#matt murdock fics
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Pinky Promise
~ This definitely ended up longer than I meant it to be but no regrets, Matt is so adorable in this.
~ Fluff, Angst but not really? More like play fighting. Reader is referred to as Matt's girlfriend but other than that gender neutral. WC: 1,939
~ Matt tells you he's Daredevil
You have been filled with anxiety all day after a text from Matt. This morning he asked you to come to his apartment as soon as you could after work. He wouldn't say anything else about it, just that it was very important.
Matt has a habit of not believing he deserves good things. Throughout your relationship, you have done everything in your power to prove him wrong. But still, when he says he needs to talk to you, about something really important, your mind falls to the worst-case scenario.
“Matty, I'm here.” You announce as you walk into your boyfriend's apartment.
“Oh hey, sweetheart.” He greets you at the door, as he always does. He is the perfect gentleman.
“Hi.” You let out, trying not to let your anxiety be too obvious. “What did you want to talk about?”
He opens his mouth to say something before immediately shutting it again. “I ordered some food. It should be here anytime.”
“Is there a reason you're trying to change the subject?” He grabs your hands and leads you over to the couch. Sitting down, he pulls you down onto his lap.
“No, I'm just letting you know. I know how you get about your food.”
“Mhm. And is that the only reason?”
“I have to tell you something.” Oh no. You know what this is about. This day had to come eventually.
“Okay, what is it?” You let out a soft sigh. It wasn't hard to figure out once you got together.
“I don't want you to be mad at me.”
“Matt I won't get mad, I promise.”
“How do you know?” His eyes show you how worried he is.
“Because I love you.” You grab his hand and lean into him more. “And unless you're about to tell me that you cheated, I won't be mad.”
“What! I would never!”
“I know, baby. It was just an example.” You almost laugh at the surprised expression that covers his face.
“Well, you know how I became blind.” He begins.
You were right, he's about to tell you he's Daredevil. Yes, you already know. For two reasons. One, a blind man can't do everything he does, the way he caught you when you fell on one of your dates, or the way he knows where things are without being told. Two, Foggy. He didn't mean to tell you but you had your suspicions and you may have tricked Foggy into secretly confirming for you.
Foggy has no idea what he said allowed you to know the truth and you never told him so he wouldn't feel bad about accidentally exposing his best friend's secret. You're not proud of it but your curiosity got the best of you.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Uhh, it did more than make me lose my sight.” You weren't able to confirm anything about the accident but if Matt is Daredevil then something had to have happened for it to be possible.
“What else did it do?”
“It heightened all of my other senses.” You squeeze his hand to encourage him to continue. “I can hear things from very far away and smell things better than normal.” No shit.
“How much better?” As much as you already know, there are a lot of specifics you still don't understand.
“I can smell what you have eaten all day, I can hear your heart beating and I can tell when you're making a face.” That's a lot more than you thought. “I can hear everyone in this building and mostly tell what they're doing.”
You immediately scramble off his lap.
“Did I weird you out?” The lace of sadness in his voice breaks your heart.
“No it's not you, I'm just weirdly aware of myself now.” You assure him. You don't know how to describe it like you're going over everything you did in the day to try and figure out what Matt can tell.
“You don't have to be, sweetheart. You're not the weird one here.”
“Matt, you're not weird. You're perfect. You can't control what happened to you or what it caused these senses. I don't know. You can smell me and hear me? It's just a lot.”
“That's not even the part I'm trying to tell you.”
“Matt, I have to be honest with you. I know.” You whisper.
“You know?” He asks in shock. “Know what?”
“That you're Daredevil.” Your voice grows even quieter.
“What? How?” He exclaims, standing up to meet you.
“I don't know. One day I was just thinking and kinda put it together!”
“When?” His voice booms around the small apartment.
“A few months ago. There was this clip of Daredevil on the news and he looked so familiar so I started thinking about the injuries you get, how you disappear at night, how you can catch me when I fall. It became really obvious and then..” You stop your rant, not wanting to expose Foggy. Even though he had no idea what the conversation was about, you still feel terrible.
“And then?”
“I may have tricked Foggy into confirming it for me.” Matt’s face quickly shows anger and disbelief. “I swear he has no idea I know anything, he didn't mean to confirm anything.”
“Why didn't you just ask me?” Is he serious right now?
“Because you never would've told me! We've been together for almost a year now and you're just now trusting me with this! I'm the one that gets to be pissed right now, not you!”
“Okay you're right I should have told you but I was just scared that..”
“No.” You hold your hand out and interrupt him. “I swear Matt, if the next thing you say is that you were protecting me, I will beat your ass.”
“That was one of the reasons, yes.” You step forward, fully intent on keeping your word. “Let me explain.” He smiles and pushes you away.
“Fine but it better be good.” You cross your arms and raise your eyebrows to show how serious you are.
“I wasn't just worried about your safety, I was worried that you would feel different about me. Maybe even leave me.”
“Matt, I love you. And I know you doubt yourself but I would never leave you for that. You could kill a million people and I wouldn't leave you.”
He gives you a very concerned look. “That's not good, we need to talk about that.”
“Eh.” You wave him off. “We need to talk about all this shit,” You move your hands over his body. “All this self-deprecating shit you do.”
“Oh well, I'm so sorry for believing you deserve the world.” He says as sarcastically as possible.
“Exactly. Think more like that.” You nod.
“I'm not gonna do that.”
“We are getting off topic.”
“Is there more to talk about?” You can tell he's worried about you knowing the details.
“We are one month away from our first anniversary and you're just telling me this now, that's not okay Matthew!”
“I know! I didn't want to wait this long but the more I thought about telling you the more I thought about losing you and I can't handle that.”
“Wait so why did you want to tell me today? Are you okay with losing me today?” You half-joke.
“No, because Karen told me if I didn't she would, and I know you should hear this from me.”
“Yeah you're right but this needed to happen forever ago!”
“I'm so sorry I didn't tell you, sweetheart, I know I should've. But out of curiosity, when would've been the best time to tell you?” He asks sincerely, sitting back on the couch.
“Why? Want advice for your next girlfriend?” You can't help but tease. Sitting back down on his lap.
“I'm never gonna have another girlfriend.”
“Oh yeah? And you're sure about that?”
“What does that mean?” He asks in fake concern, used to your teasing antics.
“I don't know. What do you think it means?”
“This isn't funny.” He says while he laughs. “I can't tell if you're mad at me or me.”
“Oh, I'm very mad.”
“About me being Daredevil?”
“No, Matty about you keeping it from me. What you do for people in danger is amazing. I love that you use your senses selflessly. I mean I hate the fact that you get hurt in the process but clearly, you can handle yourself.”
“You don't know how relieved I am to hear you say that.”
“I'm glad I could help. But seriously the next time you keep a secret like this for that long, we're over.” You make eye contact with him as you say this, needing him to know you're not joking.
“I promise I won't.”
“Good! Now onto that not having a next girlfriend thing?”
“Ugh, do we have to?” He leans back, making you yelp as you fall into him.
“Yes, we have to. I want to hear you say it.”
“It means I want to marry you.” You giggle at his words.
“I knew it, you're obsessed with me.”
“Does that mean you want to marry me too?” He asks hopefully. You almost feel bad for your next words.
“Hmm. I'll tell you next year.”
He runs his hands over his face. “You are not funny.” He says that but you can see the smile he's hiding.
Before you can respond, the doorbell rings. Perfect timing. “You keep a secret, I keep a secret.” You shrug and head to answer the door.
When you go back to the couch and set the food on the coffee table, Matt pulls you into him once again.
“Someone's touchy today.”
“Just happy you're not trying to beat my ass.”
“I would win.”
“Oh definitely.” You feel him smile on your neck. “Are you gonna make me wait another year to propose?”
“Sorry baby but you know I don't marry someone before the second year.”
“You're killing me y'know.” He groans loudly in your ear, making you lean away from his ticklish breath.
“Maybe your next girlfriend will marry you before the first anniversary.” You yelp again as he pulls you even further into him, using his strength to make sure you're as close as possible.
“Sweetheart you are the last girlfriend I'll ever have.”
“Oh, I know I am.”
“Oh god, what does that mean?”
“It means if you ever have another girlfriend I'll haunt you for the rest of your life.”
“Haunt me? Are you dead in this scenario?” He asks in obvious confusion.
“Yes because I'm never gonna let you leave me.”
“I'm beginning to think you're a little crazy.”
“Crazy about you.” You wiggle your eyebrows.
“That was terrible.”
“That was amazing, I'm a great flirt.”
“Yes, you are.” He chuckles, in that amazing deep voice. “I'm sorry for not telling you sooner.”
“I'm sorry for not asking you directly and using Foggy.”
He holds his hand out to you, sticking out his pinky.
“What's this?”
“A pinky promise.”
“Oh, a pinky promise with the devil.”
“Stop that, I promise not to lie to you again and you promise to ask me things instead of tricking poor Foggy.”
“Okay fine. Pinky promise.” You link your finger with him.
“I love you.”
“Aww thank you.” You laugh at his surprised expression.
“Say it back.” He whines.
“I don't wanna.” You can't hide the smile on your face.
Matt takes a second to stop himself from smiling before making the biggest, most dramatic frown.
“Fine, I love you too.” You break out in giggles as he tackles you.
#matt murdock my beloved#matt murdock fluff#matt murdock imagines#matt murdock one shot#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock fic#matt murdock imagine#matt murdock reader insert#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock angst#matt murdock fanfic#matt murderdock x female reader#matt murdock fanfiction#matt murdock fics
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Daredevil
Matt Murdock
Healing Hands: Matt Murdock just needs some comfort after a night in Hell's Kitchen. Fortunately, he has you, whose touch and voice are better than any painkiller.
#daredevil masterlist#daredevil fics#daredevil imagine#daredevil x reader#matt murdock fics#matt murdock imagine#matt murdock x reader#bear writes
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dress - m. murdock
a/n: i am not proud of this in the way that i will not be claiming it when i am judged by god.
warnings: SMUT like real sex!!! dom!matt, p in v smut, matt has a thing for talking in bed, MATT BEING A TEASE!!! many nicknames, pining, praise with slight degradation, fluff here and there, tipsy reader and matt, i'm sure i'm missing one or two
word count: 3.3k
summary: ten months of yearning wears you and matt down to desperation.
pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader
now playing: dress - taylor swift
"say my name and everything just stops/i dont want you like a best friend/only bought this dress so you could take it off."
Foggy is so mad at him.
You’re a good employee, a great employee even! You’re dedicated to your job, and you bake in your free time, so you bring in all sorts of treats—Homemade bagels, donuts, cookies—His favorite are your cinnamon chai sugar cookies you make.
You’re intelligent, well-spoken, and good at explaining the issues that you run into. And you’re funny, Foggy would argue, you have incredible timing and wit. You always buy a round at Josies. You are an amazing employee and friend, and Foggy adores you.
So why, pray tell, must Matt feel the need to have you?
He won’t say it out loud, not to Karen, not to Maggie, not to Foggy, and certainly not you. But he’s entranced by you. He loves the sound of your voice as you explain things, he loves that your heart always skips a beat whenever you’re about to deliver a one liner that will crack everyone else up, he loves that when you bake, you always make things all naturally out of desire to make the best dessert you possibly can. But most of all?
He loves that your heart rate picks up whenever he enters the room.
You, on the other hand, are pretty much fascinated by Matt Murdock. You love the sound of his laughter, you love his hands, you love his charm, you love that you can see a chain around his neck when the day dwindles and he loosens his tie, and Jesus H Christ, you love that baritone.
So, it’s safe to say you’ve both been smitten since the first day you met each other.
Yet, you spend ten months cruelly dancing around your attraction for each other.
He’s hesitant to want you in any context, he’s your boss, he’s fucking Daredevil!
By then you know—Mostly accidentally on purpose. All his usual people are out of town or busy, so when he gets stabbed, he has nowhere else to go. He winds up climbing into your window, scaring the ever-living shit out of you. It’s not how he wanted to tell you about his alter ego, but he knows he can trust you.
And you hate the site of blood and gore, so you struggle to patch him up that night. And it makes your heart ache, all the ways he hurts from his nighttime hobby. And he decides right then and there that he can’t have you, not now. Not knowing how much you would—and really, will—worry about him.
So, he buries his want in other people that have no real meaning to him. He even goes on a second date with some of them. One of them even comes to visit him in the office to have lunch.
It makes you jealous to the point where you need to take a walk to dwindle your desire to go back into the office and beg on your hands and knees for her to leave so you can have him. What happens instead is that you go get a pumpkin chai latte and take it back to the office, sitting and keeping to yourself, even when the girl comes out of his office giggling as he stands in the doorway as she leaves.
He smells the pumpkin from his office, and it drives him wild. Just from how quietly you dwell in your jealousy, as you mask it with your favorite fall flavors.
He breaks up with the girl the next day.
• • •
And a week later, he gets his official invitation to Marci and Foggy’s wedding—A big to do, full of family, friends and coworkers that make it a real party. Matt will be Foggy’s best man. You and Karen aren’t in the wedding party, as you were good friends with both the bride and groom, but Karen wanted to make sure at least one of them was focused on the firm, and you hated to be the center of attention. So, you shared your love from a few aisles back.
You had gone shopping with Marci for your dress, Karen too. You enjoyed spending time with them—While you had made friends with them easily, prior friends had never really come easy to you.
It was nice to be wanted.
But they had insisted on you trying to find different dresses that made you look amazing. And for the most part, the dresses made you sort of uncomfortable. They revealed too much or revealed too little.
And then you came across this red satin dress. It hugs your curves in all the right way, and it makes you look good. It makes you feel good. You have these perfect black heels to wear with them, and then Karen says it.
“You know, Matt kind of has a thing about textures. He loves silk and satin.” Your face burns. Of course, he does. Why wouldn’t he? He can hear people's heartbeats, tell when they’re lying, why wouldn’t he be keen on nice textures?
“Karen Page, are you insisting I should by this dress to impress a man?” You laugh just to escape your nerves.
“No! But it can’t hurt! It’s not like he’s bringing a date—” She turns to Marci. “He’s not bringing a date, right?” she asks quickly. It makes her laugh.
“No, Murdock RVSP’ed for one.” You look at yourself in the mirror again, thinking it over. And over. And over. Then you turn to your friends again, and nod.
“Alright. Alright, I’ll get it.” You grin, “And y’know.. Karen’s right, It can’t make the situation any worse.”
“You know what you need now? Good lingerie for after—” Your face is red again at your friend’s comment.
“Shut up, Marci!” You whine, heading back to the dressing room to get changed.
• • •
Matt is sitting with Foggy and his brothers, enjoying a glass of scotch before the ceremony when someone knocks on the door.
And somehow, he’s not shocked to hear your nervous heartbeat when the door opens.
“Hey Fog, Karen said you had scissors—Can I borrow ‘em quick? There’s a tag on this dress I forgot to take off and it’s impossible to reach—”
“Yes, Absolutely, and you know who would be great at helping you? Matt. An incredible knack for… Cutting things.” It’s a poor attempt to get the two of you alone, yet Foggy hands you the scissors and pushes you and Matt outside the room.
“My rooms only two doors down.” He explains, taking your hand in his and leading you there.
After finding out about his super senses, it became clear that he was more than capable of finding his way through places he’s stayed, and that he’s privy to a lot more information than people would give him credit for.
So here you are. In Matt Murdock’s hotel room. A tag itching at your back, with you unable to grab it.
“I’m just gonna—” He awkwardly reaches to the top of your dress, and you just move the hair from your neck and try to ease his anxiety.
“Just go for it, Matt. I don’t care, it’s just annoying.” You promise. And he does.
He folds the top of your dress the best he can and its only enough for the scissors to almost grab the tag without him sticking his hand down your dress. He hesitates for a second before exhaling deeply.
Then, he leans down towards your back, and scrunches the material enough so that he can reach the tag and bites the tag off.
You can feel his other hand on your hip. His hot breath on your back. He hears your heart jump as your breath becomes shaky. He wonders how bad it would be for him to skip the wedding and take you right here, in this room.
He plucks the tag from his teeth and smooths out your dress, as you let go of your hair. He feels this raw need for you.
And you feel it too. Yet he pulls away, taking a step back from you.
“We should get to the ceremony.” he said, trying to catch his breath. He yearns for you, in a way that anyone else would laugh at. It’s the type of yearning you read about in Jane Austen novels. That is the level that Matt longs to touch you. It’s desperation.
“Yeah...” You say softly, trying to recover from what just happened. You drop him back off at Foggy’s suite and head back to the hall, hoping to find Karen and put the moment behind you. And that’s just what happens. You watch the ceremony, and it’s gorgeous. You’re thrilled for Marci and Foggy, and it elates you that they put together such a beautiful ceremony.
And yet, you can’t take your eyes off Matt and how good he looks. He stands tall, and he really does look good. It makes it kind of hard to focus. It makes it really hard to focus. And you think about this all the way through their first dance song, through dinner, through cake and through all the cheesy wedding traditions Foggy insisted on.
You have a few drinks but eventually it all becomes too much, and you take a minute outside of the hall and into the cold air. And you’re thinking about Matt.
“You’re gonna catch a cold out here.”
Speak of the devil.
You turn back to him and smile.
“I’ve been thinking about you.” You say, and he hums. It’s the alcohol in both of your systems, it’s why neither of you run when you say it.
“Same goes for you, sweetheart.” He takes off his coat and wraps it around your shoulders. You note the silky texture of the inside of the jacket. It pushes you further.
“Why do we insist on playing this game? Why do we watch each other go after people who we don’t want when all we want is each other?”
He takes a moment to answer. Because in truth, he’s sure he could tell you why, he could discuss all of the horrible things that have happened to him, and you could share the same sort of stories about your own life. You could sit there and dissect past traumas for hours.
But that’s not really what you’re asking.
“I don’t know...” He says softly. His hands find themselves on your hips, and he rubs small circles into the fabric. “Satin?” You hum, melting at his touch. “Words, pretty girl. You know I like hearing your voice.”
“Satin.” You confirm, your breath catching.
“There she is...” He hums, and leans in. You feel his breath against your lip, and you take it upon yourself to close the gap between the two of you.
It’s soft, full of this hesitation because despite all the flirting, you’re still unsure of yourself. He quickly eases these fears as his hands move and you find his arms wrapped around your torso. He deepens the kiss, and you both lean into it. It becomes more desperate after that.
Your hands find their way to his hair, and you fiddle with the ends, unwilling to break the kiss, even if it means air. He breaks the kiss for a second, only to come back to your lips with more passion, biting your bottom lip, before slipping his tongue into your mouth, taking the more aggressive approach.
And you can’t take it anymore. You need him. You pull away from him, pant softly before kissing his jaw gently.
“Take me to your room.” You request. He obliges.
You find yourself taking off your heels as soon as you get in, your feet aching as you walk further into the room. The context is much different than it was this afternoon—And it makes you nervous.
Matt comes up from behind you and places his hands on your arms, rubbing them gently, before kissing your shoulder.
“You don’t have to be nervous. I’ll be gentle with you...” He says softly. You hum before he continues, “Or do you... want me to be rough with you?” he asks teasingly, landing a quick bite onto your shoulder. You make a noise of surprise and turn to him.
“You’re a tease, has anyone ever told you that?”
“Once or twice.” He begins to loosen his tie, eventually forcing it off and then starting to unbutton his shirt. You begin to help him with this task, eventually getting it all the way unbuttoned. Then you gently push him back against the bed and he laughs, falling onto it.
He thinks it’s cute. Until you sit above him, your dress hiking a bit. You lean down to kiss him as his hands find their way to the back of your thighs, and begin to move up and down, just being the tease, he is.
You whine into the kiss, and it just makes him chuckle further, before flipping the pair of you over, then planting a kiss on your neck.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Needy from just a few kisses?” He slips off his shirt as he continues to kiss you. One hand remains on your thigh, travelling up your thigh, eventually finding your panties.
“Mhm...” You hum, your hands wrapping around his neck again to play with his hair.
“Talk to me, sweet girl...” he says softly before he continues his assault on your neck.
“Matt…” You hum. “You know, I only—” Then his fingers find your clit and begin rubbing gentle circles, just teasing you with his fingers. It turns him from tease to cruel. You let out a moan, and he only tuts in disappointment.
“Keep talking or you won’t get anything from me.” He tells you, before continuing to tease you. His fingers begin to work on your folds. You try your best to focus. He takes off your panties and throws them on the ground somewhere.
“Only bought this dress for you... Thought you might like it...” You gasp again as he slips a finger into you, “Fuck—Thought it would make you do something about it.” In fairness, it got the reaction you had only hoped for in your wildest dreams. It makes him chuckle against your skin.
“Only got this pretty little dress for me to touch you like this?” He adds another finger and starts to move. When you don’t answer, too busy getting lost in his fingers, he bites your shoulder again. “Answer me, sweetheart.”
“Yes! God, yes…” You respond. He hums in approval, continuing to curl his fingers inside of you. It only takes a few minutes before you can feel yourself near the edge of an orgasm. “Matt… Baby, please...”
“C’mon, sweet girl... I’ve got you, let go...” And it’s enough to make you, cumming all over his fingers. He lets you ride out your high, out of breath. He kisses your neck again before bringing his fingers up to his lips, tasting your juices. “Sweet girl, still.” He smirks. Your heart skips a beat. He chuckles. Then he continues, “Did so good for me, sweetheart... Wanna keep going?” He asks.
