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grippingbeskar · 2 years

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hands off | matt murdock

matt murdock x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI (mutual masturbation, mxf intercourse, dirty talk) swearing, established relationship

a/n: okay. OKAY! okay. be gentle with this one because it’s my first matt fic!!! also, i saw this video on tik tok about ppl doing this game thing, but idk who posted it first and i don’t have the videos, but that’s where the dies comes from. also this is literally just smut, don’t even look at me ITS BEEN A LONG WEEK. okay bye. literally posting this and running away to sleep bc i am afraid BYE.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Sooo? You like it?” You keep to your side of the couch as Matt brings the glass up to his mouth for a second time. He hums, swallowing and licking his lips, and you have to bite down on your own to control yourself.

Asshole.

“It’s…”

“What?”

“Sweet.” His voice rumbles. You think you should have tied yourself down or something, because there’s no way you can win this stupid bet if he was going to keep teasing you like this. He wasn’t even doing anything, really. Everything he did seemed to turn you on in some way or the other, especially now, as the alcohol starts to kick in, warmth spreading through your face, flowing all the way down.

It was your idea; this whole bet. You and Matt had been together for a while now, and the longer you spent with him you realised how much of a fucking tease he was. So, in your muddied brain, you decided two could play at that game, even though you were almost certain you would fail miserably. You were, however, planning on giving him a run for his money. Or your money, considering how you had both put two hundred dollars on the table for the winner.

The rules were simple. You drink an entire bottle of wine- your favourite brand, hence the taste testing Matt was currently being put through, and sit on opposite ends of the couch. The first one to break - to touch the other in any way, loses. You were notoriously… frisky, when you drank wine, and Matt thought the game was going to be innocent enough until you started popping more bottles.

“Good sweet or bad sweet?” You say, and he empties the glass, holding it out for you to pour him another.

“I’d give it a good 7 out of 10. I’ve tasted better.” He hears the exasperated gasp of shock, and smiles in a way that’s so classically Matthew that your heart skips a beat. He probably hears that too.

“This is the best thing I have ever had. What could possibly taste better than this?!” You pour him another glass that he downs half of quickly, eager to get to the good part.

“I can think of a few things.” Your breath hitches in your throat, and he smirks, taking another sip.

“That feels like cheating.” Your entire body ignites at the shift in mood, and you nearly shiver when his hand trails along the edge of the couch, moving dangerously close to your shoulder, then retreating back.

“Hey, you said no touching. Nothing in the rules about telling you how much I love your-“

“Okay! Okay. I get it. Finish your glass, cheater.” He downs the rest obediently, placing the glass gently on the table, right next to the stack of fifty dollar notes you had pooled. He was smirking - clearly thinking he was already ten moves ahead of you, but you had a couple tricks up your sleeve to win this thing. Well, one trick.

“So, how do you want to do this?”

“What do you mean?” You finish your glass and get rid of it, the empty wine bottles clanking together somewhere on the floor.

“Well, obviously you are going to lose, so do you want to just give up now, or do we have to play this whole little game first?” Typical. Complete confidence, right from the start.

“Listen, Murdock. One thing you’ll learn about me tonight, is that no matter how incredibly attractive you look right now, I am very competitive. Very. Competitive. Especially when it comes to money, because I am also very broke.” He laughs again, his head hanging back off the couch. “Besides, who says you won’t break first?”

“I’m pretty sure I can take you apart from right here.” His voice has dropped an octave. You recognise that tone in an instant. He only talks to you like that, all commanding and a little mocking; when he’s fucking you. Or about to fuck you. Your whole body reacts to him - you don’t even have a choice in the matter, it’s like a bell rings and you’re switched into that mode. All he needs to do is talk to you like that, and you want to get on your knees and forget all about this stupid bet and-

“Am I right? You think I can make you all sweet and desperate just talking to you?” Yes. He could. He knew it, because he’d done it before, but you weren’t ready to give him the satisfaction. Not when the game had barely started.

“Who says we’re just gonna talk?” You settle back, letting your legs stretch just this side of your half of the couch.

“Is that a threat, honey?” The endearment mixed with his slightly rough tone has you tightening every muscle in your body, and if you didn’t get a hold of yourself you might as well just shreds your money now.

“Just got a few ideas, that’s all.” You blink innocently, and he scoffs.

“I promise we’ll do all the things I know your pretty little head is thinking about right now. All you have to do is give in to it.” The way he’s sitting is so cocky; if he wasn’t so fucking sexy you think you’d slap him. Arms stretched out, one dangling over the back, the other strung lazily across his stomach, making a perfect line down to where his legs are spread as wide as possible. You don’t miss how easy it would be for you to slot yourself in to that spot, to be surrounded by him.

“Hmm. Tempting.” He shrugs, almost saying ‘I know.’ “Or, you could come over here.”

“Now why would I do that?” He asks, leaning forward. You start as slow as possible. This was really the only idea you had to get him to break. Maybe if you threatened it, alluded to it enough, he would forget all about the money and the bet and jump on you.

“Maybe I’ve got something to sweeten the deal.” You trail a slow fingertip up your leg, past your knee and creeping it along your thigh. The fabric of your skirt scrunches up as you get higher, and Matt’s head straightens when he hears it.

“What are you doing?” Still, his voice is that low, gravelly sound that sends shivers up your spine, and you bite your lip to stop a smile before answering him.

“You know how wine makes me.” He knew very, very well, being the object of all your wine-induced fantasies. “I’m all hot, and if you aren’t going to help me…”

“Don’t.” He practically growls, and you let out a breathy laugh as you use your other hand to pull up your skirt completely. He may not be able to see you - but he knows exactly what your doing and how your doing it. He can hear the way you’re moving, the skips in your heartbeat as your finger trails higher and higher. The smell of you, how it changes as you get closer to the wetness between your thighs. He knows. And he looks like he hates it.

Jaw set, he grinds his teeth as you ignore his simple demand. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you touching yourself - he loved it; encouraged it, even, but he wanted to be there for it. Involved in it. If you ever needed that specific kind of relief, he wanted to be the one to give it to you. Even on the few times he’s been away, he’s sent you videos, called you and made sure he was the only one who pushed you over the edge. His name on your tongue as you came to the thought of him, to his words or his pictures. He always wants to be the one. And he always is.

He also has never not been able to touch you, because if you knew one thing, it’s that Matt Murdock was not a man that shared what was his. Especially not you, even with your own hand.

“Stop.” Matt manages to say, and you hum, relishing in the attention he’s focusing on you. You spread your legs a little wider, making yourself comfortable. “That’s cheating.”

“Nothin’ in the rules about touching myself, Matty.” You breathe, and then gasp as your finger brushes over your most sensitive spot, still covered by your lace underwear. “Unless you want to come over here and make me stop?”

“I know what you’re doing. You’ll have to try a little harder than that, sweetheart.” His face is set so hard, like how you’ve seen him in the court room. Focused, not betraying a single emotion on that sweet face of his. You were going to wipe that stoic look off his face one way or the other.

“I’m gonna take these off.” You narrate, hooking your fingertips under the seam of your underwear, and start to slowly pull them down your legs. As you get about halfway, the fabric bunching over your knees, you sigh sweetly. “Help me out, baby?”

He exhales in a short, sharp laugh. He wasn’t technically touching you, and you both knew it was the closest he could get without forfeiting. Leaning forward, he used one hand to grab the part of your underwear not touching any skin, and starts pulls them down. The soft material slips over your shins and calves, and you know he’s going slow on purpose. You lift your feet up so he can remove them fully, and you watch intently as his thumb brushes over his new prize.

“The purple ones?” He recognises the fabric and you moan out a ‘mhmm’. “My favourite.”

“I know.” You let your legs fall open again, and you could of sworn you heard a small sound come from him at the movement. A crack in the ice. It ignites your confidence, and makes you want to keep going. Keep pushing. “Wore them for you.”

“Such a good girl, all the time. You wouldn’t be this mean. Not to me, right?” The words were sweet as honey. You loved when he spoke to you like that - with praise and a little bit of authority. It made you squirm, but you had to hold it together a bit longer. String him out a little further. You just moan again, your hand finding it’s destination, one finger running up and down in between your legs, brushing over your clit lightly. Just how he teases you. You see his face change. “You’re going to regret this.”

“But it feels so good, Matty.” His grip on the back of the couch tightens.

“Better than me?” You shake your head vehemently, appeasing his ego and moaning a negative incase he can’t figure out your answer from the sound of your movement.

“Nothin’ better than you.”

“I know, baby. Why don’t you let me take care of you? Come just a little closer, and I’ll make it all better.” Your toes curl, and you start to make small, tight circles right over your soft centre, nerves alight and sending shocks up your entire body. His voice is all you’ll need to get there, you just need him to keep talking.

“I can’t. You know I can’t.” Your jaw falls open, no longer able to hold it together. “Just want you so bad.”

“If you want me so bad, come here.” His tone is a little more demanding. Frustrated. Stubborn. Another crack. You resist the urge to smile.

“Will you- will you tell me? What you’d do if you could touch me?” He sits up, unzipping his pants and shoving them off aggressively. His erection is impossible to ignore, and your mouth waters at the sight of it when he pulls his boxers down and lets himself free.

“That’s what you want? You want me to tell you all the things I’m going to do to you when you break?” You don’t miss the cockiness in his words, but you just moan again, too lost in the feeling of your fingers against your clit. “Fuck. Okay - okay, slow down.”

You listen, obedient even when defiant. He can hear the sounds of your hands against your arousal slow to about half the speed, and the orgasm that was growing in your stomach is now only being stoked, your legs jolting every time you brush against your clit.

“Good fucking girl. I always go slow first, don’t I?”

“Mhmm.” You moan out, and he chuckles. The fucker was laughing at you. Pay back was going to be a bitch. You were really about to give in, then. Not now, though. If he was stubborn, you were going to beat him at that game, too.

“That’s it. Nice and slow for me. Want you all warmed up when you make yourself cum on my cock.” Oh. God - maybe you couldn’t outlast him. It was those kinds of words, sung to you in a voice so low and clear it was impossible to listen to anything else, that was what did it for you. What undid you every time. Fuck being stubborn.

“Oh God, Matt. Please - c-can I go faster?” He wraps his hand around the base of his cock, and you are mesmerised as he pumps his hand just once, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You can go a little faster. Since you asked me so nice. I’d do it for you.” You speed up, the fire in your tummy getting more aggressive as soon as you indulge the feeling. He pumps up and down once more, and his face screws up a little. Not in pleasure entirely, but something a little uncomfortable. At first you think it might be the situation, but then you look down, and recognise his problem. Your submissive side instantly takes over, your brain only knowing to do what you knew he wants. What he needs.

“You want me to help you, baby?” Matt swallows as he feels you get closer, but nods just once, taking his hand off himself. You hover above him, making sure he can feel the heat of your breath kissing the sensitive head of his cock as you angle down closer. God - what you wouldn’t give to wrap your mouth around him right now. You miss the taste of him - the feel of his hand threaded through your hair, how he tangles himself into it to feel the most of you that he possibly can.

Slowly, you let your spit drip down his length, alleviating the uncomfortable feeling of his dry hand. He doesn’t move, just lets you take your time getting him as wet as you are. Matt’s chest rises and falls so fast you think he might pass out, and his head is hung back so far that you can’t see his face from this angle. You bet it’s screwed up, and his mouth is open a little. He always looks so good when he’s strung out.

You start to retreat, careful not to brush against him as you sit back on your half of the couch, satisfied with your work. His hand wraps around his cock as soon as he feels your body heat move away, and the pain once etched on his face is replaced by only pure pleasure. The sight of him has you quickly returning your hand to your pussy, matching the pace he sets.

“Thank you.” He croaks out, and you silently high five yourself for how fucking ruined he sounds.

“Your welcome.” You sound exactly the same.

“God - I want to fuck you so badly right now.” He sighs, moaning your name as he starts pumping his hand harder, hips bucking irregularly. “You know it’d feel so good.”

“It would. You always fuc-“ You cry out as a wave of pleasure suddenly hits your chest, the new rhythm he was setting on himself having you seeing stars. “Always feel so good. Miss having you inside me.”

“Come here. Now.” He says through his teeth, and you just keep moaning out his name. He tries a new approach. “Baby. Baby, please come here. I’ll -I’ll let you cum so many times you won’t remember your fucking name. Just give it up already. I know you want to.” A new crack of determination nuzzles its way through the overwhelming pleasure at his words. Maybe it’s because it’s not actually Matt touching you right now that you are able to form a thought, but his words have you speeding up. Let you come.

Asshole.

“Fuck, Matty. I’m so cl-close - I think I’m gonna-“

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He almost shouts, hand pumping furiously at his cock as he cuts you off. It almost looks like it hurts, and maybe it does a little, but the sounds of his hand moving against himself with your spit is making your brain go fuzzy. Trying your best to keep up with him, your back arches off the couch and you turn your head to the couch cushion.

“Can’t stop, feels too good I just-“ The burn in your arm is secondary to the release you were chasing, and it was so close. You knew what you needed. He had gone silent, because he knew, too. If he spoke, that would be it. He had such a hold on you that all it would take would be a few well placed words and you would crumble in front of him, and for the first time, it was the last thing he wanted.

“Slow down. Right now.” Your back was arching off the couch, and it was an effort not to stretch your legs out. Bunched up on your end, your eyes were glued to Matthew, his abs flexing hard and free hand still fisting the couch, white knuckled. “Do not fucking finish without me.”

The tone of his voice was so low and harsh, he wasn’t meaning to but he was only making it worse. Teetering on the edge, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from talking.

“I wish you were touching me right now. Your hands feel so rough sometimes and I always think about it, think about how good it feels on me.” Your eyes were squeezed shut, the words flowing out of you from the darkest parts of your tipsy mind.

“Baby just-“ His hand gets faster, you can hear it, his restraint snapping little by little. “You just gotta come over here. Please.” You try to block out how hot he sounds begging for a glimpse of you, so you keep talking yourself through it, thinking of the things he would say if he was fucking you.

“I want you to fuck me through this couch, make me feel you for days like you always do. Want you to…” A gasping breath cuts you off, and it takes you a moment to regain your focus, the pleasure nearly cutting off your air supply making you hiccup.

“Finish your sentence. What do you want?” He was sitting straight up, leaning so close that if you moved and inch you’d feel him. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted him to touch you as badly as you wanted it right now - and that was fucking saying something.

You’d give it one more minute.

You think you can hold out for that long. One single minute of keeping yourself on the edge, one more minute to see if you can break Murdock like he breaks you every time. If you reached a minute and he wasn’t either buried between your legs or inside of you, you think you would implode.

“I- I want you to fuck me like you did when you came home last week. Leave a mark so I could feel it for days and-“

“That’s it. Keep fucking talking.” Your eyes open for a second and he’s kneeling, the hand on the top of the couch right next to your head. You hadn’t even heard him move, but now he was practically hanging over you, almost between your legs. Maybe your words effect him just like his do to you. “You sound so pretty. Keep talking for me, okay?”

“Matty, please just touch me. I need you to mmmmfuck- make me feel good.” He chokes out a desperate sound, and you shut your eyes again, no longer able to bare the sight above you if you couldn’t touch him.

“You need me?” You whine below him, nodding and making sure he knows just how bad he was right. It was a low blow, one you knew would make him even more desperate. Those simple words always got you what you wanted, no matter how long he had been playing with you. “Yeah, you fucking need me. Just need me to touch you so bad. Mark you up. Bet you’d cum as soon as I slid inside you, huh? Already so wet, I can fucking hear it.”

“Need you. Please.” You wheeze, and hear another choked sound leave his mouth. The couch shifts underneath you. Every nerve in your body was begging for him- you were begging for him, a string of pleases mixed with his name. If only either of you was less stubborn this stupid game would have been over long ago.

“You sound good like that. Begging for me. Keep going, tell me how bad you need it.”

“I’ll do whatever you want. Whate- Whatever you want. Just please. Please, please, please…” You sounded like you were having a tantrum, so close on the edge you were almost sobbing his name in ecstasy.

This was it. It probably hadn’t been a minute but you just couldn’t hold out any longer. Fuck the bet, fuck the stupid money. Nothing was worth not feeling him, having him just out of reach, you were so fucking close-

Matt’s hand brushes against your cheek, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear, and his thumb wipes away a tear you hadn’t realised had fallen on your cheek. It was soft; gentle.

He kisses you softly, and his hand takes over the work, replacing your own and keeping that hard, tight pace on your clit. The feeling was earth shattering - the difference between your hand and his somehow night and day, and when you kiss him back, you realise he just lost. He lost, not so he could fuck you, but so he could kiss you.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. Hm?” He murmurs, the hot air of his breath fanning over your forehead as his hand works at you, and all you could do what sob his name. “Cum for me. I earnt it.”

With that, he slides himself inside of you, and everything turns white.

“Fuck - yes.” You moan out and your cumming as soon as he hits the deepest part of you. He’s suddenly everywhere - an arm under your arched back pulling you against his chest, his mouth on yours muffling your wrecked moans of pleasure, his cock buried inside of you, hitting you hard and fast and desperate; just how you feel.

He isn’t far behind you, giving you exactly what you wanted and finishing inside, so deep you’d feel him for fucking weeks after this. He was making noises you’d never heard from him before - nearly whining with how much he needed you, his whole body tense as you ran your hands over every part you could feel, while your other hand scrunched into his hair.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Is all he was saying into your mouth, fucking you - using you to get through his high while simultaneously working you through yours. His lips moved to your neck, biting and kissing you all over. It was borderline territorial, and you were a whimpering mess underneath him, pinned to the couch taking whatever he wanted to give you and praying for more.

His hips eventually began to stutter in their pace, then slow to a stop- minutes or hours after he came. Time hardly registered, just him finally surrounding you like you’ve been wanting.

“Matt. Matt-“ His mouth was still attached to your neck, and you couldn’t imagine what you looked like, but it filled you with a sort of pride. You almost wanted him to keep going, but you wanted him to kiss you more, so you tugged on the strands of hair threaded in your hands. “Matt. You-“

“I know, baby. Don’t move.” The words echo through you, the command exactly the one you said to him earlier. He slowly slips out of you, never taking his hands off your body, and in one movement curls you up and pulls you completely to his side of the couch.

Finally, you can stretch out, your muscles like jelly as your legs tangle with his. Your head leans back to rest against his chest, which is still rising and falling too fast for normal. Admittedly, so is yours, as well as the occasional twitch in your legs from the pleasure dissipating through your body. Strong arms wrap around your chest and tummy, holding you tight, and he leans his head down to kiss your cheek.

“We are never doing that again.” He mumbles into the crook of your neck, and you laugh breathlessly.

“You didn’t like it?” He groans at your question.

“Baby, I fucking loved it, but I hated not being able to touch you.” He was whining now, and your hand snaked up, scratching lightly through his hair. You think he would of purred if he could. “You’re mine. Don’t like it when you try to come without me.”

“Mmm. You were too far away.” You agreed.

“Was hot, though.” You laugh again and he switches sides to kiss your other cheek, forcing you to look to the other side, where your eyes catch on the significant stack of money.

“I won.” You whisper into his ear, smiling, and he groans again.

“Stupid game.” He grumbles, teeth scraping lightly along the top of your shoulder, making you shiver. “Still made you cum.”

“We can always have a re-match.” He was still mumbling and groaning against you about how dumb the idea was, but you can feel his grin as you laugh.

“I got a different game in mind.” He whispers into your ear, and in the next moment you are in the air, being swept up and carried towards your shared bedroom.

“And what’s that?”

