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allllium · 3 months

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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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cowgurrrl · 8 months

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What's In A Name?

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

Author’s note: hey remember when I said I was rewatching daredevil

Summary: You settle on a new nickname for Matthew [1.3k]

Warnings: fluff, lawyer talk, brief mention of Jack, Daredevil things, June’s first time writing Matt so pls be nice, I think that’s it??

He's realized it changes depending on the day. You refer to him in court as your colleague, Mr. Murdock, or even Counselor. You call him Murdock to get his attention or scold him for something. That Idiot in The Mask before you find out about his nightly escapades. That Idiot in The Mask after you find out about his nightly escapades. But more often than not, when he climbs into bed after a long night of being That Idiot, your eyes flutter open, and you murmur a soft "Matthew" before snuggling into him.

Foggy and Karen make fun of you for using his full name more often than Matt, which is undeniably faster and punchier. Every once in a while, you'll pull Franklin out to make Foggy cringe and accuse you of sounding like his mother. Their teasing does nothing to stop you from calling him Matthew. It's the name in your phone, the name you punch in braille in his birthday cards, the name you use to introduce him to others, everything.

It also helps to conceal the specifics of your relationship from other lawyers who may get nosy and try to use your relationship against you in a court of law. What girlfriend wouldn't call her boyfriend by a nickname? The kind of girlfriend who went through seven years of school and refuses to have her JD called into question just because she went into practice with her boyfriend and best friends.

The good thing is he doesn't seem to mind you calling him Matthew. It's very rare that the name doesn't grate on his ears, but when it falls from your lips, it's warm and welcome like the first sunny day after a harsh New York winter. The question, however, comes on a chilly October evening while sitting with socked feet on the couch and working through closing statements.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you have heard many pieces of information throughout the past few weeks. Many of them circumstantial," you read to him as you scribble the notes on a yellow legal pad. His hand is resting on your thigh, tracing patterns into your soft leggings, and cocks his head in your direction to show you he's listening. "However, you have also heard from my client-"

"Our client." Matt interrupts, and you look up at him. His tinted glasses are resting on the coffee table amid scattered case notes and copies of evidence, and his brown eyes are cast vaguely in your direction. When you first started dating, he told you people were uncomfortable with his bouncing, unfocusing eyes, and that's why he hadn't taken off his glasses in front of you. Since then, it's been a steady journey of reassuring him how much you love him, love all of him. The fact that all these years later, he's sitting without shame and without his glasses is enough to make your heart soar.

"Is O'Reilly also the jury's client?"

"No, but there are multiple defense attorneys on this case."

"Okay, so what if I gesture to you when I say it?" You ask, and the corner of Matt's mouth quirks up.

"'M sure that'll look very professional, sweetheart." He says, amusement in his tone, and you roll your eyes as you look back down at the paper.

"I'm just gonna say 'my client.'"

"Fine, but I'm telling Foggy."

"Oh, c'mon, we both know you've claimed clients and cases as your own. It's not a big deal."

"I have not!"

"I will pull court transcripts right now."

"Maybe I should be the one to give closing statements." He teases and tries to reach for your papers. You rip them out of his reach and drop them on the floor when he tickles your sides. You laugh and try to fight against his strong hands, but he grabs both your wrists in one hand and tickles you with the other.

"Okay, okay, that's enough." You beg between breathless giggles, and his merciless attack on your stomach stops as fast as it started. The apartment falls silent as he lays half on top of you with your legs bracketing his sides. His hair is soft and a little too long, flopping over his forehead and hiding a yellowing bruise, and his full lips are pulled into a perfect smile that you can't help but kiss. He hums against your lips and releases your wrists, letting your hands graze his waist, narrowly avoiding sore ribs. You feel a full breath fill his lungs before he pulls away and rests his forehead on yours.

"We're never gonna finish closing statements like this." He mumbles, his voice raspy, and you shrug.

"Prosecution barely has a case. We'll be fine," you say as you scratch his back. "Besides, I always make closing statements my bitch."

"Can't argue with that." He laughs, and you hum in agreement. It's getting late. The sights and sounds of the city have dimmed just enough to tell you that people have made it home from their work days, settling into dinner and bedtime routines with their families. A certain red suit hidden in the closet pricks at the forefront of your mind, and you take a deep breath.