“Yes, please... Wanna feel you inside me...” you confess.
“You want me to fill you up and stretch you out, pretty girl?” You should know better by now, but you just hum in response, gaining another bite to your shoulder. “Try again.”
“Yes... I want you so badly, Matt, please... I’ve been dreaming about it for months now,” You confess, “Need you...” He seems satisfied by this, and moves back, helping you sit up.
“Well then, we’ll need to get this pretty dress off you.” He says, his fingers working to take off his belt. Your fingers run over his chest. It’s all he can do not to rip the dress off, but he knows how much it means to you and how much it could’ve cost. So, instead, he slips the dress off you and feels you shiver against him. Still so nervous. He tosses the dress in the general direction of his suitcase, so it doesn’t sit on the floor. He leans in and starts pressing kisses to your chest, his hands reaching up to your bra and unclasping it. He throws it with much less care than the dress.
He keeps kissing down your torso as he lays you back on the bed, your hands going again to his hair.
“How come it’s fair that I’m fully naked, and you still have pants on?” You ask. It makes him laugh, and he stands straight again.
“Fair enough,” he says, taking them off. And then goes his boxers. Before you can stare at him, he’s on top of you again, kissing you deeply. You can feel his cock resting against your fold and it makes you moan into the kiss. He pulls away for just a second before asking, “Is this, okay? You’ll stop me if it’s too much?”
“Yeah, I’ll tell you.” You respond. He smiles at your words.
“Perfect. Perfect, pretty girl...” He hums as he begins to kiss your shoulders and the top of your chest, before slipping inside of you. You let out a moan, and he groans as well, taking a few minutes to take all of you in. It feels amazing. He begins to move inside of you as he brings you in for another kiss. When he pulls away, he’s talking, “Been thinking about this for... Fuck, so long...” He groans. “Been dreaming of this perfect pussy and how good it would feel around me…” He says, and it elicits a shaky moan from you.
“Faster, please...” You request, and he obliges, picking up the pace. You’ve been thinking about this for a long time too. You never imagined he’d be so controlling about the whole thing. It works you up almost as much as how vocal he is.
He leaves bites and marks down your chest as he pulls you closer to him, knowing he won’t last much longer. He feels you tighten around him and makes another demand, “Tell me how badly you want to cum, and I’ll let you.” He says this before planting a rather contrasting soft kiss to your ear.
“Please... Please, Matt, Fuck... I need to cum all over your cock... Wanna feel so good, baby...” You moan, your fingers pulling on his hair. It excites you when he moans. “And I want you to cum inside me... Fill me up, Baby, please...” You beg. He’s happy with it for now, but he knows he’ll want to hear more another time.
“C’mon, sweet girl. Cum for me…” He pants, and it’s all you need before you let yourself come undone around his cock. He continues thrusting for a few minutes, letting you ride out your high, before cumming himself, and you moan at the feeling. He lays against you for a few minutes, trying to recover, and it’s then that you notice he’s shaking.
“Are you okay?” You ask softly, brushing his hair out of his face. He looks at you with those gorgeous brown eyes. He laughs at your question.
“I’m great... You’re just... amazing...” he says honestly, kissing your shoulder one more time. “Perfect, pretty girl...” He praises. “My perfect girl...” It makes you shudder. He stays like this for a moment more before kissing you softly. Then, he sits up and goes to get a towel to clean the both of you up. And then, he’s back in bed with you. He pulls you close as you both recover from what just happened.
“I wasn’t lying,” You start, “I’ve been thinking about you for months. You’re all I’ve wanted for so long...” You confess. He kisses your head and pulls you closer.
“Me too... I was too much of an idiot to tell you though. Almost let you get away.”
“You got me.” You affirm. He hums and begins to rub all too familiar circles into your hips with his thumbs.
“And now I just want you more.”
The feeling is mutual.
#matt murdock x you#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x y/n#matt murdock smut#matt murdock being hot#matthew murdock#daredevil fanfiction#daredevil#daredevil fic#first smut#yearning#matt murdock x fem!reader#matt murdock fanfic
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— micaela's february recs
ty to all these amazing writers who have left me with butterflies in my stomach and/or tears rolling down my face, much appreciated <3
GRISHAVERSE
— nikolai lantsov.
young royals by @clairecrive
currents by @lantsovsupremacist
↳ you are in love
the art of pretension by @fleurspun
↳ sick and stubborn
↳ healer's duties
love language by @fishley
speak up by @prince-septimus
sugar cube by @magpiencrow
a dare for a truth by @sumsebien
— kaz brekker.
when am i gonna lose you? by @crowsmybeloveds
confrontations in a lonely club by @curseofaphrodite
what do you want from me? by @romeomontaague
silent birthdays by @amourology
↳ schat
you are done for by @sumsebien
this is what happens by @fishley
MARVEL
— peter parker.
you more than anything by @nghtwngs
↳ you love me, i love you
on that rooftop by @nezuscribe
skateboards, the force, and a lack of pants by @damnedparker
secrets and skateparks by @earthgirl616
aurora by @mgparker
scenes from a modern romance by @dameronology
— marc spector.
just let me dream a little more by @the-archxr
— matt murdock.
green is the color by @courtforshort15
the defence rests by @dameronology
OUTER BANKS
— jj maybank.
hot for a pogue by @butgilinsky
meet me at our spot by @amourology
— rafe cameron.
midsummers by @butgilinsky
so gorgeous it actually hurts by @folkloreslovechild
HARRY POTTER
— fred weasley.
after all this time by @httpbakugou
MARAUDERS
— james potter.
five times james wanted to kiss you and the one time he did by @moonlitmeeks
— sirius black.
all your fault by @heloisedaphnebrightmore
↳ absurd ideas
'cause i don't want you like a best friend by @evermoreal
grand scheme by @fishley
— remus lupin.
it's time to go by @godlessandwrecked
BRIDGERTON
— benedict bridgerton.
en garde by @delphispoeticals
show me love by @romeomontaague
— anthony bridgerton.
should've never let go by @writeroutoftime
illicit affairs by @marwritesgood
— colin bridgerton.
alone together by @romeomontaague
TOP GUN
— bradley bradshaw.
delirium by @kyber-crystal
↳ head in the clouds
ENOLA HOLMES
— sherlock holmes.
invisible string by @marwritesgood
AVATAR
— lo'ak.
in full bloom by @loaksky
— neteyam.
warm hands by @loaksky
HOUSE OF THE DRAGON
— aemond targaryen.
corridor kisses by @flowerpotmage
#micaela's monthly recs#fic recs#nikolai lantsov x reader#kaz brekker x reader#peter parker x reader#marc spector x reader#matt murdock x reader#jj maybank x reader#rafe cameron x reader#james potter x reader#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#benedict bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x reader#colin bridgerton x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#sherlock holmes x reader
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hi um so this is like my first time making a request, like ever. I’m not even sure if this is where I’m supposed to put a request. So I’m really nervous but this idea has been in my head for weeks and I need it to be brought to life? Idk but can I request Matt Murdock with a sort of shy reader? Where he tells her about his abilities and daredevil and everything (established relationship) and she doesn’t really care as long as he’s safe but she has something in her mind and he notices and keeps asking and basically she has a question about his senses, specifically his taste and idk if you know but Matt can canonically know ALL of the ingredients of anything just from a taste and she basically wants to make him taste a bunch of stuff and tell her the ingredients of it so she can make them? I know this is probably WAY too specific so feel free to completely ignore this, I just wanted to get it out.
hi my darling!
so I actually read this request right before going to the grocery store, and while I was looking through produce, it made me think about how matt would absolutely know which produce was the freshest and which ones to avoid. I kinda mixed that in with your idea about being able to tell exactly what ingredients were in something, and I hope this is close to what you were looking for! <3
warnings: tooth rotting fluff and matt being a lil shit
word count: 1.3k
lemons.
“Not that one.”
You hand instantly stilled over a lemon that your fingertips had already grazed over. Glancing at Matt over your shoulder, a crease formed between your brows while you looked back down at it.
“What do you mean? This one is perfect-”
“It’s not ripe enough.”
“But…it’s so yellow, like sunshine yellow.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Matt’s lips when he felt the way your own pursed into a bit of a confused pout. It was something you always did when you were intensely focused on something, and he found it endearing. Reaching his hand out, he used the pad of his thumb to smooth away the furrow that had creased in the middle of your forehead, and his soft smile curled up into a light smirk catching the flush of heat that immediately coursed through the tops of your cheeks.
“Well, I’m sure it’s a very pretty lemon, but it doesn’t taste ripe.”
Ever since Matt had told you the truth about his vigilante identity and his abilities, you’d had countless questions. You wouldn’t voice them at first, almost as if you were afraid to cross some invisible boundary that Matt might have, but he knew you, and he knew how to dismantle that shy exterior of yours. From the moment the two of you first met, you had been overly polite and accommodating about his disability, but not in a way that made him uncomfortable. You didn’t walk on eggshells around him or call any extra attention to his blindness. In fact, the way you interacted with him was so seamless, it was almost like it came second nature.
If you guys were grabbing coffee with Karen and Foggy, you would automatically place the raw sugar packets within his reach because you knew he preferred it to the artificial sweeteners. If the four of you went to check out a new lunch spot, you always called ahead to check if they had a menu in braille and made sure Matt was given one. There were so many little things you did to make him feel included and normal. It was part of why he fell so hard for you.
You never asked about the origin of his blindness, and even after he opened up and told you about his accident, you were reserved with your questions. He could tell you were curious, and he wanted you to ask. He wanted you to know things about him. You were a bit of a wallflower, and Matt could always feel you silently observing him, but he wanted you to understand him. He quickly realized he would have to flat out grant you permission to be nosey, and so he did.
Out of everyone he had revealed his Daredevil secret to, you had taken it the best. He didn’t know if he would ever get over the surprise of just how well you handled it. You didn’t get angry or yell at him. You didn’t call him a liar or a traitor, or ask him if he was faking his blindness; all reactions he expected. You just sat there in pure confusion, and you were silent for so long, Matt was panicked that he’d sent you into a state of shock. When it finally settled in that it wasn’t a joke, your brows knit together, and Matt could feel the way your face contorted into an expression of irritation when you flat out asked him if he was crazy. The memory of that night never failed to make him smile.
“Um…well, I mean…not in the traditional sense-”
“Matthew, what the hell are you thinking running around on rooftops, going after guys with guns and knives with…sticks? How do you even do that?”
“They’re batons, actually. Look it’s hard to explain, but I have heightened senses that help me-”
“Are those super senses going to keep you out of prison? Because that’s where you’re going if you get caught. What was the point of going hundreds of thousands of dollars into debt for law school if you were just going to wind up a prison cell for doing backflips off buildings in your underwear?”
“Heightened senses. And it’s not underwear. Underwear is comfortable.”
There hadn’t been a hint of anger in your voice. Annoyance, sure, but mainly concern. All you wanted was for Matt to be safe, and he did his best to assure you that he would be. Matt went into as much detail as he could to help you understand his abilities, and the more comfortable you got with asking him things, the more you learned.
Like how he could tell exactly what ingredients were in the lemon bread at the cafe down the street from your apartment that you loved so much, which was currently the reason behind your little trip to the store at the moment. All it took was one bite of the bread, and he knew exactly how to replicate it.
Apparently he could also tell when lemons were at their peak.
Reaching into the pile of lemons, Matt grasped the one that was in perfect condition to him and held it out towards you. Taking the lemon in your hand, you gave it a light squeeze, noticing that it was firm to the touch but easily gave into the gentle force of your fingers testing its density.
“Feel the rind.”
Following Matt’s instructions, you brushed your thumb along the bright yellow rind. It was smooth to the touch, and somewhat glossy as it nearly reflected the brightness of the overhead lighting in the grocery store.
“It’s shiny.”
Matt chuckled at your response and lightly nodded his chin in your direction.
“What else?”
“It’s smooth.”
“It’s perfectly ripe. The zest on this one is the freshest. It has the most flavor, and the right amount of juice.”
Arching one of your brows, you stared up at Matt curiously while still faintly squeezing the lemon in your hand.
“You can tell how much juice is in this just by touching it?”
A grin stretched across Matt’s lips, showcasing his dazzling teeth and causing indents to appear in his cheeks. His thick brows rose slightly above the rim of his crimson glasses.
“Are you doubting me, sweetheart?”
“No I’m just…still trying to figure out how you do…what you do.”
A bashful twinge of heat coated your cheeks once again, and Matt thought it was adorable that you diverted your attention back to the lemon shyly to avoid his gaze even though he couldn’t see your reaction. He reached out to tenderly brush his knuckles along the warmth in your cheeks while he smiled in your direction.
“I’ll try to do better at explaining. Now c’mon, we have more ingredients to get. You know, I think this bread is gonna turn out so well, the one at the cafe might not meet your standards anymore.”
The confidence in Matt’s voice caught your attention, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips. Sometimes you forgot that your boyfriend was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen that everyone was so afraid of. If only they knew that he spent his Saturdays sniffing out ingredients at the grocery store like a bloodhound to help his girlfriend recreate the recipe for her favorite lemon bread.
“You know, if you didn’t love law so much, you could’ve made out like a bandit in a baking competition.”
“Oh I would’ve won with my sob story of being a blind little Catholic orphan alone.”
“Matthew!”
Matt snickered at the disbelief in your tone, but he could also detect the way the edges of your lips twitched, like you weren’t sure if you should laugh at that or not. Snaking his arm around your waist, he pressed a light kiss to your forehead and gently nudged you in the direction towards the spice aisle.
“Come on, we need flour.”
tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @avengerstower-houseplant @mars-rants-a-lot @topperthornton @hailey-murdock @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts
#matt murdock#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x female reader#matt murdock x fem!reader#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock fic#matt murdock request#daredevil#daredevil fic#daredevil request
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just working | matt murdock x f!reader
summary: you’re trying to focus on work, but matt murdock has something else in mind.
tags: softdom!matt, office sex, oral (f!receiving), piv, established relationship, (not-so) secret relationship, idiots in love.
word count: 1.9k
a/n: i wasn’t expecting to share a fic so soon after putting out the poll, but someone replied something lovely on one of my fics, and it really made my day and motivated me to put to paper a little fantasy i’ve had for a while. 😭
“matt, we really shouldn’t be doing this here,” you whisper, giggling as you hide your face in his chest. you can feel his heart pounding as fast as yours, the thrill of the secret adding to the excitement.
“you started it,” he teases, his voice low and warm, the vibrations tickling your ear. you’re in his office, papers and files strewn across his desk with a half-spilled coffee on the floor, a testament to the workday that’s supposed to be happening. but right now, all that fades away. it’s just you and matt, alone in a bubble of your own making.
you look up at him. there’s a glimmer of mischief on his face, a challenge. “did not,” you retort playfully, trying to stifle another round of laughter. matt’s hand rests on your back, his touch light but firm, anchoring you to the moment.
“anyway,” you say, still fanning the half-dry coffee stain on your skirt. “seriously, matt, we need to focus.”
"i am focused,” he insists, the corner of his lip upturned in mischief. “focused on you.” he reaches out, pretending to adjust a nonexistent wrinkle on your shirt. the light touch sends a shiver through you, and you swat his hand away playfully.
"stop it,” you whisper, but with no real severity in your tone. matt just grins, undeterred.
"you know, you’re adorable when you’re trying to be serious,” he teases, leaning back in his chair and with an air of nonchalance.
"i’m always serious,” you retort.
he reaches for and grabs your arm, pulling you into his lap. he noses at your neck, the stubble of his chin teasing over your pulse point. his mouth opens to respond, but the sound of footsteps in the hallway jolts you both into stillness. matt’s head beams up, listening, and in a second his quick reflexes have you both stepping apart, looking every bit the consummate professionals as the door opens.
“got some fresh leads on the dawson case…” foggy announces, stepping in. “ahem, am i interrupting something?” he asks, his gaze flickering between the two of you.
"no,” you and matt both reply, a little too quickly. foggy raises an eyebrow.
“right,” he says, drawing out the words with a hint of skepticism. “well, i just came to drop off these files.” he places a stack of papers on matt’s desk, his eyes lingering on the two of you a moment longer before coming to rest on the coffee cup on the ground.
"thanks, fog,” matt says, his tone casual, but you can sense a slight tension in his posture.
foggy sighs, shaking his head slightly. “you two are about as subtle as a brick through a window, you know that?” he says.
matt turns away to hide a smile, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“foggy, we’re just working,” you reply, trying to sound convincing.
"sure, sure,” foggy says. “just remember, we’ve got a lot riding on this case. so don’t, uh—work—too much,” he says, with that, he turns and leaves, closing the door behind him.
as soon as the door clicks shut, you look at matt incredulously. “matt!” before you can chide him, he gets a goofy look on his face.
“so, i uh, might have finished prepping this case last night.”
"you... wait, what?” you exclaim. the thought of him letting you ramble on while knowing the work was already done makes you shake your head. “and you let me go on about it all day?”
“guilty,” he admits. he stands up, reaching out his hand to you. “but i thought it might be nice to have an excuse to spend the day with you.” there’s something so pure and honest about his tone that it makes your heart flutter.
you shake your head but are unable to hide your smile. he holds a hand outstretched, nodding toward the exit.
you take matt’s hand, but right before you reach the door, he veers off course, pulling you into a small, rarely-used bathroom. he locks the door with a soft click, and his lips are on yours in an instant.
he picks you up with a soft grunt, sitting you on the bathroom island, hiking your skirt up until it bunches at your waist. he drops to face-level with your cunt and pulls your waist to the edge, nosing hungrily at your underwear.
“matt, are you su—” you begin, but then you stop. the small space amplifies your sound, each tiny breath and touch echoing off the walls. you instinctively cover your mouth.
as if a switch suddenly flipped in him, a low chuckle comes from between your legs, and it's him doing the chiding this time. “that’s right. wouldn’t want to get caught again, would we?”
a rough finger pulls your underwear to the side and he playfully nips at your unsuspecting folds, then molds his lips around your clit and sucks. you whine into your own palm, your legs closing on instinct, but he holds them open, impossibly strong.
“mmphf— just a quick one before we get home,” he groans, arms snaking under your open legs to wrap around them like a vice. “c’mon, sweetheart, give me more,” he grunts against you, tapping your thigh twice with his hand. you’re not sure what he’s asking at first, but then he pinches your thigh, and you yelp. you grind into his face and he groans. you catch on, working up an erratic rhythm against his stubbled chin. it doesn’t take much for you to cum like this, his tongue suctioning torturously around your sensitive clit and darting into curl against your walls, eager for a taste.
it’s unrelenting. just like the rest of him.
after you come down from your climax, he helps you stand, holding out an arm for balance as you shakily step to your feet and let your underwear and skirt drop to the floor. he then drops his hand to his own aching erection, unbuckling his belt and stepping out of his slacks and boxers. you undo his dress shirt and pull it over his shoulder and down his arm, where they catch on the muscle of his biceps.
cock freed, he shucks off his shirt, and helps you pull yours over your head, bra in tow. he pulls you near enough so that, for a moment, you’re chest-to-chest and you feel his cock pulses against your lower stomach. you’re about to lower yourself down, take him into your mouth, when he puts a hand on your waist, stilling you.
“spit on it,” he murmurs, voice impossibly low. his whole demeanor seems to have shifted in just moments, confined in a space that’s so filled with your intoxicating scent.
you comply, and watch your own spit dribble down onto his erect cock. he holds a hand under it, catching any spare saliva so he can work it over his cock.
“jesus,” he curses softly, and his other hand comes up cup your chin and thumb at your lips. for a moment, he just takes his cock and runs it across the supple skin of your stomach, the curves of your waist, then against the fat of your thighs, slapping it a few times, spreading the slick around. “you have no idea, do you? the things you do to me.”
you whine softly against the thumb at your lip. “matt, please.” you’re not sure what you’re begging for, but, as always, he knows exactly what you want.
“turn around,” he orders, and you waste no time. he nestles between your parted legs, spreading them further with his own and bending you over the counter, the head of his cock already pushing past your entrance. you gasp, pushing back but meeting resistance with his size.
“‘s alright. ha—’ he breathes. “we’re going to take care of you, kay,” he murmurs, hand guiding himself in slowly, the low timber of his voice sending shivers down your spine. he works an arm under you, and slowly bottoms out into you.
you hiss at the stretch, but before long, you’re bouncing in his lap, the sound of skin slapping on skin filling the space. he’s bigger than you, and every thrust punches another guttural sound out of you. you gasp and writhe, trying to catch your breath and adjust to the stretch and pace. you grab the counter, the sink, the mirror.
he murmurs something, but you don’t quite hear it at first.
“—push back,” he repeats, a little louder. you do, but the next thrust fills you so deep, you almost yelp out loud.
“quit running from it,” he chuckles, but his size and pace are so overpowering, your arm instinctually moves back to slow his thrusts. he grabs it instantly and folds it back over your chest.
“push—back—” he grits, pulling your hips into his thrusts. when he’s satisfied, he groans into your ear, barely muffling the sound in your hair. and then rough fingers are rubbing over your clit, circling them.
“i know, baby, i know.” he croons softly against your ear as you bite down on your forearm to keep from moaning. “you—fuck—be brave for me.”