“How about I show you?” He kicks the door closed behind him, and lays you down on the bed slow and sweet before making true of his promise and destroying you from the inside out, just like he always did.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matthew murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil x y/n #matt murdock x oc #daredevil #marvel #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock smut #matthew murdock x y/n #charlie cox #charlie cox x reader #charlie cox x you #charlie cox fanfiction

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 1 year

Note

Matt and Peter trying to see who can fuck you better but they both fuck you so good that you become a babbling mess

i meshed two requests together, this one as well as matt and peter fucking villain! reader :)) i had a lotta fun with this one, enjoy!

VIGILANTE SHIT- P.B PARKER & MATT MURDOCK

Pairing: Peter! Matt! x Vigilante Black Cat! Reader (enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 8.8k

Warnings: SMUT, praise and degradation kink, mocking/ babying, petnames, teasing, swearing, mentions of blood/ violence (matt also bandages readers wound), bondage, dry humping, masturbation, breeding kink, man handling, overstim, fluff tho<33

"and i don't dress for villains, or for innocents.. i'm on my vigilante shit again. i don't start shit but i can tell you how it ends..."- vigilante shit, taylor swift

You had married the night.

It was your escape, your desires, your dreams. The stars were rings upon your fingers, the moon a shining spotlight through the clouds as you’d stalk your prey during the hunting hours.

You came alive in the darkness.

You felt like a burst of light, energy and power bursting through your veins. It was when you could take charge. When you could sneak up on people, make them fall to their knees and beg for salvation.

It was when you could get revenge on the people who deserved it most.

You had trained yourself to be a soldier. To have your guard up, to be alert and stealthy. The Black Cat, is what they had called you. You were quiet and flexible, getting in places the average person couldn't.

It was ideal for stealing.

“Stealing” things that didn't belong to the people who had stolen them in the first place. They didn't belong to the white, rich old men the prowled the upper parts of New York.

They didn't belong to the thugs and gangs in Hell's Kitchen either.

They belonged to you.

It was a waiting game, finding the right time to swoop in from your spot on the rooftops to scurry down and collect the goods. But it was one you were willing to play. You had played many games since your time on the streets in the twilight hours, like cat and mouse.

Matt Murdock and Peter Parker were crawling on you like spiders, and you had run into them more times than you could count. As fast as they appeared, you had fled.

They had no idea who you were, but you had made headlines. The thief in the night. The media didn't know anything. They liked to spin and twist lies for their own benefit, so that things would sell and people would become frightened.

What they didn't know- is that you only stole from people who deserved it.

Your own version of justice.

And right now, the men you were watching from the alleyway deserved it. You had been watching the Pirus gang now for days, hiding behind old warehouse containers and perching yourself upon balconies and ledges to spy upon them and their dirty deeds that made your own hands feel greasy with grime.

They had something that belonged to you. You had noted the 18k gold ring getting pocketed between them, a ring that had been gifted to your mother before she had passed.

You didn't care about the imaginary price tag that was attached to it, like these crooks did. You didn’t care you could sell it and easily make a hundred thousand dollars, waving goodbye to student debt and mortgage rates. You just cared that it was in a safe, and valuable place.

Tucked away in the little vintage jewelry box she had gifted you before she took her final breaths on that old, creaking bed.

A growl ripped through your throat as you saw them flip it up like a coin, hearing their mutters about ‘thank god the bitch is dead’. They were just a leap away. With a push, you could jump down upon the pavement, ripping them to shreds with your claws.

You had been patient enough, a clock ticking in your head with each second that had passed where the ring wasn't in your possession.

The ring was an easy target, and you shifted your weight stealthy to propel your body forward.

It was all coming together. It was easy.

Almost too easy.

As you guided yourself, eye on the prize- a sharp jerk yanked you back. The breath was stolen from your lungs, your scream muffled as a hand was placed across your mouth.

“Shhhh. Not a word.” the low voice murmured in your ear, his warm breath making the hairs on your neck rise with anxiety as you struggled against his chokehold grip he held on you against his large, solid body.

You were brought back in through the large warehouse window you had so stupidly turned your back on, too focused on the activities below to realize what was going on behind you.

Who was behind you, for that matter. You twisted your foot to step on his own, but he avoided it, clearly trained in combat as he fought back against your contained fight.

“Don’t make this harder for yourself sweetheart.” he growled, twisting you around to smash your body against the cold brick, the wind knocked out of you, too stunned to cry for help as he tossed you like a rag doll.

A black bandanna covered his eyes, toned body was hidden under the same black fabric, blood smeared across his cracked knuckles. You searched him for some recognition of who he was, but you were too dazed from the sudden assault, heartbeat racing too loud in your ears from adrenaline to think clearly enough.

“She's got fight in her man.” the mystery man smirked, as if you were a wild animal in a cage, desperate to get free.

Shivers broke out across your skin from under the leather as shocks went through your whole body, white, sticky webs clinging you to the wall like a mouse in a trap.

Then it clicked. Oh. Fuck.

“Oh you fuckers.”

A second body hung from the ceiling, emerging from the darkness into the dingy warehouse lighting, attached to a web as he waved at you from upside down.

“Well hello there!” he said cheerfully as if the three of you were all buddy-buddy and this was an everyday event.

“Was that a goddamn Star Wars reference?” you huffed, wanting to strangle the both of them.

“Yes. Maybe. Maybe yes.” He dropped from the ceiling, bouncing on his heels as he looked at you with interest through his mask, head tilted with curiosity.

“You need to slow your heartbeat. Calm down.” the masked man murmured lowly, listening to the increasing speed of its thumps as he neared you. It was then your vision cleared, and you could get a good look at them in the dimmed lighting.

Matt and Peter.

“I would be calm, if I wasn't webbed to a fucking wall right now.” you sang sweetly, making him smirk.

“It's for your own good.”

“Well technically, it’s for our own good because if she weren't bound she’d be clawing our faces off right now.” Peter noted, his voice fading in the distance as he found some random old chairs that were scattered in the corner.

“Peter’s right ya know.” you played along, the dragging of the chair's feet against the stone floor coming to an abrupt halt.

“You know my name?”

“Well duh. I’m not stupid, no matter how much you and Mr. Matthew over here may think I am.” You couldn't keep the sly smirk off your face, knowing you had them right where you wanted them.

You couldn't defeat them, and you knew the gang had most likely scrambled by now, along with your ring- but you could keep them talking.

“It's nice for us to finally be acquainted again.” Matt sighed, watching as Peter brought up the chair, plopping himself in one directly in front of you. As if you were a circus act, or the hottest new movie in the box office.

You huffed, not meeting his eyes as Peter curled his feet under him, sitting crisscross in the old, rusting chair. “What is this a therapy session?”

“Does it need to be? Tell me, my darling- how is your relationship with your father?” Peter asked mockingly, making you hiss out in response.

“Alright, alright enough. We just want to talk to you…”

“I’m not giving you my name.” you replied sharply, slightly struggling against the webs, having no luck of them weakening.

“How is that remotely fair?” Peter scoffed.

“Peter- enough. Fine, be that way. As I said, we just want to talk.” Matt exclaimed, cracking his knuckles as his head tilted to listen, surveying the nearby area with his ears.

“I think they left.” you murmured, and he nodded in response, mouth drawn into a hard line. “They left cause you scared them off with all your thrashing. Settle down woman, the webs won't break that easily.” Peter hinted, watching in amusement as you finally gave up, putting your head down in defeat.

“I hate you.” you murmured softly, quiet as a pin drop as you stared down at the cold concrete.

“Yeah, yeah tell us something we don't know.” Matt sighed, your eyes flickering back up to look at Peter, his legs still crossed in an almost childish manner as he leaned his head in his hands- appearing bored.

“Let's get this over and done with. What do you want to talk about?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

They were going to threaten you- obviously, or they'd try and talk you over with their magical words of wisdom, about how being ‘good’ was better than whatever the fuck you were doing. You didn’t care for it.

But you knew they wouldn't let you go until they said what they had to say.

You fought the urge to shiver, a cold breeze filtering through the broken windows, seething to chill your bones. Your nipples hardened, and you swore Matt’s head tilted slightly, a smirk dotting his face.

“You. Helping us.” Peter retorted, and before you could stop it, you laughed.

You laughed and laughed and laughed because what the fuck? That was the last thing you had expected them to say, his words seeming like an inside joke you weren’t involved with.

The cold had now disappeared, replaced with a warmth and bubbliness that pooled in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” was all you could gasp out, your sides hurting from the continuous laughter that poured out of you. You laughed partly because yes- it was funny, but also because you were confused and anxious. Not that they needed to know that of course.

“We need your help taking on Kingpin.”

There it was.

The laughter stopped. That name had left you scarred, your insides shriveling up at the whispers of memories that trickled through your brain.

“I don’t get involved with him.” you stated, voice hardened like cracked sugar. The air was sucked out of the room, and you saw fear and darkness slither across the brick.

“I know you don’t. That's why we’re now asking you to get involved with him, with us. We need another hand to play in his card game.”

“I don’t. Get. Involved.” you hissed, drawing out each symbol as if they were illiterate. Which they must have been. They must have been borderline stupid to think you would help them, with Kingpin nonetheless.

He was way out of your territory, and there were even lines you didn't cross once they were drawn.

“We’ll help you get your mother's things back.” Peter said cooly from his side of the room. Your head whipped towards him, eyes wide.

Maybe you didn't have the upper hand afterall.

“I don’t need your help.” Peter snorted, hand extending to the broken window, the one you had been perched out of a few minutes prior.

“Yeah. I’m sure.” he said sarcastically. “I had it under control, until you two showed up and ruined it.” you snarled.

“We saved you. They had multiple firearms on them, and you were severely outnumbered. The second you dropped, you would have been shot on the spot, too many bullets to stand a chance.” Matt replied to your outburst coolly. “But you wouldn't have known that, would you? They were tucked away, in their boots and under their jackets. Because if you did know, you would have been openly committing suicide, and that seems unlike you since theres jobs that still need to be done.”

You were silent. They had you in their webs. Quite literally, at that.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“You always have a choice.” Matt replied softly, his demeanor seeming to change. Almost as if... as if he felt bad for you. As if he could see right through you, could feel the pain and sorrow in your heart that ripped and clawed at you daily, could feel the loneliness and anguish that haunted you.

Maybe he didn't have many choices in his lifetime.

His words were nearly comforting, but you knew they were one-sided. You did have a choice, but if you didn’t accept their offer- things wouldn't turn out good. Not that they would working with them anyways.

But what ‘choice’ did you really have?

“Fine. When do we start?”

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

“It’s fucking cold.” you groaned, the air around you seeming brisker with each passing second. New York never seemed to be warm, the skin-tight suit plastered to you not helping the cause.

It was lightweight and stretchy, its fabric perfect for fighting and climbing- but it provided next to no warmth.

The sirens shrieked as they passed by under you, the city lights illuminating the two men next to you as you sat perched on the roof.

It had been a few weeks since the webbing incident, and you now waited- bored out of your mind for an instruction. It was unlike you to listen and not lead, but you wanted to see how the dice would roll.

You crouched low, the concrete block rough and bitter to the touch as you knelt at Peter’s level.

“It’s not cold. You’re just being a pussy.” Peter drawled, the wind whipping through his messy locks as he looked down, taking in the bustling traffic below.

The cars were all fancy here, all Porches and Bentleys on this side of town. It made you feel out of sorts, and uncomfortable in your skin.

“Did you just call me a pussy?”

“He meant it romantically.” Matt replied, your eyes meeting his sharp jawline as he sourced out the area from the other side of you.

“I did not.” he scoffed, a blush burning on his cheeks as he turned away, suddenly very interested with the stone ledge.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. When are we moving in?” you asked impatiently, rocking on the balls of your feet anxiously. It felt like you had been sitting up here forever, despite meeting them back near Hell's Kitchen over half an hour ago.

So in reality, you had really only been sitting here for a good twenty minutes. Yet, it dragged on.

Where was the action? The fighting? You were sick of waiting.

“Don’t even think of moving in without my signal.” Matt stated, sensing your anticipation as you sighed.

“What are we even waiting for?!”

“For them to take their fighting somewhere else.” Peter snorted, obviously as anxious to get going as you were, but it appeared he was more collected. He had been working with Matt a lot longer than you had, and you hoped to keep it that way.

You watched as Matt listened closely, obviously aware of the conversation that was appearing behind the glass in front of you. The two men were tall and build, almost double the size of you. Anger was written across their faces, buried in the creases of their foreheads as they yelled, hands frantically moving. Their black suits were wrinkled, blood dotting one's forehead as if a fight had occurred before this one.

You tilted your head, curious.

Were they not on the same side? Were they not both fighting for Fisk, defending him?

“They seem pretty angry for people who appear to be on the same side.” you hinted, trying to think of reasons they could possibly be so mad.

“You’d be surprised how competitive his men can get, when he's angry the way has been lately.” Peter stated, looking to Matt for instruction as a gun was cocked, hands going up in surrender.

“Should we intervene?”

Matt just shook his head.

“Let it play out.” was all he said. You despised how calm and collected he was about this. Part of you wanted him to be rash, so you could save him and yell at him for how stupid he was. But that wasn't his style, and you knew it never had been. He and Peter waited in the shadows, counting down the minutes until it was right to strike.

Suddenly another man appeared from the hallway, breaking up the fight. They left the room, and you felt your body instinctively moving forward, ready to leap, though you couldn’t reach.

“The documents Peter and I need are in the office across from that one, in a safe behind the painting behind the desks. All the offices look the same, it's an industrial office. You’re in charge of making sure no one comes up on this floor.”

“So what I’m on watch duty? You brought me along so I could protect you guys while you play capture the flag?” you scoffed. Seeing as to how they quite literally webbed you to a wall, asking for your help- you figured it’d be for something much cooler than this.

“For now.” was all he said, a tone in his voice indicating something else was on the table for a later date. “I don’t really have a choice in this.”

“You always have a choice.” he repeated, words echoing those at the warehouse.

“I’m going to fucking punch you.”

A laugh escaped Peter and he was quick to cover it with a slap to the mouth as he watched the stand down you had with Matt. Nothing was coming out of this, and you weren't expecting it to. But it was still fun to try and bother him anyways.

Nothing seemed to get under his skin, which irked you even more. He was the water to your fire, the voice of reasoning. Fuck his reasoning.

“Punch me and I’m telling you right now things will not end in your favor.” Matt snarled, hand grabbing your wrist as you raised it.

“I’ll take my chances.” you hissed back, hair raising on your arms like a cat’s from under your suit.

“Go.” he commanded sternly. “What?”

“Go. The floor is clear, for now. Peter’s taking you over.”

“Wha-” Before you could beg to differ, confused about what the man meant, you felt an arm wrap around your middle. Matt's grip released from your wrist, yet you could still feel the warmth of his skin against yours, the area where his fingers brushed you starting to tingle.

The wind rushed in your ears as Peter grabbed you, a web shooting from his wrist as he swung you off your feet. It took everything in you not to scream, the movement so quick and sudden you felt your lungs come out through your ribcage. You were soaring through the air, Peter's grip tightening on you as you watched the world blaze by in a blend of colours from under you, coming to a standstill as he stuck to the side of Fisks building.

You looked over to where you once were, finding it empty. Matt had already disappeared, not a whisper or a trace that he had ever been there remaining.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” you whispered, looking down and regretting it immensely.

“I thought you liked high places? Don’t all cats?”

“Not this high.” you whimpered, willing for him to pry open the window quicker than he was currently. Although you gave him credit, he was doing it one-handed after all.

“Just don’t look down. That's what I did before I got used to it.” he shrugged, and you clung to him tighter, breathing in the cologne he wore through his suit. It was nice, you realized, sort of hating yourself for liking it as much as you did.

All of a sudden the two of you were much too close, the air becoming hot and saccharine despite being almost twenty stories high, the wind whipping through your hair wildly.

He let out a small grunt as you heard the window click open, the glass freeing enough space for you to wedge your body through.

“This is the storage room, down the hall from the office we’ll be at. Stay close.” he instructed, and you scrambled to grip onto the window ledge. “And don't let yarn be a distraction.” he added teasingly, darting away before you could let out a sly remark in return.

“Asshole” you muttered to yourself, slowly and quietly shutting the window behind you. You had landed upon a shelf, filled with cleaning supplies. The smell of chemicals burned, your nose twitching with disgust as you took in your surroundings.

It was quiet in here, minus the gentle hum of the air vents. Dark as the night outside, you were stealthy and careful not to knock anything over as you leaped to the floor, the hard tile cold under your hands.

Mops, buckets, vacuums and brooms all were dotted against the walls, cleaning chemicals so advanced you didn't even know if you could pronounce them. Sometimes you forgot how much money this man really had. It seemed unimaginable.

Kingpin could probably buy the entire city if he wanted, in all honesty. You were rather confused why he hadn't yet, since that always seemed to be his endgame. Changing the city. Changing the way people lived, changing the way the economy ran to better suit his needs.

All this change that didn’t need to happen. He could change his shitty attitude, or even the paint colour in here. You thought with a sigh, dusting your hands off as you rose to your full height, on high alert as your hand reached for the door handle.

It was quiet outside. Too quiet.

You held your breath, feeling your lungs tighten as you slid beside the door. Your back was to the wall, heartbeat thumping in your chest as you heard a voice call from the end of the hallway, turning the corner.

Waiting wasn't something you were very good at, but you knew you had to time this right. The whole mission- and your life, depended on it. Just as his foot hit the hardwood in front of your hidden alcove, you swung the door open, arm reaching around his throat.

A meer gasp escaped him as you pounced on him, dragging him into the cleaning closet with you. His arm went back to hit you with his gun, but you had wrapped around him like a koala bear- his arms unable to you. His gun clattered to the ground as you kicked it, squeezing your arm around his airways even tighter as he fell back against a shelf.

You winced as the pain shot up your arm as he slammed you back against the wooden ledges, cleaning supplies rattling in the struggle.

“Can you pass out quieter?!” you hissed, feeling his grip lack as he slipped into unconsciousness. You jumped off of him as he thudded down to the ground, limbs spread out as his breathing steadied.

You sighed, dusting off your suit again with the quick bush of your hands. He had got dirt on you- the bastard. Grabbing underneath his armpits, you attempted to trudge the large, beefy man to sit against the shelf.

If he was going to be unconscious, he might as well ruin his posture in the process. It seemed like a fair trade, seeming as he almost pointed a gun at you and smacked your shoulders hard enough to see little black spots dot across your vision.

He would be out cold for a while, hopefully, long enough for your little boy scout duo to get their shit and scramble. You watched as he slouched over, proud of your handiwork. You were lucky he wasn't as large as the other guards you had seen, or else you weren't so sure your strategy would work.

Remembering you had a job to do, you slipped back over to the closed door, poking your head out slightly as you heard the ever so slight creak of a window close from the office down the hall.

Good. They got in.

You were scared to breathe, scared the rush of air whooshing through your trachea would set off some sort of alarm or trigger. It was like walking on pins and needles. The air seemed tighter here, stuffy as it weighed down on you. It was almost an unfamiliar presence was lurking nearby, someone you had seen in a nightmare once before, but had convinced yourself they weren't real.

Shivering, you tried your best to ignore it, slipping off behind the corner- somewhere you knew the cameras wouldn't be able to see you. Peter had already mapped out the floor plan earlier- his long, elegant fingers gliding over the page, his words tuning out slightly as you felt warmth spread through you the longer you watched his fingers point and tap.

You thought of them now as you watched the empty hallways, knowing they were probably gliding across the ridges of the mahogany desk as he waited for Matthew to finish his task.

They brushed against you now as you felt the hairs on the back of your neck raise, a ghost slipping through you.

Someone was watching you. Someone was here with you, and it wasn't Peter.

Before you could turn fully, hands reached for you, tugging you under an invisible wave. You were dragged under the surface, the shock and adrenaline causing you to gasp for air as they yanked you back against the wall.