You knew what you signed up for when you met Matt in your legal history class during your second year at Columbia. You'd had several long-winded conversations with him about defending the working man, upholding the law, and the importance of order in a chaotic world. You knew dating him also meant sharing him with his job, no matter what it was. Still, you never expected his part-time job to be beating up criminals in dark alleys after you went to bed.

"Wanna order Thai from that place down the block and keep working, or do you need to go?" You ask, and he shakes his head.

"'M good."

"You sure?"

"I like working with you." He says sincerely, and a ball of light shines in your chest. You have to fight the smile threatening the corner of your mouth, and you know he can feel it.

"Are you just saying that cause you want me to change my wording?" You ask, and he laughs. He ducks his head to kiss your jaw before straightening back up, not letting himself get too distracted by the taste of your skin.

"No, I'm saying that because I love hearing you make closing statements your bitch."

"Good answer, Matthew." You tap his side, and he kisses you again before sitting back to let you get up and retrieve your phone from the counter. You type in the restaurant's name, your mouth watering at the thought of Pad Thai, and walk over to the back of the couch. Matt leans into you the second you're close enough, and even though you don't have super senses like him, you know he's thinking hard about something.

"You know you may be the only person in the world who calls me Matthew on a regular basis?" He asks out of the blue, and you look up from your phone. His hand finds its way to your waist and tugs you closer until your hips are flush against the couch. You indulge in his sudden neediness by running your free hand through his hair.

"What'd your dad call you?" You ask quietly. A soft chuckle escapes him, and he tilts his head at you.

"Matty."

"Matty," you try to nickname on your tongue and smile. "Gotta give it to Battlin' Jack, that's a pretty good one."

"I'm sure he'd agree with you." He says, the gentle ache of grief settling over the space. You lean down and kiss his head in reverence, like you're thanking him for sharing the memory with you. The feeling dissolves once you get back into closing statements and arguing about wording over steaming piles of food, but the name sticks in your brain. His contact name in your phone goes from Matthew to Matty. You let yourself call him Matty a handful of times to test it out, and somehow, the transition between names doesn't faze either of you. It feels good, intimate almost. Something just for the two of you.

Hell's Kitchen can have Daredevil all they want as long as Matty is the one coming home to you.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fic #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock blurb #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil x reader

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madschiavelique · 4 months

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˖𓍯. 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐬. ★. ₊ ⭑

⟢﹒ pairing : matt murdock x audhd!reader x frank castle

⟢﹒ summary : your family is an ordeal to endure, full of disparaging remarks that make for a horrible evening. fortunately, Matt and Frank come to keep you company during the family diner and take you home to look after you.

⟢﹒ content warnings : hurt/comfort, extremely self-indulgent, reader's family are degrading, audhd reader close to breaking down, reader having sensory issues, reader getting overstimulated, the guys in this are so lovable and sweet boyfriends, afab!reader, no use of Y/N

⟢﹒ word count : 9,3k

⟢﹒ note : had quite a shitty christmas ngl, so i thought writing this piece of comfort would be helpful ! if you only want to read the comfort part, i'll place a separation by using a black divider between the hurt and comfort part. a huge thank you to my bestie @sunflowersandsapphires who proofread this <3. have a good read lovelies!

You passed a q-tip close to your eyes in the hope of correcting the curve of your make-up, trying with that scatterbrained perfectionism that accompanied you in even the most minute tasks to ensure that everything was symmetrical.

Nothing too extravagant, just something elegant, neutral, but that would do. The standard was just to look presentable, from the face to the rest of the body. Jeans, an oversized hoodie, nothing special.

This lack of personal distinction was undoubtedly due to the rejection of perception, the insistent stares, the embarrassing compliments that could suddenly put you in the spotlight tonight, an idea that made you feel profoundly uneasy.

You stepped back a little, checking to see if the much-desired symmetry had been achieved, and no sooner had you put down your utensil than you were asked to do the little cousins' make-up.

Tonight was an annual family reunion: Christmas, where aunts, uncles, grandparents and grandchildren got together over foie gras, salmon and dubious discussions. Where guests who have just left are criticised, where disparaging remarks are exchanged, and where the meal always ends up drifting into politics with more or less heated debates at the table.

You anticipated the evening, an anxious knot already forming in your stomach. You had a particular link with your family, of which the affection was strangely displayed if at all in a way you despised entirely. Every year was a different pain, a different bitter taste that lingered in your thoughts like poison, and you were not delighted to participate in this celebration when you would’ve preferred staying home.

