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courtforshort15 · 2 years

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Yours with a Kiss

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem reader

Word count: 5,800

Summary: Things with Matt are still pretty new, but that doesn't stop the rush you feel everytime he's near, and he absolutely takes advantage.

Trigger warning: just more Matt Murdock fluff, guys.

Written for this request

Masterlist

This thing with him is still…new.

Like, extremely new.

Barely-acknowledged-feelings-but-maybe-this-could-be-something new.

There have been a few instances of hand holding, a few soft kisses pressed to your mouth, a few strokes of calloused fingers down your cheek. Matt knows you’re a little nervous, a little shy. Given the fact that there’s a tiny bit of an age gap and that he’s technically your boss, Matt is almost as hesitant as you are to push things full steam ahead, even though feelings have been admitted and found reciprocal.

But you notice the way he almost seems to track your movement when you’re near. You notice the way his head tilts in your direction even if you’re not the one who is speaking. You notice the way his body is usually angled towards yours if you’re in the room, as if he’s putting himself completely on display for you to do with what you wish.

Matt Murdock is the most intense man you’ve ever met, despite his easy and charming smile, and the way he always seems so in tune with you is intimidating, nerve-wracking, and thrilling.

He is exceedingly careful with you, as if you’re the most precious thing to him, as if he’s nervous he’ll scare you off. You appreciate the tenderness in which he treats you, a nice change from the other men you’ve dated who always ask for more than you’re willing to give, and quicker than you’re willing to give it. Matt makes you feel like he’s got all the time in the world to get to know you, like he’s got all the time in the world to ease into this thing with you, and the slow burn is more intimate than anything else you’ve ever felt before.

He is willing to take his time, to make sure things are done right, and it means more than you’ll ever know how to articulate. This man has managed work his way under your skin, sliding in so effortlessly as if he’s always been there.

It's only been a few months since Nelson, Murdock & Page brought you on as a junior investigator, and you report mostly up to Karen. She is ruthless in her search for the truth, and she runs you all over Hell's Kitchen, eager to bring you into the journey of whatever story she's chasing next.

It's Karen that has you at the office early Monday morning, a hundred things ready for you to do to start off the week. A job like yours doesn't typically rest during the weekend, new parts of the story popping up at anytime, regardless of day or time, but she does her best to give you some sort of a work-life balance.

The door is unlocked when you arrive, so you step inside, closing it quietly behind you, unwilling to disturb the silence. You walk over to your desk and set your things down, about to turn around and walk towards the small break room when your phone beeps, signifying that you’ve received an email.

You take your phone out of your purse, reading through the email that Karen has just forwarded your way. She’s asked you to meet her at The Bulletin in an hour or so, hoping that the two of you can hunt down a few things with Ellison’s help. You had been expecting a full day at the office, but it’s not a big deal, and this case Karen has been following might just be a large one, depending on what you dig up.

“Good morning.”

The voice startles you, despite knowing the fact that someone was bound to be in the office with you seeing as how the door was unlocked. You glance up from where you had been typing out a response to Karen’s email, unsurprised to see that it's Matt standing there, two cups of coffee in his hands.

“Hey,” you respond with a shy smile, setting your phone down on the desk once you hit send. He’s got his typical work suit on, though he’s not wearing the suit jacket, and the sleeves are already pushed up to his elbows. The man looks so effortlessly attractive, it’s ridiculous.

“Coffee?” He takes a few steps forward, extending his arm out for you, your fingers brushing lightly against his. “I heard someone come in, so I figured I’d pour another cup.”

“Thank you,” you say before you take a small sip, the liquid burning your tongue slightly as you swallow. The coffee is sweeter than you had been expecting it, and you tilt your head curiously. You’re the only one in the office who doesn’t take it black. “How did you know to put cream in it? How did you know it was me who came in?”

Matt takes a sip of his own coffee, smiling as he lowers the mug back down. “Wishful thinking,” he says, and your heart briefly stutters. His smile widens, as if he knows the effect he has on you, and the look on his face doesn’t make things easier on you this morning. “That, and I heard your phone go off. You’re the only one I know who actually has a message tone rather than leaving it on vibrate. Myself excluded, of course.”

You let out a quiet laugh, leaning against your desk. You glance at the fading bruise on his jawline curiously as your eyes flitt over his face. “Old habit, I guess. I tend to get super wrapped up in things and get lost inside my head. The vibration doesn’t always get through to me, so the sound helps.”

“So I’ve noticed,” he says, stepping closer still, so that he’s only within a few feet now. He drums his fingers lightly on his mug, and your eyes drift down to the hand that had so easily held yours last week when he walked you home from work. “I can’t count how many times I’ve had to call your name more than three times to get you to look up.”

Your cheeks flush briefly at the teasing. “Well, consider yourself lucky that your employee is so invested in their work that they are almost immune to distractions.”

“Almost immune?” He asks with a smirk. “What sorts of things manage to get through the fog?”

Your ass.

“That’s none of your business, Mr. Murdock,” you tell him, raising your chin in an act of fake defiance, thought you're completely unwilling to share that specific detail with him. The look is lost on him, you know, but it doesn't stop your body from following through with the motion. “It’s classified.”

His smile is absolutely wicked, and it sends a brief flash of hunger down through your skin, but you push it brutally away. “I’m sure I’ll get it out of you at some point.”

"You're welcome to try."

"I think you'll find I'm rather gifted at pulling all sorts of information out of people," he says matter of factly, expression still teasing, though it has some sort of sharp and self-deprecating edge to it. It's almost feels as if he's laughing at some sort of joke only he's privy to at the moment. "Consider yourself warned."

You’re not quite sure how to reply, mouth opening and closing awkwardly with nothing witty or charming to say, so when your phone beeps with a text message, you clear your throat and readily welcome the distraction.

It seems to knock Matt back into more of a professional mode, because his flirtatious smile mellows back into something softer. “Karen blowing up your phone again?”

You let out a sigh, one that is honestly more amused than anything. Karen was certainly up and at 'em this morning, which is absolutely unsurprising. Her sheer tenacity often demands a lot from you mentally, but you can't think of any other woman you'd rather be working for in this business. “Yeah,” you answer, typing out another quick reply. “I had five emails from her by 5am this morning. Does she ever sleep, do you know?”

Matt snorts into his coffee. “I think our entire office gets a total amount of ten hours of sleep a night collectively.”

The firm works long hours, full of early mornings that gradually fade into late evenings, and while your own work leads you on a chase over the island of Manhattan, you've never felt more at home than in this specific office suite in Hell's Kitchen.

You tilt your head in thought. “Foggy strikes me as the type of person who has a semi-normal sleep schedule.”

Matt shakes his head, the expression on his face amused and unsympathetic for his friend. “Not with an infant at home.”

You throw your head back in an abrupt laugh, quickly retracting your statement and readily agreeing with him. “True enough. I think she’s teething, too. Can’t imagine that’s fun at the moment.”

“Hence the upgrade in the coffee machine.”

“Do I want to know what kind of machine you were using before you switched over?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at him. Your eyes flicker over to the doorway to the break room before landing back on the mug that’s in your hands. You take another large sip and place it down on your desk.

