the light. And if you got to feel ever twitch of his insanely muscular thigh between yours? Added benefit. The devil, even bruised and bleeding, was insanely warm and smelled like something out of a terribly sinful romance novel. The manly small of musk and sweat should have been revolting, but the way it mixed with a fading aftershave would have been distracting if you weren’t so focused on the drip of crimson down his toned abdomen. Before your train of thought could derail again, you gave a quiet warning watching your patient steel himself before you began running the needle and thread through the torn skin.  Other than an initial hiss and the clenching of his fists against your waist, he went silent as you worked. 
The two of you sat in an almost tense silence. He could feel how close your face was to his chest, the waves of breaths washing over his skin, the smell of shampoo in your hair faint enough to know you’d put off washing it, the sound of your heartbeat slowing back down after he’d gotten you excited, the slight sound of your teeth worrying the inside of your lip. He knew he shouldn't be here, Claire could have patched him up, probably would have if he asked really nicely. He probably could have if he really tried, but he’d just missed you. Between Fisk and the Hand and the law firm… everything was messy. You were still simple and sweet and far more caring than he thought he deserved, a balm just to be near you. 
"Could you talk to me?" He asked, so quietly you almost missed it in your focus. You tied off another knot, seeing him wince. 
"Hmm?" You hummed, pausing to look up from the half stitched wound. His eyes lowered to your face, his clenched hands at your waist loosening to rub the fabric of your shirt between his fingers. You always wore such soft things, he wondered if you’d be so soft underneath. You took opportunity in the pause to wipe some of the blood from his skin. 
"I’ve missed your voice, even if you want to yell at me or be upset with me, just let me hear it." His voice was like a prayer, so sincere it made you shift on his leg. What was in the holy water at his church? 
"I’m not going to yell at you, honey. I’m not going to kick a man when he’s stabbed." You shook your head, rearranging yourself to get that optimal view again, grazing a gloved finger over a purple bruise on his ribs, "Besides, someone beat me to it." 
He chuckled at the lame joke, leaning his head back against the back of the couch again as you began stitching once more. Instead of scolding him, you caught him up on all the details and minor drama that he’d missed over the last few weeks. The funny things and annoyances from work, things your family had sent you, what your friends had been up to, your opinion on current happenings in the city. He listened to you like it was the most interesting thing he’d heard all year, chiming in with questions and quips of his own. You’d missed his voice too, not that you’d boost his ego by telling him that. 
"There." You finally finished, tying the last stitch and taping a bandage over it. The vigilante under you didn’t make a move to leave, instead his hands kept you still on his lap. You breathed a laugh, moving on to everything else. You removed the old bandages, giving half healed wounds a thorough cleaning. You applied comical Disney bandaids to the more minor cuts on his hands and were even brazen enough to kiss his split knuckles. The vigilante seemed to preen under you attention as you cleaned and applied Vaseline to his busted lip. As if it was too good to be true, his lip twitched downwards as his eye brows furrowed. His face angled away from yours, his unseeing eyes falling on the window he’d come through. 
"You know, the burner phone's been broken for two weeks now. Took the bullet not too long after the yakuza paid you a visit. Couldn't bring myself to throw it away, a little piece of you." He admitted, a pitiful smile twitched up before pulling downward again. He groaned, starting to shift you off his lap, “I shouldn’t be here, it’s not right.”
You allowed yourself to fall to the cushion beside him, but snatched the black shirt away from him before he could make a move for it. He’d been too busy letting his hands linger on your waist. 
“Why not?” You asked sternly, tucking the shirt behind your back as if the vigilante in front of you couldn't probably drop you six ways to Tuesday if he wanted to. Not that he could ever consider raising a hand to you, “You got hurt, I patch you up. Seems right to me.” 
The devil tensed, first leaning away and then leaning really close. His freshly bandaged fingers tapped your knee as if to emphasize his point, “I don’t deserve this kindness. And even if I did, if I could, if I was good, I would stop coming here so you could live in peace.” 
You were a silent for a moment, wanting to make sure your response was exactly how you wanted it to come across.  
“The third time you fell through my window, you told me that if I ever wanted to be left alone, all I’d need to do was change the candle I keep by the window.” You recounted his words. You hadn’t known about his senses at the time, he was still cryptic and mysterious. But you’d never changed the candle, buying new ones of the same scent when it would burn out, “You warned me what might happen. You gave me an out, one that I continuously chose to ignore. You did everything in your power to protect me when that choice had consequences. That was good, because you are good. And good people deserve kindness. You put too much on yourself, honey.”  
As you spoke, you laid your hand over his on your knee, giving it a slight squeeze to convey your own point. The crimefighter listened to your voice, your heartbeat, the quickness of your breath, finding no deceit and even if he didn’t believe you words, it was nice to hear them. Your kindness washed over him, letting him relax for just a second before he shook his head, laughing sarcastically to deflect the dangerously sappy emotions you stirred. You called him honey like it was his name, and part of him wondered that if you knew his name if you would still call him honey. 
“You barely know me, sweetheart.” 
His own nickname slipped out by accident, usually just something he called you in his head when he allowed fantasies about telling you everything, coming home to you as the vigilante and the lawyer, seeing just how far your good grace could take him. His lips quirked up in time with the uptick of your pulse and the way your breath caught for a moment. 
“I know enough to know you deserve some good.” You whispered earnestly, reaching up to graze the Star Wars bandaid you’d stuck across his the cut on his cheekbone. Almost instinctively, he leaned into the touch. You smiled softly, maybe you’d both missed each other a bit. The combined concern for the other and the time between his last visit making you both a little sappy, or at least more honest about it, So, you breathed a laugh, making another lame joke just to earn one of those chuckles you loved so much, “Besides, I know you well enough to have your blood on my hands.” 
But he didn’t laugh, instead, he pulled his face from your palm, his own bandaged hands taking your bloodied gloved hands in his own. Gently, he pressed your hands together, your loose fists creating almost heart like shape as he pressed reverent kisses to each bloody hand. The vigilante was kind always, flirty and joking, occasionally flirtations bordering on something else. But this? This was different, it was new. Intimate. You’d almost feel like a voyeur for watching the scene if it you weren’t playing a starring role. Your mind flashed to those romance novels you’d thought of earlier, this put all of them to shame. So much so that your hands started trembling against his lips. 
He held them tighter, but not in a constrictive, cage like way. More in a ‘let me hold you together’ kind of way before gently peeling the dirty gloves off and, again, kissing your clean hands underneath. His face angled to yours, nothing but sincerity lacing his features. 
"You know my blood better than my own heart does.” 
“God…” You whispered, letting your head fall against his shoulder, your nose nudging his collarbone and your eye lashes fluttering against his neck. His stubbled cheek fell to the crown of your head.  You cleared your throat again, "I know your blood, but not your name. For someone I care so much about, that’s kind of sad.” 
It was the first time you’d ever admitted it out loud in such certain words. The vigilante ran gentle hands up and down your arms, silent as a million thoughts went through his head. You heart was racing, not from lying, but in anticipation. Despite your racing pulse, you seemed almost totally at ease with you skin against his, one of your hands pressed to a bandage on his ribs and the other holding purchase at the waistline of his black pants. Nothing sexual, just the perfect place for your soft hand to land.   
Despite the million thoughts, he really had two options. Keep his secret, and keep you at an arms length, to keep things sweet and simple and not too deep. Or. Let you in a little deeper, he'd swim oceans to keep you afloat. Enjoy your sweetness, even if things were complicated. He kept still, holding you as gently as you had touched him, a promise to himself that he could be gentle and soft, just as he could be lethal and ruthless.  Two sides of a balanced scale.  
Your heart had slowed down again, the soothing motion of his hands on your arm lulling you. You had been worried about his response. You’re confession had gotten too real, you were worried he’d jump out the window and disappear again. And you’d be left with nothing but bloody gloves and the thought that maybe you’d just imagined the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 
"Matt.” His voice was quiet, just barely above a whisper, “You can call me Matt. Just don’t stop calling me."
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|| Good Girls Finish First ||
Matt Murdock x female reader
Warnings: The Hard Fucking. All the pet names. Praise. Minor denial, minor cum eating. All the good stuff.
Author's note: a follow up to the Kinktober Praise Kink fic that you guys seemed to really like 🥹
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Thud-thud-thud-thud.
You don't know what's louder, the banging of the bed frame against the wall or the hard beating of your heart in your chest. The secondary thrum of hot blood pulsing between your thighs almost feels like it could drown them both out.
"Mmn… M-Matt!"
Your hands are bound tightly to the bed with his work tie, it feels like you've been here for hours. Yet you can't stop him, wouldn't want to, even with your safeword agreed beforehand. You're willingly prone for him, on your knees, your fingers white knuckled, gripping around the railing as much as you can to push back against him as his cock plunges in and out of you so fucking deep. There's so much sound, so many points of stimulation chasing and manipulating you both towards the peak of pleasure. The hot skin of his pelvis and thighs smack so loud against your ass every time he thrusts inside, and the creak and slam of the bed provide the baseline to your personal symphony of sinful, desperate noises.
Matt's ears burn with the sheer carnality of it all. You'd been quiet, shy, and restrained with him up until now, when he'd coaxed your desires out from so deep within you with simple, truthful words of praise.
Oh, and his fingers.
You opened up for him in ways he had only dreamed of, those kinds of dreams that left him panting, hard and wet, aching for you to admit what you wanted, to let go. He'd willfully been so patient as you became more comfortable with him each time you were together, content to let you lead, just until he saw that you needed that little push… a couple of words that flipped a hidden switch in you.
"Oh- oh fuck… harder Matt! Fuck me harder, please!"
He can't help the grin that splits his lips as he gives you what you want, slamming into your sweet warmth with relentless devotion. Even more of your slick wetness coats his cock and drips down his balls as his hand roams over your body, cupping and massaging each of your breasts, making your breathy little gasps clip off as he toys with them, his rough fingertips grazing over your nipples.
"Does that feel good? You like it like this?" He growls deep right by your ear, lips brushing the spot just underneath that you love, sending electric shivers cascading up and down your spine.
He knows the answer even before your almost guttural moan hits his ears in response.
"Oh you're taking me so well," he breathes, struggling to contain the urge to release more of the wildness that's clawing to get out. Your pussy flutters maddeningly around his cock at the praise and he has to slow down. "Fuck sweetheart, so fucking good for me aren't you?"
His questions may well be rhetorical but you answer every one breathlessly, your back arching and thighs shaking at the delicious pull and push of your devil's wicked need within you. You'll never know how but he makes you feel all of life's contrasts. Goodness, depravity, trust, desecration, worship. Every one of them is a simultaneous offering and imposed need.
As the thought floats through your mind a loud whimper escapes you that causes Matt to halt. He caresses you tenderly, his lips a soft brush on your shoulder as he drapes himself gently over you. He might enjoy fucking you hard but he'd never want to cause you discomfort.
"Tell me what's wrong, do you want to stop?"
"I- I want to see you, need to see you…"
"Of course sweetheart." He kisses a trail down your back as he gently pulls out, his hands immediately reaching for the tie. Once your wrists are unbound, you gingerly turn to face him, body slightly stiff but leaning into the way his hands and mouth work to soothe you. You tilt your head to his and when your tongue slips between his parted lips you feel him moan, your fingers coming up to slide through his hair and push him by his chest, guiding him to take your place. He goes where you want him, ecstatic that you're asking for what you need.
You sit straddling his thick thighs, content for a moment watching the curl of his fingers slowly work up and down the length of his cock. He licks his lips, biting down on the lower one as he knows you're watching, sensing your own hand sliding between your legs.
"Mmn, is that better angel?," he almost purrs as he can hear the movement of your wet fingertips teasing your already swollen clit. You rock your hips a little against your hand, watching his grip tighten and strokes get faster, the fact he's lubricated by your slick just turns you on even more.
"Look so good, Matty, so pretty…" you whisper, inching yourself closer until the head of his cock is bumping against your folds. He holds himself back, eager to follow where you lead.
"Such a pretty cock…"
Matt chuckles, a faint blush creeping up his neck and he lets out a contented gasp as you reach for him, letting his own hand fall away as you take over, stroking him steadily and not missing the drip of precome that leaks from the tip. As you pull your hand up you smear it around with your thumb making it glisten and shine.
"Fuck…" he murmurs, eyes closing at the sensation.
"Matty, does it feel good?" You ask him, turning the tables on the game of praise he's been playing with you. He hums, and you can feel his cock throb in your hold as he gives over to your command. You keep jacking him off slowly. "Bet it felt good when you were inside me, didn't it baby?" you tease, rubbing him over your clit again and he groans, nodding as his brows knit together.
"Oh sweetie, nothing feels better…" he says.
You nudge forward so you're directly over him, lining him up with your needy pussy. His hands grab onto your hips and his mouth drops open as you sink down with a long sigh and he's filling you again. You clench around him making him gasp and dig his fingers into your soft flesh as you lean down, your voice a light whisper.
"Fuck me like this Matt, make me cum on your pretty cock." you tell him, your hand sliding back into his disheveled hair and tugging his head back as you begin to slowly grind your hips against his, your tongue licking a stripe up his throat. He gasps, swearing again, lips pulling up into a smirk as you ride him.
"Yeah, that's my girl," he pants out, his hips thrusting upward to meet yours, noting how you lose rhythm as he says it. "Mm, so beautiful, so fucking sexy. You know how it makes me feel when you tell me what you want."
You tug on his hair again releasing a feral growl from deep in his chest, fucking up into you harder with every stroke. You guide his hands over your breasts, whining as he kneads them, feels them bounce as you fuck yourself on him.
"Please, please Matty, I want to cum so bad-" you keen.
"I know…" he moves you gently, placing a hand at your lower back to urge you closer and tilt your pelvis forward so you could get more stimulation against his body.
He licks his first two fingers, sliding them between you to gently rub little circles on your clit. "There you go angel."
It feels fucking amazing and you moan loudly, riding him faster.
"Nngh- that's it honey, just like that." Matt groans, "Take what you need."
The pleasure you're feeling is sublime as he fucks you, his fingers touching you exactly the way you need him to. It's an all-consuming, glowing heat at the base of your spine and he just keeps throwing on more fuel.
"Fuck, you're so good for me…"
You're practically wailing now, eyes glimmering with unshed tears that he can taste in the air. He knows when you're close, he always knows, so tightly wound that when he reduces the pressure of his fingers, only tracing delicately around your clit but not touching directly, you whine with an agonising need.
"Maaaatt!" You sob, your fingers grasping at his chest and hands, begging him for the orgasm that is held just out of your reach. He smiles with a smug satisfaction that you almost want to slap off his face but you can't, not when he's holding the key.
"Use your words sweetheart, I promise I'm gonna make you feel so good, just use your words for me."
You can only whimper in response, completely cock drunk as he changes the angle of his hips and starts hammering right into the spot in you that makes you howl and cry out. He's got you where he wants you, right on the precipice. He was playing with you, seeing how far he could take it, and you were about to explode.
Just one… last… little…
Push.
"Only good girls get to finish first, are you my good girl? Hmm?"
You moan, your entire body shuddering and shaking with how worked up he has you, knowing your weakness, how to make you melt.
"Y-yes Matty, yes…" you choke out, "I'm y-your good fucking girl!"
"You are. Now cum for me, kitten," he growls, feeling your pussy squeeze around him at his darkened tone. "let me hear you scream for me."
You were gone, sobbing with pleasure and relief rippling through your body as his thumb glides over where you need it most, breaking apart, screaming his name out as you cum, just like he asked.
Matt's hands hold firm to your hips, rutting into you, your soft, tight, velvety walls clenching around him have him giving up any sliver of remaining control he might have had left.
"You're mine, mine…"
"yours..." you affirm, lucid enough to watch wide-eyed at how the muscles in his jaw clench and relax, his lips parting to release his strained gasps, the deep heave of his chest, the way his abs twitch and contract with every uncontrollable spasm as he spills deep into you, his hips rolling and stuttering while he cums and doesn't stop fucking you until you tell him to.
You lie breathless on top of him, cheeks damp with tears, quiet murmurs from your lips as he places the most gentle kisses on your shoulder and neck. When he softens you shakily dismount, now highly aware of the mix of both your mess leaking from between your thighs. You sit up and he reaches there, gathering some on his fingers and bringing them up to your mouth.
You suck them clean without question, tasting you together on your tongue. He swiftly rolls you underneath him, giving you a gorgeous smile before dipping down and kissing you deeply.
Good girl.
.
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Sundays (Matt Murdock x reader)
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warnings: tooth rotting fluff, religion (they go to church) very very fluffy, husband Matt, this one the poll but new one shot out soon
It was your favorite type of day. A Sunday, because no daredeviling on Sundays. Unless there was something especially serious he heard going on. You shift your weight so that you can shuffle in between his legs looking at your husband. He looks so majestic laying there naked with only a sheet covering his lower half. You weren’t quite modest yourself with only a sheet covering your body as well. Since you both had been just married less than 3 weeks, you were still in the phase where you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. It wasn't always intimacy times. But Matthew would always be there touching you in some comforting way reminding you he was always by your side. Weither it was a hand on your knee or holding hands with him as you were his “sighted guide”. When really he just used that as an excuse to show you off in public. His hand never left yours. Today was one of those days.
he looked like a sleeping angel not daredevil. His chest was cut from marble and an expression of peice was on his face you barely see. Shifting yourself in between his legs closer, bare chests pressing up against each other separated by only a silk sheet. A reminder of the gift he gave you last night. You lean in to him and give a long lingering kiss. It was soft upon his plump rosy lips and his eyes fluttered open. His sightless eyes gaze upon yours and you break the sweet kiss.
“Hello Mrs. Murdock” he says in his sleepy deep morning voice that makes your knees weak.
Hes never missed an opportunity to call you that in the last 3 weeks. You give him another sweet kiss and he hums. His hands stroking your hair. You slip between the silk sheets so that your warm bodies could press up against each other, though there is nothing sexual about it this time you weren’t in the mood you were just affectionate and he could tell. That smile hadn’t left his face since the two of you were married.
“hello my pretty little devil” you scratch underneath his chin and he leans into it making a small noise of pleasure at the gesture.
“hmm. It’s Sunday would like to come to church with me.” He asks still in a happy bliss “I’d rather not go alone”
you think for a bit,. Matthew’s been going through a rough time lately a really hard time. And god, if there wasn’t anything you’d do to please this man. You never want him to have to be alone again. You knew how much his religion meant to him. And church with Matthew is actually quite enjoyable the times you’ve been with him.