Only one thing held you in place and convinced you that the night wouldn't be a constant and unrelenting hell: Matt and Frank were coming over.

This winter, it was the first time you would’ve been accompanied by them, and by anyone in fact. Knowing the rather strong opinions of your family, the simple idea of saying that you shared your life with two men in a more than platonic way had been dismissed a long time ago. A trouple? If that fell in the ears of one of your family members, you could be sure that you'd become the next freak of the night.

So you talked it over with the boys and came up with a plan to make sure you could bring them both along and not make a big deal of it: one of them would pretend to be your boyfriend, while the other would just be your friend that had nothing better to do for the celebration.

The choice of boyfriend fell on Frank, and friend on Matt.

He had asked why, and you had explained that it was obviously in no way because of favouritism or anything of the sort, but rather the simple fact that he would get more compliments behind his back if he wasn't with you than if he was.

He'd frowned, but you'd had to explain to them how your family was sometimes built on clusters of shrill gossip, talking behind others' backs and later making remarks to their faces in tones of passive aggressiveness and wicked irony.

You also had to educate them, that no matter what was said about you tonight, not to react. They'd probably be itching to, it would be like a thread sticking out, but they were forbidden to pull on it.

You looked at the clock, seven past. You'd texted Frank to ask where they were and when they'd arrive. Eight thirty had been their reply, and you took a deep breath. An hour and a half to go.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, assuring yourself everything was alright and that you were presentable enough. You can do it, you kept telling yourself, this night knows an end.

The first complications arose sooner than you thought.

First of all, you'd managed to find a decent seat in an armchair and not on a sofa. However, this seat was very close to the fireplace, where a blazing fire licked the brown logs with appetite. Very close, too close, close enough that it felt suffocating.

You moved your chair back slightly as best you could, trying not to disturb the conversation that was already well underway.

You tried to take a few snacks, perhaps some cashews, crackers or cherry tomatoes might ease your boredom and distract you from the growing heat.

You pulled out your phone, hoping that Frank and Matt would get here sooner, and would've sent a message to that effect. Or perhaps was there a notification from any of your friends, a reel, a meme, anything-

"Put your phone away, we're with the family."

You looked up, your mother watching you and taking her glass in hand with a look of dissatisfaction. In a single instant, your cheeks heat up all the more as the fire in the fireplace presses against your skin, and you gulped.

"I just wanted to check if I had any news about Matt and Frank's drive," you explained simply, gently stuffing the phone into your pocket.

"They'll arrive when they arrive, but for now, be with us."

You nodded, discreetly biting your cheek as one of your only escapes for tonight went up in smoke. You would have much preferred to be able to escape a little and block out what was going on around you, even sorting out your gallery and deleting useless pictures would have been a more pleasant and less stressful activity.

But you couldn't, and you said nothing when it was your mother's turn to pick up her own phone and connect to the speaker to play her Christmas playlist.

The children played together, which should’ve been a joy, but their overexcited screams, incessant movements and all that noise were enough to make you feel the headache setting in.

There were easily three different conversations going on around you, and your mother turned up the music in response. You waved, putting your hand in front of you as if you were lazily dribbling an invisible ball to indicate her to lower the volume, and she turned the music down a notch.

You clenched your jaw, thinking to yourself that this was a good start, even if everything else was getting harder to hold on to.

Choosing to wear a hoodie became almost a regret as the ambient heat from the fireplace worked its way up your spine to the nape of your neck, creating an unpleasant feeling. Soon enough, you had to take it all off as the first signs of nausea began to make themselves felt.

You weren't particularly comfortable with the idea, but everyone's attention was obviously diverted enough to take no notice of your actions. Except perhaps for one.

"You could have made an effort on your outfit, it's not very festive." Your mother sighed before taking a sip from her glass of champagne. "Hadn't you lost weight? It would be a shame to spoil the occasion."

You swallowed, the ground looking awfully interesting at this very moment. You knew what would have been said to you if you'd worn something more in the spirit of it, "You've got a nice body, you should wear that more often," and other remarks falling into the famous "you should insert-disobliging-action more often" category.

You should wear that more often. You should smile more often. You should come more often. But none of these requests were of the taste to be fulfilled by you tonight.