“Probably not.”

“Well then my caffeine addiction salutes you,” you say, absentmindedly picking up the folder of documents Karen had requested you bring to your meeting with Ellison. You'd left it on your desk Friday afternoon. “I’m going to need all the coffee available the next few days.”

“Busy week ahead?” He asks casually, leaning into the wall behind him, one hand in his pocket, the other still holding on to his coffee cup. You force yourself to look away from the way his obviously well-toned body stretches in front of you, the long line of his form both sleek and somehow dangerous, which you find to be a devastating combination. Matt’s eyebrows raise slightly, as if he knows somehow where your thoughts have gone, so you snap your eyes towards the folder in your hand.

"Yeah, Karen has something she’s hunted down and needs my help on. She mentioned needing to get a few quotes from an outside source later this week, in addition to meeting up with Jessica for the information she’s gathered," you say, picking up another file and briefly glancing through a few papers. The images in the file, paired with the notes written in Karen’s flawless handwriting, are curious to you, and you tilt a specific page to the side to get a better look.

“I don’t envy you having to work with Jessica for the next few days,” Matt tells you with a laugh, and despite your focus being elsewhere, you hear the way his voice has changed lightly into something that sounds oddly fond of the woman who has been mentioned. The tone is interesting to you, having witnessed more than one of their spats.

“Nah,” you say with a shrug, still mildly distracted by the file in your hands. “As long as you promise a steady supply of liquor, she isn’t too bad. She managed to pull a few things up for us, which might cut down our work by a decent amount, and Karen said she–FUCK!”

A thin slice of red trickles down your finger, accompanied by a sharp and sudden sting.

Matt looks immediately alarmed, body pushing off of the wall he had been leaning against and stepping the rest of the way towards you. "What happened?"

"Paper cut," you hiss out, throwing the files onto your desk as you examine your pointer finger, careful not to get blood on them. "Nothing major, but these fuckers always hurt like hell, don't they?"

He seems to relax, though his face still shows more concern than warranted for the situation. He puts his coffee cup on your desk, hand immediately reaching out for yours. "Cold water should help, it might reduce the sting."

"I think it's fine," you reply in disagreement, reaching for a tissue to wipe off the blood. It's stopped sooner than it started, but it still leaves a dull ache behind.

Damn it. That fucker will be a nuisance all day.

He's not deterred, and the reaction to your tiny amount of pain is almost amusing in how sweet it is. His palm remains outstretched and facing upwards, waiting on you to place your hand in his, and you easily give in as you take in the expectant look on his face. He's not backing down on this one, you're aware.

He grabs your hand by the wrist and pulls you gently behind him into the small break room that really only houses an old fridge, a sink, and the coffee station. He’s not using his cane, which is unsurprising, given the way he has the office’s floorplan mapped out expertly by now, so you allow him to lead for once.

You humor him as he turns on the faucet and checks the temperature before he slides your hand under the water. “This isn’t necessary,” you say with a laugh. “It’s just a tiny cut.”

"Nothing wrong with rinsing it with soap and water," he says, sending you a quick grin, dimple flashing in his cheek. You're an absolute sucker for that smile. "Can never be too careful."

You can't tell if his being serious, or if he's just messing with you. You glance down at the finger that's currently under the water with amusement, internally laughing when you notice he's already put soap on the finger. "I could have cleaned it myself."

There's an entirely too innocent shrug of his shoulders. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand.”

“Maybe you don’t need an excuse to hold my hand,” you counter, and though you say it in amusement, you can’t help the way your own words cause your face to flush.

The look on his face looks oddly satisfied. “Is that so?”

“It’s definitely so.”

“Good to know,” is all he says as he shuts off the water. He hands you a paper towel to dry off your finger and you watch as he opens the cabinet to his left, reaching in and grabbing the box of bandaids. He runs a light finger over it, no doubt confirming he’s pulled out the right box by reading the label that’s been printed in braille for him, before he opens it and takes out a bandaid.

“This is some A+ doctor treatment you’re giving me for such a tiny cut,” you say, taking the bandaid from him and unwrapping it. He takes the trash from you and puts it in the bin by the door. “Do all of your other coworkers get the same treatment?”

“Foggy and Karen can take care of themselves,” he tells you, walking the few feet back over to you.

You let out a mock gasp, eyes widening in fake indignation. “Are you implying I can’t take care of myself?”

He laughs, shaking his head, red glasses glinting in the bright lights overhead. “I’m implying that maybe I like the idea of being the one to take care of you.”

The phrase, so innocently and matter-of-factly said, causes you to falter briefly as you finish wrapping the bandage around your finger. “Well,” you begin slowly, eyeing the way he is standing closer than he had been just a minute prior, “part of me wants to object again and tell you I am more than capable of taking care of myself. But the other part of me is okay with you having that…specific feeling towards me.”

A shit-eating grin settles across his face at the comment. “So you’re telling me that you’re okay with me holding your hand whenever I want to, and you’re okay with me wanting to make sure you’re safe and happy?"

You roll your eyes fondly. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, yes.”

“Careful, sweetheart,” he says, running his hand down your arm. His fingers leave goosebumps in their wake. “I’m bound to get some ideas with you telling me these things.”

“Well if those ideas have anything to do with taking me to dinner sometime, then I’d say go for it.”

Matt’s mouth parts in another laugh, throwing his head lightly back, and you find yourself grinning widely along with him. “That can certainly be arranged. Any specific requests?”

“Requests? In terms of…?”

“Anything. Anything you want.”

You hmmm quietly, tapping your finger against your chin as if in deep thought. You take a step back from him, running your eyes along the length of his body. “You have to greet me with a kiss.”

He smirks, leaning against the counter. “I was already planning on it.”

You find yourself blushing, but continue. “And I want you to take me somewhere you enjoy. Not somewhere that you think might impress me, or somewhere you think I’m expecting for a first date. Somewhere that means something to you that you want to share with me.”

He reaches out and grabs one of your hands in his, running a thumb over the inside of your wrist that has no business being as intimate as it is. “I can do that. Anything else?”

The words are out before you can take them back, the idea landing in your head in one second, leaving your mouth the next. “You have to tell me what you’re thinking.”

This request causes his eyebrows to rise on his forehead, and the thumb he has on your skin pauses. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” you say, clearing your throat and trying to recover from the way you had just blurted out the sentence, “that I want to know what’s going on inside your head.”

He looks vaguely amused, and his ministrations on your wrist continues. “You may not like what’s in there.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you tell him simply with a shrug, deciding it's too late to go back now. “Doesn’t have to be anything deep, just…share how you’re feeling, I guess? I can always tell there’s more you want to say than what you actually say, so maybe…let some of that filter go.”

“And is this only for dinner?” He questions, head tilting to the side as if in contemplation. “Or starting now?”

Despite the fact that it had been your request to know what was going on in his head, you suddenly feel shy, and you find yourself fidgeting with the bracelet on your wrist, shifting your weight from side to side. “Now, maybe? What are you thinking about right now?”