“that’s right. you’re gonna get it nice and creamy for me.” he keeps an unrelenting pace.
“or else—“ he chuckles, patting your cunt a few times.
“i’m gonna slap this pussy raw.”
you barely mask the sob into your arm. “matt— please.”
“you can do it, you can do it,” he breathes, voice breaking and growing equally as desperate. “‘m gonna follow you, sweetie.”
you push back into him, holding your temple flush against his.
“love you so m—,” you croak. “—much.”
“oh, i love you so much too— you’re mine, you know?” he breathes, and then he says your name, the final trigger.
you grab the counter in front of you, seizing up and crying his name inaudibly as you come harder than you’ve ever come. his arms hold you, your steady anchor at sea as you forget all your surroundings.
it’s just the feeling of him coursing, thunderous and electric, through your veins.
he joins you moments after, groaning into the meat of your shoulder.
you don’t know if seconds or minutes pass. in this moment, it’s just the two of you.
~
you both step out of the bathroom, adjusting your attire. the office around you is silent, the usual hustle of the day having ebbed away with the setting sun. matt pauses, his heightened senses scanning the environment.
“coast is clear. foggy and karen must’ve left,” he notes. "office is empty.”
"your heightened senses come in handy," you giggle.
matt’s hand reaches for yours, fingers entwining. "they have their perks," he admits.
matt pulls you close for a moment, kissing your forehead. surveying the aftermath of your impromptu interlude—the spilled coffee, the disheveled papers—he comments, “we made quite the scene here."
you glance at the mess, a playful glint in your eye. “just working, though,” you say.
“right, ‘just working’,” he repeats with a smirk.
hand in hand, you leave the office, stepping into the cool night. the city around you is alive with lights, but in this moment, they seem to pale in comparison to the excitement still buzzing through you.
#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock smut#matt murdock fic#matt murdock fanfic#matt murdock x you#x reader#matt murdock#matt murdock x fem!reader#matt murdock imagine#matt murdock fanfiction#marvel#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#matt murdock fluff#bun’s#bunny brain
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DONT BE A FOOL - MATT MURDOCK
Pairing: matt x wife!reader
Word Count: 2, 156
Summary: After a very tense argument about a misused name, your apologetic husband ends up getting looped in by your students.
//follow-up to three empty words but can probably be read on its own//
The next morning, you refused to dilly dally your morning routine. Your shower was quick, your hair and makeup remained simple. Even your outfit was more or less the first thing you grabbed from your closet. You gathered all of your papers - which you hadn’t gotten around to grading the night before - and your laptop before Matt’s alarm had even gone off.
You skipped making breakfast, deciding to stop at a coffee shop on the way to work instead, and hustled out the door. You ignored the still sleeping figure of Elektra on your couch even though your brain wanted to soak her with cold water and kick her out. You did slam the door on your way out but that was just to satisfy your own anger.
You walked into your classroom and let out a loud sigh as you dropped into your deskchair. You were thankful to be out of the house, in your own space for the time being. As you began grading the papers and piling them according to the hours, your mind wandered back to the night before. You wondered if Elektra would be out of your apartment when you got back. You wondered if Matt would tell Foggy and Karen that you two got into a fight last night. You then found yourself wondering if Matt was actually going to go to work that morning.
You realized you were staring blankly at the student’s worksheet in front of you so you shook the thoughts and focused on the daunting stacks before you.
Most of the hours were business as usual. Your normal rowdy students were a bit extra, but that might’ve been due to your already grated nerves more than their own behaviors. It wasn’t until the hour before lunch that you found some of your students more huddled and secretive than usual.
“What are you doing in the corner?” You called, peaking over your computer at the small group. “There’s, what, five minutes till the bell?”
“Mrs. Murdock, what’s your husband’s name?” One of the girls, Liv, asked with an innocent expression. The same one she gave you when she explained her lacking assignments.
“Matthew.” You titled down your screen to see them better. “Why?”
“What does he do again?”
“Lawyer. Why?”
“Is he handsome?” Another girl, Nicole, asked with wiggling eyebrows.
You had to refrain from rolling your eyes at your middle schoolers.
“Yes, very.” You smiled slightly. “I wouldn’t have married him if he wasn’t.”
“And if he’s a lawyer, he’s gotta be smart, right?”
“Again, very. He went to Columbia.”
“So like… Is he why you’re so sad today?” Blake, the only boy in the group, chimed in with a nonchalant shrug.
“Guys.” You frowned slightly. “I’m not sure what you’re doing, but I’m not sad. Me and Mr. Murdock are fine. We’re happily married. And you should be worried about your own relationship drama, not mine.”
“So you admit there’s drama?” Nicole countered quickly.
“Between Blake and Emmy? Yes.” You nodded and Emmy’s jaw dropped while her friends poked her teasingly. “Between me and Mr. Murdock, no.”
“Mhmm.. So why is the photo face down?”
“What?”
“The photo by your computer.” She came across the room and lifted the frame near your laptop that was in fact, face down. “You told us on the first day that this was one your favorite photos and you have it on it’s face… There’s drama, Mrs. Murdock.”
“You’re very observant, Nicole. Thank you.” You said flatly as you took the frame from her hands and set it in it’s rightful position. “I must’ve knocked it over when I was trying to find you and Liv’s missing portfolio project.”
“You can’t deflect, Mrs. M.” Liv added from across the room. “It’s all over your face.”
“Y’know what.” You announced, standing from your desk. “The bell rings in less than two minutes. You guys can all go to lunch early.”
A chorus of questions arose while you heard the door being pushed open.
“They can’t write you all up.” You shrugged and dropped back in your chair while the meddling group made their way into the hall.
The girls continued to whisper to themselves and glanced back at you, to which you shooed them away. When you were finally alone in your classroom, you let out a heavy sigh and rubbed a hand over your eyes.
Usually, you adored having open communication with your students because that meant they trusted you. But at the same time, that meant they felt entitled to know your life story whether you like it or not. The bell echoed in your ears so you spun your chair to the small fridge under your desk that held your lunch.
You clicked play on a playlist from your laptop and began eating your lunch, typing away to enter in grades. You knew you should just do nothing, scroll mindlessly on your social medias instead or maybe even call Foggy to ensure Matt made it to work, but the busy work for your eyes, head, and hands felt better. Plus, you weren’t exactly sure what you would’ve said that could’ve gotten your question answered without being a dead giveaway. So you kept working instead.
“MRS. MURDOCK!” Liv nearly yelled as she burst through your door, maybe halfway through the lunch hour. “OHMYGODYOULLNEVERBELIEVE-”
“Liv!” You said in shock, nearly dropping your water bottle. “What is going on? Is everything okay?”
“Look at this!” She hurried across and showed you her phone screen. Oddly enough, it was a photo of the back of a man exiting a taxi. What stood out to you was the white cane in his hand.
“It’s a guy getting out a cab.” You tried to reason, gently pushing her phone away. “That’s what you ran in here to tell me?”
“But he’s blind!”
“So it seems.”
“Don’t you know what this means?” She insisted with a small stomp.
You simply shrugged and raised your brows.
“It’s Mr. Murdock! He came to apologize!”
“Liv, I appreciate your concern for my marriage but we’re fine, okay? It’s not like he and I are heading towards a divorce. We’re just in a bit of an argument. It’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure? Because I’ve never seen you so…” She gestured vaguely to you.
“Yes, I’m sure. Now go back to your lunch, please. I have to finish these.”
“But-”
“No.”
“Mrs. M, just-”
“Liv, boundaries, please.”
“Just listen!”
“No.” You said firmly. “Go back to your lunch.”
She huffed slightly but retreated to the door. As she was heading out, she nearly ran into one of the monitors.
“Sorry to intrude, Y/N.” The monitor said as she popped her head in. “I have a visitor for you.”
“Another one of my kids being a problem?” You sighed and wheeled yourself a bit further from your desk. “Send ‘em in. They can sit in the corner till next class.”
“Actually, I think you’ll be glad to see this one.” She smiled knowingly and reached for something outside the doorframe.
Before you could voice another question, she ushered Matt through the door. He said his usual thanks for being guided and the monitor gave you an approving nod and thumbs up. She mouthed a very not subtle ‘He’s very handsome’. You smiled awkwardly in agreement but once the door closed, you rolled your eyes and went back to your gradebook.
“Could’ve called.” You said simply.
“I didn’t think you would answer.” Matt replied honestly.
“Probably wouldn’t have… Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“I couldn’t focus.”
You heard the clicks of him folding his cane as he wandered around your classroom. You peaked up to watch him manueaver the desks with such ease that for a split second, you forgot he was blind. You watched him run his fingers along the bulletin board you had on one wall, leading into the standards and other required signage you had up.
“Did she leave?” You asked and returned to your prior task. You knew if you watched him for too long, he’d know and he’d show you that stupid lopsided smirk that he did.
“She was still pretty weak when I left.” He said and there was a slight sadness in his voice. Though if someone asked if it was for Elektra or your argument, you wouldn’t have been able to say. “But I did ask Stick to find somewhere else to take her to recover if she can’t leave on her own by the time someone gets home.”
“Chivalrous.” You made a face behind your computer screen. “You didn’t have to come all the way here to tell me that.”
He sighed slightly and you mumbled a short complaint to yourself before scooting away from your desk and spinning in your chair to face him, just as he appeared at your side. You folded your hands over your stomach and leaned back in your chair, giving an exaggerated sigh and nod for him to talk.
“Y/N, last night, I said something I shouldn’t have.” He began carefully, as if he was following a carefully rehearsed speech. For all you knew, he had rehearsed it with Foggy that morning before he showed up. “I let Stick push me and I just said the first thing that came to mind.”
“But she shouldn’t be the first thing, right?” You said softly with a small shrug. “Stick shouldn’t be able to push you into saying that, whether you meant it or not.”
“You’re right.” He admitted and your brows went up slightly. “I shouldn’t have said that. You are the only woman that I want to be with. I married you, without any hesitation. I never had second thoughts or second thoughts or anything. You, Y/N Murdock, have my heart.”
You nodded slowly but said nothing as you stood. You crossed your arms and looked up at him, him offering a hopeful expression in return. You broke into a small smile and nudged him with your shoulder before moving past him. He followed you almost instantly and you took him to the wall on the other side of your desk near the window.
“The kids started calling this the Sweetheart’s Spotlight.” You said quietly with a small smile. “They keep a polaroid camera in one of the cubbies and every Friday, they rearrange the couples in order of their favorites… They made me put a photo of us on here, too.”
“Where do we rank?” He smiled slightly.
“We’ve been number one since it started.” You laughed. “They tell me that you’re the best by default since I’m their favorite teacher.”
“Lucky me.”
“You know I’m still upset, right?” You said carefully when the air was too light between you two.
“I know.” He nodded. “I can hear it in your voice.”
“But I also don’t want to hold onto this fight. So here’s an idea. Elektra’s out of the apartment today. You two finish whatever crusade you’re on. You make sure you don’t get yourself killed. She leaves New York and it’s all put to bed.”
“Consider it done.” He nodded. “And I know better than to get myself killed. I’ve got it too good to die.”
“Yeah because then I’m a widow and there’s not much life insurance to cash in on.” You joked as the lunch bell rang.
“I should get going.” He nodded before gently taking your hand. “I love you. So much.”
“I love you too.” You said softly as your students started filing in.
“OHMYGOD.” One of your students yelled and you closed your eyes tightly, quietly groaning in embarrassment. “IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS?”
“Yes, Luna.” You said, feeling the blush across your cheeks. “This is Mr. Murdock and he’s leaving.”
You pulled Matt towards the door as he laughed. Your kids yelled questions that you tried to ignore until Matt stopped, pulling you to stop with him.
“It’s career week!” One of the boys yelled. More so a demand.
“I’m aware, Jack.” You nodded. “What does that have to do with this?”
“He’s not here to talk to us about lawyers?” The boy’s head cocked as he asked his question.
“That’s exactly why I’m here.” Matt grinned and you groaned again. “Let’s give Mrs. Murdock a break, right?”
“You’re so dead.” You threatened quietly with a laugh before heading back to your chair.
“Okay, kids.” You announced. “He’s blind and can’t write. I’m not getting up. Take your own notes and keep your questions relevant to his career, okay?”
“Yes, Mrs. Murdock.” They all answered.
“All yours, Mr. Murdock.” You gestured before returning to grading and the personal questions started flying.
“How did you guys meet?!”
“What’s her favorite color?!”
“Did you see the wall?!” “He can’t see!”
“Are they always this rowdy?” He asked you with a slight laugh.
“You’re new and exciting.” You shrugged. “Take it as a compliment.”
#matt fluff#matt murdock fanfic#matt murdock fic#marvel matt murdock#matt murdock mcu#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock angst#matt murdock imagine#matt murdock#matt murdock fluff#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x yn#matt murdock x wife#husband matt murdock#daredevil#daredevil x reader#daredevil angst#daredevil imagine#mcu daredevil#netflix daredevil#daredevil fic#daredevil fanfic#daredevil fluff#marvel daredevil
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beyond love
pairing: miguel o’hara x lawyer fem reader
contents: reader’s emotionally unavailable lol, matthew murdock’s a warning on his own too, implied cheating (not from reader and miguel), smut in future parts 🥸
synopsis: you’d moved to nueva york after finishing up with law school, getting a job at nelson and murdock. one day, one of alchemax’s employees comes in needing your legal expertise. tension arises with one of the witnesses.
author’s note: ended up changing the name bc i’m super indecisive but sorry this took me so long to get out 😓 i hope y’all enjoy though :) i did take some inspo from tasm for this one
word count: 6.8k
"You're hired."
That was certainly not what you were expecting to hear. You were barely getting out your resume from your briefcase, having gone over the list of internships you'd done throughout law school. you blinked quickly, almost as if you were trying to assure yourself it wasn't just a figment of your imagination.
"Thank you, I promise you won't be disappointed," you finally ended up mustering out upon regaining your composure. You stood up, shaking the man's hand. He'd introduced himself as 'Foggy' before leading you to your office space to get acquainted. "Feel free to do whatever you want to the space, just don't make any holes in the walls," he told you before leaving the space.
You'd spent all day going from firm to firm, going through your extensive list of internships during law school to end up getting rejected towards the end. You'd gotten used to the forced smile that one of the partners gave you, whispering a half-assed 'I'm sorry' or 'we'll call you soon' with a pat on the back. Not that you actually expected a call back by any means.
You'd missed the subway to go back home, your heels not doing you in any justice when it came to trying to catch it. And just as your luck would have it, the next one wouldn't be coming for another hour. You ended up walking down the streets dejectedly, your briefcase barely hovering above ground with every step that you took.
Stepping into Nelson and Murdock was a last resort, if anything, just another rejection you were expecting to get added to the list. t
The space didn't seem all that extravagant, but at least it had somewhat decent reviews when you searched it up. "Hi, welcome to Nelson and Murdock!" You were immediately greeted by the blonde receptionist at the front desk, the name tag in front of her reading 'Karen.'
You quickly learned why you got hired so easily. The firm was essentially running off good luck and pure positivity. The debt accumulated by the light bill, rent, and phone service surpassed that of what the four of you combined earned per month. The cases that you took outside of the one regarding Wilson Fisk and his subsidiaries were solely pro bono.
Though you supposed a decent plus from it was that you were never hungry. The collection of baked goods quickly grew in your apartment, each a little token of appreciation from your clients. Items from banana bread, muffins, and chocolate chips cookies had accumulated in your kitchen counter. Your clients' faces lit up at the prospect of a reduced sentence or winning their case, immediately showering you in thanks.
Maybe it wasn't so bad.
Another pro from the job was that you had somewhat of a social life now. You went from buying dinners for one to enjoy while watching Netflix on a Friday night to going out with your coworkers.
Your social life before stepping foot into Nelson and Murdock was practically nonexistent. The only reason you'd ever bothered to talk to anyone during law school was to have some form of a study group, purely for your own self interest. As much as any of the other students there. You hadn't bothered to keep in contact with any of the other alumni after graduation.
Josie’s had become your spot to get a drink with the trio after work, usually on Friday night to have time to recover from your hangovers. The stickiness of the floors and the overwhelmingly bad taste of the drinks was overridden by the company that you were with. Conversation with Foggy and Karen was easy enough to engage in, jokes flowing between you three throughout the night. Matt was more reserved than the two of them, though he indulged you in a game of pool sometimes.
"All I'm saying is that I would have less stress in my life if I would've become a butcher. Nothing to worry about except for selling sausages and meat," Foggy remarked after the four of you started to talk about the developments in the Fisk case. The man was much more methodical and complicated than you anticipated, one step ahead every single time.
"Every time you retell that story, my interest in it just gets peaked more and more," Matt muttered from the side, taking a sip from his drink.
"Really?"
"Absolutely not."
You took a sip from your own drink, watching the exchange between the two of them with an amused smile on your face. You hadn't even noticed that the conversation had shifted until you had two pairs of eyes facing in your direction. “Sorry, can you repeat that?"
"Did you ever think about becoming anything else other than a lawyer? Like I dunno, a butcher?"
You took a couple seconds to think about the question, setting your glass down on the table. You'd entertained the idea of dropping out during your time in law school, maybe pursing something along the lines of starting your own business. Though, it was nothing more than a fleeting thought. Nothing really excited you more than practicing law.
"I did think about it, but not to be a butcher. Something in business, maybe."
Foggy moved on to ask the question to Karen, even going as to question if she would consider a career as a butcher one day. She'd ended up saying yes, for the sake of indulging Foggy in a fantasy where stress wasn't a key part of everybody's life. While the two were talking, you couldn't but notice that Matt was staring into you, almost as if he could see you better than you ever could.
The end of the night approached you quicker than you'd expected, the once socially awkward woman now complaining that the night was ending so early. (it was 1 am) Matt stayed later than the two of them, the two of you sharing drinks and playing a couple rounds of pool before you eventually gave up. "Seriously, how are you so good at that?"
He'd managed to get most of the balls into the holes while the only one you'd managed to get in was due to his assistance. "Just listening to how the balls ricochet, I guess," he shrugged off the win like it was nothing, leaning against the table as he downed the rest of his drink down. The two of you leaned against the pool table in silence, finishing up the rest of your drinks before you headed out for the night.
"Can I walk you home?" You heard from behind you, Matt making his way out of the door. He tapped his cane against the floor, making his way over to you. You nodded, your eyes widening slightly upon realizing your mistake. Matt didn't seem too offended by it, letting out a small chuckle as he held onto your arm. "You just nodded, huh?" He ended up asking, the two of you walking down the street.
"Yeah, sorry about that," you responded, enjoying the silence of the night for once. The streets of Nueva York had seemed to calm down with the two vigilantes in the streets, Daredevil and Spider-Man. While their actions weren’t exactly legal, you'd heard of the police divulging details with one of the two to get help with an investigation. Overall, thefts and petty robberies had gone down dramatically.
You and Matt walked to your apartment in silence, though it wasn't uncomfortable by any means. You always found Matt to have somewhat of a relaxing presence, from the way that his words poured out like melting honey to the way he calmly carried himself around. You did notice however, that despite him grabbing onto your arm, it seemed like he was leading you more than you were guiding him.
"Thank you," you spoke up once the two of you approached your apartment, stepping away from Matt. You walked up the stairs, digging through your pockets to find your keys. It always did seem that the moments where you needed them the most, they seemed to just vanish. Eventually, you'd managed to dig them out after practically stripping your pockets from its belongings.
Before you had the chance to step inside, matt cleared his throat to capture your attention. "Would you like to go out with me? I know this great place," he asked, your movements on the door knob coming to a halt. You'd heard of how much Matt got around, from the trip he took to Los Angeles that ended him up with Jen Walters to the nurse that he ended up seducing. You didn't mean to overhear, it's just that the walls at the firm were relatively thin.
"I'm sorry, I just don't think I should in the position that we're in. With you being my boss and all," you responded after a couple seconds, listening to the faint sigh that Matt let out.
"If it makes for a convincing argument, I promise that I won't let our situation affect what we have going on at work. Those are two completely different things and I'm capable of treating them as such."
Well, yes, you knew that he was capable of hooking up with a co-worker and pretending like it never happened the next day.
But.. you weren't so sure about yourself.
"Just take a couple days to think about it and get back to me, okay?" He ended up speaking up after a couple seconds of your silence, departing your apartment.
Your thoughts kept going back to the offer every single time you had a spare second to yourself. And even with that, the answer wasn't making itself any clearer. You had a duty to yourself to make the best out of your law degree and you liked this job too much to give it up for a cheap thrill. But yet, you still couldn't help but wonder about what it would actually be like to go out with him.
After what seemed to be a week of deliberation, you agreed to go on a date with Matt. A test run, of sorts. Nothing that would end up horribly if it didn't work out well. And well, you had to admit that the place he picked out did have some pretty good food. Conversation with him was a bit awkward, given that the two of you hadn't had a reason to talk to each other outside of work but you found it somewhat fun getting to know him.
"Wait so you learned Spanish in college?" You followed up after he shared his experiences in Columbia, how the whole Murdock and Nelson firm came into fruition.
"I did, it wasn't that hard to learn. It serves me now since some of the people in the community speak mainly Spanish. Often overlooked in the legal system so I try to facilitate that."
"So, could you say something in Spanish now?"