“of course I’ll go with you my love.” You whispered softly to him. He beams at you in return. That smile that hasn’t left since they had the small wedding. ”you should probably get dressed though. Would be a bit distracting.” he teases in a low chuckle
you crinkle up your nose and tease him back “so should you ‘good-catholic lawyer-boy’”
you rumple his hair before rising from his warm embrace to go to your closet. You find something nice to wear and Matthew goes for his normal suit. As he gets dressed you do admit ok yes you starred at his ass the whole time.
he gives a knowing devilish smirk you know all to well as he buttons up his shirt. You silently mourn the loss of staring at his abs “you know I may be blind sweetheart but i can sense you starring” he says with his signature charm.
“well we’re married now, I’m allowed to look at my husband aren’t I?” You say before light giving his ass a smack. You just couldn’t help yourself.
once the two of you are dressed he looks incredibly handsome even with more clothes on, he starts tapping his cane and each way as you two walk on the sidewalk together. Your hand however finds his and intertwines your other hand resting on his shoulder so you can guide him. Knowing that he trusts you even if it’s partly to keep his cover. He stops, smiles at you practically beaming and folds up his cane. The two of you resume your walk to Clinton church. The weather was incredibly nice, the flowers on the windowsills were blooming and the sun was beaming down. A pleasant breeze made the day just the right temperatures. you know even you could smell the sweetness of spring in the air and you didn’t have enhanced senses. You wonder what it’s like for Matt.
You break the comfortable silence as the two of you walk together. “you smell that? It’s my favorite flower”
“I don’t smell lavender y/n”
“oh you remembered, well yes that is my first favorite flower because of the scent but my second favorite is honeysuckle” you explained as the two of you stroll basking in each other’s company.
“Oh, I love that scent too. But sweetheart it’s an invasive plant.” He chuckles good naturedly. The scent of honeysuckle fills his lungs on this Sunday morning. If Amber thought she could smell the sweetness it was nothing compared to his. The way it weaves around his mind fogging it up with pleasant memories of when y/n would wear her citrus and honeysuckle perfume. It truly is a beautiful day. Nothing seems to be going wrong at the moment there isn’t a crime he hears. Or maybe it’s just in the warmth of y/n’s company the terrible sounds and shrieks of the city were muted. He always seemed calmer in her presence.
“We’re here, Clinton church” you read for him
“and on time” he kissed your joined hands before you both step into the church together. The darkness takes a bit for you to adjust to the light in contrast to the brightness of outside. Not that Matthew would mind, you giggle in your head. It truly is a beautiful place with high ceilings and candles lit, it has stained glass windows with beautifully colored pictures made of glass upon it. Y/n especially appreciated these. The way the sunlight of spring catches the stained glass sending a glow to floor adjacent to it. The difference in materials used creates complex shimmering patterns and shapes. Admiring the way each shard and fragment of glass comes together to make a beautiful story from the Bible. The wooden floors are pretty and there are rows of wooden pews with bibles in the pockets of the seat in front of you. It smells of that distinct church scent that is quite hard to discribe. The best Matthew can do is old wooden oak polished, with the scent of old books the type that are yellowing with age. He suspects these are from the Bible’s. The people played a role into it two he could often sense their perfume or their recent showers. There's also the scent of candles and incense. The incense is one of three smells that is most distinctive out of the melting pot to Matt. There’s a lingering air of smoke from previous services but it’s never too heavy. It’s not like cigarettes smoke at all, one of Matthew’s least favorite scents in the world. Well that was until he had been in an explosion as daredevil. Burning flesh was definitely the worst thing he’s ever sensed. He had to take many showers to get the smell out of his system. But overall he liked the scent and it was familiar to him. He was raised here. Even if he’s strayed so far, or hated his past now. But the scent of Clinton church was strangely calming and comforting to Matthew. You guide him to a pew bench that’s completely empty. You take your seat next to Matt once he’s settled his hand in his lap the other toying with his cane. You notice pleasantly that your seated directly next to a stain glass window. This one depicts baby Moses floating in the river. You particularly like the way the light shines through the glass making it translucent. The water a blue haze.
you find your seat and you take matts hand that’s in his lap, interlocking both your fingers. He brings the your hands up to his lips and gives a long kiss on your hand before resting it in his lap. The service starts shortly after and it only takes an hour, which is good because you can’t sit still for much longer than that. Matthew listens to what the priest says and you can’t but help admire how he looks. Sitting on the bench with his back leaning slightly back and his head up high. Those shoulders that carry the whole weight of this city on them . Intently listening, he leans his head just slightly back, his stunning red glasses perched upon his face. He looks proud almost. How could someone who looks so good be going through so much. Truth be told you were always worried about Matt. Being daredevil takes a tole on his soul. But you’ve been keeping an eye on him making sure he’s okay recently. He holds your hand the entire time. Only breaking when you have to pray but quickly rejoining his hand with yours. His thumbs stroking your hand comfortably.
“should I read to you what we’re saying?” You say wondering how he does this.
“uh no” he chuckles “i can hear them sweetheart”
“oh right” you answer sheepishly. Sometimes you’re still figuring out the extent of his blindness. He rubs your hand more finding the way you want to help endearing. You distinctly feel the cool of his ring on his hand. And you beam with pride. Before you know it the service is over and Matt stands up with you and unfolds his cane and starts tapping it. You wrap your arms around his as you “guide” him. But also in his own way it’s just another way to show you off. Matthew exchanged a few words with father lantom and some of the others before the two of you walked out into the bright spring day. There was not a cloud in the sky. After walking for a while hand and hand. Your golden beautiful rings shining in the sun. Your diamond perfectly sparkling. The consistent tap of Matt’s cane across everything. The silence is comforting and after a while he turns to you.
“thanks you” he says quietly.
your turn to him “for what?”
“for that, staying beside me. You……you don’t know how much it means to someone like me.” He adds sincerely.
you do know how much it means to him. Not many people have stayed with him, loving him unconditionally like you do. And he needs that, Matt needs her love. Her holds your chin delicately and pulls you in for a soft kiss. You sigh into the kiss. A very love sick sigh
once he breaks the kiss he’s smiling again with his beautiful smile. He brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face. “So..” his face still close to you. Red glasses practically glowing in the sun “how’s married life treating you Mrs. Murdock?”
you stroke his hair before speaking also a smile plastered on your face. “I think it suits me very well Mr. Murdock.” And he kissed your hand before continuing tapping his cane and walking on the sidewalk with you.
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sageispunk · 6 months
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Just One More (18+)
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Kinktober prompt: phone sex (day 6)
pairing: Matt Murdock x f!reader
summary: Matthew is out of town but you still need him.
“Keep going sweetheart, don’t stop, you’ve got it.” He ushered you along, almost desperate to hear you break for him. “God, that pussy sounds so good, so fucking wet for me.”
wordcount: 700+
warnings: pre-established relationship, phone sex, masturbation (v), lots of praise kink, fingering (few fingers at once), a tiny bit of teasing, some nipple play, mention of overstimulation, use of the words "baby" and "sweetheart"
A/N: follow my sideblog @sageispunklibrary and turn on notifs to be updated when i post!! 🩷
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“Let me hear you, baby…”
You whined into your phone, wishing that he could just be here. “Matt…”
“I know, sweetheart, I know. You’re doing so good for me,” He cooed in your ear, reveling in the breathlessness in your voice. You could hear him shuffling around in bed, the audio going muffled for just a moment.
“Matty, I need you,” You cried out, your arms beginning to tire out. You were holding your phone up to your face with your left hand, whilst your right hand was two fingers deep inside your pussy. It felt good, but you needed more. You wanted Matt there with you, but he couldn’t be. Away in another city, off on some mission that you wish he would blow off, just for you.
“Two fingers not enough?” He chuckled into the phone, already knowing your answer. You whined out an mm-mm, and let out a pouty sigh. “Another one then, c’mon baby.” You complied, sliding your index finger in to meet the middle and ring fingers already covered in your slick.
“Oh, fuckkk..” You moaned, feeling a whole different type of full. Slowly at first, you began to pump your fingers, in and out. The more wetness leaked out, the quicker your pace began.
“I wanna hear it baby, c’mon, you can get a little louder.”
Tired of holding the phone up, you turned it on speaker mode, setting it down next to your hips. You wanted him to hear the noises coming out of your mouth as well as the lewd squelching coming from your cunt. And he noticed.
You sat up a little on your pillows, the new angle making it easier for you to reach new depths inside yourself. Curling the tips of your fingers, you found your spot. That same spot that Matthew hit within seconds of being inside you, fingers and cock. “Matt, oh, fuck, Matty baby…” Your free hand landed on your breasts, playing with your nipples, twisting and pinching lightly, sending goosebumps down your body.
“Keep going sweetheart, don’t stop, you’ve got it.” He ushered you along, almost desperate to hear you break for him. “God, that pussy sounds so good, so fucking wet for me.”
His words made you even wetter, juices dampening your sheets as your pace remained strong. “I’m so close, Matty, please..” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but it didn’t stop you. Your moans got louder and louder, you knew you’d likely have to sneak around to not face your neighbors after this, but you didn’t give a shit in the moment.
“Rub that clit for me, I know you want it.” And he was right. Your hand left your chest and went straight down to your clit. The moan that escaped your throat as you made contact with the swollen bud was downright pornographic. Immediately rubbing in perfect circles, your body began to tremble.
“Matt..” You cried his name out repeatedly, in drawn out breaths every few moments. Your eyes were clamped shut and all you could hear was the wetness of your nearly overstimulated pussy and the low breathy groans coming from your phone. “So close, so close, so close,”
“Let go for me, baby. Let it out, let it allll out, c’mon.” His voice was deeper now, more dominating than you’d heard from him in awhile. It made your brain fuzzy. You heard his words echo in your head, over and over until that band within your stomach finally snapped.
“I’m cumming, I’m cumming, Matt I’m cumminggg…” Your cries were loud, and he couldn’t have been more proud. He urged you on through the speakers, guiding you along your peak as your back arched up off the bed.
Your arms stilled, and your thighs trembled, sheets likely completely soaked by now. “Ohhh..” You slid your fingers out of you, feeling the overstimulation creep up. A dazed smile grew on your face as you realized what just happened. Phone sex with Matthew for the first time. And it was perfect.
“You did so good, baby, so fucking good.” Your heart fluttered at the praise, a hand blindly reaching down for your phone to bring back up.
“Thank you, Matty. I needed this so bad.”
“I know, sweetheart. And I promise, when I get back, it’s gonna be even better.” Your smile widened.
“Stay on with me until I fall asleep?” Your voice was so soft and gentle, he’d do anything you asked of him.
“Of course.”
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A/N: just a lil something short and sweet on this friday night. it was kinda fun writing this, i had to rewatch a couple of episodes of DD to get a bit of his character in my head lol. i hope you guys enjoyed this, feel free to like, reblog and comment!! also send any requests or suggestions you have <3333
i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.
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MATT MURDOCK MASTERLIST.
<- back to navi
last updated: mar, 12 2024
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key:
☾ -> fluff/ comfort
★ -> smut
✧ -> angst
blank -> miscellaneous
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imagines/headcanons ☾
seeing stars - you and matt share a tender night after his nightly patrols ★
right here - matt comforts you during a depressive episode ☾
don’t close close your eyes - elektra comes back to town with one goal in mind: to get matt back. she’d do anything to get him back, even harming his girlfriend (from a request/ prompt) part 1/2 ✧
through your eyes - matt is struggling to come to terms with the death of his girlfriend. part 2/2 ✧
extra credit - you’re a struggling law student at columbia and seek out help from your temporary professor, matt murdock★
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requests:
ruin you ★
encounters ★
switch up ★
growing by one ☾
rooftop apologies ☾/✧?
girls night with matt ☾
lunch [no] date ✧
about time ☾
lunch [no] date part 2 ☾
behave ★
days apart ★
pillows ★
work break ★
before breakfast snack ★
spillage ☾
valentine’s day ★
after patrol delight ★
sweet treats ☾/✧?
first time ★
black lycra ★
meeting matt’s friends ☾
roof-side to bed-side ★
four times a charm ★
past, present and future ☾
dessert delivery day ☾
that’s not my cologne
surprise at breakfast ☾
adoration ☾
you can take it ★
me or her ✧?
satin secret ★
bandages ☾
morning ‘kisses’ after josie’s ☾
shouldn’t have said that ✧
accidental break✧
peanut butter and pretzels ☾
mine ★
like that ★
accidental break part 2 ✧
klutz ☾
unintentional ☾/✧?
I spy ★
in tune ★
girls night out ☾
fort stories ☾
wasn’t about me ★
want to choose you ✧?
sandalwood ☾
birthday boy ☾
nsfw alphabet// hc’s ★
reward ★
parking bay play ★
red tinted ☾
through the wall ★/ suggestive
“answer it” ★
headspace ★/✧?
I know you can ★
worth the wait ☾
in good time ☾/✧?
(un)lucky number seven -> suggestive
friday’s ★
fall girl ☾
matt fixing you up ☾
sabotage ✧?
apartment hunting hc’s ☾
sub matt hc’s ★
12 days of christmas ★
leap ☾
gentle loving ★
nosey ☾
distance
heartbeats ☾
daredevil vs matt murdock ★ coming soon
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© little-miss-dilf-lover // all work is my own. please do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
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brokebonewritings · 10 months
Text
Thirsting
Matt Murdock x Reader
Tags/ Warnings: 18+, Smut, Fluff
Summary: After dating for six months, you and Matt spend a long romantic evening together. Song: Move by Taemin
Word Count: 3.5K
Navigation || Series Masterlist
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“How about this one?” Karen says, holding a pastel yellow lace bralet.
Currently you and Karen were lingerie shopping after you had let slip how badly you wanted Matt to touch you.
“You know he’s not going to be able to see it right?” You say as you look through the stack in front of you.
“Right, but he can feel it.” She grins. 
Damn. She had a point, he could feel it. You watch as she continues to hold it up. It was cute, you thought. 
“Okay.” You say with a smile. She cheers and throws the set at you. 
This wasn’t something you had ever thought about doing. Sure you’ve been with others before but you felt that you had to make it special with Matt. He would disagree on the other hand.
“Helloooo?” Karen says with a grin. “What’s going on in that brain?”
“Oh nothing.” You blush. 
“You were thinking about tonight!” She squealed as she grabbed your arm. Your face gained a darker hue at the truth.
The both of you continue to look around before you both are satisfied. You bring your findings to the counter and pay before you second guess yourself. Karen took you to lunch after, gave you several pep talks before sending you on your way.
You had butterflies in the pit of your stomach. For a few reasons. One, You had no idea what Matt had been planning. Two, Matt has no idea what you have been planning. Three, You were going to have sex with your best friend turned lover. The list could go on forever.
Once you’re home, you do your usual routine. Clean the leftover dishes, finish some laundry, and take a shower. It’s only when you step out and wrap the towel around yourself you get nervous. Never had you bought lingerie to impress your partners. Just Matt.
You stare at yourself in the mirror, rotating around to get a full view. The pastel lingerie against your skin really did accentuate your features. Hopefully your advances would be noticed by Matt.
Putting on your dress, you finish getting ready and leave for his apartment. You both had planned to stay in and have dinner for the night. Maybe finally you would have the courage to tell him what you wanted.
Except it wasn’t a matter of want anymore. You needed him to touch you. Craving his fingers against your skin, his hand groping every ounce of your body.
It was busy on the streets for Thursday night. You walked in dead silence, thinking about all the things that would happen. 
Matt was probably setting up for the date. He was telling you earlier that he had a surprise in store. You could only imagine what it could be.
Finally reaching his building, you take the elevator up to his floor. Slowly the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open. You jump as you realize he was standing outside of the lift.
Flowers were the first things you saw. The most beautiful daisies and tulips. As they lowered, you caught a glimpse of Matt’s smile. He looked incredibly handsome as always.
“Hi, baby.” He greets. You smile wide as you step out of the lift.
“Hey, Matty.” You reply. “Were you waiting for me?”
“Of course, I heard you come into the building.”
“Makes sense.” You step closer to him. “Are those for me?”
“Yeah.” He sighs.
You blush from how breathy his last response was. Did you truly take his breath away? It was a good sign after all. He holds out his arm, and you take it. Leading you back to his apartment, you notice the small candles lit on the floor as you enter.
After hanging your coat, you both walk further inside. You see his couch and coffee table have been pushed back and in place is a blanket with pillows. Just like a small picnic, it’s set up for dinner complete with roses and wine.
“Matty…” You say in awe. He did all of this for you? It truly made your eyes water. It was so sexy of him to do all of this. Plan the date, and decorate in this way.
“I love you, sweetheart.” He starts as he turns towards you. “I know it’s a sappy thing, but it’s been six months.” 
It was sappy, but you liked it. You wrap your arms around his neck and bring him in for a tight hug.
“I love it.” You say as you pull back. “And I love you too.”
He smiles and takes your hand. Leading you to the blanket, he helps you sit down and tells you to wait. You nod and watch as he walks to the kitchen. 
Once he disappears, you take a deep breath. The nerves were starting to get to you. He set up beautifully though. Rose petals scattered about, light incense filled the air. It was everything you could imagine and more.
Just as fast as he left, he came back carrying two plates. When he set yours before you all you could do was gape. He had made a beautiful looking chicken parm.
“Mr. Murdock, am I to assume you made this all yourself?”
He chuckles at your comment. Sitting down in front of you he situates himself before responding.
“Every little crumb, my dear.”
You giggle in return. Of course he had. Somedays you had to remind yourself that he really was capable of doing a lot. 
Dinner with Matt was incredible. He made the most delicious food, and he always kept the conversation interesting. Once you were both finished with dinner, he brought the plates back into the kitchen and settled back in front of you.
“I’ve been thinking about something.” You confess, and he tilts his head. “I think I’m ready.”
His eyebrows raise behind his glasses. Biting your lip, you wonder if now was the right time to do something like this.
“You’re sure?” He asks
“Yeah.” You say as you stand. “I actually have a surprise for you.”
Your face flushes a deep pink as your dress drops to the floor. Approaching him on the blanket, you stand awkwardly above him. He takes your hand into his own, and tugs so that you kneel in front of him. Your heart racing with anxiety.
“Oh, sweetheart.” He grins. “You don’t have to be nervous.”
His hand slides up your arm and stops once he feels the strap of your bralet. He hesitates before tilting his head. The look of confusion on his face.
“What are you wearing?”
“Lingerie.” You reply, feeling a little embarrassed. “I told Karen you wouldn’t be able to see it.”
“Karen helped you?”