There’s a short bout of silence, as he tilts his head at you, and you take in the way his breathing has stuttered slightly, a small flush on his own cheeks.

“I’m thinking about how I like having you this close to me,” he eventually answers, and you note the way his tone has softened slightly, no longer as flirtatious but every bit as happy.

Your breath catches briefly, but you recover with a quick shake of your head.

“You…could come closer,” you tell him after a moment. You take another deep breath to steady yourself, observing the way the temperature in the room seems to have increased by a few degrees. Everything suddenly feels so hot. “If you want.”

His wide smile returns, and it almost sends a shock to the system. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirm with a nod, angling your body so that it’s a little more aligned with his. “If that’s what you want.”

Matt doesn’t say anything, but instead takes it as an opportunity to push you lightly towards the wall, encouraging you to take small steps back until your back is pressed against it. He’s close, but not in a way that feels suffocating. The heat radiating off of him burns, and yet you can’t help but feel like you want to burn right there along with him.

“I’ve thought about you like this,” he admits with a sigh, one arm rising and bending so that he’s leaning over you, elbow and forearm resting against the wall above your head. “I’ve thought about this a lot, actually.”

“About me at your mercy?” You tease, watching in fascination as the beautiful flush rises in his cheeks. You’re not quite sure if it’s from the teasing words, or if he feels just as affected as you at the close proximity of your bodies. You hope it's both, longing to know it's not just you that has trouble thinking when he's near.

“No,” he says, before he laughs abruptly. “Well, yes, I have thought about that. But that’s not what I meant. I’ve thought about you pressed against me like this. I’ve thought about you maybe letting me kiss you like this.”

You swallow, hand suddenly reaching out to grasp his tie as if to settle yourself, ignoring the way your finger lets out a quiet, dull throb as it comes into contact with the fabric through the bandaid. “And how–how would you–”

“How would I kiss you?”

You're rooted to the spot, mouth suddenly too dry to really say anything, so you just nod shakily. You watch with rapt attention as he removes his red glasses, wide eyes trailing over the face that is now fully exposed to you. You’ve seen him without his glasses a few times now, but never this close, and the sight is one you know you’ll never get tired of seeing.

This was not how you had imagined your Monday morning going, but you’ll be damned if you don't take advantage of it.

“Hmm,” he voices underneath his breath, appearing thoughtful, transferring his glasses to the hand that’s resting on the wall above you. “I think…I think I’d start with this.” His fingers reach up and trail lightly over your cheekbone before he hooks a piece of hair over your ear. You shiver, and the slight movement causes his lips to twitch into a small smile.

“I think I’d want to touch every inch of skin that you’d let me,” he whispers, the sound floating down to your ears in a caress as soft as fingers. “And I’d start with this beautiful face of yours.”

“How can you possibly know I’m–”

“I don't need to see you to know that, sweetheart,” Matt interrupts you gently, and the term of endearment settles warmly across your skin. “Where was I?” The question is asked rhetorically, so you don’t say anything, simply waiting with bated breath as the pads of his fingers continue to stroke over your cheek. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and you can’t help but sigh at the touch.

His hand moves softly down from your face until it’s cupping your jaw, tilting your head up towards his, the angle perfect for him to lean down and press his lips to yours, but he keeps his mouth hovering over yours for a second. You try to nudge forward, wanting his lips on yours more than anything, but he pulls back enough so that you’d have to rise on to your tip toes to put your mouth on his. He chuckles quietly.

“I think I get the point, Matt,” you say breathlessly, and if it were anyone else, you might be ashamed of how quickly you’ve lost control of yourself.

Another quiet laugh escapes him. “Greedy, are we?” He leans down again and rubs his nose over the tip of yours, and you can’t help the way your other hand reaches up and slides into his hair at the back of his neck.

“So are you.”

He takes a step forward so that now he’s completely pressed against you, no space left between your bodies. He is firm where you are soft, and the difference is intoxicating. “Yes, I am.”

And with that, his mouth is finally on yours.

The pressure is light, almost light enough that you’d think he wasn’t actually kissing you if it weren’t for the heat that he was pressing on your lips. He doesn’t move for a steady moment, simply allowing you both to enjoy the way it feels to be so close and leaning into each other. The hand resting on your jaw slides down so that it’s gently cradling your throat. If it were anyone else, you’d probably jerk away, nervous to have someone holding such a delicate part of you in their grasp.

But Matt isn’t anyone else, he is the man you’re pretty sure you’re in love with, and you trust him with every square inch of your body he wishes to touch.

The pressure on your lips increases, and you feel his mouth move against yours, gently coaxing it open. You follow his lead, allowing him to pull a lip slowly between his teeth, biting down lightly. Gasping, your grip on his tie tightens, and he takes advantage of the way your mouth has opened to let the sound out. He slides his tongue against yours for a brief moment, giving you a slight taste of the pure havoc he could wreak upon other parts of your body should you let him, before he pulls away.

He presses his forehead to yours, breathing just as heavily as you, much to your satisfaction. He sounds just as wrecked as you are at the moment.

“Is this still okay?” he asks quietly after a moment, the hand that had been cradling your throat coming back up to cup your cheek, the fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You nod, unable to form words with him so close to you, and his mouth remains just a few inches away from yours. Your heart is pounding in your throat, and you haven’t quite managed yet to catch your breath.

With a small smile, one that seems far too knowing, he leans back in, no doubt feeling the way your skin is burning beneath his touch.

The door to the office suddenly opens, but when your head pulls away and instinctively turns to look and greet whoever is walking through the door, Matt’s finger and thumb on your chin quickly draws you back so that you’re still facing him.

“It’s probably just Foggy,” he whispers, face still close enough to yours to feel his breath lightly caress your skin. Sure enough, there’s a loud exaggerated sigh before loud footsteps head down the small hallway, the door to Foggy’s office down the hall closing quietly without a word.

“How did you–”

His thumb moves from your cheek to brush lightly over your bottom lip, and you feel your cheeks flush again. “He called and said he would be here around 8am to work on the Erickson case. We have a conference call in a few minutes.”

“Ah,” you say, eyes flitting across his handsome face, admiring the way the morning sunlight makes his brown eyes look almost green. “That makes sense.”

There’s a look on Matt’s face that somehow manages to be a mixture of amused and heated. His fingers trail down your neck an down to your chest, running over your collar bone, before they journey back upwards, grasping your jaw again. You watch him the whole time, your body thrumming with an energy you don’t think you’ve ever felt before.

“How’s that for telling you what I’m thinking?” He asks, leaning forward again to brush his lips down your cheek. “Is this what you wanted?”

You huff out a quiet laugh. “Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting you to turn it into a moment where you kiss me breathless in the office, but I’m not going to complain.”

“And if I want to do it again?” He tilts your head to the side and does the same to your other cheek. “Would you let me?”

You gulp, hand tightening around the tie that’s still in your grasp. “I think I’d let you do whatever you wanted at this point.”

His expression darkens, but certainly not in a way that suggests anger. Instead, Matt almost looks like he’s two seconds away from hiking up your skirt, lifting you off your feet, and pinning you to the wall while he has his way with you.

Which…you'd totally be okay with.