Men came from all directions, swarming you. You kicked and clawed, getting in a good few punches as you struggled.

You were caught. Again.

But this time, they wouldn't be willing to talk- like Matt and Peter were. You didn’t know what they do, which was the scary part.

“MATT-” You managed to call out, quickly silenced as a butt of a gun was hit to your forehead, the force so strong your neck snapped back, head rolling limp as the sound of the crack reverberated through your ears.

The world turned dark, and you prayed deep down he had some idea what was happening to you at the time being.

He was a catholic. He’d hear.

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

The world was fuzzy.

Everyone said that, that when their eyes opened it was difficult to see for a bit, shapes and colours blending together. But it was bad. Worse than they put it in the books, when they didnt know how else to change the scene, so they just made the character unconscious or whatever.

You feared you were trapped in a watercolour painting as your eyes opened, hand reaching up to grab the place where your head was throbbing like a jackhammer.

You ached for it to stop, moaning out in pain as the word started to reform itself.

“Shh, shh relax.” a familiar voice called, though he sounded slightly out of tune and distant. Matthew came into view as you turned your head, his hand reaching out to press you back into the pillows.

“What happened?” you croaked out, trying to hold back the tears as you felt dried blood crust on your forehead. There was the sound of water trickling as he twisted out a clean rag, the bowl on the bedside table scattered with medical supplies.

You managed to move slightly, allowing him to sit next to you on the bed, a slight frown on his face as he sighed.

“Peter ran out to back you up, but we were outnumbered. He grabbed you and we took off. There were too many of them swarming us for it to be a decent fight, especially because you were knocked out.”

The warm cloth was pressed against your gash, and you flinched from the sudden contact as he tended to you.

Who would have thought? Not you.

“I thought the Matthew Murdock never backed down from a fight?” you asked curiously, knowing it would twinge a nerve or two. But it didn’t. He just shrugged, setting the cloth back down next to the others.

“I do when someone who is on my side is hurt.” he stated, voice seeming to be filled with an emotion you couldn't quite decide on. It was a factual statement, and you were honestly shocked he wasn't more upset with you.

You were silent as he stood, bed creaking slightly from the removal of his extra weight, his arms hanging limp at his sides. It was then you could get a good look at him, though the lighting was dim in his apartment.

His knuckles were slightly smeared with dried blood, some slashes dotted across his forearms that seemed fresh.

But he was unbothered.

He had put on the mask you had put on so many times before, becoming a soldier. Becoming guarded.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” he noted, sensing your gaze on the marks that dotted across his exposed skin. All you could do was clear your throat as you peeled your eyes from him, desperate to think of anything else but running your fingers across his skin.

You focused on the red numbers from the analog that stared at you, seeing it was an odd hour in the early morning. The heavy rain pattered against the windows, the comforting sound reminding you of nights at your mother's, listening to the rain hit the tin.

Her soft perfume would wrap you in an embrace as she’d lie with you, book in hand as you’d drift off to sleep. The sound always brought you back to a place of serenity, even in the toughest of times. You urged to find yourself back to the memories of her, but were interrupted by the sound of the door slamming, and the squealing of wet boots.

“He returns triumphant.” Peter called from the entrance, a plastic bag dropping to the ground with the water that dripped from his coat as he shrugged it off.

You groaned, forcing yourself to swing your legs over the bed, the hardwood cold against your feet. Pushing up, you wobbled slightly as you rose to your full height- feeling like a fawn on its new legs.

“Did Claire cause a fuss?” Matt asked, flicking on a light from around the corner. You heard water run from a faucet as Peter shook out his dripping hair, running his fingers through it before carrying the bag over to him.

“No, no she seemed fine with it. Kinda rushy but-” His attention slid over to you, concern across his features.

“Hey, hey you're supposed to be in bed.”

“I don't like you.” you murmured, trying to shoo him away as he walked towards you.

“I don't care. You’re supposed to be resting.” he sighed, rolling his eyes as you protested. Peter's hands were warm, despite being outside in the crisp, chilled New York air as they picked you up gently.

He treated you as if you were a piece of fine china when he walked, moving ever so slowly to avoid jutting you around more than necessary. It was odd, considering you both had given each other the side eye more times than you could count.

You weren't used to the attention. You weren't sure if you liked it or not, it was too unfamiliar and new. But you accepted it, tucking your head to your chin as you clutched his sweater tighter, the clenching of your fists bringing you relief.

He carried you to the bathroom, the brighter lighting making you squint as he entered. Matt stood at the vanity, the bag of goods Peter had picked up scattered out on the counter. You gulped at the sight of the medical tools, the needle and thread making your skin crawl.

“I think I’m fine.” you said, anxiously clearing your throat as Peter set you down beside the sink. Matt resumed his doings, gathering the thread as if this were an everyday occurrence for him.

It very well could be, you realized.

“Seriously, I’m okay-”

“Hold her still.” Matt insisted to Peter as you made a move to slide off the counter. Panic swarmed you like flies, maggots chewing away at your lungs as you found it harder and harder to breathe.

It wasn't because of the boys, far from that. They had taken quite good care of you, despite the circumstances. It was the needle, the damn needle that made your stomach turn in on itself.

The idea of something sewing through layers of your skin did not sit right with you. You wanted to turn to the invisible camera, break the fourth wall during this shit.

“Can you believe this shit? I can help take down Fisk, but I’m scared of a small needle? (and commitment sometimes)”

“Breathe.” Matt commanded sternly as his hand gripped your thigh, sensing your bubbling fear. You shook your head frantically, your stomach starting to clench.

A gentle touch to your other thigh startled you, and you looked over in alarm as Peter's fingers brushed your skin, his eyes seeming to bleed raw with empathy. He seemed genuinely concerned for you, and you welcomed his touches with open arms as you started to shake and buzz with nerves.

“Kitty, it’s okay. I promise you, he knows what he’s doing.”

”I used to stitch up my dad after his fights when I was a kid. I’ve been doing it my whole life.” Matt replied softly. “It’s not that it’s just… it grosses me out. The needle- I mean.”

Matt tilted his head slightly, a small little smile on his face. The one you had seen so much when you were around him in the short period of time, the one he did when he was teasing you.

You wanted to rub it off his face, smear it like chocolate into his skin with the palm of your hand.

“You’re a brave lil thing. You’ll be okay.” You closed your eyes, doing anything to dissociate, anything to convince your mind you were in a better place. Knuckles clenched around the counters edge, nails scratching the sharp surface as you keened.

“I’ll be gentle.” he murmured in your ear, close enough so that you could breathe in his scent, could feel the heat that pulsed off him in a sinusoidal wave.

He was far, yet so close in your mind, sight like tunnel vision as you tried not to be consumed by him. But it was impossible. The soft gentle squeeze on your thigh took away from Matt's actions, and you exhaled softly, steadily.

In for four. Hold for four. Out for four. In for four. Hold for-

“Which one of them did this to you?” Peter asked you benevolently, finger strumming a steady rhythm. You were scared for him to stop.

Suddenly, you didn't want to be left alone anymore. It was strange how the human body could react like this, how it could change and fluctuate depending on each situation was thrown at it. It wasn't equipped to handle them alone. It was a machine, but was unusable, nor was it well-oiled if someone wasn't there to support it.

In some cases, that was the last person you'd ever expect in your life to keep its maintenance.

“I’m not sure. He had a scar, right across his cheek. That’s all I could see of him, before the others came.”

Silence. Then another beat.

“We’ll kill them all.” was all he said, eyes slipping up to admire Matt's handiwork. Matt nodded, humming to himself softly as he patched you up with ease. Your eyes threatened to bulge out of their head at their comments, shocked that they could talk about this so… so lightly.

And for you? They would kill for you, someone they could barely stand to work with. It rubbed you the wrong way.

There was more to this than you realized.

“I thought the two of you didnt kill?” you asked hesitantly, gritting your teeth so hard they hurt as you felt Matt tug on the final stitch.

The two of them just shrugged. You didn't like how much they shrugged.

“We don't really.”

Then this was personal. This was about Fisk. You needed- no ached for more answers for the more questions that brewed in your mind,

Why Fisk? Why bring you into this? They most likely weren't planning on killing them because of you. You seemed too insignificant. There was a larger cause behind this, if it was driving them to killing instincts.

“So why?” You couldn't help but speak your current interest, too many questions churning deep inside the labyrinths of your mind.

“Done.” Matt sighed, ignoring your questions. A chill spread through your thigh as you felt Peter's hand slip from the surface of your skin, slightly scarred but smoothen after healing.

It felt like a shock, his hand retracting as if he was zapped from you. As if the trance was broken, and things were back to normal. Where you hated him, and he hated you, and neither of you could look at each other for more than two minutes without making faces like children.

His footsteps were silent, cat-like as he removed himself from the tension sharp enough you could cut it with a knife- as he should.

You’d go, or he would.

You slipped from the counter, watching as Matt started to put his supplies in random drawers, although they weren't random to him. He opened each one swiftly, knowing exactly where to put each item where.

You stood still, hoping he’d provide you with the answer you desired. You didn't want to leave this apartment without one.

But he ignored you, acting as if you weren't there. A childlike tendency was brewing inside you, and you fought the urge to not stop your foot against the cool tile and huff.

“Matt?”

“Yeah?”

Why won't you tell me anything? Why am I being left in the dark? Why, just why can't you tell me anything? But you didn't want to push anything.

It was too soon. You had a feeling deep down, small but visible, that’d they'd tell you at some point. Patience was key. It was key in that cleaning closet, and it was key now. It had overtaken so many parts of your life- being patient. It was difficult to master, but it was essential for independence.

“Thank you. For stitching me up, and taking care of me. I appreciate it.” you nodded, not waiting for a reply before you stepped out of the bathroom, heart heavy in your hands.

It had weighed on you- how exhausted you were. It was a lot for your body to handle, in such a short period of time. It was hard for you to admit it to yourself, but you registered the fact you hadn't done something as extreme as this.

Of course you had taken down organizations before, small little street gangs and such that caused disturbances to your true targets.

But this? Fisk? It was a lot. And you had a very strong feeling it wouldn't be ending soon.

The sound of a glass shifting across the table made you jump, the scraping of the glass against the mahogany an uncomfortable pause in the everlasting silence.

Peter’s hand closed around the cup, adams apple bobbing as he chugged the water back.

“You gonna sleep in just that?” he asked, eyebrow raised with a sly grin on his face. You looked down, the oversized tank top hanging down just past your knees.

You presumed it was one of Matt’s considering how large it was on you- and the fact all you had on you at the time was your suit.

They had seen you mostly naked. Oh my god.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you looked back up at him, determined not to let the humiliation you felt win. Besides, Peter was more pretty to look at than the floor anyways.

“What else am I supposed to wear? You gonna be a pervert?” His hands flew up in mock defense, eyes widening.

“No, no I’m a gentleman. Just worried you’ll be cold, that's all.”

“These floors better be heated then.” you shrugged, snagging a warm fuzzy blanket off the arm of the couch.

“No ones sleeping on the floor. I’m on the couch, you're with Parker in the bed.” Matt chipped out, emerging from the bathroom at last. It was as if he was your conversation- not wanting to interrupt in case someone said something snarky and he’d drop the popcorn.

It took you a second to understand what he said fully, feeling incompetent.

“The bed?”

“The bed.” You shook your head hectically, the room blurring.

“I can sleep on the floor.”

“I know you can.” he replied, hand touching the lower area of your back as he passed you, making you shiver.

“But it’d be much better if you slept in the bed with your injuries. And besides, what guest sleeps on the floor?” he asked coyly, fluffing up the couch pillows.

Peter’s smile was mischievous as ever, a glimmer in his eye as he took you in.

“C'mon kitty. I don't bite. Promise.” You refused to trust a promise from Parker. But you felt your feet begin to automatically walk over to the comfort of the bed, with its warm sheets that smelt of lavender.

Today was bundles of nightmares all smashed into each other, toppling over one another to cram themselves into the twenty-four hours.

What would sleeping next to Parker do to add to that?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ He added a lot.

Though it wasn't nightmares- the opposite in fact, it was more trouble to your own morals than you thought was possible.

You woke just as the sun rose, only managing to muster a few hours of shut eye despite the events before. Though your injuries were numbed from pain meds, it was spent tossing and turning between the sheets, trapped in the labyrinth of your own mind.

You were internally angry at yourself, mad at the attraction you felt towards the two men. It had only been a few weeks, and anytime their eyes lingered on you for too long you felt your panties start to dampen.

You wondered if they could tell.

The idea that they could excited you even more.

This wasn't supposed to happen, this little rendezvous of sexual tension between the three of you. You were the villain, they were the heroes. The villain wasn't supposed to clash with the hero in that way- it was off-script.

Yet you felt frozen in place as the birds chirped, Peter's warm body so close to yours you felt the hardening bulge in his pj pants- his large arm draped over your body.

Everyone was still asleep as far as you knew, but you wouldn't be surprised if Matt was awake. He was as quiet as a mouse, most likely listening to your quickening heartbeat as Peter's arm brushed against your hardened nipples, and you opened your legs slightly.

You swallowed, too afraid to make a sound.

“Mmm here kitty, kitty.” he whispered, voice husky and laced with sleep against your scalp.

Your eyes widened.

Was he dreaming about you?

Shifting, you brushed the curve of your ass against his bulge, making him groan. There was no harm in a little fun- was there? It’s not like you were in love with them or anything.

Who said you couldn't mess around for a bit- act on that sexual tension?

You heard his breath catch in his throat, eyes opening slowly to feel you pressed up against him.

“Were you dreaming of me?” you asked innocently, starting to slowly tease him, his fingers brushing circles against your hardened nipples.

“I like when you do that, ya know. They're so sensitive.”

“You minx. You're being a tease.” he growled softly, pinching your nipple harshly as you softly yelped.

“Don’t you like it when I’m a tease though bug boy? It just means you’ll have to train me real good.” you smiled, turning back to give him puppy dog eyes, resulting him practically dry-humping you.

You knew Matt could smell your sweet arousal, and you wondered how long he would hold off before yelling at the two of you to stop fucking around on his bed.

“I thought you hated me?”

“I do. But you feel so good.” you sighed, coy smile blooming as he shimmed lower, teeth sinking deep into your neck as he slid his hand down to part your legs even further.

“Such a fucking whore. Just some cock will shut you up- won’t it?”

You nodded frantically, the hiss that slipped from his lips sounding like music to your ears as he felt how wet you were through the flimsy fabric.

“Please. Please I’ll be so good I promise-” you begged, squirming with anticipation as he chuckled lowly.

“Oh so now she switches up hmm? Silly girl.” he cooed, slipping your thong to the side. You couldn't believe this was really happening. It made your head spin, made your limbs tingly at the thought alone how wrong this was.

Wasting no time, he tugged down his boxers, slowly teasing you as he slid the tip along your wet folds. You knew he was doing it just to spite you, and you were insistent on not giving him the satisfaction.

Biting your lip, you shivered as he toyed with you- a cat playing with its dinner.

“Oh so no back talk now? Good.” he growled, sliding it in to the hilt, making you slap your hands over your mouth with a means to silence the moans that threatened to escape.

Though there was no point, Matt heard every little breath and whimper you protruded, cock hard and heavy in his hands as he stoked it like some pervert.

Peter stuffed you to the brim, brushing your g-spot as he tossed his head back in pleasure.

“F-fuck-” you whimpered, almost unable to speak with how sudden the stretch was. It sent fire coursing through your veins, an adrenaline rush bringing you back to when you were in his arms on the rooftop.

“Fuck is right, Jesus Christ you feel so good. So fuckin tight.” he moaned, slowly sliding out of you, feeling your juices coat the base of his cock as he thrust into you hard enough to send your body jolting before he steadied you.

A new body had entered the room, his presence searing and as hot as embers. Little moans escaped your mouth as you stared at Matt, mouth agape, eyes wide as Peter hammered into you.

“In my bed? Really?” he smirked, and you followed his happy trail down to where his large, veiny hand palmed himself as he heard your heartbeat skip a beat.

“Well someone’s happy to see me. Hmm kitty?”

You moaned, hiccuping on your spit and drool as Peter’s thrusts became more erratic. By the way he was handling you, you knew he didn’t care how quickly you came.

He was using you as a toy, a means to get off. That turned you on even more.

“You’ll get your turn with her after Matty. We talked about this.” he mused, watching your breasts bounce from his harsh manhandling.

“Oh, I know. It’s only fair, isn't it kitty?”

“Y-yeah.” you choked out, Matt’s fingers reaching out to wipe the drool that had dribbled from your lips, swirling his tongue around the coated digit and releasing it with a pop.

“She’s already going dumb. Like a bitch in heat.” Peter smiled, him and Matt holding you steady as your body instinctively attempted to wiggle away from the intense waves of overstimulation, his moans ringing out throughout the room as he came in you with a grunt.

“She just needs to be bred.” Matt smiled, tugging off his boxers and your eyes nearly rolled at the sight.

This was addicting. The way they were making you feel, the way they spoke to you as if you were just a toy for their pleasure. But that's what you liked. Which made it so you knew it would be even harder to avoid this scenario again. It was like a drug.

His hand gripped your chin, forcing your gaze on his as Peter slid out of you, cum oozing out all over your puffy, swollen cunt as you whined from the abrupt emptiness.

“Shhh. You’re fine.”

Your body was limp as Matt took over, flipping you on your stomach, knees bent with your ass in the air. Kisses trailed down your spine, thin tanktop slung somewhere in the room.

You didn’t know. You didn't care.

All you cared about was the way he handled you, so gentle compared to Peter. But you knew he’d get rough soon.

“S’too much-” you mumbled sleepy against the sheets, feeling spent.

“She's spent. Fuckin whore is cockdrunk.” Peter smirked, shrugging on a t-shirt as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.

It felt dirtier with him watching in a way, knowing his eyes would linger on you in your most vulnerable state.

“But she had so much backtalk with us these past few weeks. What happened to that now angel?” Matt asked mockingly as he slid back in you, stuffing Peter's cum back into your abused hole again.

“Mhm-” you moaned, fisting the sheets as he entered you. He was more patient than Peter, slowly filling you instead of slamming to the hilt- but the stretch was just as delicious.

“M’so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” you mindlessly babbled- for what you didn't know. You just wanted to be good, to make them happy, and to please them. If that meant shattering your ego, then so be it.

“Silly girl.” Matt provoked, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he started to use you as he saw fit. You sunk your head deeper into the pillows, tears starting to stream down your cheeks from the sensitivity.

“M’gonna cum-” you hiccupped cautiously, seeing as Matt’s pace was not stopping for anything, or anyone.

“Yeah? Go ahead baby. I’ll let you, since Parker was being so cruel.”

“She was being a tease. She had to learn a lesson.” Peter mused, teeth digging into his lower lip as he watched where you and Matt connected, knowing his cum was being shoved further into you.

“But she’s such a sweet girl. Deep down, you just wanna please us, don’t you baby? Your little demeanor doesn't fool us.”

You felt your brain go fuzzy, his voice sounding distant as you came around his cock with a high pitched whine.

“Atta girl kitty.” Peter called, creaming Matt’s cock as he stilled, filling you up just the same. His grunts were like music to your ears, following you as you came down from the little cloud you were perched on.

“So good baby. Just stay put, yeah?” Matt murmured, and you didn’t even have the strength to nod as he slowly inched his way out of you, both of their cum now slowly spilling out of you as your legs twitched and quivered.

You couldn't move even if you wanted to. Your body felt like jello, and you felt your lower half slowly slide down onto the bed as you whimpered.

“Hurts s’bad.” you groaned, Peter's hand finding its way to stroke your cheek bringing you some form of comfort as you heard Matt start to run the tap, warm water spewing out onto a clean washcloth.