Your bottom lip slips between your teeth. It wasn’t like you to be this nervous before sex. Your heart still pounded against your chest.
“She helped me pick it out, yeah.”
He lets out a sighed chuckle. “Then, sweetheart, describe what it looks like.”
“Why don’t you feel for yourself.” You say as you take his hand.
Gently, you move it just beneath your rib cage. His hand slides up to cup your breast lightly. You could tell that with each touch he was assessing the fabric.
“Lace. With a flower pattern.” He starts. “It’s a soft lace. Satin right underneath it.”
You nod your head to confirm. “Yeah, that’s right.”
He smiles at his little success. Though you know he didn’t need to take the victory. Matt squeezes your chest, and you let out a soft gasp.
“What color is it?” He asks, taking in a deep breath.
“Yellow. Pastel Yellow.”
“Perfect.” He squeezes a little harder. “Such a good girl, all dressed up for me.”
You groan out as he grins at you. The bastard knew what he was doing. Trying to get you to come undone in front of him. Looking down, you stare as his hands rub against your ribs. Maybe it was the wine but all you could think about was the way his hand would look wrapped around your neck. 
He must have heard your thoughts, because one of his hands reaches up and grabs your jaw. Pulling you in for a bruising kiss. 
His grip was strong but you wanted this. You wanted him to be rough. He was always so gentle with you. Treating you like glass in some instances. It never went further than making out on the couch. You needed this.
The kiss was intensified as he slid his tongue against your bottom lip. You open your mouth to grant him access. His thumb which was pressed against your chin moves to the corner of your mouth. As he pulls away from the kiss, he replaces his tongue with his thumb. 
Moaning loudly, he removes his thumb and inserts two of his fingers. You gag against them as he pushes them farther into your mouth.
“Breath, sweetheart.” He sighs. “Stick out your tongue.”
Obeying, you stick your tongue out allowing him to shove his fingers down your throat. He moans at the sensation of your whines. When he is satisfied, he removes them and grins at you deviously.
“What was the point of that?” You coughed out.
“So I could do this.”
He reaches down, moves your panties to the side and inserts his fingers into your cunt. You gasp loudly, hands flying to grip his shoulders. Every shock of his movements coursed through your body. 
Never before had a man taken care of you like this. Your body shudders as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.
You can feel the heat growing in your stomach as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. His thumb adds to the mix as he begins to circle your clit. 
Your moans and pants are a sure sign of your approaching orgasm. Just as you hit your climax, he removes his fingers. He moans as he listens to your racing heart.
Watching as he slips the fingers into his mouth and moans once more. His tongue swirling around his digit, tasting every bit of your slick. 
Your cheeks flush as he removes his glasses and sets them aside. His eyes fix onto you and you shiver in anticipation. It was something out of a book. The darkness of his eyes have you mesmerized.
“You taste so good, baby.” He says above a whisper. His other hand rests on your hip as he slips his fingers under the band of your panties. “Why don’t we take these off.”
You nod and help him remove the piece of fabric. Before you can rest on your knees again, he pushes you lightly onto your back.
Looking up at him, you watch as he begins to remove his shirt. The lights from outside illuminate his face just enough for you to see him lick his lips. 
He crawls over to you once he’s finished and pushes your legs open. The heat on your face burns as he looks up towards you. He smiles before licking his lips once more.
“I think I’ve earned dessert. What do you say, sweetheart?” He grins and you moan in response.
Wasting no time, he kisses his way up your thighs hovering just above your pussy. He takes a deep, before swiping his tongue against your length. The sensation is warm and shocking.
You could feel the way his tongue devours every inch of your core. Tongue slipping in and out of you, the obscene noises were all you heard.
Matt took his time. He needed to feel every jerk of your hip, needed to smell your arousal in full. Like he craved it more than anything in the world. Your loud breathy moans were like a symphony that only he could write. 
“Matt, oh God, I’m close.” You whined out, causing him to growl against you.
Each swipe of his tongue brought you close to the edge. Until finally he flicks your clit a certain way. You scream as you begin to orgasm. 
The sensation was maddening, you didn’t know if it was possible to continue after that. However, your boyfriend knew you absolutely could.
“Good girl.” He says, coming up to kiss you. “Such a good girl.”
You smile underneath his kiss. The praises alone started to another fire inside you.
“Please Matty, I need you.” 
“I know, baby. Help me with my pants.” 
Shakily, you climb to your knees and tug on his belt loop. You pull him close to you and pepper kisses on his jawline.
“I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Matthew Murdock, but I’m addicted to you.”
You unbutton his pants and help him out of them. His cock strained against his briefs. Sucking on your teeth, you grab the waistband and tug them down. 
The groan surfacing from the back of his throat was a sign of relief. His cock springing free from the compounds of his briefs. Now it was your turn to let out a long moan.
“I was gonna be rough with you,” He starts. “But no, no. You need to be loved, and I will make sure you feel just that.”
He grabbed onto his cock and gave a few slow pumps. You had already settled back into the soft pillows below. 
Eyeing him hungrily, you watched him shudder at the touch of his hand. What was he imagining at this moment?
It didn’t take long for his length to harden. It was painfully hard, and you could tell by the way he hissed at each stroke. Your heartbeat flutters as you watch the hair fall into his face. 
“Baby.” His gruff voice pulls you from your thoughts. 
“Hm?”
“Condoms.”
You process the word that left his mouth. Condoms? Fuck, condoms. Sitting up, you look around the space until you spot the small square package on the coffee table. 
Cheeky. Right out in the open. How did you not notice? Standing, you saunter over and grab the little packet. 
“Fire and Ice? That’s hot”
The chuckle you earn from him perks your ears. You walk back over to him, opening the packet and taking out the small rubber sleeve. 
“You know I just want to give you all the pleasure.”
“I get the feeling you asked the clerk for help on this.”
“Guilty as charged.”
You kneel in front of him, grabbing his hardened cock. He hisses and grips his thighs. Giving him a few pumps, you prep the condom and roll it onto his length. Once it's rolled on completely, you return to your position of laying back onto the pillows. 
Taking a deep breath, you wait as he crawls above you. Both of his elbows resting by your head. He leans down and kisses you with intense love. Something you have never felt before Matt. As he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. You both take a shaky breath before he speaks.
“Ready?”
“Always.”
As you gave him the consent he was waiting for, he lines himself against your entrance. He takes a shaky breath before pushing into you slowly. You both let out a long moan. 
If you had to be honest, it stung. It had been quite some time since you had sex, and you forgot about having to adjust. A few stray tears escape your eyes causing Matt to stop.
“Sweetheart, am I hurting you?” His voice was laced with concern.
You shake your head. “I just need to adjust. I’m okay. Promise.”
Bringing your legs a little higher, it relieved some of the burn. Kissing your face softly, he stops until you’re ready. You grab onto his shoulder and whisper a soft ‘okay’. He begins to push himself in just a little more. 
It’s tolerable, not stinging like before. When he finally bottoms out, you moan loudly. This causes goosebumps to spread over his skin. You made the most beautiful noises.
After a moment of letting you adjust, Matt pulls his hips back before slowly sliding back in. The grip you had on his shoulder begins to tight as he pumps himself into you. 
“Oh- Oh god, M-Matt.” You moan out, throwing your head back. His pace picks up and you can’t help but wonder how long he can last. He grabs onto one of your legs, putting it on his shoulder.
“Fuck- you’re so tight, sweetheart” Each pump was harder than the last and you could feel his hot breath in your ear. His hips slammed against yours, making a loud noise with each thrust.
Hooking your leg over his shoulder, you gripped onto his shoulders. His thrusts picked up and you couldn’t help but feel your walls tightening.
“M-Matt… I’m gonna come.” You say as you roll your hips against him, causing him to groan in pleasure. 
“Come for me. Please.” He begs. “Please, baby.”
His thrusts become more erratic before he stops and shuts his eyes. His cock pulsates as he struggles to hold his own release. You throw your head back as you ride out your orgasm. Matt goes still, letting out a deep groan. 
After feeling you tighten around him, he submits to his own orgasm. He pumps himself into you a few more times before pulling out completely. He falls onto his back beside you. You roll onto your side to face him.
“I love you.” He says, still breathing deeply.
“I love you too.” You say, leaning in to kiss him.
“You felt incredible.” He smiles. “Every moan was like a song.”
You feel the heat spread across your cheeks. You look away for a moment before meeting his gaze again.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," you say softly, your fingers tracing circles on his bare chest.
He reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the touch sending shivers down your spine.
"You're amazing," he says, his voice husky. "I can't believe how lucky I am to have you."
“You’ve had me since the moment we met.” You admit. “You couldn’t expect to get rid of me that fast, Murdock.”
He chuckles and you watch his eyes crinkle. It was the most beautiful thing about him. His smile. God, was he just beautiful in general. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours.
"I don't ever want to get rid of you. You're mine now."
Your heart flutters at his possessiveness, but you find yourself enjoying it. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer to you. He smells of sweat and sex, but there's something else there too, something uniquely Matt that you can't quite put your finger on.
As if reading your thoughts, he pulls away from you slightly, a curious expression on his face.
"What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?" he asks.
You bite your lip, unsure if you want to share your thoughts with him. But you trust him, more than anyone else you've ever been with.
"I was just thinking how...different this is from anything I've ever experienced before," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
“A good different, I hope.” He chuckles. 
You smile in return. “Of course it's good! You’re one of the best things that has ever happened to me.”
He smiles, his eyes softening with emotion. "You're one of the best things that's ever happened to me too," he says, his words weighted with sincerity.
You feel a warm glow spread through your chest at his words. It was moments like these that made you fall in love with him a little more every day. As you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, you feel a sense of contentment wash over you.
You scoot closer to him, feeling his warmth contrast with the chill of the room. It was moments like these where you wished to capture it in a still frame. You never thought you'd be lucky enough to find someone like him, someone who just gets you.
Matt sighs, before sitting up. You stare as he begins to roll the condom off and pick himself off the ground. He walks away for a moment before coming back with a washcloth.
“Matty?” You ask in confusion. 
“Yeah?”
“What are you doing?”
He walks over, and gives you a lazy smile. “Someone has to clean you up, sweetheart. I don’t think your legs are going to work that well.”
You giggle before allowing him to wipe you down. Not feeling embarrassed, instead you feel gratitude. Finally finding someone who took care of you in all aspects. After he finishes, he puts the cloth on the table and returns to you. Gathering you in his arms, he walks you to the bedroom. 
Of course he hadn’t expected the both of you to sleep on the floor. You were grateful for that as well. You were grateful for the whole evening. As you both laid in bed, you thought of everything that brought you to this moment. 
Even after everything he wanted you. He wanted all of you, and that’s all you could have asked for.
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angelltheninth · 10 months
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Matt Murdock as a Bad Priest
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, religion, church sex, praise, gaslighting, toxic relationship, power dynamics, dirty talk, heavy degredation, masturbating while being watched, blowjobs, rough sex, overstimulstion, clit stimulation, begging, dom!Matt, sub!Reader, priest!Matt
A/N: Never been to so many churches as I have in the past 10 days in Italy.
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Priest!Matt who makes it look like he has your best interest at heart but every time you come to his church and tell him of your dirty thoughts he fucks you harder and harder. At one point you moaned so loud it echoed around the church, your knuckles aching from how hard you were holding onto his shoulders.
"Here again so soon, you're quite a sinful whore. It was once a month, twice a month, every week, now you're here every other day, begging for forgiveness as loud as you beg for an orgasm. And I'm the only one willing to hear you out."
Priest!Matt who has you naked in the middle of the church, on your knees, hand interlocked in a prayer as you suck his cock. He's praying for you, for your sinful soul while he watches you swallow and choke on his cock and cum. Only after you made him go soft are you allowed to speak.
"Almost there doll, you're almost there okay? I'll make all your sins go away soon, make me come and we can pray together. Your filthy mouth, I'll make it worthy of talking to Him."
Priest!Matt who tells you to spill all your fantasies before God, on his altair, legs spread open and fingers working between your legs. He doesn't have his cock out but he can see how much you want it, how your eyes look at the twitching bulge and your fingers move faster when he pushes you to look up at Him instead.
"Do not look away from Him, he is the one who needs to see your sinful ways most of all. Confess to it, all your wants and lust, how you touch and play with your slutty cunt every night you don't have a cock in you. Tell him how you open your legs for me, how you seduce me, how you want to be my cocksleeve."
Priest!Matt who has you on your knees, him thrusting roughly into you from behind as you both look at Him. Only Matt has a smug grin on his face while you're a wheeping mess as his hand comes to press against your clit.
"Think He will forgive a whore like you? Maybe if you were here every day so you don't have time for your sins. I would help you darling, embrace you, love you, love this messy pussy that's made for cock and nothing else."
Priest!Matt who fills your pussyhole with hot loads of cum. Your fingers are already inside you the moment he pulls out, fucking the white, sticky fluid back into yourself. Matt can't help but laugh at the pathetic mess you are.
"Can't go without cum inside you, even here. Thst's alright. You have a lot more time before you meet Him. What do you say we walk hand in hand until then? I will do my best to grant you both pleasure and salvation."
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courtforshort15 · 2 years
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Choice and Chance and Promise
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem Reader
Word count: 7,300
Summary: You can't help the way you feel about one Matthew Murdock, though you've spent years wishing you could. It would probably have made things a little easier.
Trigger warnings: none. Slight angst (but not really) with a happy ending.
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"I don’t think this is working out for me anymore.”
The words echo in your head as you say them, getting louder and louder each time it finds a wall, ledge or corner to bounce off of. The man across the table stiffens, and there’s a sharp intake of breath that causes his nostrils to flare.
“What?” His tone is one of utter disbelief, and honestly, you can’t blame him. It had seemingly come out of nowhere, though lunch had been awkward as all hell, at least from your perspective. Apparently he hadn’t felt the same.
You wince, shifting your eyes away from him, hating to see the pain that’s beginning to bloom across his face. You hate this part. “I said–”
“I know what you said,” he snaps, the red tint in his cheeks deepening. You don’t take the tone to heart, knowing he’s only reacting the way he is because he’s hurt. “I’m just confused.” 
Taking a deep breath, you continue to steel yourself, feeling the way your spine has straightened as you force yourself to say what you need to say. It’s not that you don’t want to break up with him, it’s just that you’re awful at confrontation. “I just…don’t think this is working. I don’t know what else to say.”
“You could start by telling me why,” he says, and you watch as the pain slowly shifts into something that’s a little frustrated, a little angry. “I thought things were going well.”
“They were–”
“Then what’s going on?”
“--until they weren’t.”
His face hardens. “But why? I don’t get it.”
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your forefinger and your thumb, briefly closing your eyes. You look back up at him, noting the way his knuckles have turned white around the plastic cup of soda he’s holding. “I’m just not into it anymore, I guess? I don’t know.”
He gives you an incredulous look. “Not into it anymore?”
“Yeah. I don’t think this is right for me.”
“You don’t think I’m right for you, is what you’re saying.” The look on his face is accusatory, but what he’s said is 100% correct.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying,” your voice is quiet as you respond, shrugging your shoulders. You look at the wall over his shoulder, reluctant to look at his face directly and see the pain that’s radiating off of him.
The man barks out a sarcastic laugh, and the sound echoes throughout the quiet restaurant. A few other patrons look up in curiosity before continuing on with their lunch. “This is great. Fantastic.”
You grimace, fingers playing with the hair tie that's wrapped around your wrist. You’re a fidgeter, you can’t help it, and this is something that’s turning your stomach. You hate being the bad guy, even though it’s completely unintentional and you’re only trying to do what’s best for you. You’re allowed to be selfish in that regard, right? 
“I’m really sorry,” you mumble just loud enough for him to hear. The apology doesn’t help, but you don’t really expect it to.
“Did I do something? Say something wrong?”
“No, it’s not that,” you say as you shift in your seat awkwardly. 
“Then what?”
Groaning, you toss your head back to stare at the ceiling. Breakups suck, and it doesn’t matter what side of the equation you’re on. “It just doesn’t feel right. I don’t know how to describe it.”
He’s not satisfied with the answers you’re giving him, if the look he’s giving you is anything to go by. “You’re not making any sense at all. Can’t we just talk about this?”
“We are talking about this.”
The man gives a frustrated sigh as he runs his fingers through his hair. “No, you’re breaking up with me. That’s not talking about it. You’re telling me we’re done without giving me the chance to change your mind, or see what’s fixable.”
“There’s nothing wrong, and there’s nothing that needs fixing. You’re a great guy, I just–”
“Are you seriously giving me the “it’s not you, it’s me” line?”
You cringe, cheeks flushing. “That’s not…Look, I’m really sorry, but this isn’t what I want anymore. You didn't do anything wrong, so please don’t think any of this is on you. Some people just aren’t good matches, you know?”
“I can’t believe this,” he seethes. A waitress comes up to presumably ask a question, but you shake your head before she can say anything, trying to indicate it’s best she stays away. With a nod, she walks over to another table instead. You turn to look back at the man across from you, watching as he just about glares at you. 
“I’m sor–”
“Stop apologizing,” he bares his teeth as he hisses the words. “Just tell me why my girlfriend is up and leaving without a conversation about it.”
Your mouth drops in surprise. “Girlfriend?”
“Yes, girlfriend. We’ve been dating for three months, what else did you think you were?”
“Three months isn’t a lot of time,” you say weakly, faltering just slightly. “I guess I didn’t see myself as your…girlfriend.”
A brief look of hope crosses over his face suddenly and a bad feeling settles over you. “Is that…is that why you’re breaking up with me? Because you wanted to be serious and you thought I didn’t?”
Fucking hell. “No–”
“Because I promise you, I want to be serious. I’m serious about you.”
“That’s not–”
“I’m really sorry if you thought I didn’t want more, and if that made you feel like you needed to cut yourself off before you got too attached. I can totally understand that.”
You’ve reached your breaking point. “Enough. No. That’s not why. I didn’t think this was serious, and I don’t think I wanted it to be serious. I don’t want to be with you. Why can’t you just accept that?”
His face darkens again as his eyes narrow drastically. “You’re fucking someone else, aren’t you?”
You jerk back, surprised at the accusation. “What?”
“That’s it, right? You’re fucking someone else, and you don’t want me anymore.”
“That’s a hateful accusation,” you glare at him as your voice lowers. “We may not have been serious, but I wasn’t…sleeping around.”
“Right,” he scoffs. “Maybe you were or maybe you weren’t sleeping with someone else, who knows. Maybe you just have feelings for someone else.” The words are spat out at you as if having feelings for someone else is worse than fucking someone.
But this accusation coming from him is…not wrong.