“What a good girl,” he whispers, and the phrase sends another shock of blistering heat straight down your body.

The words, paired with the look on his face, are unlike anything you’ve experienced with him before, and it seems to open up a whole new part of Matthew Murdock that you’re suddenly very eager and willing to explore.

You’ve been introduced to sweet Matthew. Wickedly smart Matthew. Gentle Matthew. But dark and hungry Matthew is a whole new ball game. You’ve loved taking your time with him, loved the way he seems to handle you with such affection and care and soft consideration, but you know that when you both finally reach the point of no return, you’ll be completely blown away and taken apart by the man in front of you.

His lips are on yours again, still a gentle press despite the sharp look of longing on his face, and you know you’ll never tire of the way they feel when they’re pressed against you.

“Matt,” Foggy’s voice rings out through the office, almost effectively ruining the moment, which is probably a good thing with the way you currently want to tear off Matt’s clothes just to feel his skin pressed to yours. You turn your head and see that the other man has walked into the break room's line of sight, standing there with his hands on his hips as he takes in Matt pressing you into the wall. He flashes you a brief smile before rolling his eyes at his friend.

“Take your lips off of your girl and bring your shit into my office. We should run through a few things before we hop on that call.”

The comment causes your cheeks to flood, and you find yourself liking the sound of them, more and more with each passing millisecond.

Matt’s girl.

You don't really care about the rest of his sentence, to be honest, too hung up on those two specific words.

“Be right there, Fog.”

Foggy groans, and you can’t help but giggle despite the fact that he’s interrupted a very nice moment with Matt. “I was super nice and didn’t say anything when I walked in. Time to repay that kindness and do you fucking job.”

Matt laughs, still unaware of the words that are echoing in your head. Surely he must be able to feel the way your heart is pounding with him still so close to you. “One minute. I’ll be there in one minute.”

You see Foggy throw up his hands in exasperation before he turns and walks back into his office. Once the door is shut, your head turns and your eyes drift back up to Matt. The hunger has left his face, and has been replaced by the look of adoration he so often has when he’s focused on you. Sweet and gentle Matt is back, and you can’t help but smile.

“I’ve got to go, sweetheart,” he says, putting his glasses back on and taking a small step back, arm no longer resting against the wall. He leans down and presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “We’ll be done in an hour or so. Will you still be here?”

You shake your head with a light, regretful sigh. “No, Karen needs me down at The Bulletin to look through some things with Ellison this morning. But we’re all doing happy hour later, right?”

He nods with a smile of his own, the laugh lines you love so much becoming clearer on his face. “I’ll see you later, then.” He squeezes your hand gently, turning to walk down towards his partner’s office.

You’re not quite sure what drives you to reach back out to him, but you do it anyway, using his tie to yank him into you. All you know is that you’re not quite ready for him to leave you, needing just a few more moments of his full attention and lips on yours. Matt turns with a light gasp, mouth parted in shock.

“What–”

Before he can finish his question, you pull his head down towards yours, standing up on your tip toes to meet him halfway. His shock only lasts for a second before he’s returning the kiss with another flare of sharp heat, his arms wrapping themselves around you seemingly without thought. Whereas the previous kisses had been slow and sweet and soothing, this one is full of fire.

You break away almost as quickly as you had pulled him in, shifting your weight back down fully onto your feet, hand still wrapped around his tie. He lets out a startled laugh.

“What was that?”

“Your girl," is all you say. It’s not a question, because you’re not asking if you are, in fact, his girl; you’re telling him you are.

Matt doesn’t need an explanation for what you’re referring to, his mouth splitting into a wide smile that’s so blinding it almost hurts. He doesn’t hesitate when he opens his mouth in reply.

“My girl,” he confirms, and your heart can’t help but skip a beat. “I think I could be okay with that.”

You let out a gasp of mock indignation. “You think?”

“I’m still a bit undecided,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders that tries to appear nonchalant but fails. “It really just depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not you kiss me like that again,” Matt tells you with a smirk that shouldn’t be as endearing as it is.

With a fond roll of your eyes, you pull him back into you again, hand still wrapped around his tie, the other on the back of his head. His lips are almost on yours when Foggy’s frustrated growl reverberates through the office.

“Matt! I’m about to fire you if you don’t get your ass in here right. this. second!”

"We are equal partners in this Foggy," Matt responds, voice carrying easily, his attention still never wavering from your. "You can't fire me."

"I slept for all of thirty minutes last night," the other man snaps, and you can't help but giggle at the tired frustration in his voice. "You do not want to mess with me right now."

The man still leaning against you hesitates for a brief moment before he continues his descent towards you anyway, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that could very easily lead to more if either one of you had the time, before laughing and pulling away. He opens his mouth to say something, but is cut off.

"MATT!"

With one last grin and peck on your lips, Matt turns around and walks away. “Coming!”

You're left staring after him, hand reaching up to brush the ghost of his kiss that he left behind. With an utterly lovesick sigh that you can't hold back, you walk back towards your desk, sweeping up your purse and files into your arms, ready to make your way towards where you're meeting up with Karen.

You glance briefly at Foggy's office door, already missing the dark haired man inside, knowing that you'd willingly suffer a lifelong series of sharp and stinging paper cuts if it meant you'd always end up with his lips on yours.

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pinkpabli · 6 days

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Young and sleepy 💤

#mattfoggy #daredevil #daredevil comics #matt murdock #foggy nelson #digital drawing #my drawings #i love tjwm your honor they are married they are happy they are just babies okay

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gremlinbean · 2 months

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#i mean #theyre both goofy #but foggy is the goofier one and matt is drowning in his catholic guilt #i love them your honor #matt x foggy #mattfoggy #matt murdock #foggy nelson

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mugrisstuff · 7 months

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being back in my mattfoggy phase again makes it impossible for me to talk about anything else, sorry

#matt murdock #foggy nelson #mattfoggy #they are in love your honor

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high-quality-assorted-chaos · 21 days

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ugh foggy was so in love with matt and matt KNEW. he fucking KNEW

#HOW COULD HE NOT #even if he couldn’t hear his heartbeat all the time foggy was SO obvious about it #and matt still stayed with him and never held it against him they make me sickkk #they love each other your honor they’re just in denial #daredevil #matt murdock #foggy nelson #greyposting

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

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You know at the end of season 1 when Foggy visits Matt at Fogwell’s and Matt continues to hit the heavy bag for a bit while they’re talking? Yeah, he’s totally showing off for his husband.