So you simply shrugged, having nothing in particular to say, and feeling your heart clench. You were stuck in this contradictory place where if you made one move slightly changing from your usual self to them, you were reprimanded on it, but if you didn’t do anything in particular, they highlighted the fact that it was disappointing you hadn’t done anything.

"Well, we're delighted to have you with us tonight!" chuckled an uncle, raising his glass to you.

"It sure makes a change from knowing she's in her cave," chuckles an aunt.

You smile, but there's no warmth behind the gesture. By cave, they mean your bedroom. Your habit of isolating yourself had brought you a certain reputation within your family, and for years now it has been a recurring joke. They laughed about it every time, but you saw it more as a broken record replaying the same snippet of music... speaking of which, your mother turned up the sound again, thinking you wouldn't notice.

"Could you turn it down please? It's really loud." you ask politely, in the most calm, composed and polite tone you could produce at the moment.

"Oh come on," your mother grumbles, rolling her eyes, "we're allowed to have fun."

She turned up the volume once more, and finally someone other than you told her it was too loud. Reluctantly, she lowered the sound slightly, but it was still not enough for you. Your hands lodge over your ears, hoping with all your heart that this would ease the strain on your eardrums.

Conversations sought to drown out the music, each member pushing their voice for any discussion. Kids were still running around, chasing one another by screaming at each other, and adjusting your eyes on anything without the certainty of getting a headache felt like mission impossible.

Your hands on your ears helped slightly, and it was only then that your mother looked at you with a surprised expression.

"Does it really hurt?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yes," you nodded, "it really does."

Finally, she turned it down, and you exhaled as the others resumed a more appropriate though still higher volume of discussion than you'd prefer. The kids had been changed of room, making it more bearable for you to live through.

"So, what have you been up to lately?" asks one of your grandparents, "how's work?"

Your cheeks heat up, the discussion now turned towards you, prompting you to take your glass in hand just to have something to quench your throat suddenly arid as the sahara.

"Very well, business is good." you smiled falsely, forcing your face to display the features they might normally expect to see.

"Great, and those two guests coming tonight, do you know them from work?"

How could you say that the circumstances in which you had met these two men were in a situation that included Frank and Matt falling into your flat, bloodied, and asking you for help?

Karen, who you’d known through college, had advised them of your address, and when the first opportunity came up, they had taken the chance to make the most exceptional introduction you'd ever had in your life : stumbling at your place with cuts all around

"In a way, yes," you replied, pressing your lips into a thin line.

"One of them's her boyfriend, and the other's a lawyer," your mother informed the others, who seemed delighted by your seemingly noble company.

It's a good thing the flames in the fireplace were dying down and that it wasn't so hot anymore, because both your cheeks felt like you were resting the back of your hand on hot embers. It was a never-ending embarrassment to have such behaviour around you, saying aloud everything regarding you without you consenting to any information to be given. Wherever ridiculous actions or the slightest subject that was even a little new and out of their boredom-inducing daily lives occurred, they swarmed.

Nevertheless, the conversation drifted away to your delight, and at the mention of your loves, you couldn't stop thinking about them. You would have liked to check the time, to see if they had any problems on the way that might have delayed them, but you knew that such conduct was likely to earn you an additional remark about the use of your telephone. After all, she could find openings as easily as water in a colander.

Just then, a dance song began to play which, objectively, had nothing to do with the Christmas spirit. So everyone stood up, moving the chairs to get more room, and you helped in this cacophony of moved furniture.

You stood to one side as everyone got to the centre of the room, their dance steps resembling a veritable collective epileptic seizure of which you had no desire to become another member.

You took the opportunity to take refuge in the bathroom, carefully closing the door behind you and sitting down on the toilet to take a deep breath. The after-effects of all these mixed sensations were beginning to make themselves known.

Your body was as taut as a bowstring, as if every muscle had contracted from a high fall, and it felt as if releasing all the tension would break you in thousands of small pieces. Your heart wasn't beating particularly fast, but it was beating hard, and you couldn't ignore it.

You took a deep breath, letting your head fall back as you closed your eyes. Your throat and chest were tight, so tight that you felt like crying right now. But you couldn't, it would be too noticeable once you got out of here, and you didn't want to give them the pleasure of having an extra subject to talk about at the end of the evening once you'd gone. It would do them too much honour, and you couldn't afford to give them any.

You were so tired, you couldn't take it any more, the fatigue coursing through your body like you'd run a marathon of shame. You breathed in again, feeling your previously tight chest slowly relax as your body was jolting a bit from the unease.