"You know, I kinda tend to hate that question since all the Spanish vocabulary from my head just disappears. Give me a couple seconds to think about something."
You were about to tell Matt to forget it after he divulged into thought for a couple seconds, a bit guilty for putting him on the spot like that. Before you had the chance to speak, he broke the silence first.
"You have a face como un burro."
Your eyes widened slightly upon hearing his pronunciation, the accent coming out relatively well given the situation. He'd even managed to roll his r's when he spoke.
"Uh.. do you mind explaining what that last part means?"
"You have the face of an angel."
You knew that he couldn't see your face, but somehow that made the compliment all that much better. The fact that he thought you were pretty just by the way you acted and the way you talked was enough to get you flustered. Though, a small doubt planted inside your head that maybe it wasn't the true meaning of the phrase. You'd have to look it up at a later time if you remembered.
The date continued smoothly, and eventually, the one date turned into multiple dates. Well, whenever the two of you had the time. It was one of the easier parts of dating a fellow lawyer, that he understood the conflicting work schedules imposed upon you. And while conversations with him began to flow easier the more that you got to him and you grew to enjoy his company with each passing date, you still couldn't help but feel as if something was off.
Your relationship with Matt was.. complicated to say the least. The countless dates that he took you to didn't seem to matter when it came to commitment. He called you his girlfriend in private, whispering sweet nothings and calling you names such as 'darling' and 'love' yet the two of you didn't do much apart from eat together and have sex. He acted like a coworker in public, keeping you at an arm's distance. Never once acknowledging you as something other than your last name.
And yet, every time that you wanted to leave the situation you were in, he managed to pull you right back in his grasp with that stupid smile of his. Whispering empty promises as he slid inside you, promises that would long be forgotten by the time morning rolled around. Promises that kept you sticking around until you doubted him again, repeating the cycle once more.
"Hi," a timid voice from behind you broke you out of your thoughts, making you immediately turn around to face them. You'd gotten distracted thinking about your relationship status with Matt again. The thought of leaving started to implant itself in your head. He'd been making excuses for missing dates, leaving you to try to rationalize his absences. The first thing that you noticed about the man was that he was covered head to toe in bandages, obviously in your office for a personal injury case.
"Hi, sorry about that. Welcome to Nelson and Murdock, can I get you something to drink?" You snapped back into it, making a beeline for the coffee machine. "Just a glass of water, please," the man spoke up, his tone making it seem like it was an inconvenience.
You handed the cup of water over to him with a small smile, hoping to help him get more at ease with the situation. You beckoned him to sit down, taking your notepad out of your desk to begin writing down the details that he would share. The more that you listened to the man's story, Max, the more that your bewilderment grew. Electric eels? No wonder the man was covered up the way he was.
"So you fell into a tub of electric eels while you were working overtime?" You asked after he finished speaking, wanting to make sure you'd gotten the details right. You set down your pen, leaning a bit forward on the desk. "Yes, that's exactly what happened. I’m seeking out your services because I got fired right after the incident and I want to regain my position at the company."
Ah, they'd fired him to avoid a personal injury case. Which was exactly what you were going to convince Max to file.
"You know that you can get some type of compensation for what happened? Given that you got injured in a work space. I can help you get your job back but I believe that you're deserving of much more than that and I can be the one to help you throughout that path."
After a bit of convincing from your part, you'd managed to get Max to agree to the conditions that you were setting in place. You'd managed to get the paperwork rolling to get the lawsuit filed before he left, leaving you only to go to Alchemax and try to get some testimonies. You did a bit of research on the subject, distracting yourself from the thought that Matt hadn't bothered to step foot in his office all day. not even a call to let you know he hadn't died or something.
You weren't sure what you were expecting upon meeting the CEO of Alchemax, Miguel O'Hara. The photo that he had up on the website was a portrait of him with an unamused expression on his face, his brows furrowed as if he were willing for the camera to click faster. The very same expression that he was currently giving you right now. "Hi, I'm the attorney for Max's case. I was wondering if i could get your testimony."
The only sign of acknowledgment that you got from him was a grunt before he turned over to look at Max, his expression softening a bit. An expression that you would've missed had you not been conditioned to look out for every minor detail. "Can I talk to you really quick?" Miguel asked, unwilling to acknowledge that you were still in the room before he walked into a conference room behind him with Max.
You leaned your ear to the door, trying your best to listen in on the conversation. It had been a harder task than you'd expected, a couple employees shooting you dirty looks upon seeing you against the door. You could make out a couple sentences in between their hushed whispers, your brows knitting immediately as you heard the exchange.
“I'm saying is that I don't think she's a good fit for this lawsuit. She looks inexperienced. You know I could get my lawyer for you if you wanted, Max."
"You know I respect your opinion and all, Miguel, I really do. But isn't your lawyer mostly just based on family law?"
"Well yes, but I'm sure he has some lawyer at his firm designated towards personal injury lawsuits."
You stepped away from the door, dusting off your clothes as you let out a scoff to yourself. How dare he. How dare he make those comments without even bothering to have a full conversation with you? The most he'd given you was a glimpse, if you could even count the three seconds he looked in your direction as that. The two men in question departed the room and the first you noticed was the scowl that adorned miguel's features.
"How long have you been practicing personal injury cases exactly?" Niguel's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, like he was the one you needed to convince rather than Max. While your experience as a lawyer was mostly based around criminal law, you weren't about to divulge that information with Miguel. Not when he already doubted your abilities.
"I practice mostly in criminal law now, but I have some experience with those types of cases after completing a internship during law school," you responded, trying to maintain some semblance of your composure. You could tell that max greatly valued the opinion of his superior, if the look in his eyes was anything to go by. You had to impress him if you wanted to impress Max.
Miguel's eyes slightly narrowed at the statement but he decided not to question you further, having asked what law school you went to prior to that. "I'll see you later when you take my testimony?" He asked, to which you nodded. He departed the space, leaving you alone with Max. You guided him inside the conference room that he'd been with Miguel a couple seconds back, deciding to host your questioning inside.
You'd gotten the gist of what the lawsuit was concerning from Max when he first came in, but you wanted to make sure you had every detail on paper. From what time he'd clocked in to what time he'd clocked out, what he'd worn to work, small details that would normally be overlooked at first glance. You turned on the small recorder that you brought along, setting in the middle of the table so it would pick up every word spoken.
"So you came in at 5 am and left at 8 pm?"
"I did, yes."
"Were those overtime hours voluntary or were they placed upon you?"
"The boss of the division told me I had to stay behind to work on it when I was getting ready to leave. I was planning on going out and buying myself a birthday cake that day."
You couldn't help but feel a bit of sympathy for Max, your brows furrowing as you wrote down what he was telling you. You shut the recorder off, having collected most of the information that you were looking for. "For what it's worth, happy late birthday Max," you spoke up once you were finished writing, a surprised look on his face as the words registered. Almost as if it was the first time that someone had ever said those words to him.
"Thank you, no one really bothered to remember," he responded, sounding less timid than when he'd first stepped foot into your 'office.' While at first you were simply viewing him as a client, a means to build your expertise, you couldn't help but feel upset the more you talked to him. He'd come into your office, simply looking to get back into the job that had done him wrong. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy, overlooked by everyone in his life.
"Alright. I'll make sure to keep you updated on any developments in the case and when a court date has been established. The company's mostly likely gonna want to settle so it's up to you if you want to accept the compensation that they offer. My advice would be not to, at least not on the first offer," you spoke up, standing up after you were finished. You handed your card over to Max, helping him out of the building.
It was only after Max had left that you made your way up the stairs, looking for Miguel's office. You browsed through the different rooms, his being the furthest one in the hall. The biggest one. Of course. You knocked on the door, waiting for some type of answer. You looked through the window, noticing that all the lights had mostly been dimmed down. You weren't expecting anyone to actually open the door, collecting your stuff to attempt to come back at a later time.
"Can I help you with something?" You heard before you had the chance to get too far, Miguel standing in front of the door. you saw the look of exhaustion on his features, the darkness around him almost emphasizing it. "I was wondering if i could get your statement now but I can come back at a later time if you want."
Miguel didn't say anything, walking back into the room once you'd finished speaking. He had left the door open, though. You took that as a silent invitation, stepping inside the space and closing the door behind you. The sunlight peeking in through the windows helped illuminate your way over to the desk he was sitting at. "I'll take care of a phone call and I'll be back to answer whatever questions you have, attorney."
The statement that Miguel had given you was strangely detailed, every detail regarding the scene memorized. you couldn't help but notice he seemed to mutter out every sentence he spoke, barely making an attempt to open his mouth. The only times he'd spoken clearly were when he had his back to you and even then, he seemed to speak with a bit of a lisp.
"So I'm not saying you have to alter this right away, but you're gonna have to speak up louder in court if you want them to hear you." you spoke up after he finished answering one of your questions, making sure to approach the subject with caution. You didn't know if he would be sensitive towards it.
Even through the darkness of the room, you couldn't miss the glare that he gave you even if you tried. Yup, clearly sensitive. "I can't speak any louder if I tried. I'll try to keep it in mind though," he made more of an effort to make himself sound louder, though not by much. But at least he was willing to take your advice into consideration. You made a mental note to talk to the judge about adjusting his microphone volume.
"¡Papi!" A small girl approached miguel, her arms reaching up to where he was sitting. Miguel was the most vulnerable that you've ever seen him, his angry resolve melting into pure butter at the sight of the little girl standing in front of him. "Hola mija, how was school?" He asked, the two of them getting into a conversation about how her recent math quiz had gone. It was nice seeing the two of them interact, the way he followed up to every statement that she made.
"You don't mind if my daughter stays here during the interview, right?" Miguel asked, clearing his throat as he looked up at you. And just as soon as his resolve melted, it came back. "No, I don't mind since she's not testifying," you responded, watching as Miguel reached into one of his cabinets upon hearing your response. He took out a board game, Operation. he handed it over to the girl, her eyes almost seeming to shine in the darkness enveloping the three of you.
"Gracias papá," Gabriella told him upon receiving the game, skipping over to a lab table to play by herself. You jumped back into the questions after making sure that Miguel was ready, his demeanor seeming less hostile as compared to earlier. He responded to your questions with much more precision, adding in as many details as possible. You could tell just by the way he was fidgeting around that he was anxious to be home with his kid. You wrapped up the process pretty quickly, making swift movements to clear the desk from your belongings.
"Miss Lawyer Lady? Do you wanna play with me? It's just.. my mom doesn't really play games with me anymore," Gabriella spoke up before you had the chance to leave. You walked over to the table she was sitting at, putting your briefcase down. "Gabriella, I'm sure 'Miss Lawyer Lady' has things she needs to do. I'll play with you," Miguel told her, making the little girl turn to look at you with puppy eyes.
And you did have things to get done.
You had to review the evidence you'd collected today. Go through the different voice recordings to make your own recollection of events. Go through countless hours of security footage.
And yet, you found yourself agreeing to play a game of Operation with her. You convinced yourself that you were staying solely because those puppy eyes made you weak. You'd been planning on taking it easy on her but the thing is, she was much more talented than you at the game. While you were making the game buzz time after time again, she took out the items with ease.
"Makes sense why you decided to be a lawyer instead of a surgeon," Gabriella teased you after you messed up on the heart. You reluctantly handed the tweezers over to her, letting out a small chuckle as she struggled with the same section. "Think she might've killed your patient by now, Gabi," you hadn't heard Miguel come by and suddenly, he was standing next to you. "Fine, then you try it big guy," you challenged, handing him the tweezers when it was your turn again.
You almost wished you hadn't bothered to tease him. Despite the size of his hands, he was able to maneuver the tweezers in a way that guaranteed the piece wouldn't touch the board at all. All you could do was swallow your words when you looked over at the stupid smirk directed your way. But at least the scowl was better than the scowl he seemed to have reserved towards you.
“Hey, what does ‘cara de burro mean?’” You asked after a couple seconds, the sentence making itself back into your head. You’d meant to search up the meaning of it months ago but you seemed to forget every time you actually got close to a computer. “donkey face,” Gabriella answered, keeping her attention on the board in the middle of the table. You looked over at miguel for some kind of a reaffirmation, being met with a nod.
Oh, that shocking bastard.
You looked down at your phone upon hearing a buzz, your face immediately forming into a frown once you read the contents of the text. Another cancelled date. Three times these past two weeks alone. you looked up to see Gabriella looking curiously at you, waiting for you to divulge who and what the text was about.
"Just some guy I'm seeing. Cancelled our date again."
"Why don't you dump him already if he's done it more than twice?"
Because you still held out some hope that maybe, by some miracle above, he'd start to put in the effort that you needed so desperately. "It's more complicated than that, he's good when he wants to be," you weren't sure why exactly you felt the need to rationalize Matt’s actions to a eight year old but here you were.
"Just seems like he doesn't know what he has. You're very pretty, Ms. Lawyer Lady. Even though you suck at Operation, you're still pretty smart."
You couldn't help but smile at her words, going back to messing up your round of Operation. Hearing her say that was almost reassuring in a way, that maybe you did deserve more than what Matthew had been giving towards you. You could've sworn you felt Miguel's eyes almost boring into you for a couple seconds, though he had his attention on Gabriella when you turned to look at him.
The three of you spent about an hour playing Operation before Gabriella had to get ready for her soccer practice, leaving you wandering the streets of Nueva York. While Matt had cancelled on your date with him, you figured that maybe it wouldn't hurt to take the date over to him. You stopped by his favorite spot to get noodles from, getting a dinner for two before heading over to his apartment.
The sight in front of you made you regret even spending one more penny on what he wanted.
What awaited you in Matt’s apartment was a sight that you weren't expecting. He was sprawled out on the couch, bruises and cuts adorning his body like a second skin while a black haired woman worked on rubbing some alcohol into the deep marks. Wearing one of his button down shirts. With nothing underneath.
"What are you doing here?" Matt’s voice broke you out of your frozen state of shock, your grip on the takeout bag tightening so you wouldn't drop it. "I came here because I thought that we could share a dinner but clearly I was mistaken," you couldn't hide the bitterness out of your voice as you spoke. You were trying not to yell, knowing how sensitive he already was towards everyday sounds.
"It's not what it loo-"
"No. I don't care what you think this looks like. Because what it looks like to me is that you've been disregarding my texts and my calls to be out with this woman. That you've been cancelling out on our dates but you have no problem making time for her."
Matt and the woman remained quiet, almost as if they both knew that they wouldn't be able to come back with a rebuttal to that. "I can't believe I took time to beg you for a relationship," you finally muttered as you made your way out the door. You stopped by the steps, almost as if you were waiting for the woman and Matt to follow. For matt to beg you to come back to his apartment while the woman left in shame.
Unfortunately, you only stood there like a fool for two minutes. the door remained closed, their hushed whispers bleeding out through the walls. You made your way down the stairs, maintaining the last bit of your pride as you headed back home. The only thing you had to console yourself with was the noodles in your hand, though they were cold by the time you'd gotten home. You'd ended up eating your dinner alone, playing one of the videos of Gabriella playing soccer that Miguel so generously sent over.
Matthew hadn't been lying when he said that he was able to act like nothing happened between the two of you. The next day he was back to handing you case files and asking what you wanted for lunch like the event didn't happen. And normally, you'd appreciate the gesture. But now, all you could feel was infuriated. How much time you begged him to give a relationship with you a chance only to end up crying into your pillow the next day. And now, he acted like it was a glitch.
Like you were nothing more than another average employee.
You were able to act as nothing more than an average employee after taking a couple days to let yourself mourn the loss of your relationship. The evidence that you collected towards Alchemax was overwhelming, almost assuring you a 100% chance of winning the case. You'd made sure to talk to the judge about adjusting the microphone settings and turning off some of the lights to make things comfortable for your witnesses. Well, one specifically.
You could tell that Miguel appreciated those little details, his shoulders becoming less tense when he set foot onto the stand. He made an attempt to try to speak louder into the microphone, even if he was still trying to cover up his teeth. You appreciated the effort that he put into it, making sure to let him know that he'd done a good job. "Just focus on winning the case," he muttered after you were done, but you could've sworn you saw a hint of a smile on his way out.
Or maybe you were just delusional and you were looking for little signs that weren't there.
The countless hours of overtime that you spent reviewing past cases regarding this section of the law, working out drafts of the prosecution that you wanted to present, had come to fruition in the work. Max received a hefty amount upon the jury's decision, the verdict stating that the company was fully responsible in the damages that were caused to him. In turn, the company also took him back and made sure to sign on an agreement where they swore to make their work area more secure.
Overall, a win-win scenario.
"Congratulations. I suppose you're not completely incompetent," Miguel remarked upon seeing you walk in the restaurant, his arms folded across his chest. You planned on taking that as a compliment being that it was the only semblance of praise that he'd given you so far. "That might be the nicest thing you've said to me all day," you remarked, making your way to the table where Max was waiting for the two of you.
He invited the two of you out to drinks after news of the verdict got out, seeming like he needed ideas on how to spend the money he'd gotten. To which you graciously accepted.
"Thank you. For the time that you put into my case, I know how busy you lawyers tend to get," Max told you after greeting you, his gratitude towards you evident. No matter how many times you'd get praised by your clients, you'd never quite be able to get used to the way they spoke to you. They spoke to you like you were a hero, expressing their thanks time after time again.
Max and Miguel got into a conversation about one of the experiments that they were working on, the two of them including you into the conversation whenever you had a question to ask. You appreciated that the two of them tried to include you despite your limited knowledge in the science field. "No, the variable needs to be in a 90 degree room to be able to thrive properly. Otherwise, we just have to go out and scrap the experiment," Max explained to one of your questions, expressing how crucial that aspect was.
While it wasn't exactly riveting to hear the two of them explain the differences of DNA and RNA, you still found yourself having a pleasant time by the end of the night. "Sorry guys, I have to get going. But thank you for coming out tonight and for winning my case," Max dismissed himself around 8:30, giving the two of you a handshake before departing the restaurant. Despite the fact Max had offered the drinks, you and Miguel still chipped in for your individual drinks.
"Y'know, I tried to act cordial around you and treat you as respectful as possible, but you still don't like me. I’m curious as to why," the alcohol in your system loosening up your tongue, the words escaping from your mouth before you even got the chance to think about them twice. Your eyes widened as you looked over at Miguel, expecting him to just leave the money on the table and leave.
Rather, he seemed somewhat amused by the situation. Well, as amused as you'd ever see him be. "I don't like you because you're one of the most unpredictable women i've met. You just make me nervous. And frankly, it’s attractive in a way," he finally spoke up after a while, taking his own drink in hand. You blinked slowly, hoping that with a couple more seconds, you'd be able to register what he'd just said to you.
He continued to speak after your silence, taking advantage of the situation. "Sorry if I'm overstepping any boundaries here, but I feel as though there's some tension between us. I was wondering if you wanted to explore that."
Always the geek, even when he was trying to lure you into his bedroom.
"I'm not exactly looking for anything serious right now."
Your battered heart wouldn't be able to take being treated the same way Matt did to you again. Not even one more single time. You were determined to avoid getting put in that situation even if it meant you were missing out on opportunities.
"I'm aware. But I’m not looking for anything serious either, just something for the night."
Out of all the things that came out of his mouth tonight, that certainly wasn't what you were expecting.
Well, now or ever.
But.. you also couldn't deny it to yourself that you felt some of that tension that he'd been mentioning. Even if the two of you could barely be in a room together most of the time, he was still infuriatingly attractive. especially in the stupid button down he'd chosen to wear, his arms practically bulging out the sleeves when he rolled them up to his elbows. The pants he had on didn't help the situation either, the material accentuating his thighs and his slutty waist.
You wouldn't have figured as much. you would've imagined him seeking out a serious relationship, someone that would be able to properly take on the mantle of being Gabriella’s stepmom. But, in a weird way, you supposed that it also made sense. He and Gabriella both had their own sets of issues after his wife left the two of them behind, both of them wanting that sort of connection without actually putting themselves at risk of getting hurt.
You looked down at your phone when you felt it vibrate, seeing Matt’s name pop up on the screen. as much as you wanted to disregard his call, you figured that it probably wouldn't be the best thing to do. He was still your boss after all. This could be a call related to something about the Fisk case.
"Hey, what's up?" You tried to mask your reluctance as you spoke, though Matt almost seemed to notice it every time that it happened.
He didn't seem to care this time, jumping straight into the case of this phone call.
"I'm calling to see if you want to come over, darling. I mean, breakup sex has to be up on the list for top experiences."
You couldn't help the groan that escaped from your lips upon hearing the request, almost laughing at the audacity that he presented. Though, you figured he would've called an asylum had you started laughing now. He's still your boss. He's still your boss. He's still your boss.
"No, I'm not interesting in hooking up with you. I didn't think I had to tell you but I don't want you calling this number unless you have something related to our job. Goodnight."
You didn't give Matt a chance to respond, putting your phone away in your purse. You were busy mulling over Miguel's words, gulping down the last of your drink. You tried to think of any negatives that sleeping with him would have, but you eventually came up with nothing. You wouldn't have any obligation to see him if this all went south and the two of you agreed beforehand that this was something casual.
So, there was really only one thing for you to do now.