HE TOTALLY IS

heard him coming from 3 blocks away and was like let me get extra sweaty and punch harder than I need to so I can distract my husband from being mad at me

#matty: let me distract him with my arms so he won’t yell at me #foggy: he’s doing this shit on purpose and it’s working your honor #I love them so much #matt murdock #foggy nelson #daredevil #court answers #court rambles

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comicsiswild · 2 years

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Daredevil (2011) #23

#daredevil #matt murdock #foggy nelson #i love them your honor #the boys #marvel #marvel comics

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bloodthirstyangel007 · 2 years

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Them ✨

#karen page #matt murdock #foggy nelson #artist #fanart #art #artists on tumblr #marvel #daredevil #digital art #procreate #charlie cox #i love them your honor

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farfromstrange · 1 year

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More from my Pinterest search that screams MattFoggy

left is just foggy and right is matt tolerating foggy’s shit

#mattfoggy #matt murdock #foggy nelson #pinterest texts #they’re gay your honor #exposing myself as a mattfoggy shipper #i just love them #they had a thing okay #i stand by that #they’re gay and in love

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tafuturepsy · 2 years

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Me, re-watching Prodigal Son and Daredevil simultaneously :

"ah yes, my two dumbass trashbag sons"

#malcolm bright #matt murdock #they're so stupid #always in danger #i love them your honor #Foggy and Gil would facepalm together #spending long nights talking about their respectful idiots #and their last stupid plan #it's a bad idea matt

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starryjax0 · 2 years

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“you look sad when you think he can’t see you.”

#matt murdock #foggy nelson #mattfoggy #matt and foggy #matt and foggy are in love your honor #daredevil #matt murdock needs a hug #and foggy nelson needs a break #netflix daredevil #daredevil netflix #matthew murdock #yeah it’s a Sherlock quote #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #legit all of matt’s smiling pics that people like involve foggy

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courtforshort15 · 2 years

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---

#daredevil #matt murdock #human disaster matt murdock #foggy nelson #i love him your honor #marvel #daily daredevil meme #foggy is the better lawyer #there i said it

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bellaxgiornata · 6 months

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Break the Tension [Chapter One "The Arrival"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: When Marci first asked you to be the Maid of Honor at her and Foggy’s wedding, you'd already been forewarned that your old college rival from Columbia, Matthew Murdock, would be Foggy’s Best Man. And while you'd expected a long weekend filled with tension between the pair of you, you hadn't anticipated all of the sexual tension–or the sex.

Warnings/tags: 18+; Enemies to lovers, sexual tension, smut, semi-public sex, light angst

a/n: This is a short series (planned for seven parts) and I just really needed to get the idea out of my head. This is definitely not my usual Matt x Reader dynamic nor the usual cocky Matt in an enemies to lovers fic; you'll see why even more in chapter two. Let's just say Matt needs the smug wiped off his face and I wanted to see him desperate. Feedback is always appreciated! The chapter list can be found here!

Tag list: @mattkinsella @danzer8705

The taxi driver hefted your suitcase out of the trunk of his car, setting it onto the circular gravel driveway beside you with an audible huff of exertion. You watched as he wiped a hand across his forehead, one hand still holding the hanger of your dress high above your head so the white garment bag wouldn't drag along the ground.

“Thank you,” you said, arm already growing tired from holding up your dress.

The man closed the trunk of the taxi, turning around and sending you a friendly smile. “Of course, miss,” he replied. “I hope you have a lovely weekend. Certainly looks like a nice place you’re staying at.”

You laughed lightly in return, wishing the man a good day before he turned and headed back to the driver’s side of the car. Lifting up the handle of your suitcase that you'd brought for the weekend, you turned and focused on the grand building before you. It was easily two levels tall with trails of ivy growing along most of the stone exterior between the numerous large windows. The manor itself was impressive with two wings branching off either side of the main building. The front driveway you were currently standing on led up to a walkway that wound between an impressive garden of hedges and flowers. In the center was a large fountain, and the peaceful sound of the water spewing forth met your ears once the taxi had finally driven off behind you.

The venue was massive, boasting quite an expansive plot of acreage that it was nestled inside–or so Marci had told you during all the wedding planning. A long, winding road encompassed by trees on either side had led up to Fairfield Manor, and not too far behind the manor you'd spotted what looked like a forest when the taxi had pulled up. You were positive if you consumed too much alcohol this weekend and wandered outside past sunset, you'd surely end up lost.

As much as Marci had shown you photos of the place, gushing over it repeatedly to you about how perfect it was for her and Foggy’s wedding, the photos certainly hadn’t done it justice.

Beginning to make your way up to the entrance of the manor, you walked towards the winding path which led through the stunning garden out front, carrying your dress and toting your luggage behind you. Seeing the place in person had left you wondering how Foggy and Marci had afforded this venue for an entire three days. You figured Foggy’s firm must’ve been doing well because Marci’s salary alone couldn't possibly have paid for everything. Though with how extravagant it was, it most certainly screamed Marci.

This weekend the entire bridal party, along with Marci and Foggy’s immediate family, were staying here for the duration of the wedding festivities. Tonight you were practicing the rehearsal for the wedding ceremony here at the venue before heading to a nearby restaurant for the rehearsal dinner. Tomorrow was the big wedding day itself, which meant an early morning start for hair and makeup during breakfast, followed by an incredibly long day and probably a drunken evening. Then on Sunday Marci had scheduled a late morning brunch before everyone departed the manor, allowing a bit more time to visit before the newlyweds left for their honeymoon.

Coming to a stop before the large, ornate wooden door that seemed to tower over you, you released the handle of your luggage long enough to push it open. Immediately you were met with the sound of voices and loud, boisterous laughter coming from a hall to your right as the door swung wide into the foyer. Though as you began to pull your suitcase into the building, still juggling your garment bag in your other hand, your ears picked up on the sound of a familiar voice. One you hadn't heard in a long time.

One that instantly set you on edge.

It was annoying that he was here. Of course you'd expected it–Marci had warned you ahead of time–but actually seeing him again this weekend was going to be another story.

Matthew Murdock. The cocky fuck boy of Columbia who thought he was smarter than you, always going out of his way to show you up and point out your every mistake because one time you had embarrassed him by correcting him in class. He was an asshole, always so irritatingly ethical for a man who slept around without a care for anyone's feelings. Though of course he'd never flirted with you , always choosing to argue with you instead. And when graduation day had come, he'd certainly rubbed it in your face that he'd been top of the class.

Though what he hadn't known was that you'd spent most of your time busting your ass working at a coffee shop just to try to pay what the scholarships wouldn't cover of your tuition while your mother was struggling with a cancer diagnosis. Thankfully she'd gone into remission not long after you'd graduated, but still, Matthew Murdock had made college miserable for you on top of everything you’d had going on. And you'd despised him for it.

So you certainly weren't excited to see him this weekend.

Setting your luggage down and turning back around to close the heavy door after yourself, you forced yourself to take a deep breath and remain calm. You were here for Marci, after all. This weekend was a big moment for her and you were excited and grateful to be a part of everything. She was one of your best friends. And truthfully you'd never had issues with Franklin Nelson. He had at least always been cordial and friendly to you.

So you weren’t going to think about him .

The moment you’d shut the door with a solid thud , you heard your name being excitedly called from behind you. Spinning around with a smile already plastered across your face, you spotted Marci with outstretched arms racing towards you across the foyer. Her short, flowy white dress fluttered around her legs as she nearly jumped on you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“You’re finally here!” she exclaimed. “I was wondering when you’d show up!”

"Sorry, I got caught up at work," you told her, squeezing her just as tightly back the best you could with your dress still in hand. "Had some details to finalize before I was gone for the weekend and you know how Sheridan gets."