Flashes of a man, a devastatingly beautiful man, flip through your mind, and it’s easy to allow the images flood your consciousness. His dark hair and the way it has a reddish tone when it catches the light just right. A wide smile, framed by dimples and laugh lines, full lips open to give you a dry comment or a quiet compliment. Calloused hands that still feel smooth wrapped around your elbow, broad shoulders that carry the weight of Hell’s Kitchen on them.
Him. It’s always been him. 
And it’s taken way too long to figure it out, way too long to give it a chance, way too long to admit how you feel.
The man across from you utterly sneers as he correctly reads the emotions flitting across your face. “That’s bullshit. You’re breaking up with me for someone else.”
You hang your head in an act of shame. You really do feel awful about this, even if he’s currently being an asshole. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to end this way. I can’t…help how I feel about him.”
His lips curl in something that’s bordering on loathing. “And if you could? Would you want to change how you feel about him?”
For the first time since you’d sat down with him to end things, you look him straight in the eyes, with absolutely no hesitation in your mind. “No. I wouldn’t.” 
A bitter laugh escapes him. “Right. Great. Guess I’ll be leaving then.” He stands up, his chair screeching across the tile of the restaurant floor. He angrily tosses a twenty down on the table to cover his meal.
You look up at him with wide eyes, still hating the way you’ve hurt him. He was a good guy, just…not the one for you. “It was…uh. It was nice knowing you, David. I hope you find what you’re–”
The man storms away and exits the restaurant door in a fit of fury before you even finish speaking. 
—---
Hours later, you’re standing outside his run-down green door, take-out in one hand and a pack of disgusting German beer in the other, anxiously shifting from foot to foot.
It’s ridiculous, you know it is. You told him you were coming over, so you know he’s home. And you also know he’s likely tracked your movement from two blocks away minimum and is fully aware you’re standing outside his door. 
Sure enough, before you can even knock, it’s being opened from the inside. Matt stands in his doorway in casual clothes, his favorite ratty t-shirt and gray sweatpants (yes, fucking gray sweatpants, holy hell), with a smile on his lips as he immediately beckons you inside.
“Hey,” he greets you as you cross the threshold into his apartment. He reaches out and wordlessly grabs the beer and take-out from you so that you can remove your jacket and scarf and place them on his coat rack. “You know, it’s usually customary to knock on one’s door when you’re ready to come inside.”
You smile at the simple way he teases you as the pair of you walk into his living room. Things have just always been easy, always been effortless between you two. “I think the key word is ready in this situation.”
“Oh?” He asks curiously while he immediately begins unpacking the food and placing it on his coffee table. He’s already set out plates and napkins to eat dinner with, and there’s a glass of water waiting for you, knowing you prefer it to the beer you’ve brought over for him. “What were you waiting on?”
Oh, just trying to figure out how not to fuck this up.
“Nothing, I was just thinking,” you say instead as you toe off your shoes and move to sit on the ground in front of the coffee table. Matt thinks it’s amusing when you sit on the ground instead of the couch to eat, but he’s always quick to join you anyway. It's therefore no surprise that once the food is properly laid out, he’s sitting across from you on the other side of the table, legs stretched out underneath.
His feet, like usual, are covered in fluffy socks that roll up over the bottom of his sweats, much to your ever-lasting amusement. It’s adorable, and the fact that he has no idea what it does to you is ridiculous.
God, this man.
“Thinking? What about?”
You. Always you.
“Things,” you shrug nonchalantly.
“Things,” he says dryly. He places a large serving of your favorite dish onto a plate before he hands it to you. You’ve known each other long enough, been friends long enough, that he knows what you’re going to eat before you even say anything, always correctly anticipating what you’re hungry for. You take it from him with a grateful smile.
“Yes, things.” 
He raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t say anything. It’s generally not like you to be vague, but he’s never been one to push. He knows you’ll tell him when or if you’re ready, because you always do. He’s the one person you tell everything to.
“Well, let me know if you need to talk about anything, okay?”
You smile, and the expression is genuinely open and happy. It’s an expression that is on your face more often than not when you’re around him.
Matt tilts his head towards yours, beautiful brown eyes that sometimes look hazel in the light aimed in your general direction, as if he can see the way you’re looking at him. Your heart is pounding in your ears, but in a way that you hope suggests excitement for your favorite take-out place rather than anxiety. He smiles softly, and you know he’s listening in.
You suppose people could find it intrusive, the way he’s able to know more about their bodies than they do. But to you, Matt’s only ever used his abilities to seek the truth and hold people accountable for their actions, regardless of the setting.
With a dorky grin still on your face, you find yourself digging into dinner, suddenly starving, realizing you hadn’t been able to eat much at today, both because David had taken you to a place he knew you hated for lunch, and because your stomach had been twisted into knots as you paced back and forth in your living room, trying to find the right words to say to the man in front of you. 
“How’s that case coming?” you ask him, eyeing the sheets of paper spread gathered in a pile and his laptop on his kitchen table. It must have been one of the days he chose to work from home, if the mess is anything to go by.
Matt lifts a shoulder in response as he shoves another bite into his mouth and swallows. You eye the way his cherry, bow-strung lips wrap themselves around his fork. “It’s a bit of a beast, to be honest. No concrete alibi, a witness that places our client at the location of the crime within a few hours of it happening. But Foggy thinks he’s got a lead, so we’re hoping something comes through.” 
“But you don’t necessarily have to have great leads, right? As long as you can discredit the prosecution’s?”
Matt looks so downright happy that your heart flutters in your chest. He sends you a teasing smile. “Yeah, that’s right. Look at you, it seems you do occasionally listen when I’m talking.”
“I guess I just like the sound of your voice,” you tell him sarcastically. Matt throws back his head and laughs as you chuck back the line you know he’s used on women before, yourself included.
“I’m blind,” he says when he’s done laughing. He takes another bite, and again you find yourself distracted by the movement. “It is fully within my right to use that line.”
“If you used it as a genuine compliment rather than a line to seduce women, I might be able to excuse it.”
He drops his mouth in mock upset. “Why can’t it be both?”
You snicker before taking another bite. “I’ve known you for years, Matt. If it was a genuine compliment, you’d say it to women you weren’t trying to hook up with.”
“That’s…fair.”
You laugh again. “I’ve known you for too long, Matt. I’ve figured out most of your secrets.”
“I highly doubt that,” he says with a grin, blank eyes aimed over your shoulder. “We wouldn’t be friends if you did.”
Your eyebrows raise as you consider him. “Is that so?”
His laugh is almost self deprecating, and it causes your lips to twist into a small frown. “No one wants to be inside my head. I don’t even want to be inside it.” 
“And if I did?”
His expression is curious, his head tilted as he observes you in the way that is uniquely him. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Maybe I just want to know more about you,” you shrug your shoulders. You take a large sip of your water, lips curling briefly in disgust as he does the same with his beer. His beer of choice is revolting, and you’ve never been able to tell if he actually likes it, or if it’s because he thinks he deserves the worst in all things, even his alcohol. “We’ve been friends for a while, haven’t we? Sometimes I can tell you want to let things slip, but you always hold back.”
“It’s been a rough road,” he says in response, letting out a sigh as he shakes his head. You grimace, knowing just how rough the road has been, having met him at a low point in his life. But even at his worst, he managed to draw you in like a moth to the flame. “It wasn’t pretty. Not sure that’s something you want to hear about, sweetheart.”
His name for you rolls off his tongue easily, which is no surprise since he’s been calling you that ever since it randomly slipped out at a drunken night at Josie’s. You’ve worked hard over the years to not react to it in a way that wasn’t strictly friendly, but tonight you…can’t help it. The word runs through your veins before it settles in your heart, and you find yourself flushing. 
Matt pauses, his next bite of food sitting on his fork halfway to his mouth. The tilt of his head indicates he’s picked up on the way your heart has briefly stuttered. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” you say, attempting to brush it off and not give yourself away so soon. You’ve planned out what you want to say tonight, and you’re…not quite ready to go there. You need to ease into it, prepare yourself for the possibility that he might not feel the same way, because there is still a very real chance that this will all blow up in your face.
“You sure?”
You smile softly, his quiet concern washing over you like a gentle breeze on a warm spring day. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
There’s a quiet lull in the conversation as you focus on the food in front of you, and the silence is a comfortable one. You watch as he takes another bite, eyeing the way he never spills a single piece of his food with a small sense of envy. You, on the other hand, cause a mess all over your own t-shirt with every meal, and tonight is no exception. You wet a napkin with your water and try to get rid of the stain that’s forming, though you know it’s not going to do much.
“What were you up to today?” His voice snaps you out of your head, the question popping up out of the blue after he takes another swig of his god awful beer. “Didn’t you take the day off? Karen said she called you earlier to ask if you wanted to grab coffee, but that you said you were out of the office today.”
“Uh, yeah,” you say as you push your plate away from you, having finished with dinner. Matt does the same after funneling in one last bite. Over the years, your work has sometimes overlapped with the practice of Nelson, Murdock & Page, so it’s not unusual for Karen to call you up for coffee breaks or lunch dates.“I took some time just to decompress for a bit.”
“Just for fun?”
You shift in your seat awkwardly before you choose to stand up to grab your dishes from his coffee table, intending to help clean up. Matt stands up quickly and waves your hand away, picking them up instead, along with the extra food neither one of you had eaten. He walks them over to the kitchen and places them into his sink with a clank. 
“No, not really,” you tell him honestly after a moment. Your mind quickly shuffles through the best way to broach the topic. “I uh…I had lunch with David earlier.”
The entire line of Matt’s body goes stiff, and you watch as every inch of him stops moving in front of you from where he’s standing in front of the facet. He’s quiet for a moment, and it looks like a war is taking place inside his head as he frowns. He lets out a loud breath, and it strikes you that he looks like he’s trying to shake himself out of it, but failing.
“That’s…nice,” he says, and the words sound incredibly tense and forced. “I hope he’s doing well.”
You grimace at the reminder of David’s angry face, twiddling your thumbs as you stand awkwardly in his living room. “I don’t think he’s doing especially well right now.”
Matt grabs a few tupperware containers from under his kitchen sink and begins shoveling leftovers into them, his face carefully blank. “That’s a shame. Is everything okay?”
“Okay with me? Or okay with him?”
Matt’s head tilts at the question. “Both? Mostly you, though. Are you okay?”
“I mean…yeah,” you say, realizing it’s the absolute truth as a small smile appears across your face. Matt nods to himself, snapping the lid of a container shut, and if he uses a little more force than usual, neither one of you acknowledges it.
“That’s good,” he mumbles just loudly enough for you to hear from across the room. You watch as he walks over and places the leftovers in his fridge. “Good. I’m glad everything is good.”
“It is good,” you repeat, and your smile widens hesitantly, despite your nerves. “We went to that Mexican restaurant on 51st.”
Matt pauses and tilts his head towards you, looking confused. “You hate that place.”
You let out a laugh. “I absolutely detest it, actually. It’s not authentic at all, and the rice and beans are awful.”
“Why would you go there then?” The look on his face tells you that he thinks the concept is absolutely ridiculous.
You shrug your shoulders lightly as you make your way closer to his dining table, fingers running over the paper he has piled up, tracing lightly over the bumps. “David wanted to go there.”
Matt’s face returns to a look that is forcibly blank as he turns on the water and begins washing the dishes. “Does he know you don’t like it?”
“He was hoping I’d change my mind. He uh…didn’t always care too much about the places I liked going to.”
“Right,” he mutters, almost too quiet for you to hear as he begins scrubbing furiously. You find yourself almost feeling bad for the poor sponge. “That’s kind of him, always taking you to places he knows you don’t like.”
Your eyebrows raise at the borderline hostility towards a man who’s not even in the room. “It’s okay, Matt,” you say, watching the way his face has screwed up slightly in frustration. “It’s not a big deal.”
“You’d think your boyfriend would at least try to find places to go to that you both like, instead of just choosing what works for him.”
You don’t disagree with him, mostly because it was something you’d picked up early on with David anyway, but the sentence still makes you frown. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“You’ve been dating for a few months though, right?”
You open your mouth to respond.“Well yes–”
“Then even if you haven’t made things official, he still should make more of an effort to keep you in mind when making plans.”
“Matt–”
His voice has grown louder, and it’s almost alarming, the way he’s reacting right now. “It’s kind of inconsiderate, actually. He should–” 
“I broke up with him.”
Matt freezes, every inch of him momentarily coming to a screeching halt, the dish towel still in his hands. He frowns, appearing extremely bewildered, and you don’t necessarily blame him, not with the words you let slip past your lips in an effort to stop his tangent. He looks briefly like the wind has been knocked out of his sails before he recovers. “Why would you do that?”
You shrug, observing him as he slowly places the dish towel on the counter. “It didn’t feel right with him.”
“It didn’t feel right with him?” He repeats almost flatly. You nod, biting your bottom lip. He takes a deep breath and leans back against the counter, fully facing you now. “Well, it’s…good you figured that out, right? No one deserves to be led on.”
“That’s right,” you whisper, and you’re almost taken aback by the sadness that flashes across his face. 
Does he not–
He’s still frowning, his lips tugged down on the corners of his mouth. “Are you sure you’re okay? Shouldn’t you–”
“Matt,” you sigh as you take another few steps forward into the kitchen, effectively cutting him off. Matt looks like he can’t tell if he should stay still or bolt at the sudden movement. “I broke up with the guy I was seeing, and the only thing I’ve wanted to do was come here.”
He licks his lips nervously, and the motion draws your eyes to his mouth, a mouth you’ve thought about more times than you want to admit. “I’m…I’m not sure what to say to that.”
You smile sadly, quickly coming to the realization this isn’t the way you pictured this conversation going. “You don’t really need to say anything. I just…thought you should know.”
“But why did you think I should know?” 
You shuffle your feet, and you know you’re quickly losing your nerve as your heart settles in your stomach, a heavy wrecking ball ready to destroy whatever you had come over here to say. “Because we’re friends. Right?”
Matt almost flinches, his body practically deflating in front of you. “Right. Friends. This is totally something you talk about with friends.” The man shudders in front of you and closes his eyes, head turning away from you. He’s silent, and the longer he doesn’t say anything, the more uneasy you get. 
Had you…read this wrong? 
Years of warm, flirty comments. Years of late night take out. Years of bright smiles and impromptu sleepovers when he’s too tired to leave your couch after you’ve patched him up. Years of random coffee meet-ups and hugs that lasted longer than they did with Karen and Foggy. Years of Saturday morning walks through Central Park and dry, sarcastic comments thrown at each other like confetti.
Years of feeling like something was always lurking beneath the surface, but never quite knowing, never quite believing what it was or could be.
You honestly don’t know why it’s taken you so long to get to this point in your life. Matt was a man you once upon a time had a crush on, before his apparent lack of interest forced you to shove those feelings aside. It was more than enough, you’ve told yourself over the years, to just be his friend, and so eventually, you dropped it.
Until one day…a side comment from Karen caught your ear and everything simply slid into place.
A side comment that suggested that just perhaps…he felt the same way, too.
But maybe, thinking back on it, Karen had been wrong. She was drunk when she slurred it to you three weeks ago at happy hour, so perhaps listening to her wasn’t the best idea. Maybe she saw something that wasn’t there. Maybe she simply hoped for her best friends to be happy, and made up a story in her head and nonchalantly passed it along to you.
You shift on your feet in mild distress, and take a small step back, unconsciously trying to separate yourself from the pain and panic that is suddenly rippling through you. You haven’t even really said anything to him about your feelings yet, and things are already crashing and burning around you. “I’m sorry that this kinda…came out of nowhere, I guess,” you laugh humorlessly. 
His face snaps back to yours. “What came out of nowhere?”
“Just…nothing.” The words come out as a quiet sigh and your eyes drift over to the billboard that flashes outside his living room window, unable to look at him anymore. The display shifts through multiple colors on repeat, and while you’ve always been comforted by the light it offers Matt’s often dark apartment, today you feel like the cheery image on the screen is mocking you.
“No, tell me,” you hear him insist. His voice is laced with something you can’t quite put a finger on, but you shove it aside.
Running your hand through your hair, a bitter laugh makes its way out of your mouth. “Me, coming over here to tell you I’d broken things off with David. I thought…well I don’t know what I thought, actually.”
“You’re lying,” he accuses, and out of the corner of your eye, you watch him cross his arms across his chest. You know it’s a habit he has when he feels flustered or when he’s unconsciously trying to shut someone out, a barrier between someone else and whatever he’s feeling. The motion causes you to flinch.
You shrug your shoulders in an attempt to make your voice sound as blank as possible. “I’m really not.”
The man doesn’t let up, his voice growing louder with each word that comes out of his mouth. “You came over here to say something specific, didn’t you?”
Your eyes shift back to him. “No, I just–”
“Did you forget that I can tell when you’re lying?” Matt’s beginning to look borderline frustrated, and you wince at the way his voice has shifted. It’s rare that he uses that tone on you, usually reserving it for when he’s upset about a case he’s working on, or someone who’s stirring up trouble on the streets.
You shake your head, and you feel a traitorous flash of heat on your cheeks. This is embarrassing. Why did you think a man like this could possibly feel the same? “I’m not trying to lie, I just realized that maybe I was wrong about something and that I should probably just go home.”
You move to turn on your heel and leave the kitchen, but hands wrap themselves around your upper arms before you can move more than a few inches. He pulls you in further until you can almost feel the heat of him against you, and you shift your eyes back away from him, struggling to think with him so close.
“Don’t leave. I’m…I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on with you. You’re acting strange,” he says as he continues to hold your arms, though his hands are exceedingly gentle like always. You try to wiggle away, but he doesn’t let go.
“I’m fine, I think I’m just tired.”
He shakes his head, his face still a mix of upset and concern, his voice lowering to almost a growl. “Am I really going to have to pry it out of you?”
“Matt–”
“Just tell me.”
You blurt it out before you can stop yourself, the words tearing themselves out of your lips. “I came over here to tell you that I have feelings for you.”
He stills against you, his sightless eyes going wide, his mouth opening in shock. You hear his breath catch, no doubt surprised beyond belief. “What?”
You bow your head in something neighboring shame.
“Yeah,” you mumble under your breath. He’s silent, his face still a combination of frustration and surprise, and you decide his processing of the new information isn’t something you want to be around for. “I think I should go home.”
He seems to snap out of a haze, and his hands tighten around your arms when you try to pull away again. “You can’t just say something like that and then leave. I can tell there’s more that you want to say, so just say it.”