"Sure, let's go back to your place."
tags 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @yournextbimbogf @nixinluv02 @lizaistewdelulu @monarchberrysblog @loser-alert @spiderpapi2099 @sloverr
#moon-rivr#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara smut#⚖️beyond love⚖️#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara fanfic#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara spiderman 2099#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara across the spider verse#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x y/n#miguel spiderverse#spiderman 2099#miguel x y/n#miguel ohara#atsv miguel#miguel spiderman#self insert#miguel o’hara x fem!reader#matt murdock x fem!reader#across the spiderverse fanfiction#miguel ohara smut#miguel ohara fic#miguel ohara fanfiction
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A Moment of Serenity
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
Summary: Matt comes home from a rough night as Daredevil, only to experience one of the most intimate moments of his life.
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: None! A whole lotta feelings though!
a/n: This is inspired by that one reddit post called, “My girlfriend washed my hair today” and it’s one of the most Matt Murdock posts I’ve ever read. There’s not a lot of dialogue which is out of my comfort zone because I love being chatty! But anyway, I hope all my “someone give Matt Murdock a hug” gang enjoys!
——————————————————————————
It was late at night. You must have fallen asleep on the couch waiting up for Matt to make sure he got home okay after his night out as Daredevil. Your eyes slowly opened and you took a minute to adjust to the bright light from your phone. 2:27 am. God, he’s never out this late. You started to collect yourself from his couch and walked to his bed wrapped in his soft plaid blanket. You were almost to the bedroom when you heard the rooftop door open and felt a bit of the cold breeze of late autumn air.
“Hey,” you spoke barely above a whisper. Your voice was soft, probably due to the fact that you haven’t spoken in a few hours. You looked up at Matt adorn in his red Devil suit. His chest slowly rose and fell as he made his way down the stairs. He didn’t speak. Just gives you a small smile as he removes his gloves and cowl. He sat down on the stairs to remove his boots and you made your way over to him to caress his face and kissed his forehead. Usually when Matt kept to himself after a long night, that meant he didn’t want to talk much. Which, you respected. If you were out bloodying gang members and other sorts of criminals, you wouldn’t want to talk about it either. You stepped back as he stood up to move towards his closet and noticed Matt wincing in pain as he reached towards the back of his suit to unzip himself.
“Oh, here, let me help you,” you put the blanket on his arm chair and made your way over to him to the back of him to unzip his suit. You peeled the suit over his shoulders so he didn’t have to lift his arm or move his body much.
“Thank you,” Matt whispered to you. You hated seeing him in pain. You immediately noticed his new scrapes and bruises on his ribs and back. He stripped down to his underwear and put his suit back in the trunk and pushed it into the closet and gently shut the doors.
“You’re welcome,” you said back to him as Matt made his way over to the bathroom. You heard the shower start. You listened to the shower door open until you made your way to the bathroom as well to join him. You undressed yourself and opened the shower door to be met with a very mopey Matt. He reached for the shampoo as you grabbed it from his hands.
“Let me do it,” you said to him. You moved yourself so now your back was hitting the water and Matt’s back was facing the tiles. You squeezed some of his shampoo in your hands and you started to lather it in his hair. Matt’s eyes fell shut and his shoulders slumped a little at your touch. He needed this. You can tell he had a really bad night. He wasn’t angry at you, he was more so angry at himself. Cursing himself for not putting somebody in a coma tonight. Matt’s hands were resting on your waist as you massaged the shampoo deeper onto his scalp. His eyes were shut as he was fully indulged in you. Listening to your steady breathing and heartbeat helped him with nights like these.
You took the shower nozzle off the holder and began to rinse Matt’s hair. Your gaze was soft on him. Admiring the beauty he holds. God, he’s so beautiful. You were so lucky to have him. You used your fingernails to lightly scratch his head. He let out a soft moan chased by your name. You put the shower nozzle back and grabbed his body wash. Lathering it up in your hands, you begin to massage Matt’s upper body, being careful around his new injuries. You trailed gentle kisses along his shoulders and chest.
“I’m sorry you had a shit night, Matt,” you expressed to him as his empty gaze fell upon you. His eyes were glossy. Almost like he was fighting back tears. “Are you crying? Am I hurting you?”
“No,” he scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’m just so used to people who are cold with me. I’m not used to this kind of thing.”
“Oh,” you were caught by surprise. Matt was always so kind and gentle with you. He understood your feelings more than anyone ever could. You can’t imagine how anyone could be cold to him.
He cupped your face, your eyes met his. You and Matt have been intimate with each other but nothing came close to the intimacy you two are sharing right now.
“I love you. So much. I am the luckiest man alive. You take such good care of me, and I don’t think there are enough words in the English language to express how much I am in love with you,” Matt said directly to your face. Tears stung your eyes. You always knew Matt felt this way about you, but you never heard him say he was in love with you. You blinked away any tears trying to escape your eyes and Matt’s lips met yours with such delicacy and care. Like he was handling a rare flower.
You pulled away, “I always knew the Devil had a sweet side,” you slyly said. “I love you more than anything in this world, Matthew. You deserve every single ounce of love and care I give you. Even though your brain makes you think otherwise.”
Matt kissed you again, and again, and again. Until he was peppering kisses all over your face. He kept on reminding you how much he loves you. You had a feeling he wanted to spend the rest of his days with you.
You two finished up the shower and made your ways to bed to go to sleep. You climbed into the sheets after brushing your hair. You laid your head on Matt’s chest listening to his heart as you both drift off to sleep.
#matt murdock#daredevil#matt murdock x reader#daredevil fic#daredevil x reader#daredevil x you#daredevil x female reader#matt murdock x fem!reader#matt murdock x you#matt murdock fanfic#this goes out to all my touch starved girlies
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Irritated
Matt Murdock x F!Reader | Explicit 18+ | 2.2K
Summary Cooking for Matt goes all wrong and your insecurities come out.
Warnings smut, oral (f receiving), angst with a happy ending
A/N First time writing for Matt. The perfectionism was strong with this one - this has been sitting for months and I'm finally posting.
~~~
The cloud of smoke is quickly filling the apartment. You had turned the burners off, but the charred mass in the skillet is still sizzling. You crank the vent hood fan on high, and open a window. It isn’t enough.
—
As he’s racing home across the rooftops, the smell singes his nostrils. His body is exhausted but it gives him a dose of adrenaline before he realizes that it’s not a fire, just a burnt dinner.
Dinner? At this time of night?
That’s when it dawns on him. The smell is coming from his apartment. Maybe it’s my neighbor, he hopes with half-hearted optimism. With the way his night has gone, he doesn’t think he’ll get that lucky.
—
You’re fanning the smoke out of the window, using one of Matt’s law document tomes in Braille, when you hear the door to the roof. You speed up your fanning, as if that will in any way remove the smell from the apartment.
His footsteps are on the steps now and you turn to apologize — with some self-deprecating humor to relieve your anxiety — when you catch the irritation on his face. Cautiously, you say, “I’m sorry about the smoke. I was just trying to cook and I don’t know what—”
“It’s fine.” He cuts you off with words a little too flat and forceful to be sincere.
That familiar feeling washes over you. You had expected it to happen sooner or later, and here it was. He was finally figuring out that you were more trouble than you were worth.
He tosses his mask on the chair and yanks off his gloves, his mood infecting every motion. Without another word to you he retreats to his room and closes the door behind him.
—
From the other side of the door, Matt catches the way your breath hitches, hears you gather your things and walk out. He wants to stop you but the devil still has a hold on him and he knows he could only make things worse now.
He knew this would happen sooner or later. He knew he’d drive you away. Took longer than he thought it would. He tells himself the smart thing to do would be to let you go. Just let it end here.
But he hears your footsteps on the pavement outside. You’re walking home instead of taking a cab. He throws a shirt and pants on over his suit, and chases after you.
—
You only make it a block before he walks out of the shadows and strolls along next to you, not even winded from catching up.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone. You could get hurt.”
He says it so matter-of-factly, resentfully even. If he’s there out of real concern for you, rather than a sense of duty, he doesn’t show it. You say nothing to that and he doesn’t speak again.
The walk seems to take longer under the weight of the silence between you. When you finally get to your building’s door, you unlock it quickly and step inside. You don’t even look at Matt as you push the door closed behind you. But before it can latch, he catches it.
“Sweetheart,” he begins. “I’m sorry about the way I— the way I acted. It had nothing to do with you. I had a shitty night and I should’ve cooled off before coming home.”
When he puts it like that, it makes you seem unreasonable. Softly, apologetically, you say, “No, you should get to cool off in your own home.”
The words you’re not saying hang in the air between you but you feel too foolish to speak them so instead you stand there in the doorway, picking at your nails, looking down at them instead of him. He reaches out and stills your fidgeting, his warm hand enveloping both of yours. “What is it, sweetheart? Will you talk to me, please?”
Your first instinct is to lie, but the way he subtly turns his ear to you lets you know he’s listening to your heartbeat. Your pulse picks up just from knowing he’ll know if you lie.
You let out a sigh. “I just— I feel like I can’t do anything right.”
His brows furrow and he lifts his chin. You wait for him to prompt you but he’s going to keep silent until you tell him everything. He’s stubborn like that.
You remind yourself that he actually wants to know. He’s asking you for the truth. You take a deep breath, gearing up for an act of trust, and you let it all spill out. “All I do is make everything worse. I mean, I don’t bring anything to this relationship. But I thought maybe I could make you a nice meal. Then I’d be good for something. And that blew up in my face. Almost literally.”
A thick silence follows and you think he must be struggling and failing to dispute anything you’ve said. But you realize you’ve read it all wrong when he says in a quiet and deadly voice, “You think you don’t bring anything to our relationship?”
That voice — his devil’s voice — never fails to light a fire inside you. The sudden heat on your skin makes the night air feel that much cooler, and you shiver. His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, taking in all the ways your body has reacted to him.
He steps forward into your building, and you step back. “It seems I haven’t properly showed you how important you are to me.”
As he advances, you back down the hallway. You can’t take your eyes off his face. The naked desire, the grim determination, the devil stalking his prey. You nearly collide with the staircase banister, but he gently guides you out of the way with a hand on your hip. One he doesn’t remove until you get to your door.
He plucks the keys from your hands and feels for the right one before quickly unlocking your door. It swings open but you both stand at the threshold.
“Matt,” you begin. As much as your body is begging for him, you feel guilty that the whole situation got turned around. You were trying to prove something to him and now he’s the one putting in the effort. Again. “I just feel like I haven’t yet earned your love.”
He hangs his head, exhaling his frustration. “First of all, you don’t need to earn my love. Secondly, if you even think for one second that you don’t deserve it, then I’ve failed you.”
“No, stop! I’m the one who fucked up, okay?” You storm past him into your apartment. He follows you inside, shutting the door behind him.
He draws in a breath to say something, but thinks better of it. He nods and says simply, “Okay.”
It’s the way he gives in that has you on alert. He never just gives in; he’s planning something.
“Make it up to me, then,” he tells you.
“How?”
“Take off your pants.”
“Matt—”
“I said, take off your pants.”
“That can’t be all I’m good for.”
“Sweetheart, I promise you we will find a way for you to feel deserving in this relationship. But right now, let me surround myself with your scent so I can get this smoke out of my nostrils.”
How were you supposed to think straight when he says things like that to you? You really wanted to give him what he wanted, but it didn’t feel right. “Well then that’s just you doing something for me again and I still can’t give you anything.”
He flashes that grin he uses during cross-examination when he’s about to tear the prosecution’s case to shreds. “You wanted to feed me. Now let me eat.”
—
You don’t know how he does it. But as soon as you stopped protesting, he had you naked with your ass at the edge of the couch and him kneeling in front of you.
“Spread your legs for me,” he says in a low, soft voice. You do as he says. He takes one deep breath and whines, his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip. “I can already taste you.”
He starts on your thighs, pressing kisses from your knee to the hinge at your hip all along the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You feel the heat of his breath pass over your cunt before he kisses his way down to your other knee.
He’s doing it on purpose. Taking his time and lavishing you with kisses. Giving again. The guilt washes over you. “Matt—”
He shushes you just as the pad of his thumb brushes at your entrance, collecting your slick before sliding up to your clit. Your eyes roll back into your head and your words die on your lips. He applies just the right amount of pressure as he works circles over your sensitive nub. You whimper at his touch and he gives a satisfied hum in response.
It feels so good yet it’s not enough. “Matty, please.” Your voice is barely even a whisper but he hears you loud and clear. He lifts his thumb to his lips, moaning as your taste hits his tongue at last.
You expect to feel his mouth on you but instead he brings his hands together and says, “Bless us O Lord and these Thy gifts—”
“Matt—”
His name is no sooner from your mouth than his lips wrap around your clit, and you cry out from the pleasure. His skilled tongue slides through your folds and dips into your entrance. You clench around nothing, pushing more of your juices onto his greedy tongue. You don’t have to worry about making a mess on the couch. He’d never let one drop of you spill.
You honestly don’t know which of you are making more noise. He’s so vocal even with his mouth as busy as it is. He grunts and moans with every exhale, and every inhale is a heavy intake through his nose — when it’s not pressed into you.
Your hand, outstretched at your side, grips a throw pillow, the stuffing clumped beneath your palm, your fingers wrinkling the fabric. Matt clamps his hand over yours — while his tongue continues swirling — and guides you to the crown of his head. You grip a fistful of his hair and instinctively pull him even tighter to you.
His moans muffle but grow more desperate. In truth, you try hard not to make more sound than your breath, just to catch every unhinged noise of his.
You’re so close now. You can’t help but raise your hips a bit, humping his face as his tongue works you over. The vibration of his growl sends you over the edge. No matter how quiet you’ve been trying to be, the force of your orgasm rips pleas from your lips. “Matty…fuck! Oh, Matty, hngh…”
As you come down from your high, you loosen your grip on his hair and he slowly pulls away from you. You take in the sight of him. A bit of his Daredevil suit peeks beneath his shirt. His hair is mussed, hairline damp with sweat, and his mouth and chin are coated with you. He licks his lips and smiles and it’s totally unfair how pretty he is just like this.
You let your head fall back, your breathing slowly returning to normal. But the drop in your heart rate coincides with the rise of your thoughts, and the feelings of guilt, shame, unworthiness. You don’t know why you can’t just accept his love. But no matter how much you try to trust that he means what he says, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve fooled him somehow. And he’s going to wake up one day realizing his mistake.
Almost as if he can read your thoughts —
“Sweetheart, if you need me between your legs to chase away your thoughts, I’m more than happy to be of service, but it’s probably not the healthiest way to deal with it.”
“Matt Murdock’s lecturing me on what’s healthy.”
“I know. I know.” He gives you that wide smile. So comforting that it’s impossible to feel anything but warmth when he smiles at you like that. Then he gives your thigh a little smack and says, “Let’s get cleaned up.”
—
Later, while you’re laying in bed together, his body cradled around yours, you’re both too tired to continue the conversation you know you need to have, a conversation of the ongoing variety. In the quiet and the dark you both feel your insecurities rise. Matt is pretty sure he’ll end up driving you away. You’re pretty sure he’ll realize you aren’t as great as he thinks and leave. But both of you really want this to work and you’re both willing to work on it.
Your thoughts hazy, your breath becoming rhythmic, you speak into the dark. “I don’t have to cook for you, you know. Like if you don’t want me to. Do you want me to?”
He hums in response, sleep nearly stealing his ability to speak. “If you want to… then I want that…too. But you don’t have to. But you can. You can use my kitchen whenever you want. If you want.”
You’re both quiet again and you nearly fall asleep then he says, “Just not for a few days. Let the smoke clear. ‘M staying at yours til then.”
#matt murdock fic#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x fem!reader#daredevil fic#matt murdock fanfic#daredevil fanfic#matt murdock smut
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List of Installments for All These Years
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut [Comfort now exists in this series!!]
Summary: You met Matthew Murdock unexpectedly at Columbia University and you couldn't deny that there was an instant attraction–for you. But for Matt, you became as close of a friend to him as Foggy did. As the years pass by, your feelings only grow for your best friend, but all you can do is watch as he dates and sleeps with every other woman on campus and eventually in New York City but you.
Installment List
Part 1: "Saturday Night"
Part 2: "Of Drinking and Dishonesty"
Part 3: "Betrayal"
Part 4: "All the Broken Pieces"
Part 5: "Graduation"
Part 6: "The White Whale"
Part 7: "So Close Yet So Far"
Part 8: "Planting a Seed of Thought"
Part 9: "A Truth Revealed"
Part 10: "The Weight of Grief"
Part 11: "Last to Know"
Part 12: "Considering the Offer"
Part 13: "Breaking the News"
Part 14: "Day Late Friend"
Part 15: "What If...?"
Part 16: "The Death of Miscommunication"
Part 17: "Bridging the Distance"
Part 18: "A Series of Firsts"
Part 19: "Coffee, Brunch, and Hotel Rooms"
Part 20: "This Isn't Goodbye"
Part 21: "The Sound of Your Voice"
Part 22: "Declarations and Desire" {Coming Soon}
#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x you#matt murdock angst#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock x female reader#matt murdock series#matt murdock fic#matt murdock fanfic#matt murdock
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Hey, can I make a Matt x Reader request. Reader is a doctor and lives with Matt one evening Matt comes home with Spiderman who needs help. You become surrogate parents for Peter and think about adopting him since he's a son to both of you anyway.
Peter
~ Sorry this took me so long to get to. I had something written at some point but ended up scraping it 😭
~ Fluff, Maybe a little angst bc Peter is hurt at the beginning?
~ WC: 1,536
~ Matt brings home a kid ~
Being with Matt you've learned always to expect the unexpected. Matt has a heart of gold, always doing everything he can to help those in need. It's a good thing you're the same way. You wouldn't be a doctor if you didn't have the urge to help people but sometimes Matt, in your opinion, helps people that don't help him far too often.
However, one thing you didn't expect was for your wonderful boyfriend to come home with a kid. Okay maybe not kid, he's about sixteen years old, but that's still way younger than you or Matt. And way too young to be doing what he does.
When Matt brings home the kid, the first thing you do is freeze for a second. Who is this kid? How did he get hurt? How does Matt know him? Why is he in your apartment bleeding?
You're quickly pushed out of your thoughts when Matt helps the kid onto the couch and looks to you for help. You immediately jump in, using your doctor skills to the best of your ability. Both he and your boyfriend stay silent the whole time. Matt stays sitting in an armchair to the side, obviously stressed by whatever happened.
It takes a while to patch up the kid, whose name you still don't know, but as soon as you're finished, he falls asleep on the couch and allows you time to discuss this strange situation with Matt.
Why is it that he stays silent the whole time you're busy helping the kid but the second you're ready to talk he runs off to the kitchen, not exactly running off as the kitchen is right there, but still?
“Matt. Explain?” You don't know what to say or ask. A million questions are running through your head as you follow him to the kitchen.
“His name's Peter.” He hesitates to continue. “He's spiderman, that's how he got hurt.”
“What? He's a child!” How the hell is a teenager Spiderman?
“Yeah, I know that's why I've been keeping an eye on him.” He says as if it's the most casual thing ever. As if he didn't just bring me a beaten-up sixteen-year-old to fix up.
“What do you mean keeping an eye on him? Do you listen to him?” You turn back to the living room and collapse in a chair.
“No, he lives too far away. I just mean that I call him and check up on him.” His voice is quiet, careful not to wake the sleeping kid. “I met him a few weeks ago.”
“When you were in Queens? Is that why you left?” A couple of weeks ago, Matt spent a few days in Queens for a new client he met. He never said much about it and you never asked. You never wanted to invade his clients' privacy and you weren't sure he could tell you about it anyway.
“Yeah actually.” He doesn't say anymore and for some reason, you don't ask. Not sure if you want to know the reasons this kid, Peter you now know, could be in danger. You know Matt can handle himself so most of the time you try not to worry yourself but this is a young kid, that you can almost guarantee doesn't have anywhere near the amount of fighting training Matt had.
After a few hours of making sure he was okay on the couch, and convincing Matt to stay in for the night, you both decide to head to bed.
You wake up the next morning to loud crashing noises from the kitchen. You automatically know it's not Matt because one he is a terrible cook and two he is still lying in bed with an arm over your waist. So Peter must have woken up from his injury-induced slumber and started cooking because he's hungry?
You reluctantly throw yourself out of bed. Despite getting plenty of sleep you feel anything but well rested. As you head out of the bedroom you see Peter wearing the old clothes Matt put out for him and trying to cook something in the kitchen. From the smell of it, he's probably not the best cook either.
“Good morning.” You greet him, coming into the kitchen and leaning against the counter. He whips around to look at you in surprise, he clearly doesn't have the same super senses as Matt.
“Oh uh, good morning!” He tries his best to sound cheerful but his voice has an underlying tone of shock and awkwardness. “Sorry for waking you up. I know taking of someone you don't know so late at night isn't the best, so I thought I would make you and Matt some breakfast to try and make up for it. I'm Peter by the end.” You stay silent as he falls into an awkward ramble.
“Hi Peter I'm y/n. And you don't have to worry about making it up to us, we were happy to help. Plus I deal with this stuff all the time.”
“Right, you're a doctor! Matt told me about that.” He puts down all the stuff he was “cooking” and leans along the counter with you.
“Oh, he talks about me?”
“Well, it was that or all the people we've fought as masked superheroes.” He shrugs.
“Superhero? Aren't you a little young to be fighting like you do?”