Marci pulled away from you, rolling her eyes at the mention of your boss.

"I do, in fact," she answered. "But you're here now so let's not talk about work! Come on, let's get your things to your room. It's almost time for the rehearsal."

Grabbing your luggage handle you followed Marci down the hallway, wheeling your bag behind you in one hand and now no longer as concerned about the garment bag dragging along the floor in your other, your arm tired from holding it above your head for so long already. As the pair of you walked, you could see a group of others that you assumed were the bridal party already congregating about midway down the hall, drinks in their hands and dress clothes on. The sight was a reminder that you’d still have to change quickly before the events of the evening because you hadn’t wanted to stay in the dress slacks and blouse you had worn to work earlier for the duration of the evening.

"I take it I'm the last one to arrive then?" you asked Marci.

The sound of both of your heels clicking along the marble floor echoed around the elaborate hallway as the pair of you walked. Your eyes scanned each painting lining the walls that you passed, noticing each one was a beautiful watercolor of a picturesque scene. Overhead you noticed the ornate chandeliers hanging down, the crystal glinting in the light. Truthfully this place was stunning.

"Yes, but that's alright," Marci answered, waving a hand. "I appreciate that you sent a text as a forewarning though. But," she continued, glancing at you over her shoulder and wincing before she leaned in to whisper, "that also means you're the last to pick a room. So you sort of…don't get to pick."

Shoulders sagging, you shot Marci a flat look. "What's that supposed to mean? Is the heat not working in it or something? Or it's haunted by a hundred year old ghost?"

Marci shook her head, a sheepish smile on her face. "No, it just means the only room left is the one…next to Matt’s," she answered softly.

You came to an abrupt halt, stopping dead in your tracks and closing your eyes. Your first instinct was to turn around and call that taxi back to see if you could catch a ride back to the city. It was bad enough you'd have to be cordial to Matt this weekend, but you certainly did not want to interact with him more than necessary.

But you were here for Marci this weekend, you reminded yourself again. It was only for a few days that you’d be staying here and having to run into him, and then you'd go back to never running into him again in the city. And it would be heaven. Inhaling a deep breath, you forced a smile onto your face as you focused back on Marci.

“I know you both never really got along but–”

"It’s okay," you replied slowly, shaking your head. "So our rooms are next to each other for a few days? Not a big deal," you said, trying to convince yourself just as much as Marci. "Doesn't mean I'll have to talk to him. Or see him. Or anything more than necessary."

"Right," Marci agreed, nodding quickly. "Exactly. You two only need to interact for the wedding and the rehearsal a bit.”

With a sigh you grabbed your luggage, continuing to make your way back down the hall with Marci at your side. But as the pair of you began to pass the group of bridal party members already loudly conversing with Foggy, you heard them call out to Marci, begging her to stay and join them. Attention shifting to the group, your eyes almost instantly landed on Matt standing just beside Foggy. Your jaw clenched at the sight of him, your hand tightening around the handle of your luggage as your back stiffened.

He was dressed in a nice pair of slacks, a white dress shirt with a dark red tie, and a dark suit coat. He'd apparently switched out those black rectangular glasses he always wore in college, exchanging them for some round ones with red lenses. Admittedly they looked good on him, which only annoyed you further. Because of course he'd grown more attractive in the years since you'd last seen him–he even seemed broader and somehow more muscular under that fitted suit coat with the buttons of his dress shirt straining at the seams. Though you had a strong feeling he was probably still the same flirty asshole you remembered him as, maybe even worse now since he could throw around that he had his own law firm. And the stupid smile on his face as his head turned in your direction only irritated you.

"I'll be back in a minute," Marci told the group. She said your name, telling them you'd just arrived. "I was going to show her to her room. Help her get settled first."

"No, that's alright. Go on," you assured her, gesturing your head to the group. "I can find the room on my own. I need to change anyway and then I can join everyone."

"You sure?" Marci asked carefully, focusing back on you.

"Yeah, don't worry about me," you replied.

And that’s when you heard it. Matt saying your name, the sound of it on his lips causing your eyes to narrow as your head turned slowly back towards him. It had been so long since you’d heard him say it, yet it still had your blood boiling almost instantly. The smug smirk that quickly grew on his mouth wasn't helping, either.

"Showing up late?” Matt teased you. “Even after all these years, you still need to make everyone wait on you?”

You bit back the comment forming on your tongue. This was not the time nor the place and you certainly weren’t going to let him openly get a rise out of you in front of everyone. Though it didn’t escape your notice when Foggy nudged Matt’s shoulder, leaning in and whispering something to him.

“Some of us had work to finish, Murdock ,” you countered briskly. Turning your attention back to Marci, you told her, “I’ll get changed fast and be right out. I won’t keep you waiting on me.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand,” Marci told you, shooting Matt a glare that you know Foggy saw. “We’ll be here a bit longer before we head down to the ceremony location out in the courtyard. And your room is just at the end of the hall,” she continued, pointing down the hallway. “Room twelve. On the right.”

You thanked her before continuing the rest of the way towards your room, fuming internally because you’d been here a matter of minutes and Matt was already getting under your skin. It didn’t bode well for the rest of this weekend.

You stood with your arms crossed over your chest and your focus fixed straight ahead on the wedding coordinator who was currently running over details about tomorrow’s ceremony with Foggy and Marci. The rest of the bridal party had been paired and lined up at the back of the courtyard behind you, all of you patiently awaiting instructions on what to do next.

There was a lot of chatter coming from the group behind you, too. All of the other bridal party members were taking the time to get to know their partners, animatedly talking to each other. Unfortunately you being the Maid of Honor when Matt was the Best Man meant you two were stuck together for the wedding events this weekend. Currently you were doing your best to ignore his irksome presence beside you as he continued to tap his cane against the stone pavement, the repetitive sound causing you to grind your teeth back and forth. It didn’t help that you were forced to stand so close to him that you could feel the warmth of his body along your bare right arm, the heat of it raising goosebumps. But it was only because it was early fall and a little chilly outside; you couldn’t help it that the bit of warmth happened to feel good.

“So are you just planning to ignore me the entire weekend?” Matt asked softly, leaning slightly towards you as he spoke.

“I would prefer to, yes,” you answered simply.

Matt laughed bitterly, shaking his head. The gesture caught your attention and you glanced at him beside you through narrowed eyes.

“What?” you asked him.

“Just can’t believe you haven’t changed after all these years,” he replied.

Eyebrows shooting up onto your forehead at his comment, you gaped at him. Was he serious ?

“That’s funny coming from the self-important asshole who upon hearing I’m here decides to immediately make a rude comment,” you shot back. “Pretty sure you haven’t changed one bit, Murdock.”

“And you’re apparently still stuck on using my last name,” he quipped back, his head turning towards you as that smirk you hated tugged at his lips. “Why is that, I wonder?”

He leaned over just a bit, his mouth gradually lowering beside your ear. You felt a shiver run up your spine when his warm breath grazed your neck. You told yourself it was due to the chill of the evening and not whatever effect he thought he had on you.

“Is it because you’ve always been afraid that you might actually enjoy saying my name? That you might like the taste of it on your tongue, sweetheart?” he purred in your ear.