You’re suddenly exhausted, energy leaching from your pores. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”
“No,” is all he says, jaw tight, locked and ready to latch on to anything that might pour out of your mouth.
“Right,” you mutter under your breath. Your eyes drift away from him again, suddenly desperate to separate yourself from him as much as possible. “I think I’ve always felt this way. I, uh…it’s stupid really, but I–”
“Then why now?” He demands, though the tone isn’t as harsh as you would have suspected of someone who had just had their whole world rocked. “Why are you saying this now?”
Your eyes well at the question, and it takes every inch of you to not let a single tear fall, devastation beginning to settle in like an unwanted freeze in the middle of spring, unknowingly killing all the plants and flowers that have already been so lovingly attended to. 
“Karen said something a few weeks ago, something about you maybe feeling the same way, and I knew I needed to at least try to say something. And I also knew that I couldn’t have anything going on with David if there was any chance that you had feelings for me, too.” 
Head hung in misery, you try again to pull away as he still doesn’t say anything. “I hope…I hope that this hasn’t ruined anything between us. We can still be friends, right? This doesn’t have to change anything, if we don’t want it to. It’s seriously okay that you don’t feel the same–”
“I do.”
Every cell freezes in your body and your heart stutters to a stop. Your eyes lift to look at him, taking in the way he seems as equally as terrified as you felt when your own words ripped out of your head and into an actual confession. “What did you–”
He licks his lips again, but his face suddenly morphs into something more focused, something more sharp and heated and purposeful. “You heard me.”
“You feel–”
“Yes.” The way he’s still holding you suggests that he’s reluctant to pull away from you more than a centimeter. It’s shifted from something that merely kept you close to him because he didn’t want you to leave, to something that seems more intentional, more determined to keep you near for the sole sake of just holding you. “I feel the same way.”
“For how lo–”
His eyes land somewhere on your cheek. “A while. Years.”
Your heart thunders in your chest, the sound of it in your ears almost as deafening as standing next to a waterfall. “Why…why didn’t you ever say anything?” You ask quietly once you’ve caught your breath, your eyes flitting across his face as he suddenly reaches up to brush your hair behind your ear. 
“I was not in a good place when we met,” he whispers, and you wince, because he was right. He hadn’t been. “It took me a while to put myself together, after everything that happened with Midland Circle and Elektra. And by the time I realized how I felt, by the time I felt like I could maybe be a person at least somewhat deserving of you, you had met Brad.”
Brad. An ex-boyfriend you had dated for about a year. Nice guy. Boring, but nice. He treated you well, at least, and you hadn’t necessarily been unhappy with him. 
It’s just that…you had used him as a distraction from your feelings for Matt, if you were being honest with yourself. Not exactly a kind thing to do to someone you knew had genuine feelings towards you, but it worked enough that you were able to shove things aside and convince yourself you were over Matt.
As if I could ever be fully over Matt Murdock.
“I told myself you deserved to be with someone who was whole. Someone who could spend every evening with you. Someone who could invite you to dinner with his family, someone who could give you a stable, simple life. Things I knew I couldn’t give you.”
You frown at the words pouring out of his mouth. “But I…that was a few years ago, Matt. You could have said—”
He interrupts you gently with a calloused finger over your lips. “You’re right, I could have. But just because you weren’t seeing Brad anymore, didn’t mean I didn’t want those things for you. Even if you were single, I couldn’t bring myself to take those things away from you.”
“And…and if I didn’t care about all of those things, as long as I had you?”
He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “There are still some things I’m not sure that I can give you. Some things that–”
You open your mouth to object before he even finishes his sentence. “Those things don’t matter to me.”
He looks extremely pained as he finally releases your arms, and you mourn the loss of contact. He takes a small step back, and this time it’s you who chases him, your feet bringing you right in front of him again, unwilling to allow for any sort of distance. “You say that now, but–”
“We’ve been friends for years, Matt,” you tell him, denying him the chance to argue his way out of this. “If I didn’t want to be in your life, I would have left a long time ago.”
His smile is wry. “Friendships are different from relationships.”
“I know that,” you tell him honestly and without hesitation, because you do know that. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a wonderful man who deserves happiness just as much as everyone else.”
His laugh is almost bitter. “I’m not so sure–”
“You don’t have to be, because I am.”
“You can’t possibly–”
You cut him off again. “You deserve all things that are good and wonderful and gentle. You deserve someone who is there for you, no matter what. You deserve love.”
He finally pauses, taking a breath that rapidly expands his chest before he lets it out, the air shuddering as it leaves his lips. His hand is shaking lightly, when it slowly reaches out to settle itself on your cheek. His eyes flutter shut, and he looks like he’s so hesitant, so afraid of whatever you’ll say in response to his next question. “And you…you want to be that person?”
Your answer is simple, and it requires no thought. It’s as if the words have spent the last few years laying dormant underneath your tongue. “I do, if you want me to be.”
He still looks extremely doubtful as he speaks, as if he’s nervous you’ll be scared off, or take the words back. You’ve come too far to ever let anything this man throws at you to chase you away. 
“You understand that I can’t promise you all the things you might want?” He begins, eyes shutting again as he all but tears himself apart in front of you, exposing all the muscle and blood underneath his scarred flesh, and you watch as the dark of his eyelashes settle against his fair skin. “I can’t promise I’ll be home every night to fall asleep with you, I can’t promise I won’t try to push you away sometimes, I can’t promise that I’ll ever want kids, given the life I lead.”
You grab the hand that’s not resting on your cheek and place it directly over your heart, the muscle pounding underneath the flesh and bone that’s keeping you together despite your nerves. “I don’t care what our life looks like, as long as it's you next to me, every step of the way.”
He’s quiet for a moment, before his eyelids flutter open, letting his brown eyes fall where they may. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”
“Was I lying, Matt?” 
You watch as he takes a deep breath, his head jerking side to side. “If this…” he trails off, head still tilted towards yours as he licks his lips. “If you’re…there’s still tons of things going through my mind right now, most of them not good, and I need to hear you say it. I won’t believe it until I hear you say it.”
You already know what he’s asking before he finishes speaking, and the words come to your lips without thought, without hesitation. “I love you.”
Despite all the fear and pain and panic that you’ve felt at the thought of him not feeling the same way for you, the three-word sentence is the easiest thing you’ve ever said to him in the years that you’ve been friends. It feels like the words were always meant to come out of your mouth, always meant to wrap him up in you until there’s no space left between your skin and his.
He sighs, and this time it sounds content, happy almost. He takes a small step towards you, eliminating most of the remaining distance between you, and lowers his forehead to yours.
The hand on your cheek lowers slightly so that he can run a calloused finger over your bottom lip. “Can I…can I kiss you?”
“Please.”
He uses both of his hands to cradle your face gently, keeping you locked into place as he presses his lips against yours, at first almost shyly, and then with more pressure. There’s not a single question or thought in your head as you respond, mouth opening under his, parting to allow him to pour all of his unspoken words into your body. Soft lips. Heated cheeks. Stubble rubbing your face. Firm body pressed against yours. Your own hands slide against his waist as you anchor yourself against him, and he takes the opportunity to press more fully against you.
The kiss, even while it remains soft, is as heated as the flush that is spreading through your skin like wildfire, your blood burning as it pushes through your veins. 
Matt pulls away reluctantly, panting against you. “I love you, too,” he says quietly, reverently. “In case I didn’t make that clear.” It’s the first time you’ve ever believed a man when those words have been said to you, but maybe it’s because you’ve always been waiting for him to say them. 
With a small smile, you bring his mouth back down to yours, eager to feel his lips pressed against yours again. His hands move from your face, one sliding into your hair, the other to your hip as if to steady him. He steps forward, pushing you into the counter behind you, before lifting you and placing you on top of it.
He spreads your legs immediately and steps in between them, still appearing desperate to press every inch of your body into his, as if he’s nervous you’ll slip through his fingers if he’s not holding you to him tightly enough. His entire torso is burning against you through his shirt and your own, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ll catch on fire the second his skin is on yours.
You feel him smile against your lips, and it doesn’t drop as he leans back and places another light kiss on your forehead. “It really took Karen saying something for you to realize that this could be…more?”
You snort, because of all things that could come out of his mouth after kissing you breathless, mentioning another woman was the last thing you could have imagined. “That woman could run the world with her hands tied behind her back if she wanted to.”
“I’m not going to disagree with you there,” he says with a laugh, gentle hand running through your hair again. “But was that seriously the tipping point?”
You blush and divert your eyes from his face. “I thought there was no way someone like you could ever feel that way about me, so I buried it,” you admit, hands fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. “And I guess it took Karen saying something offhandedly for me to realize I had never actually moved on. It took her pointing out that I just might have a chance. So…I’m sorry. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”
He shakes his head silently before pressing a brief kiss on your mouth. You lean in, but he pulls away with a small smile. “Don’t be sorry. Not for this. Maybe…maybe things had to go this way, you know? And we’re here now, aren’t we?”
Your voice is shaking when you reply. “We’re here now.”
“And I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers as he lowers his mouth back down to yours. You watch as his dark eyes land somewhere on your cheek, the gaze heated. “Things won’t be easy for us, but I promise that loving you will be the most important thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, sweetheart. I promise.”
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berrieluv · 1 year
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cw. sex, fights and man thinking they're in the right when they're not. I enjoyed writing this silly things about matt murdock, who's my current obsession in this little break I had for Día de los muertos, tomorrow I'm back at school and work :c
"... and there isn't a small part of yourself that tells you; and listen, this may sound incredible insane" Karen continued with a bit of sarcasm in her voice after Matt shut up for a second after complaining for ten minutes straight "But maybe you're wrong?"
Matt looked at her and mocked her, because how could he be wrong.
Y/N isn't sleeping at my place at the moment.
Was what started all this talk. Foggy asked why the place suddenly felt quiet and dark when he got used to having your colored stuff around and your voice echoing the brick walls.
"How can I be wrong, she's the dumb one"
He simply asked, as if Karen's accusations were completely out of this world.
"Maybe you could start respecting her, and you wouldn't be in this situation"
She hasn't talk to me in two weeks.
Matt said, trying to look as it didn't bothered him when in reality he had no idea on what to do with himself. He got so use to you being there to put him back together that now that he was by his own again he didn't know what to do.
"I respect her..." He started, and Karen looked at him, incredulous "I don't call her dumb in her face"
"Is not... Is not how you direct at her but how you express yourself of the one you love in front of other what is a key on respect" Matt groaned, as if it was the most complicated thing to do. "Everyone like their partner talking wonders about them, I can tell you she does. You're a hero for her"
"I'm kind of a hero"
"You're an imbecile"
You helped Matt inside his apartment and drop his arm as soon as the door was closed, his face is 'looking' at your direction and you see him frown.
"Are you mad at me or something?" He started, and you look at him incredulous, forgetting he can't see the look in your face "You haven't talk to me the whole way here"
You revolved around the place, picking up some of your things and trying to ease your anger. Knowing it wouldn't take you far to speak to Matt like that.
"Why were you making fun of me the whole night?"
You ask, calmly, trying to maintain yourself together. He hates when you do that, he hates how you start those type of questions with a 'why', with a low and almost breaking voice, as if he had been wrong, as if anything he does is enough for you. Trying to get him to feel guilty about the way he decides to express himself, trying to make him feel guilty about being him.
"You disrespected me... In front of people who are, incredible important for me... for my job"
He is about to talk and you cut him, knowing he's about to excuse himself, as if you knew he wasn't thinking of an apology "Is almost as you don't think I'm good at what I do"
"Darling..." He starts, mocking, "You're an assistant" You open your mouth and look at him with a frown "You- you can't be possible be good at your job... you're just... at your job"
You were done. You closed your mouth and started packing the things you left there just last night, knowing Matt could sense you moving around and not talking to him, making him go crazy because he heard your heart racing fast but he didn't know what you were thinking, how you felt about the, well, the truth he just said. Because he was firmly believing it was the truth.
"And for the record... My job really is important... I– I do a lot of things Matt and if you were paying attention and weren't too busy in mocking me you would've heard that I am up for a promotion. I– I'm next to have my own office and– why am I bothering explaining this to you" you say when you look the stupid smile planted in his face, as if he was waiting for you to finish and disregard any feelings you have towards this "You wouldn't get shit done without Karen, your assistant"
"Karen isn't–"
"God, shut up!" You raise your voice, throwing a mascara to his face, a bit disappointed that he stopped it before it could hit his face. You wanted to hurt him the same way he was hurting you "I'm tired of... of everything, of people telling I'm too dumb to notice things, of people thinking I'm just made to be someone's pretty wife when I'm– I'm so much more than that..." you sigh "I know, I know I can be dumb but I'm so smart, I'm so dedicated and hardworking and pretty and if people started to focus less in the last part and start acknowledging the others..."
"Baby, you don't even need to work. You're stressing yourself over nothing" He starts, missing completely the point of your speech "I'm making a lot of money, and when Nelson and Murdock is on its peak I'll be able to buy you everything you want"
He smiles, as if he just said the thing you wanted to hear, and the worst of this is that he was proud of what he just said.
You stop talking, tired, knowing he couldn't possibly understand because he was a smart, handsome white man, things came served in silver tray for him.
You get close to him, bags in hand but he can't possibly know that, he just smiles at your closeness, your heartbeat slower this time and next thing he knows his back is arching and his hands go straight to his crotch. You knew damn well it wasn't fair from you to hit a blind man, but you didn't hit him because he was blind, you did it because he was an asshole.
"I'll be back when you learn to respect me. My feelings and what I do. When you show me you know I'm not a trophy and just like you I want to be showed off for my merits and not just for being your pretty little bimbo girlfriend"
Of course Matt didn't tell the story like that to his friends. And he didn't acknowledge the mascara still laying on the floor, he knew it was somewhere around the apartment, he has step on it a few times, but he believed you had to come and pick it up, since you were the one who left it there.
"Why don't you apologize" Foggy said, eating from the Chinese food that was delivered, knowing that if you were they would be eating one of the best home-cooked meals. "I mean, you were kinda wrong"
Matt looked at him, incredulous "How- How was I wrong? For lighting up the place with my jokes and stealing the spotlight? I'm sorry I'm funny and handsome"
"I just don't think that was happened" Karen said.
"What kind of jokes were you making?" Foggy asked, with the fork pointing at Matt "Because I just know you're not good at jokes if they're not to make fun about people"
Matt gets suddenly nervous, maybe his mistake was saying the word 'joke' in the conversation.
"Oh, God, Matt" Karen said again "You fucking asshole"
Matt liked to make fun of you. Everyone knew that, and most of the time they were harmless jokes, even you laughed at them, and the moments you pouted Matt would kiss you, reassuring you that you were the best thing that happened to him, and he couldn't be happier.
So he didn't know what went wrong this time. Maybe it was your uncomfortable look telling him, begging him, to stop. Maybe it was how you pulled away from his kisses, trying to show a professional behavior to the people around. Maybe it was how you murmured a little 'stop it' in his ear, with a fake smile he couldn't see and a tone of anger in your voice. Or maybe it was how you dragged him away from the people and asked him to stop with the tasteless jokes. But how was he supposed to read your mind.
"Maybe I was wrong" He says, starting to repeat the events of the night in his head, and not knowing how all your signs of discomfort passed by him. "God, I was an ass"
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You hated spending time alone. You hated how big your department was and you hated how your dad called you every five fucking minutes to ask why Matt wasn't around.
You hated how Matt wasn't there to hug you from behind and leave a walk of kisses on your neck while you were working, you hated how much you missed him and how much you wanted to run to him and forget everything that happened.
But he deserved this. And if he wasn't one to apologize this time, and show you he was mature enough to be in a relationship, maybe this was the end of you both. Because you couldn't possibly picture yourself in a relationship where you had to admit you were wrong because he couldn't possibly grab his balls and accept he wasn't in the right.
Your bell rings and you let it go, thinking it was the packages you ordered, then it goes again, and again, this time more insistent. And you rolled your eyes at the insistence.
When you open the door the first thing you see is Matt, standing with ordinary clothes, a tight shirt, making his muscles notorious and reminding you why you didn't last much mad at him. You were lucky he was wearing a loose suit that day. You cross your arms and look at him.
"What do you want, Matthew"
"I'm sorry" He starts, and that's the only thing you wanted to hear, but it took him two weeks, and now it wasn't enough. "I'm really sorry I– I disrespected you and I shouldn't have done that and I, I know you're mad but you said you will be here when I learned my lesson and I, I really love you"
"Yeah, good for you" You start. Still on the door frame, not making space for him to go in or inviting him.
"I really mean it, Y/N. I was an asshole and it took me too long to realize it and– You know I'm not good with... feelings"
"Oh, no, you're amazing at feelings, Matthew. You fall in love with every girl who talks nice to you and shows you a bit of decency, hell you even fall in love with those who doesn't, you're a manwhore. So don't come to me saying feelings aren't your thing because I just know they are"
"I–"
"You need to learn to admit you're wrong"
"I was wrong"
You look at him and sigh, you wanted to hear a sincere 'I was wrong', you wanted him to be really sorry, to show you he could grown into a man who admits his mistakes, a husband, maybe a father.
"How can I believe it when you don't believe it yourself?" He quickly falls at his knees and you look around, it's not everyday that you have Matt Murdock, the Daredevil, begging on his knees. "Don't be ridiculous, Matthew. You look pathetic"
"Baby, baby, baby..." He prays, hugging your arms and murmuring 'sorry' a thousand times.
"Get up"
And he does, after saying 'Anything you want' and taking your face in his hands. "How can I make this better? How can I make you believe me?"
And you believed him, because Matt wasn't one to tell you lies. He has never lie about anything in your relationship and you couldn't get to believe he would start today. Because if he decided to lie over this fight, he would've done it days ago, but he took his time, he worked in his case and got to realize he was really wrong. But you loved seeing a pretty man in pain.
"Matt, get in" You told him, and he obeyed, and just as quickly as the door closed your lips were in his. Wildly devouring him, taking his face with both of your hands and showing him how much you missed him.
Your hands hit his when he tries to touch you. You guide him to the couch and throw him there, getting rid of your pajamas shorts and pushing his chest so his back was touching the couch again. Matt could smell your arousal, your neediness, and he grinned, proud of himself.
You take his glasses and throw them to some place in your department, hoping they break so he would finally get another ones. A pretty ones this time.
Now your hands are on the base of the couch and your pussy's on Matt's face, and he eats it, like a starved man, which he kinda was, he haven't taste you in so long he needed this.
He didn't complain, he couldn't possibly know you were about to ride his face, but how could he say anything about it, when his hands were holding your hips, making sure they were leaving marks.