“I know kitty. But you did so good for us. It’s okay, just go back to sleep yeah?”

You nodded, eyes starting to droop as you clung to consciousness.

“I fucked her better you know.” Peter called, making Matt scoff as he returned with the damp fabric in hand.

“Yeah right. Older men just do it better Parker.” he shrugged, and you almost wanted to deride them. They were bickering like children and if you were in the position to bicker back- you would.

The feeling of the cloth against you made you jolt, and Peter reached out to steady you, rubbing small soothing circles on your back as Matt cleaned you.

It was strange and unfamiliar, the kindness and soothing physical contact the men were showing you. You bathed in it, scared it would all slip away like sand when the after-orgasm haze wore off.

“I’m sure Murdock. But who got to have her first?”

“Because she was sleeping right next to you! In my bed, may I add.”

You rolled your eyes, their endless arguing lingering over to the kitchen as you clung to the warm blankets that smelt of them.

It was going to be a long day indeed.

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berrieluv · 1 year

Text

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"

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.

#matt murdock one shot #matt murdock angst #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x fem!reader smut #matt murdock x plus size reader #daredevil x female reader #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil smut #daredevil x y/n #daredevil imagine

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demigoddessqueens · 1 year

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“I’m going to watch the new Daredevil for the plot”

The plot:

#marvel #daredevil #mcu #daredevil x you #matt murdock #charlie cox #daredevil x y/n #daredevil reborn #matt murdock x you #daredevil: born again #matt murdock x vigilante!reader #daredevil x gender neutral reader #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil x vigilante!reader #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader

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undercoverpena · 2 years

Text

favours and antics

matt murdock x fem!reader

warnings: alludes to smut, fwb, written on phone be aware: spoiler-ish for she-hulk episode 8, slight mention to this episode in relation to our whorey-devil

masterlist

It wasn’t that you were jealous, but you couldn’t deny your heart sunk when Foggy said Matt was out of town.

Your beer suddenly not hitting the same spot.

The music not thrumming through your bones in the way it usually does.

Your smile more forced.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love Foggy or Karen, but the evening did not seem nearly as fun. Not that you could say it, not with how Foggy stared at you when Karen explained what he was doing out of town. A case, she explained. Likely flirting up a storm, is what else she’d added.

You’d become good at hiding your emotions, able to apply a mask of your own before you show too much.

Because Foggy doesn’t understand.

Hell, sometimes you’re not even sure you understand.

Even if you were the one who made Matt agree to just be friends, although it’s your body occasionally betraying you.

Friends.

Not even really lovers.

Just people who are friends that occasionally fuck. It was simple. Easy. No complicated feelings and relationship demands.

He lives his life, you live yours.

Even if feelings try to ruin it. Your work allowing you to bury yours, using work as an escape; Matt doing whatever Matt does between lawyering and vigilantism.

You try not to think about it.

Because he’s great with people. He’s a flirt. Someone who truthfully doesn’t have time for a whole other person in his life, and yet rarely is ever on his own.

Which is why it’s easy to slide into his arms. The flirting growing either over a game of pool, a few too many beers, or even a bad day. It should end there, but it never does.

You always finding yourself kissing him, letting your fingers undo shirt buttons as you run palms over healing wounds and scars. His hands freeing skin, kissing every inch, running his teeth over collarbones.

All of which is the very reason you’d been avoiding him—until the bar the other night. Hoping to ask him a favour then, with people around.

Not like this.

Not in his office.

His small, well-lit office, with no one else even around to interrupt.

He also looked good, annoyingly good. That sweet smile doing a number on you before he even said hello. Your hands diving inside your bag, needing something to do.

“Foggy said you were disappointed I was out of town when you met for drinks?

Fucking Foggy, the gossip.

You smile. “Well, I’d hoped to ask you for a favour.”

“I see.”

“How…” you ask, pushing your hair from your shoulder, “um, was your business trip?”

He smiles, likely reading straight through your words. The way you nervously asked.

His fucking gift making it easy to know all your secrets.

“Interesting. A little different than New York.”

Your eyes narrow because you noticed the infliction. That same pang filling your chest from the bar, one you try to quickly swallow. Trying not to replay the way he said interesting with that smug voice.

“The bars as good?” you ask, your jealously bubbling. Remembering Foggy calling, telling you and Karen that he’d heard him out. “I was with Foggy still, he’d said you were at a bar.”

His hand moves to his hips, his lips sliding up into one of those smirks. One you suspect he uses on everyone he wants to woo.

Because he knows what he does to a person. He’s not stupid. He’s whispered it in your ear before. That he can hear your heartbeat. How it quickened when his hand steadied your hip as he stood behind you at the pool table.

“You sound awfully jealous there, sweetheart?”

You lick your lips. Thinking of how best to respond, when you realise it’s better if you don’t.

“Anyway, as I said, I need a favour. I have a situation with a client of mine—I know you just travelled for a favour but…”

Your words slowly dying as you watch his hand outstretched, moving from his hip. Handing him the file—the one you’d already had put in Braille, something which seemed to make him smile when his fingers brushed over it.

Even if you’re trying not to let it bother you, his smile warms you. You busily trying to fill him in on the complaint, his head occasionally tilting as you talk, finger running across the papers.

You give him a minute—one that feels like an hour.

Able to smell his aftershave, all wooden and musky, the scent which has clung to your skin on many occasions. One which rushes memories and feelings, making your chest tighten.

“So, can you help?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

You let out a soft breath, closing your bag. “Thank you. It means a lot.”

“No problem, we’re friends after all, aren’t we?”

You glare, sighing, before nodding. Because you know what he’s getting at. While also knowing in his freaky way, he can sense your nod, likely even your annoyance at his word choice, turning to the door as he speaks again.

“And, if you ever fancy being reminded of how friendly we can be, you don’t need to wait to meet me at a bar to find out. You can call me.”

Letting your hand fall from the door handle, you look over your shoulder. His hand on his hip, suit jacket pushed back from his waist; the glasses removed, that shit-eating smirk on his face.

For a second, you just stare at him.

Both in admiration and in annoyance, the two swirling together as he moves around his desk. The room suddenly feeling smaller, the air tighter.

Asshole.

Beautiful, handsome asshole.

And then he’s behind you. Enough of a gap left for you to open the door, to leave.

But close enough to stop you if he wanted to.

So you straighten your spine, applying your best smirk. “I don’t think you have it in you to fuck me like I need, Murdock. But, if I fancy having an itch scratched that my vibrator can’t hit, I’ll call.”

Before you can even reach for the handle, his hand presses the door into the frame, eyes narrowing when you look back at him.

“Friends don’t barricade friends in offices.”

“Friends also don’t lie to their other friends about how good they make them feel.”

You glare. “Are you telling me I’m wrong?” you continue. “Or are you trying to tell me your LA hook up didn’t scratch that itch, I’m sure you can find someone at Josie’s?”

He laughs. “Oh, no they definitely did. Just wasn’t sure if you needed the reminder of how good we are together.”

He feels closer, even if neither of you have moved. His presence alone growing greater.

“I remember. I also remember last time you leaving immediately after. Donning a leather suit and climbing onto roofs,” you say, turning to face him, standing to the side of the door. “I’ve had men leave, don’t get me wrong, never out of their own window, so no, I don’t want a reminder.”

He smirks, but it’s not the same as before.

Even less so as he closes the small gap between you both, pressing your spine against the wall, arm sliding over from holding the door in place to beside your head—even if you’ve long abandoned the idea of leaving.

“You want to repeat that?”

You don’t.

Not as your mind begins to run away from you. Thoughts of him pressing his body against you, feeling how firm it was; sinful ideas of him fucking you on his desk, a neutral ground for the two of you—except harmless flirting.

All the while trying to control your body, not wanting your cheeks to flush, your heart to race, or even let your body sweat from the longing and thought of him doing unholy things to you.

Because for a man of god, he didn’t fuck like one.

Even with your cockiness, your faux confidence and nonchalance, you knew there was no way you could truthfully say he didn’t know how to fuck a person. He did. And the fucking man knew it.

His free hand took your chin, tilting your face up to his—a little firmer than normal. “Care to share what’s gotten you so quiet?”

You swallow, instantly hating yourself for it.

Knowing he heard it. Just like you think he knows you’re trying to rub your thighs together. Especially when he slides his own knee between your legs.

“You sure you don’t want that reminder?”

“I’m not a toy, Matthew.”

He smiles, thumb stroking the side of your lips. “Shame. If you were, I’d play with you all the time.”

You let your eyes flick over his face, knowing his words shouldn’t work. They shouldn’t.

But they do.

“Drop your bag, sweetheart.”

You lift your chin. “Why?” you ask. Aiming for it to come out as more of a blunt question, than a breathy reply.

His fingers slide from your chin along your jaw, moving his face closer. “Just do it.”

And you do.

Both from the way his lips almost ghost over yours and the demand in his voice. His other hand, the one you’re rarely paying attention to, slides over your hip, sliding around and over the slope of your ass.

You just watch, not sure if you should stop it, leave, put the distance between the two of you that you think you both need. Or stay. Stay and likely defile his office.

“Stop thinking,” he whispers darkly, gripping your ass through your trousers, pulling your hips flush against his. “You’re not going to go.”

You swallow, lifting your hands, sliding them over his hips, fingers slowly untucking his shirt from inside his trousers.

Watching him, the way his jaw tightens, his lips occasionally twitch between a smile and a smirk. His lips still close, but you haven’t moved,—even if you want to.

Even if that want is obvious to him and his senses, feeling your own arousal when you clench your thighs together.

“You can k—“

You don’t let him finish, kissing him. Hearing him groan, it vibrating against your lips, feeling his grip on your cheek tighten. Your back more forcibly being pressed against the door as your fingers slide to the front of his trousers, toying with the idea of loosening his belt.

Almost ready to undo it, to give in, to surrender.

And then you hear the main office door open, both of you pausing, not wanting to move until you hear laughter and then:

“Matt?” Foggy’s voice calling out, yanks you both apart. “I brought you food.”

Your heart in your throat, eyes burning into Matt’s—watching the colour drain from his cheeks as he licks his lips.

“I’ll go—“

“No,” he says, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair as Foggy calls out again. “Yeah, cool. Thanks, Fog… I’ll be… I’ll be out in a minute.”

He reaches his hand out, taking your elbow and your attention. “Come to mine. Tonight.”

You arch your brow. “You gonna leave out a window again?”

“No, I’ll be too busy.”

“Busy?”

He smirks, moving his lips close to your ear. “You’ll see tonight, sweetheart.”

Your body goes warm as he kisses your cheek, your hand reaching for the door handle as his fingers slowly release your elbow.

“Matt,” you whisper. His head turning in your direction. “If I leave tonight knowing my own name, you’ve failed.”

His smirk broadened. “Oh, sweetheart. You aren’t leaving tonight.”

His hand turning the door handle instead of allowing you a chance to reply, adrenaline thumping through you as you follow.

#matt murdock #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x reader smut #matt murdock x fem!reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil smut #matt murdock x fem!reader smut #matt murdock x female reader #daredevil x fem!reader #daredevil x y/n #daredevil x reader smut

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cafeacademia · 1 year

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𝐋𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐬

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐒𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After the success of the blind accessible chess board you bought for Matt a few months ago, you've since moved in with him and noticed that he could really benefit from a braille label maker. And maybe, Matt has a little too much fun with it.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Light fluff, some sexual banter but honestly nothing that bad. Matt has a moment of chaos with his new braille label maker.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: Approx 710

𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 | 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hello!! This fic is connected to Chess! Feel free to read that first, but it's not a big deal if you don't. It's been quite a while since I've posted anything. In any case, I hope I've picked Matt back up well, sorry if he feels a bit off, I'm also currently in bed with a flu so please excuse any silly mistakes! I appreciate the support so much, if you'd like to reblog/comment, it is always appreciated but not at all necessary, thank you for reading my fics! Please let me know if you'd like to be removed from my old taglist! I may refresh this, idk yet. Anyway, enjoy!

Matt should be used to this by now. You, unlike anyone he’d known thus far, had a tendency to find as many blind accessible solutions for him as possible. He insisted he could do fine by himself, of which you did not doubt for one second and you respected wholeheartedly. The aim wasn’t to remove his freedom to do it alone, or to make it feel like he couldn’t do things without your help, but it was more to make life easier. The truth was, Matt seemed to enjoy letting you guide him, even if he could do it himself. And after the pure joy and excitement he had displayed from you finding him a blind accessible chessboard a few months prior, you had been on a search to make life as easy as possible for Matt in the comfort of his own home.

It hadn’t taken long after you became friends, before you were even dating to notice that for Matt, things having a specific place to sit was very important for him to be able to tell where they were and what was what. But the problem was, that even with his best efforts, it was too easy for things to get a little mixed up, especially in the kitchen and especially after you moved in with him. It wasn’t just his things anymore, they were accompanied by your things too and that made it harder for Matt to tell quickly what was what.

Which is why, as you came home one afternoon with Matt and several bags of food shopping, you had to suppress the squeal of excitement at the sight of a brown package inside of the mailbox.

“What did you order, sweetheart?” Matt asked, setting down the bags of food on the kitchen floor. “A little surprise.” You replied, prying it open with great difficulty. “For me?” “For you.” You confirmed, watching as his cocky little smirk appeared on his lips. “Ooh for me.” “It’s not lingerie Matthew.” You quipped, snorting as your boyfriend gasped and brought his hand to his chest in false disappointment. “Then what is it?” He asked, sidling up to you. “It’s a– ah hold on,” you grappled with the packaging before finally wrangling it free and plopped the device into his hands. “Ta da! A braille label maker, so we don’t get our stuff mixed up ever again.” You grinned up at him, waiting for his reaction.

Matt held it in his hands for a moment, feeling the different edges and textures, a smile growing on his lips as he turned to face you. He didn’t ask how it worked, nor did you feel you had to explain, because after a few moments of turning it over in his hands and exploring the shape of the dial, the feel of the braille letters and the pointer on the label maker, Matt knew exactly how to use it.

His smile, soft and sweet, turned into a devilish grin as he turned the dial and squeezed the trigger to indent the label tape until he successfully pulled free the label, peeled off the sticky back and stuck it to your boob. Matt had labelled you “girlfriend” and giggled far too much about it before getting genuinely quite excited to label his cereal and coffee and face wash and just about everything he could think of that did or did not need a label to be identified.

As his joyful chaos ensued, you sat back watching him with his new label maker, going from pure chaos and labelling everything down to the dog, to the two of you carefully labelling all of your groceries before putting them all away in the cupboards and the fridge. And when all of the bags were empty and everything was sufficiently labelled, Matt pulled you close.

“You’re way too sweet to me.” He spoke softly, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead. “Way too good to be mine.” Matt kissed you, lips soft against yours, his touch warm and gentle and sweet until– something cold and sticky was pressed against your neck and you couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. Feeling over the little braille label, you giggled before being captured in a kiss that mirrored the word exactly. Mine.

@megantje123 @hallecarey1 @reyhanahasanli @louderfortheback @spikedhe4rt @myguiltypleasures21 @emiemiemiii @scaramood @lovingrobertfloyd @m0nster-fvcker @rexit-mo

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #matthew murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x y/n #daredevil x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fem!reader #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock drabble

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super-marvel-dc · 1 year

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Frank: Why are Y/n and Matt sitting with their backs to each other?

Foggy: They had a fight.

Frank: Then why are they holding hands?

Foggy: They get sad when they fight.

#source: ???#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #daredevil x reader #daredevil x y/n #daredevil x you #daredevil #frank castle #the punisher #foggy nelson #incorrect daredevil quotes #daredevil incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #marvel incorrect quotes #marvel #incorrect quotes

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elixirfromthestars · 10 months

Text

Staring Right Through Me

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Nurse!Reader

Summary: After getting caught in the crossfires of the dangers in Hell's Kitchen, Matt decided to teach you how to defend yourself.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning(s): mentions of past injuries / fighting techniques / fluff / slightly suggestive tones

requested by anonymous

a/n: this is request #1 of my birthday bingo celebration!! ❤️❤️❤️ The original post of the birthday bingo card can be found here. Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! 💗💕

birthday bingo masterlist 🩵 // main masterlist 🤍

“Matt? Are you in here?” Your voice echoed across the seemingly empty boxing gym. You closed the door behind you hesitantly, unsure if you were even allowed to be here during such late hours. Matt made it clear it was perfectly fine, and since all your shifts at the hospital ran into the night, this was the most convenient time for Matt to teach you some basics in self-defense.

You knew of the dangers plaguing Hell’s Kitchen, and working in the emergency room at Metro-General Hospital you saw the consequences of those dangers every day. It wasn’t until last week that you yourself were caught in the crossfires of such dangers. You shuddered at the memory, knowing that if it weren’t for Matt or rather Daredevil, you might not be standing here right now.

“Matt?” You called out again, your voice a little louder this time. You heard a shuffling sound in return, “Y/n, over here. I’m just getting this bag set up.” Matt’s voice perked up from behind the boxing ring. You followed the sound and found Matt setting up a separate punching bag from one that was already hanging from the ceiling.

“We’ll start you off with this one, it's made for beginners so it's lighter than that one,” Matt explained as you placed your tote bag on the ground by the boxing ring. You tried getting a good look at him, but the lights in the gym were so spotty it was hard to make out any details from where you both stood.

“ Got it. So, what are you teaching me today, Mr.Murdock?” You asked, saying his last name in a playful manner. This brought a smile to his face, “ We’ll start with the basics today by teaching you how to throw a proper punch.” You mocked offense at the implication of his words, stepping closer to him, “ Hey, I’ll remind you I knocked out a guy with a punch last week.” You pointed out. Matt stepped closer to you too, coming into the light, giving you a better look at him.

He was shirtless, his upper body glistening with sweat. A pair of sweatpants was the only piece of clothing on his body. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, so it was obvious he had gotten in a workout prior to your arrival. You had seen Matt shirtless countless times before, as you frequently treated his vigilante wounds, however, this time in the solitude of the dim gym, something felt different.

You felt different.

“ You did, but you also injured yourself in the process,” he reminded you, taking your right hand into his. He gently ran his thumb over your knuckles which still had a purplish hue to them. You stared at the gesture, a warm feeling settling in your heart.

“ I’m okay, though. I promise. I had it x-rayed and everything. No broken bones, just a few bruises,” you flipped his hand over and placed your own above his and gave it a few squeezes so he could feel how perfectly fine your hand was. His worried features softened.

“ I want you to know that even though I’m teaching you how to defend yourself, I’m still keeping my promise,” he stated, his tone determined.

The promise to keep you safe. One he made many months ago when you first started patching up his injuries. The catalyst to establishing a beautiful friendship.

You smiled fondly at the memory,” I know you will.”

You hoped Matt wasn’t using his heightened senses right now. If he was then he would be able to hear how fast your heart was beating and sense how jittery you were at the proximity of your bodies. Even so, you didn’t need any sort of superhuman abilities to sense the intensity of the tension in the room.

Your eyes darted around for a fan, suddenly feeling a little faint.

You cleared your throat to compose yourself, “So. . .to throw a proper punch. What do I need to do?” You moved the direction of the conversation back to the purpose of tonight’s rendezvous. If Matt could sense your nervousness, he didn’t say anything and instead followed your lead.

“ First, you need to start with a proper fist,” he instructed, using both of his hands to fix your fingers into a fist. “ I could tell you knew how to position your thumb and pinky, but you need to work on the tightness of your fist and making sure you lock it in with your wrist.” He showed you by making a fist of his own.

He continued on, giving you pointers until he was sure your fist was in proper form. He did this by continuously having you punch the palm of his hands to feel the progression of your punches.