“Don’t call me that,” you hissed back, your hard stare focused ahead of you once again. “I’m not like those other women, Murdock. Don’t use that patronizing pet name of yours to lump me in with everyone else that bullshit works on. Because your so-called ‘charm’ doesn’t work on me.”

“Mmm,” he hummed out, straightening back up beside you. “You sure it doesn’t?”

A second later you felt his fingertips lightly brush against your thigh, grazing your skin just beneath the hem of your dress. You sucked in a breath and held it, your eyes falling shut at the warmth of his calloused touch. Matt had never flirted with you before–and he’d certainly never touched you before. You’d only ever seen him try to work his charm on other women, so what the hell was he doing right now? Was he actually interested in you?

Though when he chuckled softly beside you, your eyes immediately flew open again. Your heart began to pound hard in agitation as opposed to whatever it was that had sped it up a moment ago. Because the cocky asshole had done that on purpose . He was fucking with you, just like he’d always done in college. Except this time it felt significantly more embarrassing because, for the briefest of moments, it had felt good when he’d touched you.

“Seems like it might, sweetheart,” he whispered back.

“Use my name if you have a need to speak with me, Murdock,” you ground out between clenched teeth, your cheeks heating. “Though I’d prefer if we kept our interactions limited this weekend so we don’t ruin things for Marci and Foggy.”

“Oh you’ve grown so much more bossy ,” Matt teased in delight. “That makes ignoring what you want that much more fun, sweetheart.”

As the wedding coordinator began to make her way back towards the bridal party still lined up, you expelled a sharp breath from your nose. Your hands balled into fists as you hugged your arms tighter over your chest, your nails biting into your palms. This weekend was going to be far worse than you’d imagined. Initially you’d hoped that Matt had grown up since graduation, willing to let whatever it was that made him a prick to you go for a few days for the sake of his best friend’s wedding.

But instead he was still so… Matthew Murdock . Had he really not grown since college? Matured into an actual adult? Why the hell was he like this? Because you’d only ever seen him treat you this way, and it was infuriating.

“Alright ladies and gentleman,” the wedding coordinator announced.

Stopping just a few feet before you and Matt, she clapped her hands together to quiet the group. A smile spread across her mouth when the chatter came to a stop and you placed all of your focus on her and not Matt, though you could see that smug smile on his lips out of the corner of your eye.

“You’ll be starting the processional inside, just past those doors behind you, for the actual ceremony tomorrow,” she continued, gesturing to the French doors you’d all come out of a few minutes ago before lining up. “But for the sake of time we’ll start out here. You’ll be paired up with whomever you’re walking down the aisle with, moving one at a time down the aisle that’ll be here tomorrow when the chairs are set up. Then the pair of you part before the stone steps for the ceremony just there,” she said, turning at the waist and pointing to where Foggy was already standing and looking nervous. “Once the couple before you parts, the next one proceeds down the aisle. So let’s practice that for now, shall we?”

The woman had turned, making to get out of the way of the line for the processional, but then her eyes caught you and Matt standing beside each other. Her brows creased as she abruptly came to a stop, turning back around and pointing a finger between the pair of you.

“You two–Best Man and Maid of Honor–you need to link arms while you walk down the aisle,” she said. “Go on, just like the others behind you.”

At her comment, Matt’s arm rose up beside you, brushing against your own arm as he offered it out to you. You looked over at it, your lip pulling back in slight distaste. You did not want to have him escort you down the aisle now or tomorrow. And that sentiment was made all the more true when your gaze slid up, noticing Matt was smiling down at you in sheer amusement. He was clearly enjoying your discomfort.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Matt urged. “Let me escort you.”

Rolling your eyes in annoyance, you slipped your arm through his before grabbing onto his bicep. But as soon as your fingers lightly curled around his suit coat, you could feel the thick muscle of his arm beneath your hand. Swallowing hard, you pushed that observation as far from your mind as you could. It wasn’t a fact you needed to remember about him.

But as the pair of you began to make your way towards the stone steps where the ceremony would take place tomorrow, Matt’s cane lightly tapping along the stone as you led him there, you couldn’t help but notice his head had turned a bit towards you. And unless your eyes were deceiving you, it looked like he was focused on you behind his red lenses.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock smut #matt murdock angst #matt murdock #daredevil

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peterman-spideyparker · 1 year

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In Suspense (Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey lovelies! Because I was indecisive and didn’t know what fic to post first, I let a Tumblr poll decide out of three, and this one was the winner! I admit, it’s a bit self-serving, but good gravy I love this man. Enjoy! :)

Summary: Matt’s riding a high from a good day in court, and you’ve had a crappy day—your only perk having been being able to work from home. When Matt finally gets to the loft and you catch a glimpse of a particular piece of attire, you just can’t help yourself.

Warnings: Domestic fluff, established relationship, smut (oral—m and f receiving, needy and a bit rough, unprotected p in v sex, praise/Matt bring flirty and cocky, creampie), swearing/dirty talk

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 1,937

“Hey sweetheart,” you hear Matt call as he enters the loft.

“Matt!” you say surprised, putting your laptop on the table and moving over to meet him halfway. His glasses, briefcase, and cane have all been discarded by the door, and he begins to loosen his tie. “Court let out early?”

“Yep,” he smiles, placing his hands gently on your waist as he pulls you in for a sweet kiss. “It also helps that it was a Friday afternoon and that I caught the prosecutions’s star witness in a lie during cross, got a confession on the stand, and saved my client from a wrongful imprisonment.”

“Matt, that’s amazing!” you cheer, wrapping him in a big hug. There’s a wonderful, prideful glow about him, feeling a strong sense of pride for what he was able to do for his clients. You mirror his joy, feeling nothing but admiration and amazement for him and how he helps the people who really need it. You press a sweet kiss to his cheek before you lean back and look at him, running your fingers through his hair as you cradle the back of his head. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“I do like the challenge of one-upping myself.”

You give him another kiss before you run your hands down his arms.

“I’m gonna clock out early and I’ll run down the the little market a couple of blocks over and I’ll get what I need to make your favorite for dinner. Tonight, we’re celebrating.”

“I think we can achieve that same level of celebration with some takeout. Now it’s just a matter of deciding the kind of cuisine.”

“Well, now, that’s something for the man of honor to decide.”

“Personally, I don’t think we can ever go wrong with Thai.”

“Then Thai it is,” you beam. “Usual?”

“Usual.”

“Now that you’ve heard about my day, how was yours, sweetheart?”

“Not nearly as eventful as yours,” you sigh. “Long. Stressful. Not things Fridays should be.”

“I’m sorry, angel. But the day is almost done, I’m home, and no one can give feel-better cuddles like me. Actually, Foggy probably could.”

“He is a master snuggle bear. But I have my cuddle devil on call whenever I need him.”

“Damn right, you do,” he confirms with a long, sweet kiss and a quick smack to your butt before you both move toward the kitchen. As you walk, he takes off his suit jacket, and you stop mid-movement when you catch what’s underneath.