This wouldn't last forever. By the end of the evening, after dessert, you wouldn't be in this house surrounded by all these people, all these eyes, all these mouths, all this noise.

That's when your phone buzzed, and without missing a beat, you pulled it out of your pocket. On the screen was a single message from Frank that gave you tremendous reassurance:

We're here.

You bit your lip, nodding slowly. One last breath for courage and you stood up, opening the door of the bathroom. Without anyone noticing, you grabbed your hoodie and stepped outside into the cool of the night.

The sudden chill brought you unparalleled comfort, biting your cheeks hot with frustration and embarrassment. Perhaps the night would heal you, that its cool caress would apply its balm of softness to all that pressure and relieve you of your tension.

You turned your key ring to find the one for the gate a little further on, trying to walk and not sprint to it. Inserting the key almost frantically but controlling your excitement and relief at their presence, you opened the game.

And there they were, smiling at you.

"Evening sweetheart," Frank smiled when he saw you.

"Sorry we took so long," Matt apologised, pressing his lips together.

You looked behind you to make sure no one had followed you outside, closing the gate slightly so that you wouldn't be seen. You knew that even from here, your group of three could be seen as a pile of meat around which the vultures would circle, and you didn't want to risk being their next meal.

You hugged them both, relieved to have them close to you, and the suddenness and desperation in your gesture almost seemed to surprise them. They hugged you back, kissing your temple.

"Your cheeks are warm," Frank chuckled, pressing his face harder against yours, making you giggle.

"Is everything okay?" asked Matt, stroking your hair, "you're all tense."

Of course, Matt noticing every microscopic detail as usual, couldn't help but pick up on how stiff your body looked, and how the smell of stress covered your skin in the thinnest film. There was no point in lying to Matt, or pretending to divert the subject with Frank, so you sighed.

"Lots of noise, not much serenity," you replied, letting your head fall against the devil's chest.

You were trying to cherish all this a little more, because once you were back in the house, you and Matt wouldn't be able to touch each other again except perhaps to pass a plate across the table and let your fingers deliberately brush against each other.

They'd already been told by you what to expect, and even if they were prepared, they were sorry to find you like this.

"We won't stay here the whole night," Matt reassures as he wraps his arms around you, stroking your back. "Let's hope we get out of here before Frank goes so far as to take the silverware from the table and threaten anyone with the butter knife."

"You're ruining my fun, Red. Now I've got to find something more inventive," sighed the latter.

"Take the star at the top of the pine tree, it'll be sharp enough," you suggested, turning your head towards him, cheek still pressed against Matt's chest.

"See that, that's Christmas spirit," smiled Frank.

You loosened your embrace, Matt gently kissing your lips. He savoured the moment, and so did you, because this kind of proximity with him wasn't going to happen again for several hours.

"Ready?" asked Frank, letting his pointer finger form a hook to caress the skin of your cheek.

You looked at the lights further away from the house, hearing the music from here and already preparing in the second part of the night.

"Ready," you breathed in before reopening the gate and letting them through.

You felt your heart clench again, the unpleasant tingle of anxiety coursing through your veins in a fluid traffic that seemed impossible to dilute. You tried to breathe calmly, preparing yourself once again to face the suffocating interior of sounds, movements and remarks.

"Remember, if you need to take a break from all this and go outside, squeeze my hand three times, okay sweetheart ?" reminded Frank, placing his hand on the small of your back.

"Yeah," you swallowed, nodding softly as a tight little smile spread across your lips.

You'd agreed to pretend, in case things got desperate and you needed a break, that Frank was a smoker, and that you and Matt shared his ciggy break together.

All of this preparation had come from the fact your mother had passed an entire questioning about your boyfriend - or at least one of them - to prepare herself conventionally. You knew how she was, and such coaching with the guys was for the better.

Still, his hand on your back was reassuring, and made things easier to bear.

You opened the door, and everyone turned to you with a big "Ah" of satisfaction. Introductions were made as both took off their jackets. Frank remained friendly but guarded - as usual, typical Frank - and Matt seemed to bloom in this social environment like a freshly blossomed flower.

It didn't take long for most of your family to decide that they loved Matt. His well-timed humour, his natural charm, his eloquence, everything about him made him a man to be admired.

"Isn't there any way he could be your boyfriend instead?" said an aunt, approaching you as Matt and Frank continued to be introduced.