From there he moved on to posture. He showed you his own stances, and using the heavier punching bag he threw a few to show you what the entire body was supposed to look like. Once it was your turn, you tried your best with the lighter punching bag, but you could tell something was off about your stance.

“ Your fists are too low. You want to keep them level with your cheeks to make sure your face is protected,” he came over to you and moved your arms a little higher. “ Make sure your elbows stay slightly bent too,” he touched both of your elbows and moved them into a slightly angled position,” There. Now try again and take a deep breath. You’re going to cut off the circulation in your fingers if you’re too tense,” he advised.

You stood there frozen for a second. The entire time he had helped you with your stance you were holding your breath. You were suddenly aware of just how much Matt could actually see. You knew his heightened senses had to be extraordinary to be able to fight like he did, but right now being the sole object of those senses made you feel almost naked in front of him. There were things Matt could sense and figure out that no one else could. You felt like he was staring right through you into your soul where all your secrets lay hidden.

Like the one where you absolutely and irrevocably had feelings for him.

You did as he said and took in a deep breath trying your best to relax your shoulders and relieve some of the tension your body was holding onto. You didn’t need any of your secrets revealed tonight.

You continued to assault the punching bag, adjusting anything Matt told you to. Unfortunately for you, the more he helped you, the more focus you lost. All of his touches on your body were lingering and leaving the desire for more. Your heart had skipped a beat way too many times you were almost convinced it would stop eventually.

It didn’t help when he would demonstrate proper form over and over and all you could stare at is the way his muscles would flex with every hit. There was so much power and confidence in the way he went about it that made him a hundred times more attractive in your eyes. You weren’t sure how many sessions of self-defense Matt had planned to give you, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your feelings hidden for long when he was so close.

“ You almost got it. Your defensive position needs to complement your stance. Your legs should be an inch farther apart and your hips should be more like this,” his hands landed lightly on both sides of your hips causing a tiny gasp to escape your lips. There was no way he didn’t hear that.

“ Everything okay?” He asked concerned, his face mere inches from your own.

“Sorry, I can’t focus when you look at me like that,” you confessed, tired of fighting your own emotions. The attention he was giving you had become too much to handle.

He frowned, confusion etching his features, ” Like what?”

“ Like that—” you stepped away from his touch,” like with all your heightened senses. It’s like you can tell, like you know—”

“ Like I know what?” His tone indicated he was catching on to what you meant.

Silence followed his question.

“ Like I know what?” He repeated himself, enunciating every word while closing the gap between you once more.

“ The effect you have on me,” your voice was reduced to a whisper, but you knew he could hear you.

It was his turn to freeze in his spot, the dots connecting in his head.

“ I understand. You’ve had that same effect on me since the moment I met you.” It was his turn to confess. You looked at him surprised, his words giving your emotions permission to run wild once more.

He grabbed your hand and placed it on top of his chest, right where his heart was. You felt how fast it was racing beneath your fingertips. You weren’t sure whose heart was more uncontrollable—yours or his.

“Matt. . .” your voice trailed off not knowing what to say. What was the right thing to say in a moment like this?

Apparently, nothing said could come close to explaining the emotions that were lying within your hearts. However, actions tend to speak louder than words, so all Matt could think to do was kiss you.

It seemed you had the same idea, as you both leaned in for a kiss at the same time. You were unprepared for how quickly the intensity of the kiss grew. Soon you were plopped up on the base of the boxing ring, Matt standing in between your legs as one kiss grew into dozens. You were both insatiable for each other, with each kiss causing the yearning for one another to become uncontainable.

“ I think that’s a wrap for today’s lesson,” Matt suggested, pulling away to catch his breath, his hands resting on your hips. You untangled your hands from his hair and rested them on his shoulders instead, “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” A shaky laugh escaped you, as you caught your breath as well.

He rested his forehead against yours,“ I know we should go, but I really don't want to.” You placed a quick peck on his sappy smile,“ I don’t want to either, but you have a case to continue tomorrow and I have a shift to attend.” You reminded him even though you were extremely tempted to call off work in the morning.

“ Just one more kiss then?” He requested with the sweetest look on his face.

There was no way you could say no,“ Just one more.”

With that said, you went back to kiss him one more time confirming what you had thought previously. There was no way you could’ve hidden your feelings from Matt for long.

You were genuinely happy you couldn’t.

#birthday bingo celebration #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil x reader #daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #daredevil x y/n #daredevil x you #matt murdock fluff #daredevil fluff #matt murdock oneshot #daredevil oneshot #matt murdock x you

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multi-fandom-imagine · 8 months

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I gotta write something for Matt Murdock, he’s so hot!

This one:

Or this one

#matt murdock #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil x y/n #marvel #marvel comics #mcu #marvel x you #marvel x reader

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amhrosina · 1 year

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Light My Love (Matt Murdock x Reader)

MASTERLIST // TAG LIST REQUEST

A/N: I tweaked the request just a bit, but I think I like how it came out! Thanks for requesting, nonnie! Also, I'm realizing that I need to write more happy Matt lmfao all i write for him is angst and this poor man just needs to be HAPPY!

Request: could you do a fic where reader gets hurt from matt’s work and he keeps blaming himself and reader comforts him?

Summary: Matt is in serious need of comfort when he blames himself for your injuries. (Someone pls hug this man he NEEEEEDS it)

(Warnings: angst (what’s new lmfao), some mentions of violence, matt leans heavy into self-hatred in this one, fluffy matt, matt makes pancakes at the end lol)

The drip from the leaky faucet in the corner of your cell was beginning to grate on your nerves. You’d already tried everything to get it to stop – slamming your shoe on it repeatedly, twisting the handles all the way around, trying to pull the entire thing from the wall. It was no use. The water kept coming, and you kept waiting for it to stop.

It had been two days since you’d last seen Matt – two days since you’d interfered with his mission and gotten yourself kidnapped by some low-level cartel members. Your stomach hadn’t stopped rumbling, and the little sleep you had been able to get was restless.

The guys who kidnapped you weren’t particularly interested in you. They had thrown you in the windowless cell and mostly ignored you since then, but you could hear them moving around on the floor above you at all hours of the day. You had to give them credit – they might be idiots, but they were observant enough to recognize that Daredevil cared about you. That’s why they grabbed you, and that’s why you were kicking yourself for getting involved in Matt’s business.

You hadn’t really been trying to get involved. Truly. Matt may be a hot mess, but he was always on time, and when he never showed up for your dinner date, you got worried. A gnawing concern ate at your stomach as you walked around Hell’s Kitchen searching for any sign of him. The next thing you knew, a knife was being held to your throat and Matt was being beaten into the concrete in front of you.

You had distracted him, and it had gotten both of you hurt. Or killed. You didn’t know where Matt was. You tried not to think about it – the idea that your life partner could be dead because of your mistake. Instead, you focused on the pattern the goons in the room upstairs were making on the ceiling.

Three steps to the left, two forward, three to the right. Maybe they were dancing? You hadn’t been able to figure it out, but the pattern had grown to be a soothing white noise in the background of this living hell.

A thud on the ceiling startled you out of your lightheaded haze, followed shortly by the unmistakable scream of one of the men upstairs. The sounds that followed were as terrifying as they were relieving. He was here. You crawled to your feet, leaning on the wall for support and listening to the screams as they got closer and closer to you.

Your knees buckled as Matt’s broad frame kicked through the door. He was a sight to behold in his full Daredevil gear, crimson colored and scary as hell. You whimpered as he fell to his knees in front of you, one hand resting on your cheek while the other held your body weight up.

“Tell me you’re okay. Tell me they didn’t hurt you, sweetheart.” Matt’s voice cracked as he looked you over for injuries.

The lower half of Matt’s face, the part that was visible with the mask on, was covered in scruff. You could tell he hadn’t shaved since the last time he saw you. Probably hadn’t eaten or slept either. Tears finally began to stream down your cheeks. He was here, and he was breathing, and he was okay.

“Matty.” Your throat was dry and scratchy from the hours you had spent screaming at your captors, begging them to free you.

Matt lifted you in his arms, cradling you against his chest and walking out of the cell and towards the back of the building. The unconscious bodies in the hallway were enough to remind you how dangerous Matt could be when he let the devil out, but you weren’t afraid. You would never be afraid of Matt.

When Matt exited the building, you were expecting the sunlight to temporarily blind you, but it was almost as dark outside as it was in your dingy cell. You were about to ask Matt how far away from home you were when you realized he was headed directly towards a parked car around the corner.

Foggy jumped out of the driver’s seat, hurrying to open the back door so Matt could climb in with you.

“Is she okay?” he asked, swallowing thickly.

“She’s-” Matt’s voice was gruff, “She’s alive,” he finally said, leaning forward to climb into the car. He didn’t let go of you, even when he sat down and Foggy had pulled away from the curb. He just tightened his grip on you, pulling you even closer to his body. The ache to touch him grew in you tenfold when you realized how exhausted you both were. You lightly began tracing the bottom of the mask, tugging the material over Matt’s head.

He was always beautiful, but you could see the strain of the last few days in the way he hung his head low. His eyes, usually so pretty and full, were muted in color and half-lidded.

“Did you sleep at all while I was gone, my love?” You mumbled, scratching the scruff on his cheeks and chin.

“I had to find you. It wasn’t an option.” He bit out, trying to hide the groan crawling up his throat at your touch.

“I’m sorry I-” You started, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Don’t apologize,” Matt sounded distraught, “Why are you apologizing? It’s me who should be begging on my knees for your forgiveness.” A tear made its way down his cheek, falling onto your shoulder.

You furrowed your brow, glancing at Foggy, who was doing his very best to look like he wasn’t overhearing a very intimate conversation between his best friends.

“I don’t understand, Matty,” You finally responded, wiping under his eyes with your thumbs.

“I’m meant to protect you. That’s my job, and I failed. You got hurt, and it’s my fault, and I wouldn’t blame you if you left me the minute we get home. I am undeserving of anyone’s love, but most of all yours.”

Stunned silence filled the car. Matt’s eyes were squeezed shut, trying and failing to stop the overflow of tears falling down his face. Foggy’s expression was one of pure concentration as he navigated New York City traffic, but his frequent glances in the mirror read as a deep concern for his friend.

“Matty, hey, don’t do that. I’m the one that messed up. I followed you when I should’ve trusted that you would be okay. It was my fault, not yours.”

“Stop.” He gritted out, resting his head on the headrest behind him.

You fell silent, resting your head on his chest. He couldn’t be rational when he was this worked up, and you were so exhausted that you didn’t want to argue with him.

Foggy pulled around the back of Matt’s apartment building and you reached for Matt’s mask. Even though the clock on the dashboard said it was 3:42 in the morning, you couldn’t risk Matt being seen by anyone without his mask on. You pulled it onto his face, planting a soft kiss on his cheek when you were finished.

When Foggy opened the door, you moved to climb out yourself, but Matt wouldn’t let you budge. He climbed out, still holding you against his body.

“I’m not made of glass, ya know,” you said, scoffing at Matt’s unwillingness to let you go and then turning to Foggy, “Thank you, Foggy. We can talk...later?”

“Yeah, yep. Mhmm.” Foggy was looking between you and Matt, scrunching his eyebrows together in what you could only describe as a mix of confusion and concern. You smiled, nodding at him reassuringly even though dread was beginning to build in your gut.

Matt swiftly carried you through the apartment building, refusing to set you down until he had locked the door behind him with the deadbolt, and even then, he would only set you down on the couch.

As soon as he let you go, you jumped to your feet, immediately swaying with exhaustion. Matt sighed, pulling his mask off and shaking his head.

“How long has it been since you slept, sweetheart?” He asked, unbuttoning his suit and pulling the different pieces of it off one at a time.

“I don’t...” you started, trying to blink the exhaustion from your eyes, “I don’t know.”

He tugged on your hand, leading you to the bedroom, where you collapsed onto the bed with a sigh.

“Matty, the sheets.” You tried to push yourself off, not wanting to stain his sheets with the scent of that awful place, but he lightly pushed you back down.

“Don’t worry about them. Sleep, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss onto your forehead, resting his lips there for a few seconds longer than normal. You realized when he stood and didn’t move towards the door that he would continue standing there until you fell asleep.

Luckily for him, your eyes were on their way to closing whether you liked it or not, so you let the exhaustion wash over your body and drifted off to sleep almost immediately.

When you woke, you couldn’t figure out what day it was, or how much time had passed since you’d fallen asleep. The sheets had been changed, and you were wearing one of Matt’s big T-shirts. Matt was sitting on the other side of the bed, back pressed against the headboard. He was clean shaven and wearing new clothes, but he still looked exhausted.

“Did you sleep at all?” You asked, pushing your body into a sitting position. The soreness in your muscles startled you. You hadn’t noticed the stiffness earlier, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins was probably the only thing that kept you going for as long as you did. That, or you had been asleep for much longer than you realized.

“Some.” He responded, finally looking in your direction.

You crawled forward, swinging your leg over his hips so you could straddle him. It wasn’t a sexual movement, and Matt knew that. You had spent many mornings in this exact position, holding each other and talking about everything and nothing all at the same time. Matt’s hands brushed over your exposed thighs, settling on your waist.

“You shaved.” You pointed out, eyeing his expression. You hadn’t forgotten the conversation from the car, and you weren’t planning on moving until you and Matt had finished talking.

“You don’t remember?” he asked, tilting his head.

“I guess not.”

“A few hours after you fell asleep, you got up begging to take a shower. I changed the sheets and shaved while you did that.”

“Oh.” You mumbled. Your hands toyed with the hair at the nape of Matt’s neck.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Matt’s face had fallen so quickly that it broke your heart. He buried his head in your shoulder, wrapping you in a hug in the same motion. “I’m so, so sorry. Could you ever forgive me?”

“Matty,” you sighed, hugging him tightly, “There’s nothing to forgive. You saved me before anything really bad could happen.”

“What if I couldn’t find you? What if you died in that cell because I couldn’t make it in time?” He pressed his forehead against yours and let out a shuttering breath. He was seconds away from breaking completely.

“Baby, you did find me, and I’m okay. I only have a few bumps and bruises. You saved me, Matt.”

Matt’s face contorted into a mask of rage – not at you, but at himself.

“I promised I would protect you. That’s the most important promise I’ve ever made, even more than any promises I’ve ever made to God, and I broke it.” His voice cracked and he tightened his hold around you.

“Matty, you saved me. And you wouldn’t have had to protect me if I hadn’t gone looking for you. I knew you were working a dangerous case and I went anyways. This isn’t your fault, baby.”

Matt’s body shook as he cried into your shoulder. He was hugging you so tightly that not even God himself could’ve pried his fingers away from you. You couldn’t tell how much time was passing, but you didn’t mind. You kissed Matt’s hair, ran your hands up and down his back, and hugged him back just as tightly. You would do this forever if you had to.

When Matt finally righted himself and sat back, his eyes were swollen and red. You couldn’t help the kisses you placed on his eyelids. He just looked so pretty, and he always relaxed under your touch, so you leaned in, planting a kiss on his lips.

“I love you.” Matt whispered, squeezing your waist for emphasis.

“I love you, Matty.” You smiled, kissing him again. Your stomach loudly growled, and Matt gave you a small smile.

“You’re hungry, sweetheart.”

“I guess I am.” You giggled.

“Want some pancakes?” he asked, bringing his lips to yours again.

You suddenly looked around, trying to figure out what time of day it was.

“How long did I sleep for?” You finally asked after not being able to figure out if it was dawn or dusk.

“You slept most of the day away. It’s probably around 6 or 7 now.” Your stomach growled again.

“Then hell yes, I want some pancakes.” You jumped off Matt, tugging him out of bed with you. You pulled him in for another kiss. “But only if I get to see your pretty smile first.”

Matt’s grin melted your heart. It always did, but after what you both went through over the last few days, seeing him smile again was like rain after a drought.

“There it is.” You mumbled, matching his grin.

You could’ve sworn a blush crept up Matt’s neck, but you didn’t want to make him so embarrassed that he couldn’t make your pancakes, so instead of mentioning it, you pulled him towards the kitchen, squeezing his hand the entire way. He didn’t let go, even when you sat down to eat. Later, when his exhaustion finally caught up to him, you snuggled next to him in bed, refusing to let go of him for the rest of the night.

Tag List:

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grippingbeskar · 1 year

Text

strip poker

matt murdock x fem!reader

warnings: explicit content 18+ minors dni (mxf, dirty talk, honestly kind of tame if i’m honest) swearing, gambling?? idk it’s literally the title

a/n: i have been getting a few messages to write more matt so HERE IS ME FULFILLING THAT REQUEST! i’m so glad you guys liked the first one! hope you enjoy! also this gif is how i imagine him looking for the whole first part. fuxk he’s so hot anyways.

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“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. How is that even possible?” You shout, nearly spilling your beer on the already sticky table at Josie’s. You’d been playing poker in the shitty little set up at the back, a bunch of screwed up twenty dollar bills half heartedly thrown in as Matthew Murdock won yet another round.

“It’s unfair, really. Gets the looks and the brains. He either folds right away, or wins the whole game.” Foggy shakes his head, shoving Matt on the shoulder. “I lost a lotta money to this guy in college.”

“Yet you still play him.” Karen chucks her cards in the centre, watching Foggy re-shuffle the deck while Matt takes his winnings, shrugging.

“I didn’t say I learnt from it.”

“But how does that even…work? Because, you’re—well, you know…” You lean back, trying not to think about Matt’s attention, and how it had been on you the whole night. Especially now, as his fingers card through the new wad of cash in his hands, almost like he’s doing it just for you.

“Blind?” He smiles, and you make a noise of agreement while finishing off your beer. “I’m just very good at reading people.”

“Oh, I get it. You cheat, don’t you? Feel the fibres in the cards or whatever.” He scoffs, shaking his head.

“Feel the fibres?”

“Okay— well, it’s something like that, though. Isn’t it?” Even Foggy was interested now, snatching the deck that was now in the centre of the table. Matt shrugs again, hanging one arm around the empty chair next to him.

“I don’t cheat. Most people give away their hand as soon as they open their mouth. You just have to know the tell. Poker is just a waiting game.” He says it casually like winning every single poker game he’s ever played is the simplest thing in the world. “Plus, like you said. It’s not like I can look over your shoulder, can I? How would I cheat?”

“Well, whatever it is, I hope it fails, because I need to start paying off this tab if Josie’s gonna serve us anymore.” Foggy deals out the cards, and you watch Matt intently. He never even picks up his cards, just sits there with one hand wrapped around his beer, head turned in your direction. “Alright, Karen?”

“I’m out. I’m running out of money.” Foggy boo’s, and she laughs, sliding off her chair. “Maybe if my boss’ paid me more, I’d be in.”

“Okay, ouch.” Foggy pouts, but deals your cards, skipping over Karen’s empty seat. “Matthew, you start.”

“I’m in.” He smirks, his free hand lightly tracing around the edges of his face-down cards. “Your turn, sweetheart.”

“In.” You look at Foggy, and he sighs, pushing in his money as well.

“Last round. I’m all in.” All in doesn’t mean a lot to Foggy considering he’d only had about two chips and a one dollar bill left, but you and Matt still had a fair amount. Both of you match his bet, and he flips over another card. “Well, fuck.”

“See? Everyone’s got a tell.” Matt laughs and you roll your eyes. Foggy chucks his cards in the centre.

“Anyone could tell Foggy was gonna lose.”

“Hey! I had a fair chance about an hour ago.” Leaving both you and Matt laughing, he turns to go find Karen. “You two kids get home safe, okay?”

“I’ll look after her.” He says, his head still angled towards you. Your grip on the cards in your hand gets a little tighter, and he taps his finger on the table, asking you to flip another card. “Come on. You aren’t giving up yet, are you?”