“Maybe but if I can help people why wouldn't I?”
“You could always be selfish and use your powers for yourself.” You tell him out of both curiosity and the fact that if you had any kind of powers you can't guarantee you would use them to help anyone else.
“Yeah, I guess.” And just like you both stop talking. Waiting in silence for Matt to wake up before you order breakfast.
Peter stayed with you guys for a little over a week while you made sure he was fully healed from his injuries. Before long he was going back home to Queens to whoever he lives with. You know from one brief conversation that his parents are gone, he never said how or who he stays with now but that's not any of your business.
He comes over almost every week now for dinner, one of the only nights a week you and Matt cook instead of ordering takeout. You have the feeling Matt has imprinted on Peter, kind of like a baby duck. Maybe it's because they’re so similar. They can relate to each other in a way Foggy and Karen can’t. Well, Frank can but he and Matt don’t exactly get along.
Today is one of the days that he’s gonna be coming over for dinner. You and Matt are in the kitchen making a new pasta dish.
“So I wanted to ask you a question?” Matt suddenly tells you, while in the middle of stirring the pasta sauce.
“You know you don't have to ask to ask a question right?” It doesn't matter how many times you say it, Matt will always warn you before asking a question. Most likely because he's worried about bothering you.
He lets out a deep chuckle. “I know, sweetheart, but I'm worried you'll say no.”
“I doubt it. What is it?”
“You know how Peter lives with his aunt right?” He pulls the finished sauce off the stove so he can put his full attention on you.
“I knew he lived some family member, yes. Why?” You’re very curious as to where this is going.
“Well, she’s getting older and I thought maybe he could come and stay with us for a while.” Not what you expected him to ask.
“Matt, I would say yes to that if I could see how it would work. We don't have the room.” You shrug. You would love to help Peter out but you don’t think he would like living on the couch for at least a year.
“That’s why I'm asking you. You always know what to do with these things.” If he means the way you freak out thinking of every possible solution and pretend to know what you’re doing then yeah, you are a master at it.
“I don't know, Matty. There is about a year and a half before he goes to college, there is no way he’ll be comfortable here for that long.”
“I know. Believe me, I’ve been thinking of a way this could work. I just don’t want him to be alone.”
“He won’t be. Even if he can’t live here he’s always welcome.” And just by saying that you come up with the perfect idea.
A few weeks later it worked. Somehow everything magically fell into place. At the end of your previous conversation about it, you told Matt how great it would be if Peter could have his own apartment close to yours and magically one became available in the same building. Being sixteen, Peter obviously couldn't pay for the place himself but you were able to help out, having some extra money due to being a good doctor.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Matt comes up to you. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Eh, you’re rubbing off on me.” You grumble with a fake annoyance.
#matt murdock my beloved#matt murdock fluff#matt murdock imagines#matt murdock one shot#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock fic#matt murdock imagine#matt murdock reader insert#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock fanfic#matt murdock fanfiction#matt murdock fics#matt murdock#matt murdock comfort#matt murdock x fem!reader#matt murdock x reader fluff#matthew murdock x reader#matt murdock x gender neutral reader#daredevil x gn!reader#daredevil x you#daredevil x reader#spiderman#peter parker
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found out in the lemire run matt is canonically jake lockley's lawyer and subsequently lost my mind
#moon knight#daredevil#moon knight fanart#daredevil fanart#jake lockley#steven grant#matt murdock#digital art#my art#artists on tumblr#i have a lot to say about these two but#the idea spawned when#i saw ppl on twt pitting the mk and dd shows against eachother#and i was like enough fighting they should just kiss#and then i was like Oh..#anyways im cherishing my fanon jake until tomorrow when it all comes crashing down#can i name them i want to call them lockdock it works#ok thats enough tags BYE#edit: all tjese notes and still not one fic.. we artists and writers need to have eachothers backs u know..
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enter sandman - m. murdock
a/n: see me personally? never seeing the pearly gates. never ever. not after this one . enjoy. feedback always appreciated ! <3
warnings: guys... where do i fucking start. SMUT. SMUT!!!! GRAPHIC PORN!!!! no plot!!!! degradation!!! dumbification!!!! praise!!!! oral!!! (m recieving) cursing!!!! nicknames!!!! reader is female and has female parts and she/her pronouns!!!!! matt is cocky, mean!dom!matt, the ending is kind of cute, lots of inappropriate use of matts senses, uhhh guys let me know if i missed any because... wow.
word count: 4.2k
summary: you have a hard time sleeping. the devil has a few games in mind to tire you out.
pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader
now playing: enter sandman - metallica
"exit light/enter night/take my hand/we're off to never-never land"
You have a horrible habit. Okay, you wouldn’t really consider it to be a habit per say, but you’re not proud of it. You will for it to end.
You can never seem to fall asleep. Staying asleep is easy, but getting there is a problem. Your mind is always racing, which causes you to spiral into a whirlpool of anxieties. You’re too busy thinking about your job, or what you’ll eat tomorrow, or when you’ll be doing your next load of laundry.
But most of all, what keeps you up at night is worrying about the devil. And not in the sense that you’re a holy catholic who wants to repent for her sins, either. Your worry for the devil comes because you’re hopelessly in love with him.
And you worry that one day he will come home damaged beyond repair. Maybe one day he will not come home at all, and you’ll have to hear about it on the news the next morning. It’s a hellish existence, loving the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, but you make do.
Like tonight—You had baked brownies earlier in the night, and then read your book for the better part of the night. You won’t allow yourself to fall asleep because the possibility of seeing him overwhelms you. But as the hours pass, you begin to lose hope.
And just as you you’re beginning to accept that he won’t be coming to see you and you’re really letting yourself drift, you feel a warm hand on your neck. He’s taken his gloves off tonight. You consider yourself blessed.
“Hi,” You mumble softly, your brain going all fuzzy with even just that bit of contact. You’ve missed him. “Was beginning to think you’d never show.”
But your devil is in no mood for simple pleasantries tonight.
“What have I told you about waiting up for me?”
“Not to?”
“I said,” His hand moves from its gentle place against your neck to grip your chin, “As long as you leave the window open I’ll know to just come in and take what I need.”
Your face flushes, and he grins, because he can tell that he’s making you flustered.
“Stop laughing at me.”
“No one’s laughing at you, sweetheart.” He hums.
“You are.” He shrugs gently. He’s wearing his black suit tonight, and it’s making you feel… a lot of things.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Damn him.
“Nothing!”
He leans forward and kisses you softly, and you lean up to try and kiss him further, but he pulls away, his grip returning to your chin, to keep you just centimeters away. The devil is an expert at reading you, despite his lack of sight. He has developed the habit of studying you, and knows that as of late, you’re not allowing yourself the pleasure of sleeping. He knows it’s because you’re so anxious and worried about every little thing, so tonight.. He intends to fix it. Or at least, maybe come up with a temporary solution.
“Liar.” He whispers and moves away further. “I’m not going to touch you until you tell me.”
Your devil is many things, but he does not bluff. He has this will of steel.
“I prefer it when you wear the black suit,” You tell him, “It’s not very protective, I know. But you look good in it.”
He makes a noise of realization, before moving his hand to slip under the hem of your shirt, resting his hand on your stomach. You shiver a bit, his hand warm against your skin. That’s what you get for wearing a tee shirt and shorts to bed every night, he’d tell you.
“That’s my smart girl.” Your heart flutters. “Mm, you really like that huh?”
“You’re awful.” You always pretend to hate how he reads you, but secretly, although you suspect he knows it, you love that someone knows you so well. He grins and his hands move again, this time picking you up into his arms and carrying you to the bedroom. “Hey! Not cool, we talked about picking up when we have no warning—” You cut yourself off with a grunt when he tosses you onto the bed.
“Shut up.”
He hears no objections.
Just as quickly as you’re thrown on the bed, he is above you, mask still on, kissing your neck.
“Wanna play a game, sweetheart?” He asks, hands on your hips, his fingers creeping up the hem of your shirt. You shiver again, and he just grins “You can answer.”
“Sure. I like games.” Your voice is meek, too busy enjoying all the contact with him. He hums softly.
“I know you do, and you’re just so good at them.” You grin against his skin as he kisses your cheek. “See that? That’s what I want to know.” You’re a bit lost.
“Know what?”
“I want to know what turns you on more— praising you or degrading you.”
What a fun game to play with a human lie detector.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, let’s play.” You confirm. He kisses you quickly.
“Good girl.” You hum softly, but it isn’t quite what he’s looking for. It’s good, don’t get him wrong, but he’s after more. “Tell me about your day, baby.” He continues to plant kisses along your skin. You know this isn’t a request but rather a requirement of the game.
“Well, I had work today, then I had to stop at the grocery store. I made dinner and—” You’re cut off by a kiss to a sensitive spot on your neck, because you can’t help but let out a gasp of pleasure.
“What? A few kisses and you’re already turning dumb for me?” You shudder softly, your heartbeat steadily increasing. The deep cadence of his voice paired with his words make you want to just melt. “Oh, there she is..”
He lets go of your arms for just a moment to slip your shirt off. Then, your hands are back above your head, held down by his grip. He moves on from your neck and begins to kiss down.
“I like this game.” You manage out, and he chuckles.
“I know you do. You know how?”
You think about it for a moment before you answer. You want to be right.
“You can hear my heartbeat?”
“And I can smell you. You like this a lot. More than you like me?” He continues to kiss down your torso.
You don’t answer for a second. He bites your skin gently, prompting you to answer.
“No.” You answer, “No, I don’t like anything.. anyone more than you.”
He kisses the spot where he bit softly.
“Even smart girls need to be reminded sometimes.” Is all he says before he continues to kiss you. You try to hide it, try to hide your reaction to the words, but he grins against your skin.
“Matt..” you groan out softly because his kisses have stopped.
“What?”
“Why’d you stop?” You whined.
“You’re my smart girl, why don’t you tell me?” You pause, biting your lip. “Is it because you can’t? Do you like being dumb for me, smart girl?” You want to defend yourself, but he bites your skin again.
“Yes!” you respond, and he does the same thing he did before—He kisses where he bit.
“Good girl.” He responds. “I like making you dumb just from a few kisses anyways.” He tells you, finally reaching your stomach with his kisses. “I love my dumb little smart girl.” The cadence he has to his voice makes you whine again. He knows every part of you, even the parts you never wanted to tell him about. He’s just too observant. “I love that despite how well behaved and good you are, you’re dumb enough to be talked down to like this, by some strange man who just crawled through your window.”
You answer before you can think about it. You’re smart enough to know that he’s at least half right.
“You’re not just anyone, you’re my Matt.”
“Your Matt?” He hums. “Your Matt, My ditzy smart girl.” He grins, before placing one last kiss right above the waistline of your shorts.
He moves so he can kiss your lips again, kissing you quick before pulling off his mask so you can see his face. He has a cut on his forehead and a bruise forming on his cheek. It’s clear he had a good night though, or else this wouldn’t be happening.
“Your face..” You frown, concern in your voice.
“Observant and smart?” He teases, kissing your forehead. “What happened to wanting to be dumb for me?”
You’re almost embarrassed of it now.
“You’re being mean.” You say quietly.
“Mean? Me? To my best girl?” He kisses you quickly again. “Never.” He hums. One of his hands goes down to your thigh, his fingertips inching up.
“Never.” You echo.
“What do you say, smart girl?” He asks, “Wanna play a few more games? See just how desperate I can make you?”
You huff at his words, your brain short circuiting to the point where you speak before you can really think.
“I just want you to fuck me!”
He stops just as he’s about to pull off your shorts and slithers back up so the pair of you are face to face.
“First of all,” he places a kiss to your lips gently, “You are not in a position to be making demands, pretty girl. Second,” He kisses you again, “Such a foul mouth for such a dumb baby,” You let off a soft whine, and he has the audacity to mock your whine, “I know, it’s not much of a lecture when you like when I talk to you like this,” He hums. “And third, I know you’re smarter than to be a brat.” He says gently, kissing you again.
“I’m not a brat.” You whine, and again, he mocks you before devolving into a deep chuckle, leaning in to kiss you.
“I love you.” He says, with a grin on his face.
He’s gentle with you for a few moments, softer. You decide that now is your chance, and if you don’t act now, you’ll spend the rest of your night under his thumb. So, you flip over and have him under you, as you sit on his lower stomach. His hands come up to the back of your thighs.
“I’ve got you now, Devil.” You grin, leaning in to kiss him. But before you can, he’s flipping you back over, keeping you pinned by your legs.
“Brat.” he accuses, leaning in to kiss you again. You huff. “Easy, pretty girl, your attitude is getting the best of you.”
You frown and turn your head when he goes to kiss you.
“Tell me I’m not a brat and I’ll kiss you.” You demand, and he grins, but this time it isn’t soft. It’s almost wicked. He grabs your chin roughly and tilts your head towards him, before kissing you roughly.
“What did I tell you?” he asks. “Come on, smart girl, I know you remember.”
“That I was in no position to make demands?”
“That’s right.” He coos, “Now, baby, do you want to hear what I had planned for you tonight?”
You must admit, you’re very curious.
“Sure, Matty.” His grin widens.
“Well, I was planning on playing this little game with you, then eating you out until your thighs are shaking,” You let out a whine, but he just shushes you softly, “Sh, sh, sh… You wanted to hear, so listen.” He hums. “Then, I was going to fuck you until you were full of my cum.” He tells you.
Then, he lets out a disappointed sigh.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“That was what I was planning on, but because you decided to be a brat, I have a new plan.”
“I liked that plan so much though..”
“I know, Sweetheart, me too.. But you’re the one who ruined it.” He reminded, leaning in, and biting your jaw between his fingers. His hand positioning is not exactly choking, but the grip is tight enough to leave marks. He feels you grind your hips up a bit, and chuckles again. “Smart girl, already figuring out what’s next.”
You tilt your head in confusion, but before you know it, he’s repositioning you so you’re in his lap at the edge of the bed. He pats your thigh gently.
“Get up for me, Honey. Then you got to take your shorts off for me.” You do as you’re told, no longer interested in fucking up his plans. Then, he pulls you back onto his lap, and he hums gently. You decide to take a risk and bring your hands up to his jaw, and then up towards his mask.
“Please?” You ask gently. “Wanna see you..” He nods softly, letting you pull off his mask, as his head tilts to the side to kiss your palm.
“You remember who’s in charge, right, sweetheart?”
“You, devil.”
“That’s right, angel.” He praises, “And that’s why you’re going to ride my thigh.” You let out a soft whine, and he shakes his head, “No, no whining from you, sweet girl. You wanted to be a brat, so you gotta reap what you sew.”
He holds your hips as you begin to grind against his thigh, and Matt focuses on the way your breathing hitches as you rub against his thigh. Your hands grip his shoulders as he begins to kiss your neck again.
Your skin burns with need, and your hips roll faster as your breath speeds up, and slowly, minute by minute, you’re edging closer to your release. But he knows you’re close to coming undone not only because of how your skin is hot, and your breath is airy, but because you’re making such a mess.
You’re definitely staining his pant leg with your wetness, because after his insatiable teasing, you’re just desperate for him, and oh so sensitive. The speed of your grinding increases, and then, because he wants to see you break, he starts to bounce his leg up so that in addition to your grinding, it’s overwhelming you.
“Matt,” you say, breathlessly. “Matt, please..”
“Please what, smart girl? What do you want?” He’s really going to make you ask for it. This is all part of his game.
“Please..” You start, resting your head on his shoulder. “Please, can I come?”
“What was that, baby? I didn’t hear you.”
Oh, now he’s being a fucking dick. You know he can hear you, with his damned super senses. Nonetheless, you pick your head up and manage to get it out.
“Please let me come,” You beg, and he laughs.
“You know what’s funny, baby?” You let out a whine. “You’re so smart, always holding the world on your shoulders, and yet.. A little bit of teasing and riding my thigh, and you can barely get a sentence out.. You’re being so good for me, baby. So good at following orders,” He bites your neck. “So, go ahead and come for me, sweet girl.”
As soon as those words leave his lips, you’re letting go, the tight knot in your stomach finally snapping. You moan into his ear, his hands on your side to keep you stable as you come undone. He keeps bouncing his leg to have you ride out your high as your legs begin to shake. You’re making all of these pretty noises for him, and the smell of your juices are overwhelming for him.
“Such a good girl for me,” he hums, kissing you softly. He’s back to being rather gentle with you. But his cock is incredibly hard against his pants, and he needs to feel you clench around him. “Can my pretty baby ride my cock?” You’re shaking but you nod gently.
He knows you’re verging on the edge of being unable to do much else, but he wants to see how far he can push you. So, he pats your leg again and you stand up. His hands come up to undo your bra and pull off your panties.
He holds them in his hands for a moment, breathing in deeply as your scent continues to overwhelm him. He wastes no more time, pulling off his shirt and then starting to unbuckle his black pants. On instinct, you’re on your knees, with this.. primal desire to suck him off.
He takes a deep breath, his hand going to your hair and pushing your hair from your face. You lean into his touch, smiling softly up at him. He knows how much you like just thoughtless sex—You value long, intimate nights too, but after a long week, you need to shut off your brain and he needs to take control.
“Wanna suck my cock first, baby? You’re so good for me..” He says softly, slipping down his boxers.
“Just wanna be good for you,” You hum, eying his glistening hardness. You can’t deny that he looks truly crafted by the hands of God—Most of his body is glistening with sweat, cock glistening with precum. He is heavenly and the only thing you’ll ever want to worship.
“You’re so good for me. My dumb little smart girl.” The name form earlier makes you weak, as you lean in and begin to lick his tip. His hand grips your hair as he inhales sharply. “Careful, sweetheart.” He tells you, beginning to guide you in sucking him dry.
His hand guides you as your head bobs against his cock, the taste of him turning your brain further into mush. He makes sure to guide you at a steady pace, moaning out praise, and occasionally degradation.
“So fucking good for me,” He gasps out, “My good little girl.. Sucking my cock so good—Ah, fuck..” He gasps as you quicken your pace. “Sucking me like the little slut you are..” You moan against cock at that, and he gasps, before it devolves into a low chuckle. “And you like it, too.. Being called my little slut.. Good little slut, just for me.. Got you trained so well..” He holds on for a few more moments before he comes into your mouth, panting softly.
His cum dribbles down your chin as you swallow most of it, so his hand comes up to your chin to gently wipe the dribble off before he slips his thumb into your mouth.
“Every last drop for me, angel.” He requests. You happily suck on his thumb for a few moments while he recovers. Then, he leans down and picks you up, resting you on the bed again. “Now you’re gonna ride me, right, pretty?”
“Mhm..” You smile, and as soon as he lays back on the bed, you’re on top of him. His cock slides against your folds and you whine a bit, just desperate for the feeling of him filling you up. “You know how badly I want your cock..” He grins at this.
“You have it, angel. Just gotta ride me, okay?” You hum in response. You slowly lower yourself down onto his cock, taking a few minutes to adjust to the size of him. But your slow pace is not quick enough for Matt, whose hands find your hips (for the millionth time tonight) and quickly slides his entire length into you.
You moan loudly, a feeling of pain and pleasure blurring together as he hits just the right spot to make you see stars.
“Matt, fuck,” You whine, wanting to take a second to catch your breath.
“Color?” It’s a safe word system—He knows he might have taken it a tad too far, pushing into you like that.
“Green,” You promise.
“Okay, good.” He leans up and kisses your forehead gently, a sign of the gentleness that resides in his demeanor despite just how into his dominate behavior you are. He begins to roll his hips, and revels in the sound of the pretty screams coming out of your mouth as he begins to pound into you. “I’ve got you fucked dumb, baby? Can’t even ride my cock properly?” He asks, pulling you in to kiss your skin.
“No,” You protest, “I can do it,” It comes out whinier than you wanted it to—Much whinier, but you can’t deny that he’s wrong about that first part. Your brain is blurry in the best way. He hums in approval before gently pushing you away from his lips.
“Prove it, then.” He demands, and his hips are no longer bucking into you. Instead, you shakily begin to bounce against his cock, using his moans and gasps as guidance. His hands grip your thighs as you ride him. “There you go, angel. It’s not too much for you, right?” He hums.
“No!” You protest again, “No, Sir, I can take it,” He grins at the slip of the title. He swats the side of your thigh, rubbing it softly after you yelp, but it quickens your pace. His brain is beginning to fog too, so he knows he wants to get a few more comments out.
“Fucking liar,” he laughs, “Even when your.. fuck..” He gasps, the feeling of you clenching around him overwhelming him. “When you’re bouncing on my cock and moaning for me, you’re still lying..” His one hand travels to play with your clit, rubbing small circles into it. “So,” He takes a deep breath, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder, before picking his head back up. “I’ll ask you again.. Is it too much for you, my ditzy girl?”
Tears prick your eyes, as you will your brain to come up with a comprehensive answer.
“Yes!” You admit, “it’s too much,” You pant, but because you don’t say ‘red’ he keeps going.
“Aw, I know, honey,” He plants a soft kiss to your lips, the hand that isn’t rubbing circles into your clit coming up to brush sweaty hair from your face. “But you can take it. Come on, sweet thing, I know..” He hums. “Come for me, baby..”
And you do—You come hard, your vision going white for a fraction of a second as you let out these angelic noises. He doesn’t give a damn about noise complaints right now, all he can focus on is the smell of your sweat, your cum, and your pretty little noises.