"He's way out of her league," sneered another, "they both are, actually."

You pressed your lips together, blowing falsely from your nose to feign amusement. You knew Matt could hear every little jab at you tonight, and if he was feeling any frustration, he was hiding it perfectly.

"Where did you get them? I want one too," said the first, making the other laugh.

"Might get the lawyer's phone number," she replied.

"Yours is very fine too," remarked the other, "how'd you manage to get him ?"

They both said these sentences as if their own husbands weren't in the room, and as if the possibility of you being in a relationship with one of them was a miracle, or just a huge stroke of luck.

"Through work," you replied mechanically and through clenched teeth before moving into the kitchen to help with the dishes.

You knew these sorts of remarks were to be brought up, on how you’d managed to surround yourself so well. Matt and Frank had long wondered how your confidence in yourself was so low, but maybe tonight would’ve been the perfect example as to why it was the case.

The transition to the table was almost seamless. Everyone sat down, the seating order meticulously adapted for everyone. Fortunately, you found yourself between Frank and Matt. You were inwardly grateful for the choice of decorations when you realised that the tablecloth was quite long, and that the reassuring hand Matt had just put on your thigh wouldn't be noticeable.

You breathed softly, the warmth of his hand anchoring you better in all of this and giving you something to focus on that was sweeter than any mean remarks.

Of course, with every new person around the table comes an interrogation to get to know them. Questions of all kinds followed for the boys, about their work, their activities, your aunts of course looking for answers as to how you and Frank had ended up together.

You'd worked it out and decided that Matt had introduced you to Frank and that, through your shared tastes in literature and other things, you'd ended up bonding.

"If books are the new way to getting to a man I've got some reading to do," joked one of the aunts, making the table laugh unanimously, "never thought you'd manage anything of the sort."

The pique directed at you made you feel as if you were swallowing a large ice cube with difficulty, but you covered your discomfort with an expert fake smile. Masking all that discomfort since the start of the evening was beginning to prove complicated, but you weren't going to use the smoking-break Joker just yet.

You could see in the corners of your eyes how Matt was wearing a stiff smile, and how Frank's jaw was tense. Gently reaching under the table, you took both their hands, turning to Frank with another smile that this time wasn't imbued with the polite mask you wore, but with sincerity.

"Let's just say I was lucky " to have found two such extraordinary people who fill my life with love on a daily basis, would you have finished.

You squeezed their hands, drawing small circles on their skins as they both smiled.

The starter was over, the main course continued as your stomach was refusing to let you eat anything, and the whole thing brought together discussions that made you uncomfortable to say the least. All sorts of unconscious or simply cruel racist, homophobic and even transphobic remarks were placed on the table.

You remained silent, not speaking particularly. You had no desire to take part in this kind of discussion, given how horrible the venom on each other's tongues was. You just hoped it would all be over soon, looking forward to going home with Frank and Matt.

The cousins were chatting away like fascists, one talking about Napoleon, and the old days being the best, while talking about the questionable politicians he was listening to on the radio.

The cheese arrived, and then came the little break just before dessert. They put on a film for the children, so that the adults could have a quiet chat without all the heckling.

Hearing the parents' arse jokes, you'd think they'd be fucking each other on the table if they thought it was funny. You could very well let your own sassy tongue out, say that if this aunt isn't listening to what's being said already it's because she's working out her next gossip, but you have to forgive her because she wouldn't be like this if her husband wasn't cheating on her, or maybe he's cheating on her because she's like this.

To tell the uncles that they're less likely to die from terrorism than from alcoholism, to tell one aunt to strap the kids up tight because her husband is going to be driving as if he had an autonomous car. And that you would’ve liked to finish by saying that no matter the smiles, the village fete, all it took was a small difference for everyone to see the real faces.

But you said nothing, keeping to yourself those comments that would only serve to fuel their hatred.

As Frank came up to grab another drink, your mother sat next to you on the sofa while the two boys came to be monopolised by aunts and uncles. A procession of rednecks near Frank discussing his familiarity with weapons and his military past, while the aunts were wiggling around Matt hoping to curry favour with the young lawyer.

"It's too hot in here," you murmured as you shifted a little from your mother, but she wasn't letting go and placed her head on your shoulder.

"But I want to be close to you," she said with a pout, the alcohol making her visibly affectionate.