“Definitely not.” You flip the last card, and it’s a King. The one you were looking for— you had a full house. A strong hand, but you didn’t want to give yourself away. You say nothing, remembering what Matt said earlier, and he smiles after a beat of silence.

“You aren’t talking to me now?” He teases, leaning over the table on his forearms to get a little closer to you. He smells like beer and cedar— a strange combination, but somehow intoxicating on him. “You know I’m gonna beat you anyways. No point in getting all quiet on me.”

“Shut up and make your bet, Murdock.” He’s still got that smirk on his face, the one that says he’s going to beat you before you’ve even put your cards down, and he matches your bet, sliding a few bills into the centre. “Showoff.”

“Just trying to impress you.” He was making it increasingly hard to keep a poker face, and you know he couldn’t see you but somehow it felt like he could see straight through you, like he knew how every one of his sweet words ate away at that feeble resistance you’d built up to try and keep him out. “You can fold if you need to. I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

“Does this whole act usually work for you? The girls eat this shit up, don’t they?” He shrugs, leaning back and leaving his still turned down cards on the table.

“Most of the time.” You push in double the amount of money he bet, and somehow he knows exactly how many, because before you’d even sat back he was matching the bet, smiling sweetly at you.

“How?!”

“How what?”

“How do you know you’ll win?” You lean forward and he moves too, mirroring you and nearly meeting your hands in the centre of the small table.

“I can’t give away all my secrets.” You roll your eyes and lay your cards face up on the table. He doesn’t so much as flinch, both your bodies still leaning towards each other.

This part of the bar was quiet and secluded, and you swear if you angled yourself just right no one would even be able to see you from here. The thought drove your brain to a whole lot of dirty thoughts you had been trying your best not to have about your literal boss, and you physically shook them away. When he spoke again, you had to squint to focus.

“Wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

“Oh, piss off. Let’s see what you have.” You deflect, holding out hope you could still make something of this game. Still smirking, he keeps his head angled towards you, reaching over and sliding his cards to you. You’re hesitant to take them, and he knows it.

“Help a guy out?” He reaches out to the wrong spot on the table, a clear ploy to get you to flip them for him. He was delaying this— dragging it out because it was fun to him, and as much as it sucked you were losing money, you’d probably empty your wallet if it kept him this close to you.

“I’m not falling for your helpless act. I’ve seen you in a court room.”

“Indulge me.” Deciding not to delay the process any longer, you flip them all over in one go.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” A royal-fucking-flush.

“What is it?” He says smiling, keeping as close to you as possible.

“A— you know what? I’m not even going to tell you.” He breathes out a laugh, leaning back finally, and it’s only when he’s sitting in his chair again that you manage to get your head screwed back on straight. “Now I’m really out of money.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Happens to the best of them.” You scoff. That’s the second time he’s called you that, and it seems to make you fidget in your seat more every time.

“Just means you have to cover the tab.”

“Don’t pout.” Instantly you steeled your face, and just as you were about to ask him exactly how he knew, he spoke again. “I tell you what— you want your money back, we can play a new game. All or nothing.”

“I feel like this is a trap.” He laughed, the sound drawing you in like some kind of siren song. You leaned forward again, reaching out for your money on the table, but he was faster, his own enveloping yours. His hands were rough and large, and you couldn’t peel your eyes away from how you practically disappeared underneath him.

“It’s not a game we can play here, though.” You swallow hard. You’d always flirted with Matt— it was easy, and honestly the best part of your day was seeing that playful smile, or even when his ears got a little pink when you got particularly close to whisper something about a case.

But this? He’s talking about leave a bar with him. On a Saturday night. To play a game. You chugged the rest of your beer, needing the liquid courage.

“Alright, Matthew. I’ll indulge you. What kind of game are you talking about?”

“Poker.” Laughing, you watch as he gets up from his chair and grabs his jacket, already resigned to the idea you were both leaving. Now.

“We are playing poker.”

“It’s not that kind of poker.” He’s right next to you now, edged between you and the chair cemented to the floor next to you. He was so close you had no choice but to lean into him, not that you could think of anything else you’d rather be doing.

“Not that kind of poker?” You say softly, and he hums. The sound vibrates through his chest, and you resist the urge to flutter your eyes close and just listen to him talk. Something about his voice has you floating on air, and it’s part of the reason he’s so hard to resist. He just never stops talking.

You jump slightly when you feel his hand brush against your shoulder. You were wearing a silk dress that hung off your shoulder, so he took his time, grazing along your soft skin. His fingers carded through your hair lightly, and to top it off, he brushed the hair back, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck, tilting your face upwards gently.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were suggesting something unprofessional, Mr. Murdock.” His face splits into another smile, but his hand drops from your skin. Instantly you feel colder without his touch.

“You tell me to go to Hell right now and I will. No hard feelings. You’re a good lawyer, and I won’t mess this up for you.” Now you understand why he stopped touching you. Matthew Murdock— self professed people reader, was unsure if he’d read this situation right. The thought occurred to you once to fuck with him a little, but when you looked up at him and saw how tight his jaw was, you melted a little. That tiny wall of resistance you’d built up was crumpled from the inside.

“And if I say I’m interested in this little game?”

“Then I’d say I’ll meet you outside. Balls in your court, princess.” He presses a light kiss to your cheek, and you nearly get dizzy from the gesture if you hadn’t seen him grab your money as well as his off the table before he disappears into the crowd.

You call after him, but all you get is a shrug and a laugh that is unmistakably his as he disappears into the crowd. You don’t move for a second— your heart screaming at you to get on your feet and follow him, but a small, stupid part of your brain tells you to not. He was your boss, after all, and you needed this job, but it was also Matt.

You knew he was a little bit of a lady killer— Karen and Foggy making a thousand jokes at his expense which he managed to laugh off. Even with clients he always managed to win the girls over with his charm, but as much as people talk about it, ever since you came around you haven’t seen him so much as flirt for more than a few minutes with anyone but you. Sure, you weren’t with him every second of every day, but between the late nights and weekends spent in his office to getting lunch and sometimes dinner on your days off, even Foggy had made a few passing comments about how he’d staved off women.

You didn’t have a leg to stand on to get jealous even if he did— but it made your heart stutter in his chest to think you had something to do with it. He was always showing up with an extra coffee for you, walking you home if you had to stay late, paying you endless compliments… and the way he spoke to you, teasing but never cruel, always making you laugh even when you hadn’t slept for 24 hours.

Really— your decision on whether to follow him out was made months ago when you first met him. The moment you saw that stupid smile and the first time he said your name; you nearly took the chair with you with how quick you jumped up to find him outside the bar.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I’ve never been to your place before.” You listen to the sound of Matt pouring you a glass of wine as you hang your head off the back of his couch. You have to squint to block out the streaming colour of light that shines through the giant windows; hues of pink and blue billboard warped from the rain that was coming down outside.

“It’s an acquired taste.” He taps your leg and you shift to sit up, him sitting close next to you handing you a glass. “You like red, right?”

“I drink anything as long as it’s free.”

“This one’s on me.” You laugh into your glass, taking a long sip and enjoying the burn that comes with it. It tastes expensive, and you expect nothing less from him. He’s facing you, one arm lazily hanging behind you on the couch, and your heart is racing even without the wine.

“So, did you really invite me up here for a game of poker, or was that just a ploy to get in my pants?” His laugh fills the quiet apartment, and he leans forward to pull out a drawer, his hand reappearing with a deck of cards.

“I never say no to a pretty girl in my apartment, but if you want your money back, you’re going to have to play me for it.” You snatch the cards from him, shuffling them dramatically.

“And tell me why, exactly, we couldn’t play this all important game in the bar?” You watch him carefully, how you always do when your alone, and you see his tell tale sign. The slightest hint of red on his cheeks, just at your question. “Matthew?”

“You’re out of money, but we’re still playing poker. What do you think we’re betting?” Now you were the one blushing.

“So this really was a ploy to get in my pants.” You try to sound nonchalant, confident like he always manages to come across as, but your voice shakes a little at the end of your sentence, and you were still shuffling the cards even though they were way past ready. You quickly put them on the table and down the rest of your wine.

“Can you blame me?” He asks lowly, and you cross your legs, ignoring the heat that grows in your stomach. “Listen, you know I love these games we play, but I don’t want you to—“

“If you’re bitching out now, I can take the money in credit or cheque, too.” He stops talking, mouth open a little, and scoffs out a laugh. The last thing you wanted him to do was think you weren’t a hundred and ten percent here for whatever he wanted to do with you. To you. Shit— that wine was going straight to your head.

“Alright, you asked for it. I was gonna go easy on you, but…”He sighs and shakes his head, and you roll your eyes, dealing the cards.

“Sure you were. Pick up the cards this time.” You all but shove them in his hands, and he takes his time pulling away from you, smiling like he could feel your pulse through the small touch and knew how much he affected you.

Looking at your cards, you tried to see a way to win with what was on the table. You had nothing, really, but he didn’t know that, and you still had a chance. Besides, if he wanted to play that kind of poker, you were positive you wouldn’t have to rely on the cards to distract him. If you could keep your thoughts under control.

“It’s a real shame you aren’t going to win, you know.” You bait him, and his head tilts up from where he was pretending to be looking at his cards.

“And why is that?” You shift in your seat at his voice. Again.

“Well, I dressed up all pretty for tonight.” You flip over the next card on the table, and suck in a breath. “And it’s just a shame you won’t get to experience that.”

“You know the point of this game isn’t to keep your clothes on. No matter how pretty you are in that dress.” He flips over the final card, and you bite down on your lower lip. You have nothing. Nada.

“Exactly, but the best part of my outfit isn’t the dress. It’s what I’m wearing underneath.” His eyes close, and you watch as he sighs and lets his head fall back.

“Can’t believe I was going to take it easy on you, sweet thing.” You can’t stop the grin on your face as he looks up at you like he’s in legitimate pain. “Play your cards.”

“Ohh, so serious now!” He manages a small ‘hm’ and although you were joking, he doesn’t seem so playful anymore. The look on his face was more akin to what he was like in court— focused and ready to win at all costs. “Don’t pout.”

“You’re bluffing, aren’t you?” He says, and you feel his hand on your opposite shoulder, the arm laying around the back of your couch sneaking closer while you were distracted. You shuffle slightly closer, allowing him the space.

“I thought you knew everyone’s tells.”

“You’re a little harder to read than most, I’ll admit it.” You make a noise in surprise, but he just shakes his head. “That doesn’t mean I won’t take you apart just as easily.”

“Guess you’ll have to play your cards to find out. Unless you want to fold?” He laughs, breaking up the tension just a little, and while you two were inches away from each other, he tosses his cards half heartedly onto the table, face up.

“How’d I do?” He leans closer, taking the extra space when you turn your head. You feel every word he speaks on your skin, lips not even an inch away from being on you. You could hardly keep your eyes open, let alone focus on the cards.

“I think you win this round.” You manage, shakily exhaling as you practically feel his smile on your neck. The hand that was around the back of the couch leaves you completely, while the other slowly creeps up the bare skin of your arm, making you shiver. “Th-three sixes against a four of a kind.”

“Hmm. Unlucky.” Shallow breaths were the only ones you could take with him this close. Gentle fingers find the soft material of the strap of your dress, hooking under it loosely. You told yourself you didn’t wear this dress for him— but you knew how it would feel. Silky and smooth against your skin, if he couldn’t see how good you looked in this dress, he would damn well feel it.

He slowly drops the strap down your shoulder, then the other hand encourages the other side down. You use your arms to keep the dress up, making him work for it a little, but as soon as he tugs lightly at the hem you let the dress fall over your breasts.

Matt’s hands feel the lace of your bra, lingering a little longer than he had to. Then he flattens his palms on either side of your rib cage, pulling the dress lower. He feels every curve and ridge on your body, and you can’t take your eyes off his face. He was enamoured— completely lost in the feeling, so much so that his eyes were shut tightly, even the light was taking too much away from the sensation.

“Matt, hurry u—“

“Shh. Let me enjoy my prize.” He finally leans closer, a soft kiss to your collarbone nearly melting you into the couch.

His hands reach your hip, and then get a little more aggressive, fisting the soft material and pulling rather than guiding. You shimmy your hips and let him drag it down your thighs. He seems reluctant to move past the faint excuse for underwear you were wearing, but eventually the dress falls to the floor, and he sighs.

“You were right.”

“About what?” His hand catches your chin, thumb pressing on your bottom lip lightly.

“You are even prettier like this.” Your knuckles were going white with how hard they were trying to stay at your sides, but now you were half naked, and he hadn’t so much as taken his jacket off.

“You think so?”

“I fucking know so. And these—“ The hand on holding your face to his is still on your hip, and one finger hooks under the lace. “—these for me?”

“You haven’t won that yet.” He presses his forehead to yours and groans, and then leans back, but doesn’t go too far. “Your turn to deal.”

“Fine.” He frowns like a little kid who just got told he can’t have ice cream, and quickly swipes up the cards. It’s only then that you notice these ones— his personal set, have braille on them.

“You can read these ones.” You say, and he nods.

“This game is much more important.” Biting your lip so hard it’s probably bleeding, you watch his talented hands quickly sort and deal the cards. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m cheating.”

“You’re so funny.” You squint, and he smiles.

This round is much faster. He’s clearly in no mood to fuck around anymore, and makes every opportunity to touch you now you’re sitting in front of him in nothing but a few strands of lace. In front of anyone else, you think you’d feel insecure, or at the very least cold, but with the way he’s acting like he’s starving for you— it has enough heat in that look to warm you for an entire winter.

You actually have a good hand this time, and to your surprise, you win. Your Aces beat his fours, and he takes off his jacket.

“That is hardly fair.”

“Are you trying to get me to take my clothes off? Because that is entirely unprofessional.” You want to laugh, but what you want more is to tear off the buttons on his shirt and— “Your cards, sweetheart.”

“So, are you going to tell me how you know you’ll win?” You take them quickly, trying to ignore how you missed him reshuffling the deck completely because you were too lost in your thoughts of fucking him right here, right now. What else was going to happen here, though? It was the anticipation that was driving you wild— the inevitable burn of what was months in the making.

“You really want to know?”

“Please.” He smiles again, flicking through his cards.

“I can hear your heartbeat.” You laugh, and he faces you again.

“You’re kidding.”

“It gets faster when you’re winning.” You look down at your cards— another solid hand, and you think he might of had something to do with that.

“I don’t think th—“

“It’s getting faster.” He leans closer again, tilting his head like he could actually hear you internally losing your shit. He was right— it was getting faster, but it had nothing to do with the cards. “You have a good hand, don’t you?”

“Maybe?” He laughs, and his hand touches yours. You watch as his hands— the hands you’ve spent way too many hours looking at, and they read your cards.

“Shit. I’m starting to think you might be cheating.” He starts unbuttoning his shirt, but your hands reach out, stopping him.

“My turn.” Keeping your hands on top of his, you relish in his surprised expression as you swing your leg over him. He all but gasps when you sit your weight down fully, the underwear hiding nothing from him or you as you press yourself against him.

Your fingers are as soft as his were, moving his tie to the side while you slowly undo each little button. When a new one opens, more of him is revealed, and every inch of unexplored skin has you nearly panting. Not to mention the way he’s holding you, his hands roaming the bare skin of your back and hips to pull you closer.

When you finally reach the bottom of his shirt, you nearly rip at it trying to remove it, but Matt takes it from you and slips out of it within a second, throwing it away somewhere behind you. Your hands are gentle as they slide up his chest, trying your best to avoid the scars that might still be painful. You had no idea he had so many scars— the image of him shirtless is even more alluring now.

“I don’t want to play games anymore.” You whisper, and his hand is already tangled in your hair when you finish, hauling your lips to his in a hungry kiss. Its fiery and hot, everything burning at once. You wrap your arms around his head and in one motion he stands, a small squeak of surprise coming from you as your legs wrap around his torso.

You couldn’t stop obsessing over the feeling of his skin on yours, the way he felt so warm against you; how his hands were rough and gentle at the same time, grabbing and pulling at any part of you they could find purchase. Eventually he stopped moving and your world fell backwards, landing on soft sheets and being encased by Matthew Murdock.

“Matty…” You whine into his mouth and he hums against you, his tongue opening you up, taking control of every single breath you take. Your eyes flutter open when he moves lower, kissing your jaw, and you inhale sharply when his teeth bite lightly at the sensitive spot on your neck. It felt electric, almost, the way he followed the harsher touch with gentle kisses and soothing hands.

“Fuck, you liked that? My sweet little fucking thing. Thought about this every day.” He groaned the confessions against your skin, leaving you helpless to do anything but moan and squirm underneath him. You were at his mercy, and you were pretty sure if he didn’t fuck you soon you’d implode. “You’re beautiful. Beautiful.”

His hand slips from your side down between your bodies, quickly finding the spot between your legs that has you nearly screaming his name in the first ten seconds.

“Oh God, more—please.” You beg shamelessly, rolling your hips into his hand as he takes his time drawing slow, firm circles on your clit. His other hand holds your hips down, making you whine in protest.

“I know, baby. Feels good?” You nod quickly, eyes squeezed shut.

“I need you—“

“You’re so fucking pretty like this. You want me to take these off? Have I won these yet?” He whispers, that casual confidence thick in his low tone.

“Anything you want. You w-win.” He tugs at the now ruined fabric, and you practically beg him to get rid of them, a mixture of ‘pleases’ and ‘yes’ in high pitched tones must convince him. He quickly slides them over your knees before his hand returns to your clit, making your legs shake with how close you are. He had you on the edge with just one of his talented fucking hands— but then he drops down, shoulders forcing your legs apart and buries his face in you. You hardly have time to realise what’s happening before your hands are threaded through his hair and your hips are fighting in his hold to stay still.

“Fuck, Matt!” You scream, and he only wraps himself further to you, hooking his arms under your thighs and holding you on him. When he takes your clit in his mouth you lose all sense of reality, and are shoved towards the edge of consciousness, white hot pleasure stripping you bare. “God—“

“You taste so fucking sweet— cum for me. I want to hear you say my name like that again” He murmurs into you before going back to driving you into the hardest release you’ve ever felt build before.

“Matt. Matt—“He holds you so tight you couldn’t squirm away if you tried, and when your orgasm washes over you, you all but drown in it. Electricity shoots up your spine and your back arches, hands gripping Matt’s hair hard enough that you feel him groan into you at the feeling.

“Harder.” He moans into you, and you were still so lost in your own pleasure that you couldn’t do anything but obey— nearly yanking him upwards, but he just moans again and takes everything you give him.

He only drags himself away when you jolt at his touch, kissing his way up your stomach, chest, and this time when he gets to the fabric of your bra he lingers longer, taking his time to enjoy the feel of the lace under his fingers. When he starts kissing your neck, leaving a multitude of hickeys you’ll never be able to hide in the morning, you notice at some point he’d taken the rest of his clothes off.

His hips slot between yours and he’s fucking hard— the feeling of him pressed against you makes you gasp. He was bigger than you’d expected, and every so often his hips would move slowly, running the length of him through your wet folds making you whimper into his mouth again.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His voice was gravelly and layered with restraint— hands gliding up and down your side, grounding you.

“Perfect, Matty. Please…” He kisses you again, gentle and sweet, nodding as he slides himself into you. You gasp into each others mouths at the feeling, and he pulls back, watching your expression melt from a little bit of pain as he waits and kisses you, to pleasure, taking the hint of your nails in his shoulders to start moving slowly.

“Oh, fuckfuckfuck— so fucking good. Jesus Christ.” He moans in your ear and you shiver. It was always his voice that drove you crazy, but hearing it now, so broken and not put together like he always is. The words hit you in the chest, pleasure blooming in every single one of your veins, overtaking every part of your body. “So tight.”