You continue to rock your hips, wanting to feel his cum fill you up. And after a few more minutes, your wish comes true, as he grips your hip tightly with one hand as he comes deep inside you, as you roll your hips just a few more times, riding the last waves of a euphoric high.
His chest is heaving as you slump down against his chest. The pair of you are sweating, but he still looks so beautiful like this. His cock still fills you, his cum deep within you. His hand gently runs up and down your back,
“How’s my sweet girl doing..?” He’s afraid he went too far with you, hoping his words didn’t push you into a bad headspace. It’s happened before, where you just needed time to come back to reality. But tonight, you’re exhausted in a whole new way. You’re happy that you’ll actually be able to sleep.
“I’m good,” You promise. You’re sweaty, out of breath and completely fucked out of your mind.
He takes your jaw in his hand and tilts your head up so you’re looking in his general direction.
“You know I don’t really think you’re dumb, right?” He just needs to make sure.
“I know,” You giggle, “But it’s pretty hot in the moment. Besides, you took care of me.”
He grins and kisses your forehead.
“I’ll always take care of you.” He promises. You know he means it, too. Your Matty, always taking care of you. “You know you don’t need to worry about everything, right? You don’t have to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
“I know,” You start, “But you’re always so busy with the firm, and being Daredevil, and—” He hushes you softly.
“I am never too busy for you.” He says gently. “I know I can’t do your job for you, but I can be more careful and help with dinner, you know.” He just wants you to be less stressed all the time, the hypocrite.
“Okay.” You say gently. “Thank you, Matt.” He holds you close and places a soft kiss to your head.
“You’re still shaking,” He says gently, “But you need to shower.” He says softly, moving now so that he can carry you to your bathroom. You whine at the feeling of emptiness you’re left with when he slides out of you, and he just laughs. “I know, Baby, I know.”
Matt is just a general fan of taking care of you. Even when you’re fucked out of your mind like you are right now. You love that about him.
You love that the devil is so devoted to you. It stirs something deep inside you that you can’t quite voice. Matt knows it, too.
#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x y/n#matt murdock x you#daredevil fic#daredevil#matt murdock fic#matt murdock fluff#daredevil fanfiction#matt murdock smut#dom!matt murdock#marvel smut#rough kink#never seeing the pearly gates#no plot
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Daddy Issues | Matt Murdock x Reader
Masterlist
Inspired by this song.
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader
Summary: There are some scars from our childhoods that just won't heal, like daddy issues will somehow always affect our relationships, especially with men. It's the trauma that makes us afraid. Matt Murdock is a considerate boyfriend and he hardly ever raises his voice, so when he lets his anger out on you, he triggers something in you that you have never told him about.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of child abuse, daddy issues (not the sexy kind), childhood trauma, yelling, crying, small injury (reader cuts her finger), not proofread
A/n: This is entirely self-indulgent. I won't tell you why exactly, but let's just say today was not a good day and I needed to write this to feel better. It helped, for the most part. If you have/had a father who yells a lot and likes to blame you for everything, this is for you. But also basically everyone who's afraid of men yelling at you because you've been traumatized before. This has not been proofread or beta-d. It’s just a silly little comfort fic.
Tags: (people who answered the original idea and I think would enjoy this or asked to be tagged)
@igotanidea @lina-mar @redzie02 @hellskitchens-whore
[not my gif, credits to the owner mentioned under the gif]
In the heat of the moment, some people raise their voices. May it be a fight or a moment of excitement. When we get angry, we often resort to a louder volume and sometimes even verbal abuse. We say things we don’t mean. We wouldn’t be human if that didn’t happen sometimes, although most fights can be resolved by talking civilly. There is no point in screaming when talking like adults is a viable option that won’t hurt anyone. But it hardly ever happens, not when both parties are already worked up to the point of no return.
For you, there has not been a fight or discussion in your life that hasn’t resulted in a screaming match. Your parents often yelled at each other. You grew up like this, the voices of your fighting parents constantly in the back of your head until the day they divorced. And even after that, you figure you started hallucinating their fights whenever the world went quiet around you so you would have some noise in the back of your head.
Your father was the one who screamed the most. He yelled and scolded you whenever you didn’t act according to his standards or made even the smallest of mistakes, didn’t do something or just used the wrong tone with him, something that often didn’t sit right with him.
He always resorted to screaming. The context never really mattered, he just got louder, harsher and he used words that would confuse every kid and make their tiny brains overflow with the guilt they caused. And when you cried, he only waved it off because “there is no reason to cry, I’m just stating the facts”.
It traumatized you in a way many children who grew up in such families understand, and he made you believe that every man in your life has a reason to yell at you, to use you, to abuse you and constantly ask you for things even though you can’t possibly match up to all of their expectations.
You always expect to be yelled at by the men in your life. Even the smallest hint of the disappointment in someone’s voice makes you anxious and more often than not, you start to cry. It’s your defense mechanism. You’re fragile and you get scared easily. A switch gets flicked and you’re suddenly standing in the same house you grew up in, letting your father rain hell down on you because you were too scared to fight back.
The constant screaming made you scared of men, and it made you more careful with what you say or do around others. You tread carefully. You try to please and not to screw up too much, too scared of the consequences and possible negative reactions. In school, you used to do the same, always wanting to please the teachers and when they raised their voices, you often excused yourself and were left shaking and crying in the bathroom.
Matt Murdock has always been a man with a heavy internal conflict, and that conflict resulted in anger issues and his ever-present catholic guilt. When you met him, he came across as attractive yet dominant, and that scared you a little until you talked for the first time in the middle of a cozy coffee shop and he showed how soft of a man he actually is. He keeps himself locked away and that might make him seem unapproachable, but he isn’t. He’s the kindest man you have ever met, and his heart is set right. Out of all the lovers you’ve had, he is truly the best and most considerate when it comes to your relationship.
He treats you like you’re the universe to him and when you fight, it’s more often bickering than it is an exchange of vulgarities and screams. He takes his anger out on punching bags, not you, and when he hurts someone, it’s often criminals who deserve his wrath. His life is complicated, but it’s easier with you in it. He feels alive, he’s told you, and he wouldn’t trade that for the world, so he always makes sure you’re taken care of and happy before he looks after himself.
There is, of course, the issue with his enhanced senses. He’s blind but his senses are enhanced to an extent that most blind people don’t have. You found out about that early on in your relationship, but there’s never been a doubt in your mind about the love you feel for him, so it was no hard choice to stay.
Though dating the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen comes with its collection of issues. More often than not you have to stitch him up or search him in dark alleys and trash cans because he keeps getting in trouble, and the worry often eats you alive. Still, you comfort him when he’s had a bad day, always, and you make him the spotlight of your life every time. In your mind, taking care of him comes first.
But Matt always gives back. It’s his Catholicism, you’re sure of that. He can’t take help. He has to be the one doing the work and moving mountains. He is God’s disciple and he feels responsible for his city and the people living in it. His blindness feels like a gift given to him by God to conquer all possible battles, and while you don’t really believe in God, you have accepted that part of him with open arms and more often than not join him in his faith because life with him is surely not the easiest.
When Matt Murdock feels overwhelmed, he tries not to show it. He’d rather lock himself away than burden you. He’d rather struggle on his own than put the people he loves in danger or hurt them with his personal struggles and the pain that consumes him.
Matt is patient and he doesn’t care if you screw up, even though you apologize profusely most of the time. He’s patient because we’re all human. We all screw up. That is the principle that he lives by and he makes you feel like you can be more of yourself around him. So after a year, there are no more reservations and you feel a lot more comfortable in your skin.
Until this day, he had never let his anger out on you, and he had never opened his mouth to yell at you in any way. Until that day.
He’s different when he comes home. He finds himself at his wit's end, and he has been ever since that godforsaken murder trial started. When he comes home, you don’t think much of his distance toward you, the denial of a proper kiss, and his grunts as he lowers himself on the couch instead of asking you about your day. You don’t think much until it all goes wrong, and you’re not even sure at what point it does or what you did to deserve this, but there has to be a reason because the man you’re seeing right now is not the Matt you usually get to see.
We all have bad days sometimes, others more often, but this seems deeper than just a bad day at the courthouse. This is not the face of an exhausted man after a long work day that just needs some kisses and maybe a blowjob, or to have sex with his girlfriend in all his dominant glory with aftercare to put the cherry on top. This is not Matt Murdock, this is the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen that comes through the front door, tosses his cane into a corner, and then just falls on the couch like a wet sack of potatoes, his fists clenched as if he is ready to explode any second.
You’ve been taught to tread carefully, so you do. You approach him only slowly because you are worried, you always are. Perhaps it’s the line of questioning that has him exploding in no time.
“You okay?” you ask.
He props his feet up on the living room table and huffs. “Fine,” he says.
“You don’t look fine. Did something happen?”
You’ve brought him a glass of water, which he takes with a curt nod. Something is bothering him, but he won’t talk to you.
“Bad day at work?”
“It doesn’t matter now. I’m fine. I just want to forget that today ever happened.”
“You want some coffee?” you decide to ask instead.
“No,” he says.
His leg starts to bounce. It only does when he is agitated or overstimulated and is trying to deal with the world around him.
“Do you want me to run you a bath?”
He sighs. “No.”
“We still have leftovers, maybe I could warm them up.”
His tone is harsher this time, “No!”
You blink, a little taken aback by the force in his voice and involuntarily, you start to shake.
“I just want to be alone,” he adds, softer this time. “Can you… you know what, I’m just gonna get changed.”
And like that, he is gone. He disappears into the bedroom and you’re left flabbergasted. You want to ask what’s wrong, but you’re scared. You’ve never been scared of him before. It’s not him, it’s his reaction, and so you retreat into the kitchen.
Eventually, he comes out again, though he is still missing a shirt. “Have you seen my Columbia sweater?” he asks, the lights of the billboard reflecting off his marble skin.
“It’s in the washer,” you tell him.
“Why?”
“Because it’s dirty. Matt, what is going on?” You place your mug down and look at him, eyes soft and full of concern.
He only rolls his. “I just want my sweater.” Grabbing the used shirt from the chair at the dinner table, he slips it on. It’s not the fabric he wanted and he tenses up, hating the new sensation already.
“Are you sure this is about your sweater? You’ve been on me ever since you got in.”
“Yes, because you keep asking useless questions.”
“Useless?” You scoff. “So my interest and worry for you are useless?”
If there is one thing you have gotten good at it has to be defending yourself.
He brushes past you to get a beer from the fridge. “I told you, I’m fine.” He is good at brushing you off because he doesn’t like to admit when he feels weaker than usual.
“You don’t look fine.”
“Oh, my God, then stop fucking looking!”
“Okay, what the hell is your problem?”
He scoffs. “You don’t get it.”
“What don’t I get?”
“Everything.”
“Enlighten me then.”
“It’s not…” his chuckle is bitter. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. You’re gonna keep seeing problems where there are none, so talking to you makes no sense anyway.”
What did he just say? You are so confused and suddenly very angry that you forget you are holding a glass. You smash it down on the counter, and, as expected, it shatters into a million pieces. Most of them fall to the floor and right at his bare feet. His eyes darken.
Oh.
Now you are scared, and not in a way that resembles sexy foreplay. You are scared because he is turning into a stranger right before your eyes. Suddenly, all you can see is not your loving boyfriend Matt Murdock, you see the anger of both your father and your stepfather in his eyes and hear it in his voice and it instantly tells you, 'this is all your fault'.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t see…”
“One night,” he says. He moves out of the kitchen, trying not to step into the glass.
You follow him with wide eyes. “What’s that?”
“One night,” he repeats his earlier statement. “That’s all I wanted. One fucking night where people don’t prod or- or want things from me. And what do you do? You keep talking and talking, and you don’t even care that I simply don’t want to talk.”
“Matt, that is not fair. I just wanted to-“ the tears start to prick in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Jesus Christ.” And that’s where your strength stops and you retreat into your shell – the next words out of his mouth come so loud, you could have sworn they echoed off the brick walls and shot straight into your eardrums. “For once in your life, stop fucking apologizing!”
His hand lifts, mostly to underline his words, and with the bottle in his hand he is suddenly so close, your eyes squeeze shut at the gush of wind. You flinch, your entire body caving in on itself. It’s not even intentional, you can’t help it. You’ve been conditioned to expect the worst when someone raises their hand, and Matt has never done it before.
He realizes what it looks like the second your heart jumps and your blood rushes loudly in his ear. He can smell your sweat, the tears, and the fear that surrounds you. It’s your pheromones that change and something lingers in the air that makes him stop and think, what did I just do?
He has been so in his head and the city has been loud for hours, he lost most of his patience at the courthouse, and then you’re there all caring and lovely and he can’t help but tell himself he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you. He just wants quiet and to be alone while at the same time, all he wants is you, but it’s too much. It’s all too much.
And now, as you flinch away from him and his booming voice, he snaps back to reality and realizes he made a mistake. He’s never experienced you like this before, and it scares him.
“Did you just…” he begins, his voice soft and barely above a whisper.
He hears you fall to your knees, the taste of salt thick in the air and your breath shakes with every intake. You bite your lip and you collect the shards, trying to clean up your mess as if he would hate you if you didn’t. You whisper a silent, “Sorry.” And then he hears it. You’re sobbing, you try not to but you are, and it is his fault.
“Did you think I was gonna hit you?” he asks, dreading the answer.
You sniffle, not answering.
You flinched, he heard it, and not because you were surprised. You are scared, he knows.
He slowly approaches the kitchen. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”
“I just gotta clean this up,” you whimper and you brush the glass together with shaky hands. The tears are running down your cheeks in thick streams and your teeth have gnawed your bottom lip bloody, your throat dry with the denied sobs.
“I just gotta clean this up and then I can make you dinner or something. I don’t… I can fix this. I’ll fix this. I’m sorry.”
It’s your fault, you tell yourself. You pushed him. You deserve this. He worked hard the entire day and you annoyed him. He has every right to do this. In your head, at least. It makes all sense in your head while in reality, Matt has never been more shocked to read your body language than he is now.
He slowly kneels in front of you. “Answer me this,” he says, “did you flinch because you thought I was gonna hit you or because I yelled?”
You shrug, unable to look at him. One of the shards slides across your finger and you hiss, the smallest cut forming and causing blood to pool out of your skin. Still, you don’t stop. You need to clean this up before he gets even angrier at you. In your state, you don’t realize his voice has softened and he no longer stares at you with those blacked-out eyes. He looks sympathetic, almost, but most of all the guilt has spread throughout his features and his heart. He is aching to touch you, but you are scared and shaking and he doesn’t want to hurt you any further than he already has.
He had been so ignorant that he didn’t see the signs before.
“Why are you crying?” he asks again.
You wipe your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. It’s my fault,” you say. “I’ll clean this up, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
“Hey.”
“No, I gotta-”
“Stop.” His hand is on your arm then. “You cut yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” it’s a mantra you’ve taught yourself to say in the hopes you could somehow fix this before it’s too late.
But it’s not too late. When you finally look up, he’s smiling softly, and his thumb is stroking over your skin in circles.
“I’m sorry,” it’s his turn to say it. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. None of this is your fault. I was so caught up in my own shit, I… God, I would never hit you. I just- I didn’t think when I raised my hand. I didn’t think what it might look like to you. And I didn’t think when I yelled because I… in my head, I wasn’t thinking.”
Your facade cracks even more to the point you are seethrough and your defenses have fallen completely. You’re a snotty mess, shaking violently in his grasp.
“I’m trying, I swear I’m trying to be better. Just don’t be angry with me,” your voice is bordering on helpless little sobs, your lips turned downward and God, you are shaking so badly, you haven’t done so since the last fight with your father when you were a teenager.
Matt’s face softens even more, but there is a pain in there too. He takes a paper towel to wrap around your injured finger and he holds your hand, not sure if he is allowed to touch anywhere else, but he wants you to know he is here and he is going nowhere. He is neither mad nor is he going to break up with you. You try to tell yourself that, but it’s hard with the demon in your head whispering all those awful things into your ear, reminding you that everything bad that happens can only be your fault and that there is no use for you but to destroy and disappoint. But you don’t want to disappoint, you want him to be proud of you. You want him to hold you and tell you everything is alright. But you’re scared and you feel so stupidly guilty for something you can’t even put a finger on. Your bleeding finger.
“Angry with you?” he says. “No.” Matt chuckles, but it’s broken and almost whiny as he does so. “I’m not angry at you, bug. Of course not. I was just angry with the world. I was angry at everything else, but not you. I’m not angry at you. I couldn’t possibly be. I’m sorry, it wasn’t fair of me to take it out on you. I realize that now. And the glass…” he forces you away from the chaos gently, helping you stand up without hurting yourself further. “It’s just glass,” he tells you. “I’ll clean it up. There’s nothing bad about breaking something.”
“But the mess,” you say.
“Fuck the mess. The whole apartment’s a mess.”
“I’m so sorry! I can clean it. I can clean up, I promise. I just… I’m so sorry, Matt.”
“Stop apologizing, baby, please. The mess doesn’t matter. The apartment doesn’t matter, and the glass does not fucking matter. None of this is your fault. You didn’t do anything but try to help. I had no right to yell at you. And my hand… I would never hit you. Never.” He squeezes your hand. “I love you.”
You hiccup, whimpering when he pulls you away from the glass on the floor and pulls you into his arms. His chin rests on the crown of your head and you mold into him, the tears taking on new speed and wetting through his shirt. He strokes your back, not sure what else to do, and his lips find your temple. “God, I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that, none of that.”
You cling tighter to him.
He keeps asking himself the same question over and over again. “Who hurt you?” he asks. It’s a valid question. A fear like that doesn’t just stem from nothing. Something happened in the past to have traumatized you this badly.
Your breathing eventually slows down, as do your tears, and you look up at him through swollen eyes. His white shirt is wet now, but he doesn’t care, he only hugs you back to his chest. “My father used to yell at me whenever I did something wrong,” you tell him, your voice muffled through his chest, but he understands every word.
His grip tightens. “Did he hit you?”
“Sometimes, but… I remember that one time I forgot to clean up after myself and he just… he…” The lack of oxygen makes you shudder and you hiccup again, nails digging into his back. “I’m sorry, he just… yelled at me. Sometimes, he’d slap me, but only sometimes. He’d threaten most of the time, but he didn’t do it often. And I mean, I was a hard kid to raise, I-“
“No, don’t blame yourself,” he is quick to cut you off. “You were a kid.”
You shudder again. “Well, I… you know, he blamed me for the smallest of things, so I got used to apologizing and trying to please everyone, but I can’t always do that. I try to fix things, but it doesn’t always work. He used to yell at me every damn time and I just… I get scared. I don’t like it when people raise their voices. It makes me feel so guilty and now I even broke a glass. That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have… you had a bad day, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry like this. I swear I’m not a baby.”
You move away to rub your eyes. He grabs your face, smoothing the pads of his thumbs over your wet cheeks. The heat has pooled under the skin in an upset blush.
“Don’t apologize,” he says. “It’s okay to cry. If I’d known, baby, I…” Matt can only shake his head in disbelief.
He loves you more than anything and to see you hurting because of something another man did to you, a man who is supposed to protect you, makes him feel all kinds of things, but none of them positive.
But his anger doesn’t matter. This is about you. He has to take care of you now, not himself, and definitely not your father. It’s just you on his mind.
You choke on nothing. “He told me I have no reason to cry because he’s just stating facts.”
Matt clicks his tongue. “No, don’t ever think that again. You have every right to cry when you feel the need to.”
“It makes me weak,” you say.
“Your father’s wrong. You’re the strongest person I know,” he says. “And the fact that he yelled at you and blamed you for things that were out of your control… no one has the right to treat you like that, not even your parents, and he should have never even thought about raising his hand against you. That’s abuse. I can’t believe- fuck! Do you understand that it wasn’t your fault? That he had no right to do that?”
“Yes, but… it happened. Maybe I deserved some of those slaps. I mean you… I- I don’t know. It happened, we can’t change it. And who knows, maybe he was right.”
“Stop it! That’s not true and you know it.”
“I know, but-“
“No buts, sweetheart. I would never raise my hand against you, I promise. I’m not like your father. No one should be like him. You deserve so much better.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” you sniffle, “it was just instinct.”
“Shh,” Matt kisses you gently, “I know. It’s like me dodging punches in a fight. It’s a defense mechanism. Your father, I… you’ve never said anything. I would’ve never suspected this.”
“‘Cause I didn’t think it was important. This never happened before. You never yelled before.”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. You should have told me,” he says. “It’s important to me. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you. I want you to feel comfortable around me, not scared.”
You nod. “And I am, really, it’s just… I thought I did something wrong.”
His smile is soft when he leans in to kiss you again, tasting the tears on your lips. “You didn’t. I let my anger out on you for no reason. You didn’t deserve that. It won’t happen again, I promise,” and he dives right back in.
You wrap your arms around his neck, relaxing in his arms as his lips move against yours with sweet precision, making you feel lightheaded. He scared you, that much is true, but it was neither you nor his fault and you realize that now, safe in his arms as he proves his devotion to you with a single breath into your mouth. With his gentle touch around your waist he promises never to hurt you, never to let his anger out on you again, and he promises that he will drive himself to hell personally if he ever scares you like that again because he couldn’t forgive himself if anything happened to you because of him. He couldn’t live with himself if he broke your heart or triggered the trauma you brought into the relationship from your broken childhood, and he promises that he will never leave you, never put you second and always hold you when times get hard because people screw up, bad things happen, and you might be at fault sometimes, but so is he and there is no reason to be put down for being human. He wants to teach you that, he wants to help you heal yourself, and you have never felt more in love than at that moment, losing yourself in his lips, eyes and arms.