He moved his hands to your thighs and caressed them, completely forgetting Foggy and Karen where downstairs in the car, waiting for him to tell them if he made it right or things were finally over.
You started moaning louder, knowing Matt hated when you tried to be silent. Your chest rests in the wall of the couch while Matt keeps moving his tongue down there, tasting your wetness and making you cum. This time in surprise, no adverting him, not asking for permission because this was for your pleasure, and it was for you to do what you wanted, you needed him to understand control could play both parts.
When you need to get down, feeling your sore pussy begging for him to stop, he holds your thighs stronger and continues eating you out, your body shaking, and he knows what he's doing, because he knows your body and he knows how sensitive you get after coming.
"Need you, baby" He says "Need you in my cock"
You shake your hand, this wasn't about him and what he needed, and he didn't seem to understand it yet.
"We do what I want this time, Matt" You moan "We– ugh, fuck– you do what I want"
He nods, getting your pussy off his face and coming closer to yours, kissing your lips and putting one of his hands in your neck.
"What do you need, princess? What do you want, my love?" And he knew what it was, his cock, but it needed to be cleared that this was because you needed it, and not him. "You need my cock, don't you? My pretty baby needs my cock? You– fuck you got it, princess. You need my cock just take it, it's yours and only yours"
You're quick to lower his sweatpants to his knees, being greet by his big and pink cock looking at you, your mouth drools and you can't decide if you want it in your mouth or your pussy first.
"Let me fill you up, doll" He says when you start taking his cock in your pussy "Fuck, fuck, you, you're so good at this"
You chuckle, because you were barely moving but he was so needy it was almost funny. It would be funny if you weren't in the same state. And you could mock him, but you would be spitting up.
"Matt..." You start "I need you to understand, fuck, that you can't be thinking things for this long I– I need you to know what you want and where– God, yes, yes, like that– where, where we stand"
"I love you" He thrusts into you "I love you and–" He thrusts again, this time his finger was in your clit, circling it and making imposible for you to keep your eyes open "And I'm sorry, I was, I was wrong. I was wrong and you were right"
And know you understood why man loved being right, why they loved dominating over anything, because Matt saying out loud what you already knew was hotter than anything you've get him to say.
"Say it again"
He frowned, and you repeated your words "You– you were right?" You moan "You were right and I was wrong" He says as he feels you riding him faster "I was so wrong, princess. I'm so–sorry, you were right"
You moan and nod, resting your hands in his soft chest and impulsing yourself to go faster, making Matt moan when his cum finally taints your walls.
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bellaxgiornata · 10 months
Text
All These Years [Part 5: "Graduation"]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
Summary: You met Matthew Murdock unexpectedly at Columbia University and you couldn't deny that there was an instant attraction–for you. But for Matt, you became as close of a friend to him as Foggy did. As the years pass by, your feelings only grow for your best friend, but all you can do is watch as he dates and sleeps with every other woman on campus and eventually in New York City but you.
Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut
Word Count: 4.2k
a/n: This one hurts a little differently than the others. But oh, the next installment will be interesting...and that one is tentatively titled "Jealous and Impolite," but the title may change a tad when I have it written out. And we're pretending Foggy and Matt briefly get an apartment together at the beginning of their internship but then have their own place shortly before they open their own firm (but it's not really important besides Matt's upcoming nighttime hobby). The list of installments for this series can be found here. And feedback is always appreciated!
Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella2 @ms-murdockswift
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Weaving your way around the crowds of people milling about in different directions outside on the campus lawn, your hands nervously fidgeted with the powder blue cap held between them. Your robes swished around your bare calves as you navigated the uproar around you, the weight of them uncomfortable over your dress on this warmer late May afternoon. All the while your eyes searched for Matt and Foggy among the chaos as you maneuvered your way around group after group of people. 
Your graduation ceremony had finished just before theirs, but you'd stayed behind in order to watch the pair of them walk, just like you’d promised them you would. You hadn't had a chance to see either of them before graduation this morning though, having been too busy getting ready yourself while trying to refrain from vomiting from the nerves swirling in your stomach. And when Matt's name had finally been called out and you had seen him walk across that stage in his own powder blue cap and gown, your heart had nearly stopped in your chest at the sight. It was like time had slowed down to a drag, your eyes following his every movement. He looked so handsome and happy, a broad smile on his face as he accepted the diploma cover. It wasn't until he'd walked off the stage that you had realized you'd been holding your breath, a wide smile spread across your own mouth. 
After his breakup with Elektra, Matt’s motivation had significantly plummeted. He’d been a mess for weeks, barely ever wanting to leave his bed and attend classes. He often said it wasn’t because of her, trying to deny it everytime you or Foggy tried to comfort him over the situation, but you and Foggy knew better. Matt hadn’t been himself for a very long time after Elektra had broken his heart. He’d even almost missed an important exam that he needed to pass in order to graduate the other week. If it hadn’t been for Foggy forcing him to get out of bed and get dressed and then practically dragging him to the exam himself, Matt would surely have missed it and he wouldn’t have been walking across that stage today. 
And the thought of that killed you, knowing just how much it had meant to Matt to graduate with this degree. How hard he’d been working for years for it. He had always been so incredibly passionate about law and about wanting to help those who weren’t fortunate enough to be able to afford good legal representation in the future. He’d been like that since the day you’d first met him in the library. You had spent many a night over the past couple of years listening to him and Foggy debate different topics in their dorm room–ethics often being a big one between them. And the way Matt always spoke so eloquently and intensely about his love and desire to help others had only steadily grown your love for him in return over the years you’d come to know him. He had the most compassionate heart of anyone you’d ever met and he had the most brilliant mind to accompany it. So it only broke your own heart further seeing him giving up on his dreams ever since she had disappeared. Which had once again only given you further reason to hate Elektra–she’d come into his life in a whirlwind and left a mess of the man he’d once been in her wake. 
Though while she’d certainly crushed his spirit–withering it away to almost nothing–she hadn’t broken him completely. You and Foggy had spent plenty of time picking up the pieces and putting him slowly back together. Encouraging him to focus on his studies and to let her go. Eventually he’d done just that, and now him and Foggy were off to intern at a large law firm–Landman and Zack. The pair of them had even gotten an apartment together lined up. Meanwhile, you were still waiting to hear back about the position you’d interviewed for last week, hoping you would have the funds to continue to pay for the apartment you’d recently leased. You were waiting on that news to come some time today, though.
The sound of your name being called out from behind you drew you to a stop and pulled you straight from your thoughts. Your brows furrowed as you spun in a circle, searching for whoever it was that might have been calling for you. A few seconds later, your eyes scanning the throngs of people around you, you finally spotted Foggy and Matt emerging from the masses. Both men were grinning wide, Matt holding onto Foggy’s forearm as Foggy led the pair of them over towards you. They were clutching their diploma covers under an arm, the sight still surreal.
“I didn’t think I’d ever find you two!” you exclaimed, making your way towards them.
“It’s a goddamn madhouse here!” Foggy shouted back, the grin never leaving his mouth. “And don’t you look stunning in that baby blue potato sack!”
You laughed, shooting Foggy the finger before your eyes shifted to Matt. The pair of them came to a stop just before you and you felt your heart speed up in your chest as your eyes took in the sight of Matt in his cap and gown. His dark glasses were covering his eyes, but nothing could hide the glow of sheer happiness and excitement on his face as he beamed back at you. You tried hard to fight the ridiculous smile on your own face as you stared at him for a moment, but you noticed Foggy beside him had certainly caught the stupid, dopey smile you were aiming at Matt. Heat rose up to your cheeks as you glanced down in embarrassment, grateful Matt couldn’t see it himself.
“We fucking did it!” Foggy cried out. 
“I can’t believe it still,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair. “Like, I feel like I still have classes next week to attend. Projects to finish. More boring lectures to heavily caffeinate before so I don’t fall asleep.”
Matt chuckled, the sound warm and comforting to your nerves. He was always so comforting to you, though, you thought. And he never even realized it.
“It might be awhile before it sinks in, but you certainly don’t have all of that to worry about anymore,” he assured you.
“No,” Foggy cut in. “Now we just have to worry about getting jobs and paying bills.”
“Speaking of,” Matt began, his head tilting to the side as he focused in on you, “did you hear back from that company yet?”
Shaking your head a little solemnly, you replied with a soft, “No.”
“Ahh, well,” he said, the smile never leaving his face, “I’m sure you’ll hear back later today with good news. You’re amazing and they’d be morons not to hire you.”
“If only I could put that on my resume,” you joked.
Someone hit your elbow as they barreled past you from behind. You winced, rubbing your arm as you shot them a glare at their back. Beside Matt, Foggy sent you a sympathetic look.
“Why don’t we get out of this post-ceremony chaos?” he suggested. “Before the next one starts?”
Your eyes darted around, taking in the neverending streams of people. There was a sea of powder blue almost everywhere you looked.
“Yeah, I think that’s a great idea,” you agreed.
Matt quickly shifted his diploma cover to his hand, extending the arm he wasn’t hanging on to Foggy with out towards you. Your eyes dropped down to it, your brows drawing together in confusion.
“Here, you want to hold on to me?” Matt asked, his arm still offered towards you. “I don’t want to lose you out here. I know I can’t actually see the chaos ensuing, but I can certainly hear it. Sounds pretty bad.”
Switching your own diploma to the other hand, you reached out and looped your arm through Matt’s. He drew you in close to his side immediately after, taking you by surprise when your hip bumped up against his thigh under his graduation gown. Foggy peering around Matt completely cut off whatever reaction your body was about to have to that contact instantly.
“Hey, you want to come with us to grab lunch?” Foggy asked. “My family wanted to celebrate last minute and I know yours couldn’t be here today. You want to join us?”
The three of you began walking, Foggy and you navigating the group of you around the masses of people as Matt fell in step between you both. Your hip kept brushing up against Matt’s thigh though and it was taking every ounce of your focus to ignore it as you walked.
“Oh, lunch?” you asked, hip yet again bumping Matt’s solid thigh. 
“You’d make me feel less like the weird, adopted child,” Matt joked.
You laughed lightly, turning your body just at the last moment towards Matt to avoid bumping into a couple walking past you. You felt his arm tense around yours as your chest briefly pressed against him before you swiftly pulled back away. 
“I uh, I can’t,” you answered quickly, trying to ignore whatever weirdness you’d just caused. “I haven’t finished packing up my dorm fully. Sort of wanted to get it done before dinner tonight.”
Foggy peered around Matt again, catching your eye. “You’re still coming over to celebrate tonight at least, right?” he asked. “Because I’ll be mad at you if you don’t.”
You scoffed loudly, rolling your eyes. “Are you kidding me, Nelson? Of course I’m coming over to celebrate our last night in our dorms. Why the hell would I miss that?” you asked.
“Just making sure,” he said.
The three of you finally made it away from the ceremony location, coming to a stop just before one of the main paths on campus. People were still milling about, but it was at least vastly less populated here. You slipped your arm out from underneath Matt’s, his head snapping towards you at the loss of contact.
“This is where we part ways for now then, boys,” you said. “Enjoy your lunch and I’ll see you both later. I’ve got some packing to finish.”
“You’re missing out!” Foggy called after you.
You turned, heading the familiar path back to your residence hall, your heels clicking along the sidewalk as you went. 
“Don’t I know it,” you muttered to yourself, your mind already wandering back to Matt.
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Legs crossed on the end of Matt’s bed, you were staring at Foggy across the room. He was passed out, lying half upright against the headboard of his own bed, his mouth hanging open as he snored lightly. The empty pizza box of the pizza the three of you had devoured a bit ago sat open on the end of his mattress.
“Told you he’d be the first to pass out,” Matt said behind you.
You rolled your eyes at his comment, your head turning back towards him. He was leaning against his headboard, one leg crossed over the other in his dark sweatpants. His arms were behind his head, a smile on his mouth. He looked the picture of relaxed as he lay there, his eyes fixed near you on the end of his bed. It never ceased to amaze you how unfairly attractive he was at all times.
“Foggy always passes out first,” you pointed out. “Not really anything new there, Murdock.”
He laughed lightly, nodding his head. “You have a point,” he agreed. “Suppose it wouldn’t be our last night here if it didn’t involve Foggy passing out early after a handful of beers.”
A heaviness hit you in the chest at Matt’s words, your eyes dropping down to your lap. Your fingers played with the hem of your jeans, a soft sigh leaving you. Matt’s foot gently nudged your knee, drawing your attention back up to his face. His dark brows were drawn together, a deep crease forming on his forehead. His head tilted to the side as he studied you with a slight frown.
“What’s up?” he asked. “Thought you’d be more excited. We just graduated. You got the job you wanted–which I mean, I already knew you would. But this is supposed to be a good night. Why the sullenness?”
Because I also won’t have nights like these ever again.
“I am excited,” you admitted slowly. “But I mean it’s–it’s a little bittersweet, isn't it? Hanging out with you and Foggy was my routine for a couple of years now. Coming over here and studying with you guys. Or just drinking and hanging out and ordering incredibly strange combinations of takeout.”
Matt broke into a laugh, the bright sound cutting you off. “Certainly some strange combinations. Foggy is a genius when it comes to ordering the right food when you’re drunk though,” he mused.
“Yeah, he is,” you agreed, a sad smile on your lips. “And that was our thing for years. But now?” You shrugged lightly. “I won't be able to just walk to the residence hall beside mine and hop on an elevator to reach your guys' place. There's no more sitting around eating pizza and drinking beer late at night after tonight.” You felt your eyes welling up with tears and you immediately focused back on your fidgeting hands. “Now we’re getting apartments and jobs. Becoming adults. Needing sleep because we work."
And I’m losing you.
Your heart twisted in your chest at the thought. Sure, you weren’t leaving New York City and neither were they–hell, you were all moving into Hell’s Kitchen. But how long before your lives went in separate directions? Before they settled down and became successful lawyers who ran in entirely different circles than you? When would your friendship suddenly fall away?
“Hey,” Matt said softly.
The tone of his voice caught your attention and you looked back up at him. You watched him scoot over on the bed, his left hand coming down and patting the space beside him. Your lip slipped between your teeth as you nervously chewed it.
“Come sit with me?” he asked.
Unable to ever refuse Matt, you uncrossed your legs and made your way gradually over to the top of his bed. Sitting down beside him, you leant your back against his headboard and settled in next to him. It took you by surprise when Matt easily slipped his left arm around your shoulders and drew you further into his side until your head inevitably rested along his shoulder. Your hands awkwardly clasped together in your lap, feeling unsure what to do with them. Matt had never really been this forthright with you before. 
“It is a little bittersweet,” he agreed gently. “You and Foggy have become like the family I never really had while I’ve been here. And you–you both mean a lot to me.” 
He blew out a breath slowly, your head falling with the movement of his shoulder. You noticed he smelled really good, as if he’d put on a faint bit of cologne today. Something you never really noticed him doing before. Your head turned just a bit in towards his neck as you tried to breathe in the scent of him a little more, committing it to memory.
“Things are changing, sure,” he continued, “but I still plan to be here as long as you are. I don’t think anything can separate the three of us.”
“You say that now,” you mumbled. “But you don’t know how the next few years are going to go.”
His arm lightly shook you, your name falling from his lips so softly. The sound of it drew the corners of your mouth up ever so slightly.
“You are one of my absolute best friends,” Matt admitted. “And as long as you want my dumb ass as your friend, I’ll always be here.”
You snorted in amusement, shaking your head against his shoulder and ignoring that dull ache that always hit you when Matt called you his friend. 
“You’re the furthest thing from being a dumbass,” you said. “Especially with your fancy new law degree now.”
He chuckled, the sound a pleasant, deep rumble in your ears. You smiled, eyes dropping closed as you leaned further into him. You wanted to memorize every detail of this moment with him, to commit it to memory in your mind forever, because you were certain you’d never have another moment like this again with Matt. Not after college. He'd certainly be bombarded with beautiful women left and right, especially as a successful lawyer. Eventually he’d find someone and settle down with them. And you would slowly fade from his life no matter what he said. 
Your eyes tightened a little harder, fighting back the threat of tears at that thought. You didn’t want to think about the day Matt was no longer a part of your life.
"We can still get together on the weekends," Matt told you. "Maybe Saturday nights? We can make it a thing, even."
"Fog said you guys were going to be insanely busy at that internship," you pointed out, fighting to keep your voice from cracking. "Working weekends even."
Matt shrugged in response, your head rising and falling with the movement yet again. You felt his hand begin to gently rub along your arm, the gesture confusing as much as it was comforting you. Matt had never touched you like this before, had never wanted you close to him like this. He must have been experiencing that same bittersweet nostalgic feeling you were with knowing both your lives were about to change drastically. 
"We'll figure it out," he promised you. "We're bound to take breaks at some point, right? We'll make it work. I'm not losing you."
Your hands balled into fists in your lap, your jaw tightening at what he’d said. Those last four words hung heavy in the air between the pair of you. The desire to suddenly spill forth your feelings to Matt was almost unbearable. Whether it was from the excitement of the day, the three beers you’d had tonight, the nervous fear of how things were about to change, or the way Matt’s hand was still soothingly gliding back and forth along your arm, you somehow found yourself wanting to tell him how you felt. You desperately wanted him to know how much you’d loved him for years. 
Your fingernails dug into your palms from where your hands were still balled up. The thought of having that weight lifted from your shoulders was so tempting. You just wanted to stop hiding it from him, to stop holding yourself back. You just wanted to say it, just once.
But you knew you couldn't ultimately say anything at all. Matt had said it himself multiple times tonight already–you were his friend. Like family to him. He wouldn’t want to hear you express your love for him in any way that wasn’t strictly familial and platonic.
“I wish my dad had been here today,” Matt whispered.
With a shaky exhale, your eyelids flew back open and you pushed your previous thoughts aside–as you'd done many times before. You focused on Matt instead. Shifting your head along his shoulder, you looked up at him beside you. His lips were pulled into a deep frown, the sorrow written plain as day in his eyes as he stared blankly across the room. The sight had your heart squeezing in your chest exactly like it had done that day you’d seen him after Elektra had smashed his heart.
You knew how much he loved his father and how much he missed him. He’d had a very deep conversation with you one night, a little over a year ago, spilling his heart to you about his father's death. He’d told you how it had affected him. He’d even confessed that he hadn’t ever told Foggy all of that before, that he’d only ever told you. And you had felt honored he would even open up that much to you, expressing such deep, personal feelings. Especially because Matt didn’t let people in easily.
“He was here in his own way today,” you assured him. “And he’d be proud of you, Matt. You graduated at the top of your class. From an Ivy League law school.”