“Right there. Harder, please Matt. Please…” He holds you tighter as he does what you ask, and your whimpers turn into screams as he fucks you into the mattress without another thought. Your eyes must roll back or close because you lose the sight of his face, but all you need is to hear him.

“Good girl. Good..fucking…girl.” Hearing the way he says your name, all drawn out and heavy— how he whispered how he wanted to fuck you for days, how he thought about ducking you at your desk for just as long as you secretly did. Everything about him, mixed with the brutal pace he fucked you with hurtled you into another wave of pleasure, screaming his name so loud there’s no way the rest of Hell’s kitchen didn’t know exactly who was making you feel this good.

“There you go, baby. Gonna…fuck— gonna cum. Sweet fucking thing.” His hips stuttered and you were still cumming, every word spurring you further out of your mind.

“Give it to me, please please please—“ He buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you felt the warmth of his release on your stomach and thighs. He was still breathing praises into your skin even after he pulled out, wrapping you into his body, not caring about the mess you had both made. He couldn’t find the care to let you go.

When you had both finally caught your breath, he dropped beside you, curling your body to fit perfectly against the front of his. His hand tangled in your hair, lips pressing to your forehead and cheek as he used his own shirt to clean you both off gently. You were both far too lost in each others mouths to do it properly, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck. You’d gladly spend the rest of your days losing hours in Matt Murdocks mouth.

“Stay tonight.” He whispers, voice cracking.

“Only if you admit I won.” You can feel him smiling against your skin, the sensation sending a different kind of warmth all the way down your spine.

“Yeah. You win.”

#matthew murdock x y/n #matthew murdock x you #matthew murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #daredevil x y/n #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil smut #matthew murdock smut #daredevil #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fan fiction #daredevil fanfiction

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 1 year

Text

COMFORT- M. MURDOCK

Pairing: Boyfriend! Matt x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 850

Summary: matt helps comfort you during a panic attack

Warnings: panic attack, anxiety, sensory issues, mentions of getting sick, praise, lots of fluff

Notes: i wrote this while having airport/ airplane anxiety this morning, as i woke up bright n early so i had a lot of time to think. then my flight got cancelled, rebooked, then cancelled again. so im stuck here till tomorrow :) (i want to cry. also airport wifi sucks so bad btw)

He could hear your heartbeat miles away.

Fast.

Thrumming so hard it was as if it was a motor engine, constantly revving but instead of speeding off into the night- it sputtered.

Your breaths were fast. Irregular. Panting raggedly, as if you were a dog.

Hands clutched to your knees, a steady creaking against the old hardwood as you rocked yourself in a ball on the floor.

The two of you left for the airport in less than an hour. Matt had taken care of all the flights, him and Foggy triple-checking everything to make sure everything was booked, purchased and on time. Luggage was packed for your little getaway planned in Central America, zipped up tightly waiting by the door.

But you remained put on the floor, feeling the grooves of your long nails dig into your skin, pinching little crescent moon shapes as your lungs struggled for air.

“Sweetheart?” he called from the doorway, shaking the rain from his coat off as he hung it up to dry.

No response.

Your tongue felt like millions of weights were pulling it down, inflaming it so you were unable to speak. Nothing but dry saliva coated your mouth like a thick paste.

“What's going on love? Can you explain how you’re feeling?”

He knew there was no point asking whether or not you were okay when clearly- you weren't. You were having a panic attack, something that you got very often. Changes in your routine tended to set it off, or things like big crowds or loud noises.

Matt knew your mind was racing with endless possibilities of what could go wrong. You had expressed them to him last week.

What if we miss our flight? Or there is too many people and I’m trapped? Or I feel sick and have nowhere to go? Matthew what if our flight gets cancelled? Or the gates? There's going to be so many people there, all so stressed and non-self aware.

Something was wrong when you called him Matthew instead of Matty. That was always the first indicator he picked up on.

“‘m just anxious.” you whispered softly, voice low and rough as if you had just discovered you could talk for the first time. He softly padded over to a window, opening it just a smidge so fresh air could sneak through the crack, and the sound of the rain pattering against the glass was amplified.

“Can I touch you sweetheart?” he asked politely, crouching down next to you.

You nodded.

Warmth spread through your body as his large arms wrapped around your body, shielding you from the outside world. “Okay. Let's just breathe together okay? Just follow with me.”

He took a deep inhale through his nose, to which you shakily followed. A deep exhale escaped from your lips as you followed the rise and fall of his chest, breathing in his comforting smell as your fingers made there way to twist and tangle in the fabric of his shirt.

“Thats it, atta girl. You're doing such a good job!” he praised, letting you cling to him as you slowed down your breathing- expanding your lungs again.

“We’re going to take this one step at a time okay? It’s going to be okay, I’m never going to leave your side. Security is the scary part. Then we just wait in a quiet part until we get on the plane. And it’s just a two hour flight, and you've done much longer car rides than that.”

“But what if I’m sick?” you asked timidly.

“Then we’ll deal with it when it happens. We’ll scout out all the washrooms and there is one on the plane sweetheart. I’ll hold your hair back I promise.” he joked, making you sniffle as you giggled.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Let’s just get some water into you, and we can get your headphones and fuzzy sweater for you to wear. It’s going to be just fine angel.” he kissed the top of your forehead, stroking your cheeks with his thumb, the callouses on the flesh of his fingertips bringing you a sense of comfort.

You watched through slightly clouded vision as he swiftly went over to pour you some water from the Britta you nagged him to buy, and you heard the pills rattle from the bottle as he dropped a gravol or two in his hand.

“I’m tired.” you murmured. Your thumbs were bleeding, and you felt the sticky blood smear as you tried to stop it.

“I know baby. You can sleep soon. I promise.” he assured, coaxing water down to quell your thirstiness as you swallowed the ginger pill.

“I need my headphones.” you said, attempting to find your balance as you wobbled up to your feet.

“I have them here sweetheart.” he smiled, grabbing them from the luggage- leaving them out for you just in case. Siding them over your head, the world was slightly muffled and you exhaled.

It was quiet. It would be quiet. And you could do this.

“Ready?” he asked. “Ready.”

“Good, cause we have sunshine and margaritas waiting for us.”

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fic #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil fic #daredevil fluff #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil x y/n #charlie cox

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cellophaine · 7 months

Text

Sad Girl (Part II)

Read Part I

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, not a happy ending.

Author's Note: Sooo, I severely overestimated how much free time I would have, and as it turns out, I have had not a lot and will have none free time for the next three weeks. My irl project is quite literally consuming me on top of the packing for an across the globe trip, so I won't be able to work actively on any writing project at all 🥲 I will be back to writing and posting in late fall/early winter! (hopefully)

P/S: I might write a part 3 to make up for the angst but uhm ... please don't come for me over the ending 🫣

GIF Credit

Judging by the sound of people and traffic outside, Matt knew he had slept in. Not that it mattered since it was a Saturday, and he had nowhere to be, especially after a night of going all out on a celebration with Foggy and Karen on the occasion of winning a big case for their client. With the new bonus lined in their pockets, Foggy gave a passionate speech about the grand plan of upgrading the office; Karen daydreamed about a proper heater for the upcoming winter while Matt zoned out, occasionally chiming in with a witty remark. He didn't enjoy his win as much as he should, as a part of him wished he could see you and tell you about it instead. He knew you would be happy for him and listen to every detail, just like you did whenever he told you about his day, when he wasn't in a hurry to leave.

The talking clock announced the time and date, and as Matt shifted back to the bed, a thought struck him. It had been three months since his last illicit affair with you. Matt sighed, pressing his face into the pillow at the thought of you. He had been thinking about you more and more every day. Matt blamed it on his coming to the acceptance that what you and he shared had long dissolved into thin air, becoming something that never was before you met. But the history was still there, at least for him. It didn't get to disappear. It stayed in his head, haunting him like a shadow at the edge of his conscience, waiting for a chance to occupy his thoughts whenever he found his mind strayed, and if he had to admit it, he didn't want to let it go. Matt replayed the last night he spent with you over and over, prying for little details of what had gone wrong, only to come up with none. You were curt with him, and the rebuttal he came up with was you were tired. You even said it yourself. Matt left you alone that night after that, and he even made sure that the two of you were okay. But he guessed it wasn't enough, as you completely shut him out afterward.

From time to time, Matt would stop by your place to check on you, to see if the wind chime returned, only to be disappointed by its absence. He would perch on the rooftop of your building, listening to the sound of your soft laugh alongside your favourite show. Matt was so close, yet so far away from you. He had gotten used to the silence, but he hadn't used to not seeing you, being around you. Even though a small part of him was crestfallen that you didn't seem to miss his presence, it made him happy to see you were still doing well. Even if it was without him.

Turning on his back, with his hand stretched over the empty space beside him, Matt couldn't help but wonder why you cut all contact with him, and why he had been so bothered by the fact. He could take the hint and accept a rejection, but he couldn't understand why your silence hurt him the most of all. Something was missing; Matt could feel it so clearly when he returned to his apartment at night after your arrangement was abruptly over. His place didn't have your scent, your candles, or even the overpowering aroma of the ointment you applied on him when he needed it. He even missed the coarseness of your fine cotton sheets on his too-sensitive skin. Yet, none of these little things could even begin to compare to how often he found himself missing your presence most of all. Your steady heartbeat and the way it quickened when he touched you. Your comforting scent when he buried his nose into your neck. The way your thighs found their home around his waist when he fucked you into the mattress, your bodies moving together in a desperate attempt at getting closer and closer until you were joined in one body made of flesh and bones. It wasn't just the sex that he missed. His heart involuntarily yearned for your laugh, your presence, being around you. He remembered how your apartment smelled like the tea you drink and how it would be cold by the end of his visits. He missed the way you seemed to know what he needed by paying attention to his body language and the way he conveyed his needs without words.

Matt ran a hand over his face and sighed heavily. He needed to take a walk, to allow his mind to be uninhabited by you.

As Matt padded barefoot through the apartment, he was reminded once again of you by the soft floral fragrance in the sweater you left at his place. It was you he smelled, a warm and sheer powdery iris that he could never mistake for someone else, and a mix of his own scent, too. When he first noticed it in his closet, his heart fluttered when he realized what it was. Now, with its new place on the top of a dining chair, the faint floral was a reminder of what you were to him. He wished he could restore it to your scent and your scent only so he could hold onto you a little longer. Matt caught his stray thought and steered himself away from reminiscing. It was dangerously close to the territory he couldn't afford to enter. So he shut it out.

He really needed that walk.

The air was crisp and clear, which made everything around him stand out more. Matt took a moment to take in his surroundings. The neighbourhood felt lively amongst the aroma of coffee, steaming broth, greasy food and freshly baked pastries. The revving of a motorcycle passed by him, making his brows furrow over the loud noise and the waft of smoke it brought. He smelled more food, more body odour, but amidst all that chaos, something familiar arose. The scent reminded him of you. And once again, his thoughts strayed as if he couldn't help himself.

How could he have predicted the way things ended with you? Even if he knew beforehand, he couldn't prevent it from happening. It simply wasn't meant to be. You and him both knew what you were getting into, and it was nothing more than a casual exchange. And if his exclusion from your life was what you wanted, he would respect that. Still, Matt couldn't make sense of his desolation. It confused him, all the thoughts running through his head, all the ache wrapping around his heart like cellophane, circling around the truth buried so deep that he couldn't feel it for what it truly was. It was almost as if his heart already knew, but his mind refused to acknowledge it.

The iris scent got stronger, and Matt directed his attention toward it. His heart seemed to recognize it before his senses caught onto it, beating faster as it came closer, accompanied by the rhythm of a heartbeat he knew so well. It was unmistakenly you, your scent, your voice, as all the tangible signals drifted to him. He was aware that you hadn't seen him yet; his feet involuntarily picked up the pace, closing the distance between you. You were closer to him now, the closest in months. He listened to your voice as you chatted with your companion, unaware of him. And when you finally saw him, Matt could tell as the breath in your throat hitched. He took a deep breath, bracing himself to say hi, a soft smile on his face.

It was only seconds, yet it felt so long as your jacket brushed over his on the busy pavement; the brief contact ended before it even began. You kept walking further away from him as Matt's heart dropped in the realization that you didn't stop to acknowledge him. The familiar ache took hold of his heart and squeezed again. Matt brushed the feeling off by taking his own steps forward and away from you, only with less certainty and excitement. He was still close by when he heard it. The conversation you had with your companion.

"Hey. You okay?"

The woman's voice was full of concern.

"Uh, yeah, I'm … I'm fine."

There was a touch of hesitation in your voice.

"Are you sure? You look like you saw a ghost."

A small chuckle.

"I feel like I did."

A brief pause and a small yet determined exhale later.

"Don't worry. It's nothing."

His heart dropped even further at your words; the pain grabbed and pulled at his heartstrings violently. What you said to your friend manifested a bitter taste on his tongue, making his stomach churn. You pretending not to know him and ignoring him hurt him more than he realized. How could you? How could you act like the ink on the pages of your story had washed away so completely that the history you shared became a blank book? Why did he become nothing to you?

Matt wanted to know the unbridled truth and get the closure he was owed. He deserved that much.

–

About a week later, Matt waited for you to return home at the front of your building instead of the usual spot at your fire escape. It was late, almost time for him to go back to his apartment so he could start the patrol for the night. But that could wait.

Matt buried his hands into his pockets to shield them from the wind nipping at his skin. Leaning onto the brick pillar at the bottom of the steps, he closed his eyes, trying to calm his heart rate, reminding himself that it was just you, the woman he had known so well. But his logic persisted. Maybe he didn't know you at all. He could barely understand himself these days. Who was he to say that he knew you for who you really were?

His heart picked up its pace again once he heard the sound of your voice neared. You were laughing alongside the familiar voice from last week; the slightest slur in your words was enough for him to know that you were tipsy. The uneven clicks of your heels on the ground became steadier as you made your way toward the entrance and stopped when you approached him.

Matt stood up straight, clearing his throat softly.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?"

You wasted no time. Your voice was cold, and your demeanour was curt.

"I need to talk to you."

Your companion's voice interrupted him.

"Who are you?"

You pulled at your friend's sleeve, and after a brief pause, she released a small gasp and a soft "Oh". She then turned to him, her voice stern, leaving no room for any other interpretation.

"My friend doesn't have anything to say to you. So you can–"

"Mindy. I got this."

"Are you sure?"

Matt listened as the conversation wrapped up, with Mindy getting into a cab and you promising to call her if you wanted to talk. You closed the door, waiting until the taxi pulled away before returning to him, still keeping your distance.

"What do you want to talk to me about?"

Matt took a small step forward.

"About what happened between us."

"There is nothing to talk about. Nothing happened."

The blankness in your voice made him feel like his skin was pricked with needles. He scoffed, bewildered with disbelief at your outright denial.

"I wouldn't call cutting off all contact, out of the blue, without an explanation, nothing."

When you didn't say anything, he continued.

"Why did you shut me out? It's like our relationship meant nothing to you."

His words seemed to get to you as you snapped back at him.

"There was nothing between us. There was no relationship."

You enunciated your words, making your intention clear.

"I cared for you the same way you cared for me. Isn't that something?"

The harsh puff of air escaped from you was scornful, and Matt knew he was getting somewhere.

"No. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course I do. What do you mean by that?"

You stepped closer until you were inches away from him. You were so close that Matt could feel the tension in your body, the way your fists clenched into themselves, the way your heart pounded in your chest.

"You want the truth, Matt? The truth is I didn't want to set myself up for more disappointment, so I did what I thought was best for myself."

His brows scrunched together at the meaning behind your words.

"What kind of disappointment?"

You sighed heavily.

"The kind that came from knowing I could never be more to you. I thought you cared for me, Matt."

Your voice had gone quieter, so small that he felt like it took all of your strength to physically say it. He softened at that, and his hand reached out to find your cheek.

"I did. I still do."

But before the contact happened, you took a step back, avoiding his hand.

"No. You don't care about me like the way I cared for you. I was just your side piece that you could fuck whenever you–"

Matt was so taken aback by your firm conviction that he didn't register the latter part. He didn't care about the way you seemed to shy away from him and grasped your arms, pulling you close.

"You're more than that to me! You're my friend."

His chest heaved in exertion. He didn't know what else he could do to convince you. When you spoke, it was the way your voice shook that broke him.

"That wasn't enough for me, Matt."

Your hands came up to hold onto his arms, your grasp weak, but it gave Matt some hope. You swallowed hard.

"I lov– I liked you, so much that my heart hurts whenever you didn't stop by."

His heart rattled in its cage, wanting to break free at your confession. Your voice was so small, yet your words carried so much weight.

"I thought we could be more, but you confirmed that it wasn't in the cards for you, so … I did the best thing for both of us. I didn't want to waste anymore of your and my time."

Matt loosened his hold, his head dipped as he hoped you were looking at him.

"You knew what it would be like to be with me. I would go out and I might get hurt, and I didn't want to leave you by yourself worrying about me in case something happened."

You tore yourself away from his grasp, your voice raised in what felt like exasperation.

"You don't get it! I already went through those worries when we were still sleeping together. I was always worried about you when you got injured, when you came to my place just a little later than you said you would. I would be worried sick. So don't feed me that bull shit. I knew what I was getting myself into."

Matt fell silent, and for the first time, he lost his defence. So he returned to the start of it all.

"We agreed to be casual."

"Then why did you act like my boyfriend? Cuddling me to sleep? Making sure I was okay after a shitty day at work? I thought it was you showing that you cared about me more than just a fuck-buddy."

Your anger only intensified at his attempt at calmness.

"You're worth caring for. I didn't regret anything I did for you."

You chuckled, the sound bitter to his ears.

"Right. It doesn't matter anyway. You already have someone else waiting for you at home."

Confusion clouded his thoughts.

"What are you talking about?"

You scoffed in disbelief.

"I'm talking about Karen Page."

"What about her?"

"Don't pull that shit with me. I know you're together. I could tell by the way you acted throughout the interview and the photoshoot."

"You got it wrong. We used to date, but not anymore. We're only friends. Please, you have to trust me."

He could hear you moving toward him before feeling a jab of your finger at his chest; your face was closer to his for the first time in months.

"I don't care what the two of you are anymore, okay? It looked like that from my end. Do you know what it feels like knowing that you were made the other woman? I even defended you before my friend, saying that you actually loved me. I was so fucking stupid."

Your last words were dripped in a teary tone. Matt was speechless as you sobbed; the sound made his body throb with pain as if he was dealt with a thousand cuts. He noticed the way your heart thundered in your chest, but it wasn't out of dishonesty. It was out of the hate and love you had for him, both surging at once. Your heart thumped vigorously for him; your body burned with fervour because of him. He was too stubborn to see the signs for what they were: the affection and devotion you saved for him, reflected through the little things you did for him. You didn't have to say it. Your feeling for him was tangible and real, like the feel of your finger prodding at his chest. Real like the tears on your face at the expense of his unintentional ignorance.

Your hand fell to your side. Your anger subsided; now you were depleted, and Matt hated that he was the source of your distress.

"Please, understand where I came from. I didn't want to be a home wrecker. I just couldn't do it anymore."

He nodded. The silence stretched as the two of you let the confession infuse the air between you. Matt had asked for the truth, and he got it. Yet it was so suffocating that he felt like he couldn't breathe. All of your cards were laid on the table, and it was his turn to reveal his.

You sniffled, and your voice sobered up. But Matt could still hear the shakiness in it.

"Anything else you want to tell me?"

The words were at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to say them. He held his cards close, afraid to confront the aftermath. After all, he had so much to lose.

You took his silence for your answer. You trained your voice to be cold again.

"Right. I hope you got what you came here for."

You brushed past him and ascended the steps, leaving Matt where he was: at the front of your door, in the cold autumn wind, alone. Like he always had been.

*Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!* Follow my side blog to receive notifications whenever I post! @cellophaine-archives

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aza-writes · 9 months

Text

The Columbia Party

college!matt murdock x reader

Summary: you're a law student at Yale and your friend takes you to a Columbia Law school party one night where you so happen to meet a really cute blind guy

Warnings: use of y/n, few curse words, alludes to future smut

Based on the quote: "Everyone knows that the only real Ivy's are the Holy Trinity; Harvard, Yale, and Princeton" because Blair Waldorf is an icon

requested: no

The music playing in the bar was so loud that you could barely hear the guy standing next to me. His smile was charming but he was trying way too hard to be Mr. Cool Guy. Bragging about how he went to an Ivy League when everyone here is doing the same. I fake smile and giggle, hoping it’s enough for him to buy me a free drink. And I was so close. One more playful touch on his arm and I would be sucking down something strong for free, getting buzzed after a minute. But no. My friend who brought me here, Bre, grabbed my hand and pulled me away into the crowd.

“You have to meet my friends! You’ll have so much fun with them!” Even with her yelling, her voice is barely audible over the music and loud conversations. She pulls me through the crowd insisting that a quiet spot is only “a little further away.” It wasn’t until after we finished one song, listened to a full one, and started the next that we finally made it to a small corner booth with two guys and a girl sitting there.

"Bre!" the long-haired guy who kinda looks like a hippy yelled toward us. He immediately stands up and hurries over to her.

Bre grips my hand harder as she walks towards the hippy man. “Foggy! How are you?” She’s speaking louder than usual, indicating the buzz of alcohol in her system. She goes to hug him without letting go of my hand, leaving me awkwardly standing there.

She finally pulls away after a few long seconds. “This is the girl I was telling you about!” She lets go of my hand and makes a grand gesture to me. “Isn’t she so pretty! I told you she was pretty!” I giggle at her drunk compliments. Bre was the type of girl to brag about her friends but she gets even more affectionate after she’s been drinking. The perfect hype woman.

I was expecting him to hold out his hand for me to shake, instead, he pulls me into a big bear hug. “I’m Foggy,” he turns and points to a girl at their booth, “That’s Marci, and that one with the glasses is Matt.”

I wave at everyone. “It’s nice to meet all of you. I’m y/n.” I smile as Bre again grabs my hand and pulls me to the booth to sit down.

Bre giggles as we sit down, then immediately stands up. “I’m gonna get us drinks!” She smiles and dramatically kisses the top of my head with a “mwah” before she runs back into the crowd to the bar.

“So,” Foggy breaks the silence, “Bre said you’re in law school too.”

Matt perks up at this, finally allowing me to see his full face and the upper half of his shoulders. I can’t tell if it’s the alcohol but he has a very pretty face and extremely broad shoulders. Nice muscles too. Before I got to respond, Matt asks another question.

“You go to Colombia too?” He faces me, with furrowed brows. You can see the wheels in his head spinning but I have no idea what he’s thinking.

“No, I go to Yale.” I smile softly, uncomfortable with the fact Bre left me with three strangers. I only know Marci from the one time we met. I was staying the night in Bre’s dorm when Marci hurried in and packed an overnight bag to meet up with what Bre refers to as ‘mystery whipped man’ which I now think is Foggy by the way he’s sitting so close to her.

Marci giggles at this and looks up at Matt. “Oh, this is just perfect!” I look at her confused until she turns to Matt. “Weren’t you just saying that people that go to Yale are-”

“Shh-” Foggy cuts her off, but that doesn’t stop her.

“A bunch of pretentious-”

“Shhhhhh!” This time it was Matt trying to get her to stop talking.

“Assholes.”

My eyes widen. “Oh really?” I look back at Matt. “Everyone that goes to Yale.”

“That’s not at all what I meant.” His voice is a bit more defensive but nervous beyond everything else. “It’s just a lot of people there are a bit more high class and um,” he looks at Foggy, trying to get his help in the situation. Foggy just sits there and puts his hands up in surrender. “Snobby?”

“Snobby?”

“Shit that isn’t the right word.”

“Snobby? Says that guy that goes to Colombia. You probably think that you’re too cool for one of the top law schools in the country.”

Matt scoffs. “Colombia is an Ivy League school, just like Yale.”

“Oh please, everyone knows that the real Ivy’s are the Holy Trinity; Harvad, Yale, and Princeton.”

Matt opens his mouth, about to rebuttal, when Bre returns with two Long Island ice teas.

“Sooo, what did I miss?” She smiles and sits right next to me, trapping me next to Matt. “Is everyone getting along?”

“It’s going just great.” I give her an obviously fake smile before sipping my drink. I’m too sober to deal with any of this right now.

• • • • • •

An hour passed, as well as two Long Island ice teas, two rounds of shots for the table, and something fruity Bre brought me. I was too buzzed at that point to even ask what it was, but it was good. I was doing relatively okay, drunk enough to feel fine but I could still think logically-ish. Bre on the other hand, was wasted out of her mind. She was so drunk to the point Foggy and Marci had to get her back to her dorm.

“I’ll drop her off then run back to grab you and Matt.” And with those three leaving, it left me and Matt alone.

I don’t feel like talking to him and I don’t want to talk to him, but the awkward silence was enough to make me want to bang my head into a wall. I’m honestly considering it. I slowly turn my head to look at Matt who was taking a sip out of his beer. His hands look so good holding the bottle. His jaw tense as he drinks it, his lips wrapped around the opening.

Fuck he’s hot.

He pulls me out of my daydream by chuckling a bit as he sets his beer down.

“What’s so funny?” I’m at that stage of drinking where I say anything that comes to my mind. I can’t tell if I like this part or hate it.

He just shakes his head and smiles. “I-it’s nothing,” he tries to compose himself but he starts laughing again.

“Tell me. It’s not like I’m gonna remember it in the morning.” I lie, I’ll remember it perfectly fine. I just want him to tell me. What about this whole thing is so funny he can’t help himself from laughing.

He chuckles a bit more and turns to me. “Okay then.” He smirks then leans in close. “When I took a drink your heart rate spiked, your skin is hotter, and your breath quickened. You find me attractive, don’t you?”

My eyes widen. How the fuck did he know that? “Excuse me?”

He chuckles again. “It spiked again.”

“H-how do you know that? And I don’t. And how the fuck do you know about my heart rate?”

“Don’t worry about it.” he straightens up, his smirk still lying across his face.

I wanna smack it off of him… Or fuck it off.

Only a few seconds after I let that thought slip in, he’s smirking and giggling like a fucking mind reader.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock smut #matt murdock one shot #matthew murdock #matt murdock #daredevil x reader #daredevil x y/n #daredevil smut

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soulofapatrick · 1 year

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I Would Wait Forever - Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You and Matt have been friends forever and one night, after mutual pining, Matt takes a risk

Words: 3k

Warnings: none

Y/N’s POV

I’m jolted awake by the sound of the front door shutting, a dark figure moving around almost silently as if he was trying not to wake me, masking being put down. Matt’s back from being Hell Kitchen’s vigilant, the famous Daredevil. We’ve been best friends for years so of course I worked it out quickly. Well, let’s just say Matt forgot to his suit somewhere other than his wardrobe that I constantly raid as his hoodies are so soft and fluff so of course I’m gonna steal them.

I gather my thoughts, trying to steady my heart after waking from a nightmare and I can’t stop the small flutter in my chest as Matt steps into the moonlight streaming through his floor to ceiling windows. He looks exhausted, his suit torn and bloodstained and he practically collapses into the couch, head falling to my shoulder. My heart rate skyrockets and I’m groaning as he’s laughing, soft and warm before pressing a kiss to my shoulder where my shirt has slipped down. His lips feel like a spark of electricity, causing me to shiver as his lips ghost my skin. My mind is racing as if try to savour the feeling, storing it away for a future moment.

We’ve always had a close relationship, but lately it feels like something has changed. There have been moments I’ve caught him looking at me in a way that makes my heart skip a beat. I know he can’t see me in the way but it makes me feel like he’s looking straight into my soul and it has made it hard to keep my feelings in check as I don’t want to ruin our friendship by confessing how I feel. I reach up, running my hands through his fluffy hair as I ask, “Rough night?” Trying to keep my voice steady.

He nods, letting out a sigh, breath ghosting my neck, “It’s never easy out there,” His voice is low and gravelly as he speaks, “But I can’t just sit back and let those bastards run rampant.”

I understand his drive to fight for justice but the thought of him getting hurt or worse, losing him, makes me want to stop him leaving every night. I know I should tell him how I feel about him but I’m losing him in anyway so I just stuff those feelings to the back of my mind and focus on being there for him as a friend, “You want me to run you a bath?”He’s nodding, moving his head from my shoulder so I can stand and he holds his arms out with a pout of his lips as his deep chocolate eyes are on my face but slightly too far up for him to not be blind. It makes me laugh how cute he can be as I take his hands and pull him to his feet even though he can very well do it himself.

I head to the bathroom to run the bath, knowing he’ll go to his bedroom to grab some clean clothes and a towel so I barely bat an eyelid when I hear him moving around while I turn the faucet on and get the temperature just right. Matt uses echolocation of sorts to sense his surrounding, listening intently as to how sounds bounce off objects and from that he’s able to paint a pretty accurate picture every time. He’s more than capable of sorting himself out due to this but I like doing this for him, being able to show him how much he means to me with my actions and I know he doesn’t mind it either.

As the bath fills I can hear Matt making his way towards the bathroom so I put some of those sweetly scented bath salts into the water, watching them sparkle and shimmer before disappearing and giving the bathroom a faintly cherry smell. Fuck it smells so good, cherry being one of my favourite scents. I’m turning the taps off when the bathroom door creaks and Matt is hovering there, a change of clothes and towel in his hands and he’s in nothing but a pair of boxers, making my mouth dry at the sight of him. His toned muscles and defined abs are on full display, thick thighs making me swallow hard before I’m clearing my throat and composing myself because what the fuck am I doing? A flush spreads across my cheeks as I force myself to look away, not helping when I steal another quick glance as he is so goddamn attractive and seeing him practically naked does things to my body that I can’t ignore.

I’m clearing my throat again, moving aside so he can enter the bathroom as I say, “It’s ready for you,” My voice coming out a little breathless and there’s a shit eating grin on those pretty lips, “I’ll just uh… I’ll be in the kitchen.” I’m nodding more to myself that him before I quickly turn and speed walk out of the bathroom, back to the kitchen where I put the kettle on needing a coffee. The bathroom door is sliding closed behind me and I’m leaning against the kitchen counter, trying to catch my breath. Seeing Matt practically naked always leaves me feeling a little flustered and it’s harder to hide my feeling for him, as if he’s being affectionate and all those accidental touches weren’t so accidental. No, of course I’m just overthinking and overanalysing all of this, my heart seeing what my heart wants.

The sound of the kettle bubbling interrupts my thoughts and I prepare myself a mug of coffee, adding two sugars and a splash of milk plus a little caramel sauce that Matt keeps here for me. As I take a sip I can feel the warmth spreading through me, calming my nerves and clearing my mind. The time flashing on the clock has me groaning as it’s almost five am and the sun is starting to rise and I should be in bed but making sure Matt’s not dead is more important. I can’t sleep until I’m sure he’s safe, hence why I let myself into his apartment and fell asleep on his couch. His couch is looking rather comfy again as sleepiness clouds my mind a little.

As I walk to the sofa I can hear the faint sound of water splashing and Matt humming to himself, drawing a smile from me as I know he’s relaxing after a long night of being the hero Hells Kitchen didn’t’t know it needed. I settle on the couch and grab my book, trying to distract myself and pass the time until Matt’s done. But, of course, my mind keeps wandering back to Matt and how he is so special to me. I can’t help but think about how much I care about him, how much he means to me and how much it hurts to see him come back battered and bruised. I don’t think he feels the same way so I keep it all to myself, wondering what it would be like to be with him, holding him close and kiss him.

I’m vaguely aware of the book slipping from my hands and my head falling back to the arm of the chair as my eyes are slipping shut, the thought of Matt being mine on my mind. The sound of the bathroom door waking me suddenly and Matt’s silhouette appears in the doorway, hair damp and skin glistening in the morning light. He looks undoubtably ethereal, rather quite the opposite of his vigilant persona. He’s smiling at me still on the couch, book on the floor now and I’m letting my head fall back on the couch, watching as he runs a hand through his damn hair, leaving it sticking up in odd directions as he speaks, “Hey,” His voice soft as he makes his way over to me, “That was exactly what I needed.” He leans down and places a kiss to my forehead, causing my heart to try take up skipping as a hobby, “And now what I need is you in bed with me so we can get some sleep before Foggy or Karen comes yelling in about…” He pretends to look at a watch on his wrist as if he would be able to see one if he wasn’t blind, “Four hours.”

Before I can make any response he’s leaning down again and scooping me up, throwing me over his shoulder with a shriek from me. As he carries me to his bedroom I can feel the strength of the his muscles beneath my body, his back and shoulders are broad and defined and I can feel the firmness of his biceps as he effortlessly carries me. It’s no surprise that he’s able to move with such ease, even as a blind man. He’s trained to navigate the world using other senses, his body honed for strength and agility. He’s throwing me don into the soft mattress, a laugh rumbling his chest when I let out a yelp.

His bedroom is simple yet elegant, with dark wooden furniture and navy blue bedding, the walls are a light grey with a few pieces of artwork hanging here and there. They’re my favourite shade of grey, Matt having made me pick the exact shade of grey as if he knew I’d be here a lot. The smug bastard. The bed is large and inviting with plush pillows and a soft comforter that looks like it would be prefect place to spend the rest of the day so I’m shimmying out of my sweatpants and before I can reach under my shirt to undo my bra nimble fingers are there, breath warm against my neck, sending shivers and goosebumps after the brush of his fingers. His touch is gentle yet confident, moving away too soon so I can slip my bra off under my shirt before laying back in the soft bed.

Matt is joining me, the bed dipping behind me and I can’t not wonder if this is what other best friends do. Do they share beds? Do they cuddle like Matt is doing now, calloused hands finding my hips and pulling me back into his chest. He settles, the warmth of his body seeping into mine, sends waves of comfort and security over me. His breath tickles the back of my neck as he whispers, “What’s on your mind? You’ve been deep in thought since I got back.”

“Just thinking about life, ya know?” I reply, trying to keep my tone light, “The usual stuff really.”

Matt’s grip on my hips tightens slight and I feel him press a soft kiss to the back of my neck, “Hmmm, what about life?” He has to be teasing me, there’s a small smile as his lips are pressed against my shoulder as he raises himself on one elbow to look in my general direction. I take a deep breath, unsure if I should share my thoughts with him, even if he has always been my confidante and safe space.

“I… I don’t know Matty,” I say, voice barely above a whisper, “"Sometimes I just feel like I'm stuck. Like I'm not really living, just going through the motions. Do you ever feel like that?”

His hand moves from my hip, tracing soothing circles over my stomach and it’s a little ticklish and he knows it with the smile pressed into my shoulder before he replies, “Yeah, I know what you mean,” His voice is just as quiet as mine, “But you know what they say, life is what you make it. Maybe we just need to shake things up a bit, try something new.” Try something new… I turn my head to look up at him, his face only inches from mine and the way the light from the bedside lamp is hitting his face… I’m shaking my head, trying to clear my not so best friend thoughts about Matt as he doesn’t feel the same for me. No way he does, but he’s moving closer, voice low and rough, “I could try something new with you.”

I freeze, my heart hammering in my chest as Matt’s words sink in. Did he actually say that? My mind racing with a hundred thoughts and questions but I can’t seem to form a coherent sentence as much as I try so I’m being stupid and turning my head away from him, trying to hide the blush that’s spreading across my cheeks. He seems to sense my hesitation and pulls back slightly, hand still resting on my stomach, “Hey lovely, it’s okay,” He speaks softly, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

With that he’s going to move away but I’m reaching up, fingers finding the stray tufts of his very fluffy hair at the nape of his neck as I roll onto my back so he’s hovering over me. My hand moving to his face, fingers gently tracing over his features and he lets me. I take int he strong lines of his jaw, the slight stubble that has started to grow and the way his cheekbones seem to be carved from marble. His nose is straight and prominent, giving him a rugged and masculine look and his eyebrows are thick and wee defined. But it’s his eyes that I always get lost in, a mixture of cognac and chocolate that seems to change depending on his mood but they’re always so warm and inviting when he’s facing me. Then there are his lips, full and soft looking with just a hint of a smile playing at the corners as he kisses the pads of my fingers when they trail over them.

This small action breaks my resolve and I’m suddenly grabbing his jaw, surging up to slam my lips into a kiss that pours all the pent up emotions I’ve been feeling for him. Matt’s surprised gasp turns into a groan as he responds eagerly, arms wrapping around me and pulling me closer. The warmth of his body envelops me, making me feel safe and loved, and I can't help but deepen the kiss. Our tongues tangle together in a dance that feels familiar and new at the same time, and I realise that this is what I've been wanting all along.

We’re finally breaking apart, panting and I can see the same desire on his face as he drags his bottom lip through his teeth, “Y/N,” He’s murmuring, voice rough with emotions, “I have been waiting for you to do that for forever.”

“You knew?” The moment is broken as I glare at him incredulously from where I’m laying below him, sinking into the soft pillows and probably looking no way as intimidating or mad as I hoped I would sound.

Matt’s face softens and he’s moving a hand to cup my cheek, thumb rubbing gentle circles on my skin, “Of course I knew,” He replies softly, “I can hear your heartbeat remember. I just didn’t want to push you, I would have waited forever for you to be ready.” My heart swells at his words and the warmth of his hand on my cheek. All the doubts and fears that had been holding me back melt away and I’m putting pressure on the back of his neck until he gets the hint, his face breaking out into a huge smile before he’s leaning down.

My heart flutters in anticipation, lips meeting lips and it’s better than I could ever have imagined. His lips are soft and warm, moving perfectly against mine and I can taste a hint of the peppermint toothpaste but the overwhelming taste of everything Matty is intoxicating. His hands cup my cheeks as mine tangle in his fluffy hair, pulling him as close as I can. Our bodies are pressed together and I can feel the warmth and strength above me, his body fitting perfectly above mine and I can’t get enough of him. The kiss deepening, hands starting to roam and explore.

His hands move down my sides, feeling the dip of my hips before he’s gripping them and pulling me closer. I’m running my fingers over his back feeling every ripple and dip of his muscles. His skin is warm and smooth, fingers running up his spine, feeling each vertebY/N and the muscles on either side as he shivers. The sensation of skin against skin combined with the passion of the moment is electric and exhilarating. It feels like time stands still and the world around us doesn't matter anymore. We break apart for a moment, gasping for air, and our eyes meet. In that moment, I know that I want to be with him, that he's the one I've been waiting for.

Matt leans down to kiss me again, and I can feel his smile against my lips. His hands move to my waist, pulling me even closer to him. I can feel the heat of his body against mine, and it's like we're two puzzle pieces finally fitting together perfectly. I wrap my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss even more. It feels like the most natural thing in the world to be with him like this. The kiss continues, and I don't want it to ever end but eventually, Matt pulls away, a small smile on his face again as he moves back to my side. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his gaze never leaving mine. "We should try and get some sleep," he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. I nod, feeling a sense of contentment settle over me. As we curl up together, my head resting on his chest, I can feel his heartbeat under my ear. It's a steady, comforting rhythm, and I know that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, his heart my own lullaby drifting me to sleep within the safety of his arms and a promise of a relationship.

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Marvel Masterlist

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#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock smut #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock angst #matt murdock comfort #matt murdock Drabble #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil x y/n #daredevil fluff #daredevil angst #daredevil smut #Charlie cox #matthew murdock

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