He breaks the kiss, moving on to your forehead. “If there is anything else I need to know,” he breathes hotly against your already heated skin, and the exhaustion slowly starts to seep into your bones as the shakes and tension subside from your bones, “please tell me before I make another mistake that might trigger you.”
You take in a deep breath, shaking your head. “There is not much else. My childhood wasn’t the best, but that’s okay,” you say.
He brushes his knuckles over your cheekbone. “Bad enough. Promise you’ll tell me if something else might come up?” He resembles a puppy as he tries to meet your eyes, but he fails miserably.
So you promise him, “Okay.”
“Can you forgive me for yelling?”
Your tears have finally come to a halt. “Yes,” you say.
“Thank you.”
Your eyes fall on the mess on the kitchen floor again and you go to grab the broom. Matt’s arm around your frame stop you and he gently pushes you out of the kitchen. “Let me clean it up,” he says. “Put a bandaid on your finger and then go lie down. I’ll deal with it.”
“No, I broke it. Please, Matt, let me do this.”
“Not everything is your fault, sweetheart. Besides, you already cut yourself once and with how you’re shaking, the next time you accidentally cut yourself I’m sure you’re gonna cause more damage.”
“But I-”
“Go to bed,” he insists, “I’ll be there in a second and then we’ll cuddle so you know I’m serious when I say that I love you more than life itself.”
The weight and guilt fall off your heart. “I love you,” you tell him. “More than life itself, too.”
It’s not a lie. If there is anything or anyone you love, it’s him, and you’ve never been this in love with anyone before. It’s sickening to the point it hurts, but the pain is sweet and it’s all worth it because with Matt, you can be yourself.
The past matters just a little less with someone who loves you right by your side, and he would never give up on you like everyone else did before him.
#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock#daredevil#daredevil x reader#gender neutral reader#matt murdock imagines#marvel#matt murdock fluff#matt murdock angst#mentions of child abuse#hurt/comfort#matt murdock fic#daredevil fic#daddy issues (but not the sexy kind)
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Court baby i've waiting for this moment! I have this idea for a fic living rent free in my head. Its Frank x fem!reader. They were in a very cozy and confy moment when the snap happened and reader was blipped! You could write how Frank deald with those five years and with reader coming back. With a lot of angst moments and flufly and maybe spicy after she comes back. I would love if you accept this request! Thank you, I love you ❤️
i'm not gonna lie to you, the blip is my least favorite marvel storyline, but I love you so I put myself and frank through it just for you 🖤
I would say sorry that i'm about to emotionally wreck you but in my defense, you did ask for this so...enjoy or don't
warning: swearing, mentions of blood, violence, guns, & alcohol, heavy angst, very brief allusion to suicide (blink and you miss it)
word count: 4.1k
the blip.
A split second. That’s how quickly Frank lost you. He turned his back for a second to refill his mug of coffee, and when he turned back around, you had vanished seemingly into thin air. At first he thought maybe you had gone back into the bedroom to grab a sweater or something. It had been a bit chilly in the kitchen, and you were always cold. But then a few seconds turned into a few minutes, and Frank didn’t hear any shuffling or soft footsteps. He didn’t hear anything at all. The crisp silence had an icy sense of dread trickling down his spine, and when he didn’t hear your sweet voice responding to his cautious calls of your name, he went into a full blown panic.
You were gone.
Year One.
This wasn’t happening again. It couldn’t be. There was no way he had survived losing Maria and the kids just to find you, to let your endless patience and irrevocable empathy fill the gaping void in his chest, only to lose you too. It had to be some kind of cruel joke. Frank didn’t consider himself a good man; he was well aware of and acquainted with his demons. But he didn’t deserve this.
Did he?
It was forty-eight hours before anyone even knew what happened. One giant asshole snapped his fingers, and half the universe’s population ceased to exist. Frank had stopped believing in God a lifetime ago, and he certainly didn’t believe in aliens or otherworldly creatures. He had seen first hand during his time in the Marines that mankind was the real monster. But it didn’t matter that he didn’t believe in it, because it happened, and not even the fucking Avengers could stop it. Hell, half of them were gone too.
Two weeks after the snap, news broke that Thanos had been killed, and that the Infinity Stones were destroyed, but the remaining members of the Avengers were trying to come up with a way to bring everyone back. For months Frank was glued to every news outlet, frantically waiting for even the smallest of updates. Anything was something. He refused to believe that the snap was permanent. The Avengers were going to find a way to bring everyone back. They had to.
Your pillowcase had stopped smelling like your shampoo, and Frank found himself using it and your body wash just to keep your scent on the sheets. He burned your favorite candles and read your favorite books. He wouldn’t stay gone longer than fifteen minutes in case you finally came home. He wanted to be there when you did. Frank kept himself busy with little projects around the house, things that you had mentioned changing or updating that he had promised he would get around to and never did. Frank swore to himself when you came home, things would be different.
He would take that trip you wanted to go on. He’d take you to the shelter to pick out a dog like you had been talking about. Maybe you two would finally start a family. Whatever you wanted, he’d give you. He’d find a way to give you the goddamn moon and every single star in the sky if you wanted them.
As soon as you came home.
But then a year went by, and nothing had changed. The anniversary of the snap came and went, and everyone seemed to give up hope on bringing everyone back, or they just decided to move on and accept that no one was coming back.
But Frank couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. He refused to believe you were really gone.
Year Two.
The worst part about the snap was that Frank couldn’t collect his vengeance in blood like he had with his family. The one who took you from him was already dead, and even if he hadn’t been, Frank had no way of reaching him. Thanos was a Titan, someone who was revered as a God to those that followed him, and Frank was just a man. A man poisoned with rage and an insatiable thirst for revenge. So, he did what he was good at. He punished. Even though half the universe’s population was gone, that didn’t mean there weren’t still monsters left on Earth.
Frank killed without mercy or prejudice. There was no sin too harmless for his wrath. His fists collided with skin and bone until there was nothing left but ivory fragments tainted crimson and torn flesh. He didn’t stop, not even when his destructive blows caused his own knuckles to crack. It had gotten to the point where he hardly reached for a gun anymore unless he absolutely had to. He preferred to use his hands or serrated steel. He wanted to inflict every ounce of pain that he felt inside on whoever was stupid enough to get in his way.
It was like he wasn’t even mentally present anymore. His conscience had been shut off somehow, and all that was left was a relentless killing machine. Whenever he ran out of targets in the city, he moved on to hunt in the next one, and the next one, and the next one. He lived primarily out of his van, or whatever dingy motel he came across on the road. He hadn’t stepped foot in your home in almost a year. He couldn’t. It was haunted by your memory, and he couldn’t desecrate the home you two had made together with what he had become.
You would be ashamed of him. You would be disgusted and horrified by the things he had done. That thought echoed in his head as he watched the water continue to run red while he stood under the weak spray of the shower head. He didn’t know what town or even what state he was in. He didn’t know what day of the week it was, or what month it was. He didn’t care. All he knew was that you were gone, and he had nothing left.
Nothing left but the white hot fury that infected his veins and had him seeking out blood like water in the desert.
Year Three.
Frank couldn’t visit you, not like he could Maria and the kids. He couldn’t even have the closure of burying you, because there wasn’t a body. There was no final resting place for you, and he didn’t think that was fucking fair. Today was your birthday, and Frank had been drowning himself in whiskey trying to dilute the painful memories that played in his head like a haunting home movie.
The angelic sound of your voice as you read him whatever book your nose was buried in that week, your fingers slipping through his dark tresses while he laid his head on your chest and listened in pure content. The feeling of your soft lips on his heated skin and delicate noises of pleasure as your bodies connected like they were made for each other. Your melodic laughter, the silkiness of your skin, slow dancing in the living room with the moon acting as a spotlight.
All the words he never said. All the promises he didn’t get to keep. All the dreams that wouldn’t come true.
Somehow Frank found himself in a church. He couldn’t remember the last time he stepped foot in one. Maybe it was Sunday school back when his parents still forced him to go. He had stumbled in, his heavy boots thudding along the aisle, the only other sound coming from the amber liquid sloshing around in the half empty bottle in his hand. He stopped when he got to the front, looking up at the stained glass depictions of angels, until his weary eyes landed on the savior that was nailed to the giant cross.
Frank glared at him for several minutes before hurling the half empty bottle right at the head of the statue, causing a firework explosion of shimmering shards of glass to rain over the altar and various candles that had been lit for loved ones that had passed on. His rough voice boomed throughout the empty space.
“You son of a bitch! Why didn’t you take me, huh? Why not me? She ain’t never done a goddamn thing wrong. I’m the one you want. I’m the one that deserves it. I’m the goddamn killer here, huh? I’m the fuckin’ Punisher. So you bring her back, and you take me!”
Frank started grabbing bibles from the pews and hurling them at the statue with all his strength. In his inebriated state, some of them flew right past the statue and knocked over other small figurines and candlesticks. He let out a guttural war cry every time he threw a new one, and by the time he ran out of steam, he was panting heavily, and tears had formed in his eyes.
Dropping to his knees, he looked up at the melancholic face of the statue that matched his own, and he did something he hadn’t done in years.
He prayed.
“Please. Please, just bring her back. I’ll take her place…I won’t fight…just…just bring her back. I’m beggin’ you…I’ll do whatever it takes, alright? Just…you can’t…you can’t do this to me again. You can’t. I may deserve it, but she don’t…okay so just…just…”
Frank was tired. Three years without you was too long. He hadn’t been able to find the peace that he had found after Maria and the kids. He spent a year waging war on everyone, and it did nothing. He spent the last few months drowning himself in booze, and it didn’t help. Nothing helped, and there was nothing to keep him going. You were gone, and you weren’t coming back, so what the hell was he still getting out of bed every morning for?
Reaching into the pocket of his coat, Frank pulled out a revolver and stared down at it. There was only one bullet in the chamber, and it wasn’t meant for anyone but him. If God wouldn’t bring you back, then he would go to you.
As soon as he cocked the hammer, a familiar voice sounded behind him.
“You don’t wanna do that, Frank.”
Turning his head to look over his shoulder, Frank squinted his blurry eyes before turning back around, shaking his head with a dry laugh.
“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. Half the goddamn universe gets wiped out, and I get stuck with the fuckin’ altar boy.”
“Frank-”
“Mind your fuckin’ business, Red. Just cause there’s only one bullet in this chamber don’t mean I won’t handle your ass.”
Matt let out a deep exhale through his nose as he took a few cautious steps towards where Frank was on his knees in front of the altar.
“You’re drunk-”
“And you’re fuckin’ relentless. Go home.”
“Look, whoever you lost-”
“Whoever I lost? I lost everyone, Red!”
Matt didn’t flinch when Frank suddenly rose from his knees and stormed over towards him, his loud voice booming in the silence as they stood barely an inch apart. Matt cocked his head to the side slightly, his lips pursed as he grit his teeth.
“You think you’re the only one that’s lost everyone you’ve ever cared about, Frank?”
“Then what the hell are you waitin’ on, huh? You too much of a fuckin’ pussy to do it yourself, huh? That it? You need me to do it for you?”
Matt carefully reached out to place his hand on Frank’s arm, lowering the gun that was in his hand while he spoke in a calm voice.
“I don’t want to die, Frank. And I don’t think you want to either. You just want the pain to stop. But if you do this, it’s permanent, and you’ll never know if she came back.”
Frank shook his head and blew a puff of hot air out of his lips, his dark brows scrunching up in pure annoyance and frustration.
“She ain’t comin’ back-”
“You don’t know that. She’s not dead, Frank. She’s lost. Maybe she’s with Karen and Foggy. Frank, someone came down from another planet and wiped out half the universe. Is it so crazy to think that could be undone?”
The anger that was simmering inside Frank from Matt’s intrusion seemed to be burning through the alcohol in his system, and Matt’s question was igniting a tiny ember of hope that Frank wasn’t prepared to tend to. His body physically deflated as he dropped his head between his broad shoulders. There was a heavy tide of tears on his bottom lash line threatening to flood at any moment.
“Don’t do that.”
“You have to have faith, Frank-“
“I don’t, Red.”
“I do.”
Frank didn’t know when Matt managed to slip the revolver from his grasp, but he didn’t feel the weight of a permanent decision in his palm anymore. Matt had planted a tiny seed of hope, and what if’s were taking over Frank’s brain like wild ivy.
What if there was a chance you could come back? Matt had a point, you weren’t dead. Not really. Even if the probability of it happening was one in a million, didn’t Frank owe you the same unwavering patience you had always shown him?
“Look Frank, just…give me a year. One year to show you things can be different. If you still want to make that call in a year, I won’t stop you. I’ll leave you alone. But Frank…you’ve gotten through this once before. You can do this again. If not for yourself, just try for her.”
A year. A year was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Frank had already been without you for three years now.
What was one more?
Year Four.
Matt’s apartment was fucking obnoxious due to that goddamn billboard across the street, but it was better than the shitty motels Frank had been staying in. He still couldn’t step foot in the home he had shared with you. It had been three years now, and even though he wasn’t fully convinced you could come back, he couldn’t let it go. Everything that was you was there, and if he sold the house, that meant every trace of you and your existence was gone.
Matt had one rule for Frank staying with him; no killing. For a week, Frank lounged on the couch trying to figure out what to do with himself. He would start to read a book, but could never get more than a few pages because he remembered how much you loved to read, and then he would get stuck staring at the pages while memories of you played on loop in his head. There wasn’t a TV because Matt didn’t have use for one, and Frank didn’t care to watch anything anyway. It didn’t take long for Frank to go stir crazy. He had never been good at staying idle.
While Matt was out making the world a better place, Frank had managed to find a construction job. Busting down walls all day long allowed him to get his pent up anger out while not breaking Matt’s golden rule. Most days it felt like Frank was on autopilot. He woke up, went to the job site, smashed a sledgehammer through a wall until his hands bled, came home, tried to sleep, inevitably had a nightmare about losing you, and laid on the couch staring blankly up at the ceiling until the sun rose.
Every single day was a repeat of the last until they started to blur together. Frank didn’t speak to anyone at the job sites. He didn’t speak to anyone at all. Between Matt’s busy court schedule and his nightly patrols, they didn’t see each other often, and even when they were home at the same time, Frank still hardly spoke to him. He wasn’t sleeping, he barely ate, and on the days he had off, he didn’t leave the couch. He felt like a hollow shell of the man he used to be.
Matt knew what he was going through. Hell, he had been there himself after the second time he lost Elektra. He knew what it felt like to lose the person you loved most in this world, and that had happened to Frank twice now. He did his best to be patient, but after four months, he couldn’t take it anymore. Matt was fortunate that he’d had people that helped him combat his depression to find his way back to himself, but Frank didn’t have a soul in his corner.
Except for Matt.
And even though Frank wasn’t shy about not wanting Matt’s help, Matt didn’t care. Frank could be stubborn, but he didn’t have the energy or the drive to match Matt’s stubbornness, and Matt used that to his advantage. He was relentless in pushing Frank to participate in life again. He purposely antagonized Frank, even if it meant being reduced to a human punching bag, because that meant Frank was still in there somewhere.
Matt started small in getting him out of the apartment, like guilt tripping Frank into joining him on trips to the grocery store.
“You’re not gonna help your blind roommate get groceries? You know, a lot of items don’t come with braille labels. So when I die because I accidentally put bleach in my coffee instead of creamer, you have to say nice things about me at my funeral.”
“You don’t need labels, Red. You got that goddamn bloodhound nose. Would you stop lookin’ at me like that? Jesus fuckin’ Christ, fine. Get your fuckin’ jacket and let’s go.”
After a while, he even managed to get Frank to join him at Fogwell’s from time to time.
“No wonder you became a goddamn lawyer. All you know how to do is fuckin’ argue, makes sense you made a livin’ outta it.”
“I’m not arguing, Frank. If we got in the ring, you would lose. That’s a fact. You don’t know how to box, you just know how to run at people and slam them into things. And you’re too bulky to move as fast as me. None of that is an argument, it’s a simple observation.”
“Why don’t you observe your ass in that ring so I can shut you the fuck up, Red.”
The more time they spent together, and the more Frank put in an effort to move forward one step at a time, the less empty he felt. The nightmares still came every so often, and there were days where the weight of your absence was too much for him to bear, but for the first time in four years, he didn’t feel so hopeless.
He could think about you without breaking down. He could see something that reminded him of you, and it warmed his heart instead of ripping it out. He had finally reached a point where he had slowly crawled out of the deep pit of grief that he had been digging for the past four years.
As much as he hated to admit it, Matt had helped him find a semblance of peace.
Year Five.
The sound of a dog barking caught Frank’s attention. He pulled his head out from under the hood of his truck, looking over at the grey and white pitbull that was standing a few feet away from the front door of the house you and Frank had lived in together that he’d finally moved back into six months ago. He glanced between the front door and the dog with his thick brows furrowed.
“What is it, Daisy?”
The dog turned her head when she heard Frank’s voice, the movement so fast it made her long velvet ears flop. She turned her attention back to the door and continued to bark. Something inside had caught her attention. Eyeing the front door warily, Frank rubbed his grease stained hands off on a small rag and walked over towards where Daisy was, kneeling down beside her to gently scratch that spot between her ears that she loved.
“Hey, shh shh shh. C’mon now, what’s got you so worked up, huh? What do you think is inside, huh? You smellin’ that-”
The sound of the front door opening caught Frank’s attention, and he instantly snapped his head in the direction of it. All of a sudden, his warm brown eyes went wide, and time seemed to freeze in that very moment.
“Sweetheart?”
His quiet whisper was dripped in disbelief. There you were, looking exactly the same as the day you had vanished, looking between Frank and Daisy with an expression of surprise and perplexment.
“Frank?”
God, your voice. It had been five years since he had last heard it. That was all the confirmation he needed that this was real. You were real. You were really home.
Without wasting a second, Frank stood and ran over towards you, tears filling up his eyes as he wrapped his arms around your frame and hugged you as tightly as physically possible. His heart was thrashing against his ribcage, and he was terrified this was just a vivid dream, but then he inhaled the scent of your shampoo intermingled with your perfume, felt your hands gently pressing against his back, and heard your soft angelic laughter.
“Frankie…baby…you’re crushing me.”
Frank pulled back only slightly, bringing his large hands up to cup your face to study your features, taking in every single inch of you. He caught the way you frowned softly, looking up at him in pure concern when thick tears streamed down his cheeks. You lifted your hand to delicately brush them away with the featherlight touch of your fingers.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“You’re really here.”
“Of course I’m here. Where else would I be? Baby, why are you so upset?”
As you ran your hands through his long grown out curls, a crease of bewilderment nestled in between your brows when you took in his appearance.
“Wait…what happened to your hair? It was just short five seconds ago…and you didn’t have a beard. How…how did you do that? And when did we get a dog? Frank, what-”
Five seconds ago.
Is that all it was for you? Frank could see the visible disorientation on your delicate features, and he had a lot of questions of his own, but right now nothing mattered but you. He leaned in and captured your lips in a deep kiss, pouring every emotion he had felt in the past five years into it. He kissed you like the world could end at any moment, because for him it did the day you vanished.
When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours and let out a deep exhale of relief.
“You…you were gone, sweetheart. You were gone a long time…a long goddamn time.”
“Gone? What-”
“I’ll explain everythin’, I promise. Just…just give me a minute, please. Just let me hold you for a minute, can you do that for me, baby? Please?”
Frank had always been able to read you like a book, and he could tell by the look in your eyes that you weren’t just confused. Hearing you had been gone for a long time infused you with a sense of panic and uncertainty. But you trusted Frank, and you knew whatever hard truth he was going to tell you, he wouldn’t let you go through it alone.
“Okay.”
As Frank embraced you again, you suddenly felt a pair of paws on your back. Glancing over your shoulder, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the happy dog wagging its tail while looking between you and Frank. Reaching down, you gently pet the side of her face with a soft smile.
“Hi there, precious.”
“Daisy.”
Glancing up at Frank, your lips parted slightly when Frank told you her name. A soft smile covered his lips, the first smile to do so in five years. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear slowly.
“You always said if we got a dog and it was a girl, you wanted to name her Daisy.”
Tears welled up along your bottom lash line as you looked up at Frank, a gentle smile covering your lips. After a moment, you glanced away from Frank to look at Daisy again, letting out a soft laugh.
“I’ve waited a long time to meet you, Daisy.”
Frank gave your waist a light squeeze, leaning in to press a soft lingering kiss to your cheek.
“And we’ve been waitin’ a long time for you. Welcome home, sweetheart.”
tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @kdogreads @heimtathurs @mars-rants-a-lot @casa-boiardi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @hazallem @avencol @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @Vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts
#frank castle#frank castle x you#frank castle x y/n#frank castle x reader#frank castle x female reader#frank castle x fem!reader#frank castle x f!reader#frank castle request#frank castle fic#the punisher#the punisher request#the punisher fic#matt murdock#daredevil
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