“Matty, are you wearing suspenders?” you ask, feeling a blush rush to your cheeks while you watch him roll up his sleeves to his elbows.

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t suspenders more of a tuxedo piece of attire for you?”

Matt gives a little shrug and pout of his lips. “I just felt like mixing it up today.”

“Well,” you breathe, closing the space between Matt and you once more. “In the interest in mixing it up, I think we should continue with the theme.” Matt’s eyebrows arch in confusion and anticipation as that beautiful lopsided smirk graces his lips. Hooking your thumbs under the elastic, gently sliding them down the fabric and stopping at the middle of his pecs, barely an inch between your faces. “Dessert before dinner?”

The smile that curls on Matt’s lips and the mischievous glint in his eye speaks louder than words as he pulls you in for a panty-soaking kiss. You moan into his mouth and pull his body impossibly close to yours by the textured fabric of his suspenders.

“This really does something for you, huh?” Matt chuckles against your lips.

“Oh, yeah, Matty,” you hum, running your hands up and over his shoulders. “You have no idea what this does for me.”

Feeling the soft locks of his hair, you cup the back of his head and pull him back into you the short distance for another deep kiss, causing your bodies to fall onto the couch. With the solid flop on the couch making squeaky leather sounds, you both giggle into the kiss as you continue to embrace. As Matt’s hands cradle your face, he chases your lips, planting big, quick, open kisses on you that make your lips tingle. You move to unbutton his crisp white shirt, feeling his soft scarred skin underneath the soft cotton fabric.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” you murmur into his mouth before he pulls back and sucks on your neck, marking you up for all to see.

“I guess I should wear suspenders more often,” he nips at your earlobe.

“Then we’d be doing this all the time.”

“I’m not opposed to that, angel—don’t put the idea in my head.”

You smile and giggle as you move in for more kisses, moaning as his hands glide up your body and his tongue explores your mouth.

“Mmm,” you whimper as you grind against him. His grip tightens on your hips, pushing the fabric of your shirt up on your skin. You pull your lips from his and suck marks into his neck, sucking at his earlobe occasionally. “Wanna suck you off. Wanna bounce on your cock, too.”

Matt slides his hands over your body, squeezing your breasts before running his fingers through your hair, holding you incredibly close as he kisses you, letting you sneak down between his legs, freeing him just enough from his pants and boxers where you can give him a few pumps and swallow him whole—the fact that he’s still relatively soft making the entire thing easier. Matt moans in delight as you drag your lips up and down his shaft, tracing the prominent vein in his cock with the tip of your tongue, further using it to your advantage as you lick the underside of the mushroom head before kissing the tip of his cock slowly, your lips wrapping around the hot, pink flesh.

Your time on your knees with Matt down your throat doesn’t last long, as he pulls you up and leans your body backward on the sofa so you’re completely at his mercy. He pulls his lips from yours and presses kisses down your neck and exposed collarbone before pulling your shirt off of your body.

“No bra, sweetheart?” he chuckles as his hands settle on your exposed ribcage, his thumbs brushing just under your breasts.

“No need—perks from working at home,” you smile as you run your hand through his hair.

“Works great for me,” he says with a lick of his lips, dipping his face down, taking one of your breasts into his mouth while his hand grabs at the other one. Your back arches as you moan loudly into the apartment, Matt sucking at your nipple and licking at the supple flesh. You feel him roll your other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, getting it nice and pebbled before putting his mouth on it, mimicking the motion with the other nipple.

“Fuck, sweetheart, your tits are so perfect,” he pants as he kisses you right above your racing heart. Taking your breasts in his large hands, he pushes your breasts together, burying his face right into them and moaning into the skin.

“Matty,” you whine. “Fu . . . Ooh. Matty, eat me out. Please, Matty, need your mouth on me.”

Matt kisses your neck again before pulling off, making quick work of your pants. You lean up, pulling his shirt off and throwing it somewhere in the living room before he guides you back down and spreads your legs wide, grazing his hands over your aching core before sliding two fingers into you, pumping them just so.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he coos. “Shit . . . So fucking wet f’me, too.”

Dipping down, he wraps his lips around your clit and you moan, arching your back and tossing your head to the side as he eats you out and stretches you wide.

“Matt!” you cry. “Matty! Fuck . . . Fuck, baby, I need your cock.”

“Thought you wanted my mouth?” he hums into your core.

“Matt, please! ‘M gonna cum. Wanna do it on your cock.”

He slowly pulls his fingers from you and kisses up your body. “Of course, baby. You’re such a good girl. I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart, I’ll give you my cock.”

Completely ridding himself of his suspenders and slacks, the fabric blend joins the rest of your clothes on the floor. He pumps himself in one hand while he uses his other to adjust you on the couch, pinning you in a pocket of the cushions that creates the most comfort for the both of you. Tapping your pussy with his dick a few times, he gathers up the slick dripping from between your legs and slowly pushes all the way in, your moans harmonizing in the apartment as he moves to completely bottom out. His lips move against yours in a passionate kiss, the both of you doing your darnedest to chase your desires. As you go back and forth, Matt starts fast, shallow thrusts, hitting everything just right.

“Feel so good like this,” he breathes against your neck. “Perfect, angel. Made for me.”

“Right there!” you squeak as you try to hold onto his back, your nails scratching at his soft, scarred skin. “Right there, Matty! Just like that!”

The leather of the cushions squeak as the feet of the sofa scratch against the old hardwood of the loft with each of Matt’s thrusts. Your moans and cries of pleasure come out of you on their own volition as Matt ruts into you over and over. You hold onto him as you feel your orgasm build, and you cling to him as if your life depends on it when you finally feel your release wash over you. He holds onto you and gives you the support you need as you experience nothing but pleasure, his hips keeping a relatively steady pace as he cums inside of you shortly after you clench around his length, pushing the hot ropes of his release deep inside of you.

“Mm, congrats on your win, counselor,” you hum, completely blissed out as you kiss his forehead, temple, cheek, and finally his lips.

Matt gives you a happy-hazy smile as he kisses the expanse of skin from your shoulders up to your neck.

“Sorry you had a crappy day, angel,” he says with a kiss to your sweet spot.

“It’s been less crappy since you got home.” That’s when it hits you, and you can’t help but laugh. “Oops.”

“What?” Matt chuckles into your neck, pressing a kiss into one of the hickies he left on your skin.

“I didn’t clock out—I just had sex and got paid.”

“Like a prostitute?” he offers, only making the pair of you laugh harder.

“Oh my—not funny!”

“Objection—it’s hilarious. Can you imagine?”

“Okay, sustained,” you laugh as you roll into him, resting your head on his muscly arm, the image he put in your head truly too ridiculous to not be funny.

“C’mon. Clock out so when this happens again later—.”

“‘Again later’?”

“Yeah. I’m still in a celebratory mood, and I’ve gotta make sure my girl forgets all about her crappy day.”

You hum in agreement as Matt kisses your forehead once more, adjusting you so you can get cozy on the couch together in his arms. Moving as little as you can from him, you grab your phone and clock out, kissing along the lines of a red angry scratches you left in his skin as he holds you close, making sure you both recharge for round after round tonight.

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