"I just wish I could tell him," he whispered. "Hear what he'd say to me."
Hesitantly you tested his boundaries, lifting your arm and carefully wrapping it around his waist. When he didn't protest, you gently squeezed him in a hug, drawing yourself closer.
"He'd say you're still his smarty pants son, I'm sure," you answered.
A small, almost sad laugh fell out of Matt, his other hand coming up to cover yours. A warmth gradually felt like it filled you as Matt’s thumb lightly stroked the backs of your knuckles. You had no idea what it meant that the pair of you were cuddled up on his bed together like this, but you were just going to let yourself enjoy it tonight. You didn’t want to ruin this moment with reality.
"I can't believe you remembered that I told you he called me that," he whispered. 
"I remember everything you tell me, Matty," you replied. “Especially the important things.”
There was a moment of silence before both of Matt’s hands stopped their absent, almost affectionate movements against your arm and your hand. You frowned, wondering if he’d finally decided the pair of you had crossed some boundary too far out of friendship, especially with what you’d just said. But then his hand released yours, landing gently and almost hesitantly on your neck. You swallowed hard when his fingertips took a slow glide up the length of your throat until his palm could cup your cheek. Carefully he pulled you away from his shoulder, angling your face up towards his as he whispered your name. 
He was looking down at you with his brows slightly drawn together, something unexplainable hidden in his eyes. You couldn’t quite make sense of what it was, your own eyes narrowing back at him as they jumped back and forth between his. His face was so close to yours though, you quickly realized. The warm exhalations of his breath from his slightly parted lips falling against your own mouth each time.
Was he going to kiss you? Surely not…
“You are…absolutely amazing,” he whispered. “And I–I–”
Your heart sped up in your chest, that almost fight or flight reaction abruptly coursing through you. You were almost afraid as you sat there gazing back at Matt, terrified you were steadily letting yourself get your hopes up for something that wasn’t going to happen. You could feel it happening already, that desperate yearning for more only rapidly increasing your panic.
Matt’s gaze shifted from yours, darting across the room towards Foggy for a moment as he winced. His eyes closed briefly before he turned his focus back on you, his sightless eyes falling along your left cheekbone. He winced again–the action incredibly minute this time–before he spoke.
“And I don’t ever want to lose you as my friend,” he finished. “And I just–just want you to know that.”
Your heart sank to the floor at his words. You knew they were coming, you knew it, yet they still managed to hurt. That panicked feeling inside of you quickly dissipated, your body quickly trying to become numb to this moment. Of course he wasn’t about to kiss you and confess his feelings to you. How unrealistic would that have been.
But you realized he was still staring back at you, an expression on his face that further confused you as he clearly waited for you to respond. Pulling away from him, the moment entirely soured to you now, you forced a smile onto your face as his hand fell from your cheek.
“I uh, I don’t want to lose your friendship either, Matt,” you said, forcing to keep your voice even. “But it’s–it’s late. Maybe I should let you get some sleep. We’ve both got a big move tomorrow.”
“Right, yeah,” he said softly, nodding.
You slid away from Matt, making your way to the edge of the bed before climbing off of it. Awkwardly you turned back around towards him, your eyes taking in the sight of him on his dorm room bed for what would be the last time ever. A flood of emotions struck you all at once like a punch to the gut, the weight of this being the end of an era really hitting you in this moment. Things were changing.
“Don’t be a stranger, Matty,” you whispered.
He shot you a tense, sad smile. “I won’t,” he promised.
You spun on your heel, crossing your arms across your chest tight as you made your way out of their dorm room for the last time. It wasn’t until you’d finally made it back to your own building that the tears began to fall. 
Maybe, you thought, it was time for you to let Matt just be your friend. Maybe now it was time to crush that ridiculous lingering hope you’d had for there to ever be something more between you two once and for all.
Maybe you needed to move on.
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devils-dares · 2 years
Note
matty, his wife, foggy and karen playing pool and foggy just complaining at how lovey lovey the reader and matt are being ng because they're just cuddling and she's wrapping his arms around him and kissing him hahah
thanks for your request!
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“Is it truly fair to have teams if one of us is… enhanced?” Foggy complains as you laugh, Matt wrapping his arms around you as the two of you win again.
“You’re the one who came up with it in the first place, losers break.” You say, reracking for another round. As Foggy lines up to break, Matt sneaks his arms around you, his chest pressed to your back.
“Hi, lover.” He says, pressing kisses to your jaw.
“Mm, hi.” Laughing, you cover his hands with yours, his lips curving into a smile against your skin. Turning your head, you capture his lips with yours, humming against him.
“So, uh, when are they going to realize that it’s their turn?” Karen says.
“When I’m done kissing my wife.” Matt says, breaking away from you. Shaking your head and smiling, you pick up your pool stick and sink a stripes ball, continuing your turn as you sink another and then miss the third. Handing your pool stick to Karen, you melt back into Matt, the two of you newlyweds not seeming to get enough of each other. His chin ends up resting on the top of your head, the both of you swaying to the music spilling out of Josie’s speakers.
“Matt’s turn.” Karen says.
“Alright, how about I end this all right here and we can start one more round?” Matt says, and Foggy immediately gets up from his seat.
“Nuh uh, you only get a max of two. Make two and your turn is over or else it’s not fair.” That makes a laugh leave you and Karen.
“That seems unfair.”
“You’re… you- it’s totally fair!” Foggy tries to reason and you step in, a hand on your husband’s shoulder.
“I think that’s fair, don’t you, Matty?” You ask.
“Y-yeah, totally fair. Only two, got it.” He stutters through his words.
“Oh come on! All she needed was to put a hand on you?”
“She’s my wife. She just has to tell me.” He says as he lines up for his shot. He sinks two, to no one’s surprise, and surrenders his turn to Foggy. Before he could get his hands on you again, a thud followed by “shit!” makes you look back as Matt snickers.
“Missed it.” Foggy says in a sad voice. You shake your head, grinning at his faux frown.
“Alright angel, we’ve got four to sink.” Matt encourages you as you take aim.
Foggy and Karen watch in horror as you sink one, two, three stripes balls, leaving the 8 ball and you with a wide open shot.
“C’mon bug, you’ve got it.” He puts his hands on your hips, causing you to gasp.
“Just shift your weight a little to the left, there you go!” Foggy is quick to interrupt the moment.
“No coaching, Murdocks!” Matt splits from you and kisses you on your cheek for good luck. You bend back over and take a breath, taking the shot. The 8 ball sinks in clear and Matt cheers.
“That’s it, the Murdocks aren’t allowed on a team together anymore.”
“Don’t hate on us, Fog.” You say, Matt squeezing you tight in a hug as you turn to kiss him, Karen and Foggy’s groans fading in the background as you smile into his lips.
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Text
Why You Gotta Tempt My Trouble?
Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 1
Series Masterlist           Next Chapter
pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 
summary: In college, Matt Murdock had two best friends, Foggy Nelson and you. However, life had no intention of letting you graduate with him. When he reconnects with you in adulthood, he is troubled to see the hand God has dealt you and vows to use every tool at his disposal to save you from damnation.
warnings: swearing, sickly sweet fluff, get ready for some pining y'all.
a/n: Here's the first chapter of the college fic! The next one won't be posted until I've written a few more (which might be a while because I'm trying to make them longer and I'm only one chapter ahead at the moment.) Please let me know if you like it and want to see more or be added to the taglist! Words of Affirmation is my shit and life is really tearing me down right now. Also huge thank you to @firefly-graphics for the beautiful divider!
w/c: 5.3k
Digging the heels of your hands into your eyes, you resisted the urge to bang your head on the counter you sat at in an attempt to reboot the organ. This passage made no damn sense and you had mere days to understand it and conform to its ideals in order to do well in the class that it was assigned to. Biting your lip, you flipped back a few pages to start the chapter over for the third time when the sound of someone clearing their throat nearly startled you out of your seat. 
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, I didn’t see you!” Saving your place in the worn book, you looked up to find a young man standing before you. He was handsome, with fluffy, inky locks and a charming smile on his lips. 
“That’s alright, I, uh, can’t quite fault you there.” He smiled sideways at you, gesturing to the opaque rectangular frames on his nose. Your mouth formed an “O” shape before you tripped over your response. 
“I want to laugh but that feels wrong. Is it more rude to laugh or not laugh? Oh god, forget I said that, I—“ 
The boy in front of you chuckled. “It’s quite alright, and it was meant to be a joke.” 
“Right, well, sorry again. How can I help you?” You clasped your hands, tilting your head as you waited for his response. 
“I was wondering if you had braille copies of any of these textbooks?” As he posed the question, the handsome boy passed you a list of the textbooks he was looking for. 
Looking over the document, you pursed your lips. “That is a fantastic question that we will have to answer together. I wish I knew off the top of my head, but today's only my third day on the job.” You cringed, wishing your manager was here. 
“I imagine it’s not a common question, so I won’t hold it against you.” There was that charming smile again. Your insides felt like they were slowly melting under his grin. 
“That’s, um, very kind of you.” You stammered out, feeling heat flood your cheeks. 
“Matt.” He broke in. “Matt Murdock. And you are..?”
Offering your name, you dutifully turned back to the index, scanning the pages for any clue as to where braille copies would be stocked. 
“That’s a pretty name, it suits you.” Your fingers halted in their dance across the page, your eyes flitting back to the gorgeous customer. 
“As much as I appreciate that, turning up the charm won’t change the fact that it might take a minute for me to find these.” Your eyes narrowed as you became skeptical of his intentions. 
“Take your time. It’ll give me more time to get to know you.” The flirty grin never faltered on Matt’s face. 
“Oh you’re trouble.” You shook your head, thumbing through the pages of the file before you. “I’m starting to think I should search on my own.” 
Matt just laughed, leaning forward on his white cane and grinning at you. “Where should we start?”
“I have a couple ideas.” 
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You and Matt searched far and wide for accessible copies of the textbooks he needed. While they—thankfully—did exist, they were scattered throughout the store haphazardly, not in either location the index had suggested. The lack of care and attention the volumes had gotten was making you progressively more irritated. There was absolutely no reason these books should’ve been treated with such disrespect, even if they weren’t commonly asked for. 
After finding all but one book on his list, it was barely past store closing. Locking the door with a huff, you clocked out before joining Matt where he was seated on the ground by the first shelf. 
“I hate to say this, but I think we might need to order you a new copy.” You remarked with a frown, scuffing your shoe along the faded carpet on the bookstore’s floor. 
Matt, whose pleasant personality hadn’t dimmed despite the lackluster findings, simply chuckled, knocking his shoulder into yours. 
“Well, we gave it the old college try, so to speak.” He waggled his eyebrows at you above his dark glasses. 
You groaned, but couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped your throat. Despite your intense introversion and social awkwardness, Matt put you at ease. 
“Sorry, my roommate is rubbing off on me.” He gave an exaggerated grimace. 
“Is he a law student too?” 
“Yep. Foggy Nelson. The three of us might actually have some classes together.” Matt’s face lit up with the idea. You’d confessed during your hunt that you had already purchased your own copies of many of the books on his list. Given that you were both first year law students, it made sense that you’d be in classes with one another, but you felt a weight lift off your chest nonetheless.
“Honestly, that makes me feel so much better. I’m incredibly nervous.” You confessed, focusing on a fraying patch of carpet underneath your sneaker. 
“I’m sure you’ll do great.” Matt leaned against you, focusing on you in a way that made your chest flutter. 
“See you say that not knowing how long it’s taking me to get through the first reading assignment for Legal Methods.” You dropped your head into your hands, remembering the cursed passage from earlier. 
“Foggy mentioned something about that book. It’s…outdated?” 
“That’s an understatement. The first chapter is about a famous eugenics case, Buck v Bell, and I might be reading it wrong but it seems like the author is suggesting that we don’t have ableism that resembles that of the case in current day? I was getting so frustrated reading it that I honestly couldn’t tell if it was confusing or just a stupid argument.” You explained. 
“It’s in the McKinnon book, right? If you want, we could read it together and try to figure it out? Unless you have somewhere else to get to…” Matt Murdock, the charming, unswayable man you’d met a few hours ago blushed at the question, making you grin. 
“I would love to hear your opinion on the text, Mr. Murdock. We can start an unofficial study group.” 
“I like the sound of that. Let’s crack open this shit show.” Matt let you pull him off the ground and over to your work station where he opened his own copy of the text and began to read. 
A few hours and more than a few boxes of takeout later, you and Matt were still working your way through the chapter, though you’d both decided with certainty that the text was more angering than confusing. 
“If the professor is as ableist as this author, I’ll never be able to pass this class.” You grumbled, shoving the hellish book away from you. “There’s no way I can pretend that eugenic ideals have disappeared, even for a better grade.”
“Seriously. I’m hoping it’s supposed to make us mad so we can argue about it? Though I seriously doubt everyone will be on our side, unfortunately.” Matt scowled. 
“Well, at least we have each other, right?” The man in front of you perked up with that comment, but you hurriedly corrected yourself. “And your roommate, of course.” 
Deflating slightly, Matt scratched the back of his neck. “Speaking of, I should probably get back so he doesn’t send out a search party. I’ll see you in class?” 
“See you then, trouble maker.” You murmured, smiling softly at him. 
“Have a good night, sweetheart. Get home safe.” 
“You too.” 
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A few days later, your evening with the sweet law student had fallen to the back of your mind as nerves about your first semester of classes set in. Fidgeting with your outfit in the mirror, you inhaled a shaky breath. 
“Stop worrying, you’ll be fine!” The voice of your roommate, Jen, rang out across your shared loft making your brow furrow. 
“Easy for you to say! You’ve done this before.” You groused, still examining your reflection. Jen was an old friend of yours who had lived down the street from you growing up. The two of you had been practically inseparable since elementary school, despite the fact that she was two years older than you. 
“Jen’s right, you know.” Oscar, Jen’s long-term boyfriend and your unofficial second roommate, squeezed your shoulder on his way to the kitchen. “Everyone is going to be nervous, so they won’t have time to judge you.” 
“Yah, yah. I appreciate the votes of confidence but, unfortunately, my anxiety and I have to hit the road. I would rather not be late.” 
“Have fun!” Oscar called as you grabbed your bag.
“You’re gonna kill it!” Shouted Jen as you exited the apartment. 
You shook your head, hoping they were right, and set off for your first ever Columbia Law class. 
The trek across campus was pretty and the walk helped you calm your racing thoughts. The walkways were littered with other first year students who looked more clueless than you—including a blond boy with a kind face who was staring quizzically at a kiosk in front of him that was plastered with event flyers. 
He muttered to himself for a moment before reaching to the side of the kiosk obscured from your view and tugging on the arm of someone beside him. “Ok dude, according to this map we should be heading…” He paused, squinting at the paper he was reading before dramatically pointing left. “West!” 
“That’s East.” You chuckled, walking over to inspect the map for yourself. As you neared the misguided fellow, your eyes widened as you recognized his friend. “Matt?” 
Laughing brightly and greeting you, Matt tugged free of the other man’s grip and strode over to you. “Are you following me?” He narrowed his eyes at you but his tone remained playful. 
Shoving him, you scoffed. “You wish, Murdock. I was going to warn your friend here that the upperclassmen usually put up fake maps as a prank on the first day of classes.” 
“Thank god we have someone to warn us of their cruelty, or we’d be dead meat!” The blond spun around and bowed in front of you. “Franklin Nelson, at your service m’lady. You can call me Foggy” 
You giggled, introducing yourself. “It’s such a shitty prank. Thankfully, I have roommates who are in their third year and they showed me around weeks ago. Where are you headed?” 
“Greene Hall.” Matt informed you. 
“Oh, that’s where I’m headed too! Civil Procedure? With Professor McGuiness?”
“The very same! We’re damn lucky to have run into you.” Foggy sighed, shaking his head. 
“It’s this way, and we aren’t too far. We’ll probably get there early.” 
“That’s good because this one,” Foggy stuck a thumb at Matt, “Has this idea that we need to sit in the front if we don’t want to fail. I’d be perfectly fine sitting in the last row and never being called on once!” 
“Studies show that sitting in one of the first few rows increases retention!” Matt elbowed his roommate who just snorted. 
“Retention schmention. I say we sit by the cutest people in the class and have them tutor us when we inevitably fail.” Foggy winked at you and you laughed. 
Matt squeezed your arm, leaning closer to you. “I think that can be arranged regardless.” 
Heat rose in your cheeks as his flirtatious grin made a reappearance. “Oh shut up, trouble maker, or I’ll sit in the very last row just to spite you.” 
“We wouldn’t want that.” Matt held out an arm, “Mind walking me to class, sweetheart?”
Rolling your eyes, you turned to Foggy. “How do you put up with him? You’re a Saint, truly.” But you took Matt’s arm anyway, ensuring that you were keeping a steady pace and avoiding anything he might trip over. 
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The walk to your first law class was, eventful, to say the least. Matt and Foggy were clearly soulmates of a sort, with their nonstop bantering and the way they balanced each other out. Foggy was a ray of sunshine, while Matt was more comfortable in the shadows, so to speak. The blond was all loud declarations and bright smiles, while Matt was more low toned flirting and quiet observations. They were both incredibly intelligent, overly sarcastic, and had a flair for the dramatic. You were ecstatic to have stumbled into their lives. 
Matt had successfully cajoled the both of you into sitting with him in the second row, a compromise which Foggy considered a huge win. As students filed in, you subconsciously fiddled with your shirt, suddenly feeling incredibly insecure about your presence in this classroom. A gentle hand grabbed your wrist, making you jump. 
“Relax,” Matt whispered. “You look fine, trust me.” 
“How do you know?” You murmured nervously. 
“Those boys a few rows behind us are staring.” Matt’s smile remained, but his voice held a tension you couldn’t quite place. “And the TA is trying very hard not to.” 
“How on earth can you tell that?” You raised an eyebrow at him, incredulous. 
“Matt is seriously like some sort of super powered being. He has the greatest intuition of anyone I’ve ever met. Best to trust him about these things.” Foggy nodded solemnly, clearly trying not to burst out laughing. 
You simply rolled your eyes, pulling your notebook from your bag. Opening it to the correct page, you stifled a giggle as Foggy leaned over Matt’s lap to whisper-yell at you. 
“Why do you already have notes written? Matt, why does she already have notes written?” 
“I like to come prepared. I took notes on the first few chapters of the book.”
“But we didn’t even have an assignment for this class!”
“Yah, but I was bored at work and I thought I’d get a head start.” You just shrugged but Foggy glared at you, shaking a finger in your face. 
“You’re gonna make the rest of us look like slackers! You, missy, have some apologizing to do.” 
“For doing my due diligence?” You laughed. 
“Yes! For being too proactive. I think you owe us a tutoring session or two.” Foggy crossed his arms with a huff. 
“You have no idea if I even know what I’m doing, these notes could be gibberish!” You chuckled, shaking your head. 
“Nope, it’s good material. I can tell. You owe us. Doesn’t she, Matt?” Foggy elbowed his roommate who smirked. 
“I think he might be right, sweetheart. What would you say to being the leader of our study group.” Matt tilted his head, focusing on you. 
“Do I have a choice?” You sighed. 
“No!” Foggy exclaimed at the same time Matt responded, “Not really.”
“Then I accept, but I want my objection noted.” 
“It’s all in the record, don’t worry.” Foggy waved a hand, turning his attention back to the front of the room as the Professor walked to the front. 
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The rest of the week went similarly, as you had three of four classes at the same time as Matt and Foggy. They made great company, so you could hardly complain, but it was the first meeting of your “unofficial official study group” (as Foggy had dubbed it) and you were quite nervous. 
You were fairly confident that you knew what you were talking about, but the idea of being the backbone for two other grades besides your own was quite stressful. Not to mention the jittery feeling you got every time your brain reminded you that you’d been in Matt’s room with him for an extended period of time. You chided yourself, Matt—though he was incredibly flirty—was one of the best friends you’d ever had, and you’d be damned before you jeopardized that because you were touch-starved and more than a little thirsty. 
Taking a deep breath to keep your antsy libido in check, which was getting increasingly difficult given the fact that you were sitting atop Matt’s bed practically cuddled against him, you turned your focus to the space in front of you for a moment of redirection. 
The room was small, a standard dorm room with two long skinny bed frames that held stiff foam mattresses, two identical desks with chipped paint and lumpy rolling chairs, and a bolted-shut window. Although the room was dim and cramped, the view was gorgeous, overlooking a rectangular patch of grass framed with lush green trees and the distant Manhattan skyline, bright with yellow lights against the black of the atmosphere.  
Shifting your focus to the inside of the room, you smiled at the dichotomy on full display. While it was clear both boys had cleaned in preparation for your visit, Foggy’s side of the room was haphazardly straightened, with loose socks peeking out from underneath the bed and a handful of stray candy wrappers still visible atop his desk. Matt’s half of the space was meticulously organized, complete with braille labels. It was clear that everything had its place. 
A shoulder nudged yours and you choked on a breath in your haste to turn towards the presence beside you. Matt smirked, but a small crease was present between his brows. “You ok? You stopped reading…”
“Yup!” You squeaked, clearing your throat and trying again. “Yes, sorry. Got distracted by your view.” Which was mostly true... 
“Is it nice? Foggy’s never told me.” Matt grins sideways at you, furrow on his smooth skin fading. 
“It’s…stunning. There’s a lot of green up front, with the lawn and plants and whatnot, but the red brick buildings contrast beautifully. And behind campus you can see the rest of the city, like we’re in an urban valley almost. It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen.” 
“It sounds pretty. You should describe more sights for me, sweetheart. You’re good at it.” 
Heat ran up your face at the compliment, pulsing in your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Turning from the window, you found your chest settling calmly as you studied Matt’s face. You’d never been this close to him and it was startling how easily his innocuous expression stirred up emotions in you. 
He had the slightest shadow of stubble gracing his sharp jawline. As you ran your eyes along his face, you found yourself lingering on the beautiful hazel eyes, nearly blocked by his dark glasses. The blank, honey-bronze orbs held more emotion than you’d ever seen in someone’s expression. In the small time you’d known Matt, you found yourself constantly moved by his passion—for his city, for justice, for Foggy, even for you. 
“So can we get back to the precedent of Buck v. Bell or are you just gonna stare lovingly at Matt all night?” Foggy smiled sweetly at you but the glint in his eyes made it clear he was annoyed. 
“I wasn’t—I mean I—“ You sputtered, scootching farther away from Matt in an effort to conceal your obvious crush. 
“Whatever. It’s late and I’d like to finish soon. Precedent?” Foggy prompted, pointing to his textbook. 
“Well, the main point is that disabled and institutionalized individuals were no longer considered to have the same rights as other people.” Matt huffed, thumbing through his textured pages. 
“Right. And the opinion implies that losing rights through due process opens you up to losing rights in the future without another trial.” You added, squinting at a particular paragraph for clarity. 
“Which sucks, but checks out for 1927.” Foggy frowned. 
“If I’m interpreting the important parts correctly, this case is meant to highlight an important consequence of precedent, which is that one decision can impact the judicial system for decades, even over important things like due process.” You explained, turning to Matt. “Is that what you got from this?”
“That’s about what I interpreted, yah.” Matt nodded, giving Foggy a sly grin. “That enough of an explanation for ya, Nelson? Or do we need to break it down point by point.” 
“Shut up, Murdock.” Foggy grumbled. “I’d be better with this if I wasn’t dog-tired.” 
“You’re doing great, Foggy. Don’t listen to him. All we have left to do this week is read for Torts and then we are home free.” You smiled sympathetically. 
“Ugh!” Foggy flopped down onto his pillows, covering his face with his hands. 
“Not to be a pain, but I don’t have this text…” Matt shifted uncomfortably, biting his lip. 
“That’s alright, I can read mine aloud. If that’s ok with you, Foggy?” You looked to the half-asleep law student for confirmation who nodded tiredly. 
“If it allows me to close my eyes, I’d be more than happy to listen.” 
Matt chuckled, before tilting his head towards you. “Can I come closer? To make sure I don’t miss anything?” You could’ve sworn you saw Foggy roll his eyes, but you blinked and he remained still as a corpse against his pillows. 
“Of course, Matt. Here.” Shuffling closer to him, you lay the textbook across both of your laps, trying incredibly hard to not focus on how warm he was. “This ok?” 
Matt nodded, mouth parted slightly and your eyes followed his tongue as it darted out to wet his lips. For a moment, all you heard was static and the soft puffs of Matt’s breath. Coming back into your body, you shook your head to clear out the lovestruck cobwebs. 
“Ok, um, Introduction to American Civil Law: Chapter 1, Liability and Negligence…”
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To tell the honest truth, Matt hadn’t taken in a word you’d spoken since you passed the introductory paragraph. Legal jargon washed over him like the water of a warm bath, spoken by a soothing dulcet voice and punctuated by the steady thump of your kind heart. Your thigh was resting against his and he could feel the tension in your neck as you desperately kept it mere inches from its desired landing place on his shoulder. Your soft t-shirt brushed over his arm with each expanse of your chest as you inhaled, rubbing more of your sweet lavender and vanilla scent over his skin. 
As you continued to be blissfully unaware of his lack of attention, or rather his abundance of attention, his body was fighting an internal battle to not sweep you into his arms and bury his face in your neck. 
Leaving St. Agnes had been a culture shock for the ages, but Matt was beginning to love it. The orphanage had been an overwhelmingly lonely place, which Matt attributed to his tendency to pick fights and his disability causing him to stand out. Meeting his new roommate had been nerve wracking, but Foggy was as easy to like as the first ray of sunshine in the spring, despite his grumpiness when he was exhausted. Sure he was messy and his snoring had kept Matt awake for hours, but he had a massive heart. Though he and Foggy had very different lifestyles, the other man fit perfectly into his life, as did you. Matt was more than aware of his tendency to form quick attachments, but his feelings toward you were an entirely different beast. 
The night he’d met you in the bookstore, an invitation to go on a date with him had been teetering on the edge of his tongue for hours. Flirting came naturally to him, one of the many reasons he didn’t get along with the other boys of Clinton Church, but given his less than standard childhood, he’d never had the opportunity to start a relationship. Every minute he spent with you made it more obvious that you deserved to be loved, not aimlessly thrown into a date or two, and Matt wasn’t sure he would be able to provide that. At least not now.
An ear-splitting snore sounded from the other side of the room, abruptly ending his daydream. Your arm left its place at his side as you stifled a laugh. “Guess I was more boring than I thought.” 
“Trust me, it’s not because of you. That man could fall asleep to the sound of a fire alarm if he tried hard enough.” Matt smirked, humor not quite reaching his eyes as his brain mourned the loss of your touch. Feeling you shift tensely next to him, he pondered for a moment. “If you’re worried about waking him, we could go somewhere else?”
“Where would we go at 2 in the morning on a Thursday?” You groaned, desperately aching to be done with school work for the week but simultaneously more than willing to spend all night with Matt. 
“I know a place. But we will probably want this blanket.” Matt grinned at you as your confusion peaked, but you threw the blanket over your shoulder and took his hand nonetheless. 
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How your friend had discovered that the roof of Butler Library remained accessible after hours via a secluded maintenance stairwell, you’d never know—but you couldn’t help but thank the heavens for granting you this slice of paradise. 
The cement that compromised the roof was cold, a symptom of being deprived of the sun for hours now, but you and Matt lay huddled together on his bedspread, lounging in a pocket of warmth your closeness had created. You were practically snuggling, which was not helping soothe the part of your brain that was rabidly attracted to him, sharing your highs and lows from the week. 
As the two of you giggled about an incident with a pigeon that had decided to attend Civil Procedure, you found your eyes tracing over the moonlit form of the beautiful man before you, who seemed to notice your staring as his lips quirked up. “So, tell me, sweetheart, how’s a girl like you end up in a place like this?” 
With an exaggerated groan, you shoved him playfully. “You and your damn lines, Murdock.” 
With a chuckle, Matt’s expression turned from something entirely playful into one of genuine interest.  “Seriously, what brought you to Columbia?” Feeling your heart pound under his blank gaze, you blew out a breath. 
“That is a long, sad story that I’m sure you don’t really—“
“If you don’t want to tell me, I totally get it. But I’d like to know more about you.” Matt’s answer was honest and lacking his perpetually flirty edge that kept you at a safe distance, which sent a burst of heat to your stomach that you weren’t expecting. 
“Oh, well...” Sighing deeply, you considered your options. You’d had a hard time making friends in the past, and had a tendency to over share (or so you’d been told), but Matt had asked for the real answer. That meant he really wanted it, right?
Steeling yourself for the impending rejection, you confessed. “I’m originally from Connecticut. Small little town called Bridgewater, about an hour from New Haven. It’s just me and my mom, really. My dad lives in godknowswhere, Virginia with my two siblings and his girlfriend. He’s…kinda the worst, so we don’t talk much. My mom though, she’s amazing. I owe everything to her.” 
Matt smiled at you, nodding encouragingly when you hesitated. 
“Um, yah, so long story short, she was diagnosed with cancer when I was a kid. My dad has sort of always been a jackass but her prognosis…I don’t know, it was the last straw for him. I don’t remember much but they started arguing about money and then, he took everything. I didn’t realize it at the time, my mom is the nicest person on the planet and she would never blame my dad for her misfortune, but we lost our house, she lost her job, her assets, two of her kids—though they didn’t fight to stay like I did. The longer I lived, the more curious I became about everything and when I did some digging in high school, I found out my dad had claimed everything in the divorce. He and his attorney had argued that my mom was abusive and financially exploiting him and the judge gave him anything he asked for. I decided I wanted to be a lawyer so I could stop others from going through what my mom and I have.” 
The story poured out of you, relieving a pressure you’d been carrying for as long as you remembered. Matt simply listened intently, emotions passing over his face in small flashes as you described your past. Realizing all of the bullshit you’d just dumped on him, you cringed. 
“I’m sorry, that was a lot, I just…” Matt’s brow furrowed and his hand shot out to cup your elbow. 
“No! No, I’m just so sorry that happened. Your dad sounds like a piece of work.” He gave a disgusted grimace and you giggled. 
“He is. My mom still loves him though, bless her heart. We spend Christmas with him every year like he didn’t ruin her life.” The laugh that you have held no humor. “Anyway, that’s my backstory. What about you, trouble maker?” You leaned into the loose hold Matt kept on your arm, eager to learn more about him. 
“Well, I’m from New York. Hell’s Kitchen, born and raised just like Foggy. I, uh, I never knew my mom. Was close with my dad, though. He was a boxer, taught me a lot about fighting, persistence.” Matt’s face fell slightly as he paused. Intertwining your fingers with his, your smile softened. 
“He sounds like a good man.” 
Matt nodded. “Yah, he uh, he was. He died when I was 9.”
Eyes widening, a hasty apology spilled out of you. “Oh Matt, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—“ A squeeze of your hand stopped you in your tracks. 
“It’s ok. I do miss him, though. After he died, I was taken in by an orphanage, raised by nuns. This is, really the first time I’ve lived without feeling like I’m being watched.” Matt chuckled awkwardly, removing his fingers from yours to push up his glasses. “Law interested me for a reason similar to yours, I suppose. My dad, uh, he was murdered. Organized crime hit. I tried to get someone, anyone really, to bring the group to justice and I…failed. Made me realize the justice system needs more devoted participants, I guess.” Taking his hand back into yours, you ran a thumb over his knuckles, allowing him to collect his thoughts before continuing the conversation. 
“So you’re interested in criminal law then?” Your heart flipped happily as Matt’s starlit face lit up again. 
“Honestly, I’m interested in most of it. But the more I learn about the world, the more I realize how important criminal defense is. My dad’s murder inspired this journey, but what I do with the degree, it’ll be in his memory. I’m starting to think that defense would be the best way to honor him.” 
How on Earth did you manage to find the sweetest boy on campus? “That’s…beautiful Matt. Really. He must be so proud of you already.” 
Matt’s lips twitched but he seemed unsure. “Maybe he should wait to see if I actually get this degree. Torts is already shaking up to be a nightmare.” 
“Ugh, that’s for damn sure.” You laughed breathily, shivering as a breeze pierced your thin shirt. 
Face twisting with concern, Matt ran his hand over your arm. “Are you cold? Sorry, I didn’t think it would get this chilly out.” 
“Oh, it’s ok! I’m not that cold.” You assured him, relishing in the soft brushes of his calloused fingertips over your arm. 
Raising a brow at you, Matt pulled off the crew neck he was wearing, handing it to you. “Humor me.” 
Rolling your eyes at his demanding tone, you slipped the garment over your head. The worn gray sweatshirt was soft and comfortably warm with Matt’s body heat. It was such a pleasant relief from the frigid cement that you had to bite back a groan. Breathing in the earthy, clean scent that always followed Matt, you sighed in relief. 
“Thank you.”
“Anytime, sweetheart.” Matt grinned. 
The night didn’t go on for too much longer after you spilled your guts to your new friend. At his insistence, you called Oscar and Jen to come pick you up rather than walking home. 
You fell asleep easily that night and, while it would be easy to blame the late hour, the fabric of Matt’s sweatshirt wrapped around you may have had something to do with it. 
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|| 29. Table Sex ||
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Gif: @briefcasejuice
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
Matt Murdock x female reader
Warnings: rough p in v.
Author's note: Foggy isn't really surprised. If you enjoy my writing I really appreciate comments and reblogs!
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"Matt- Matt! Stop, stop, it's gonna break!"
He'd been on you as soon as Foggy had bid you both a good night. As soon as he heard his footsteps fading down the stairs, you were slammed up against the door, his hands around your waist and his lips like a firebrand against your neck. He was feral, hungry for you since early in the day when he first picked up on your little game. He struggled to hold himself back until the day's end as you purposefully teased him, the scent of your arousal faint on your fingertips but strong enough to drive him crazy. That sweet ambrosia, the juice from the most tempting apple from the tree of (carnal) knowledge. He was the Lucifer to your Lilith.
He lifted you easily, hands grabbing and squeezing your perfect ass as you wrapped your legs around his waist, growling with impatience as he pressed his hips into yours letting you feel just how much you had riled him up.
He was attacking you with his mouth, wet and controlling kisses barely letting you breathe as he carried you, stumbling across the office until he reached his desk. He held you against it, hands fumbling and grasping, pushing up your skirt and ripping your damp underwear part way down your legs. He lifted you up onto the top of the desk and pulled them all the way off, roughly nudging your thighs apart as he undid his pants.
"Matt! What's got into you?!" You squealed as he roughly coated his cock in your slick then thrust inside with a deep rumbling groan of satisfaction. You moaned along with him as he gave you next to no time to get comfortable, thrusting hard and fast, fucking you into the desk making it creak.
"Oh, did you think I'd be gentle? With you teasing me like that all fucking day?" He rams into you, his cock hitting you so deep you have to stop yourself from screaming. "Think I'd have any self-control left with you getting back from 'lunch' and you've been touching yourself like that? Hmm?"
You tried your best to hold on to the desk but it wasn't easy given the pace he was going. The desk is rocking violently on its legs. "Yes I knew it'd drive you crazy, just maybe… not, this much- ahh!"
"This is what you wanted, isn't it? You've let the devil out sweetheart, and you know I won't stop until I get what I want…"
You yelp again as he drives into you, the friction of his pelvis against yours more than enough stimulation for you to start ramping you up to an orgasm. "Oh fuck Matty! I do know… but the desk- shit! We're gonna break the desk!"
"S'fine. Foggy fixed it after the last time. Mm, just focus on me baby, ain't gonna be long…"
Foggy held the edge of the desk, pushing it, watching it rock back and forth on its wobbly legs. "But how did it even get like this? These screws shouldn't be coming loose like that… what the heck are you doing to it-"
Matt stood with his hands out open at his sides, shrugging his shoulders. "Nothing!"
Foggy scrubbed his hand over his face. "Oh boy, nope! Nope, don't wanna know." He quickly tightened the screws up and shut himself in his own office for the rest of the day.
"Oh god, oh fuck! Matt please, it's gonna-!"
He was relentless, pounding into you, the wet smack of skin on skin bouncing off the office walls.
"It's not gonna break… fuck I'm so close- oh fuck yes sweetie, cum for me…"
You couldn't stop it even if you tried, gripped by your orgasm you felt like you were falling, briefly hearing a sharp crack that was drowned out by your loud moans. Then you realised you were on the floor, atop the broken remnants of the desk, its legs wrenched out from under the surface. Matt at least had enough forethought to brace your head and neck and hold you as you both fell, still grinding his hips as he empties himself into you with a long, low grunt.
He nuzzles into your neck as you start to laugh. "I told you! How the hell are you gonna explain this to Foggy?"
He hums, overwhelmed by the feel of you, smiling and kissing your cheek making you laugh even more. "Hm, gonna tell him it's shoddy workmanship. Need somethin' sturdier for next time."
"Next time? Next time you're gonna wait till we get home!"
"Aw," Matt whines, "where's the fun in that?"
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