You tensed, the desire to get away from it all running through your body, screaming under your skin. But there was nothing you could do, frozen there in the middle of it all, having to endure the situation as best you could.

The familial conversation drifted onto the subject of intellectuality, on the fact that your family was made up of nothing else, or at least for the most part. And you felt tiny, because they were generally right: they were all huge readers of the classics, who knew a lot about history, literature, philosophy and other human sciences.

All these subjects were familiar to you, because you had had to learn them, to master them in the face of the global family demand for the cultivation of excellence.

Even though you were the ugly duckling of the family, that didn't stop you sharing this knowledge and they were all aware of it. You were able to inject the conversation with valid arguments and insights you'd learned on your own that were important to the topic, and whenever the occasion to say something wise came up that you grasped, they seemed more tolerable to you.

When the discussion turned to the descendants of a painter, you were asked to verify the accuracy of certain statements. So you looked it up on your phone, but barely half a minute later, your mother couldn't resist reprimanding you:

"What did I tell you on your phone? Not when we're with the family."

Irritation from all the previous events of the evening was beginning to press down on you, and it was with some irritation that you replied:

"But I've been asked for some information."

Your voice was almost like that of a child defending themselves against someone calling them a liar, and this tone seemed to displease her when her gaze hardened.

"Don't talk to me like that, and put your phone away."

You bit the inside of your cheek so hard it felt like it was going to bleed, and said nothing as you put your phone back in your pocket while the conversation around you resumed.

You didn't meet Frank's gaze, nor did you turn to Matt, because you knew that this simple gesture would show weakness and a cry for help. However, you had made them swear not to interfere, and you remained silent for a while, trying to calm yourself down as you watched the fire ripple in the fireplace like an orange veil dancing in the wind while you fiddled with your fingers.

The tic was automatic; Matt and Frank would have preferred to have taken your hand in theirs to prevent this torment.

What irritated you most of all was the profound injustice of the whole evening. You wouldn’t say anything, and you’d be considered too silent so people would ask you questions, but once you opened your mouth they were not satisfied with your answers. You couldn’t take your own phone, when all the aunts had their own, texting to their friends and all. Children had the right to get away in another room and watch a movie, while you had to stick there doing nothing but listening to whatever was said.

You couldn’t wait for the night to come to an end.

It was time to store the presents everywhere and pretend to the children that Santa had stopped by while they were watching the movie. Everything was placed in colourful piles, and when the children were called, they ran down the stairs and began the frantic tearing of gift wrap to an orchestra of shrieks and shredding.

All the accumulated sounds made you grit your teeth, tightening your throat and making you want to cry. You could feel the limit coming, and you needed a break to prevent you from imploding.

This time you took Frank's hand and squeezed it three times. He turned to you immediately, stroking your cheek before telling Matt. As quickly as they could without looking rushed, they put on their jackets and went out after you.

The night air calmed some part of you instantly, the contrast between all the hectic ambiance inside and the calmness of the outside felt like two extreme opposite worlds living by the only separation of a door.

To make sure that even from the outside there would be no doubt about this cover, Frank had to play along by taking out a cigarette and lighting it. He seemed irritated, and the idea of that Joker card almost seemed to play a real asset in all this to calm him down.

"How the fuck do they sleep at night?" he grumbles as he puffs out his first drag, "it's like they take every opportunity they get to pull you down."

"It's alright, let it slide." you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest.

"No it's not," he continues, "I can't believe you managed to handle their company for all these years."

"Didn't have much of a choice," you breathe.

"I know you said it was bad, I just didn't imagine it was constantly so," Matt confirmed.

"If I go back there I might actually punch them in the face," Frank grumbles before taking another drag on the cigarette.

"All that's left is the presents from the adults, then the Yule log, and then we'll be off, okay?" reassured Matt, placing his hand gently on your shoulder.

The touch of his hand brought a comforting warmth, and his words managed to reassure you. You looked at them both, thinking about how it would’ve been without them : unbearable, definitely. You had barely been able to handle it before they came, but now that they were here, you felt safe, like half of the poison that was thrown at you was not as effective.

They had changed you, made you feel loved, cherished, proud. They had been trying to break these patterns, the self depreciation, the self sabotage, the lack of self confidence. They were helping you build yourself back up from the ruins everyone else had left, and you were the most grateful to the universe to had brought them in your life.

"Thank you both, for being here," you admitted, your voice almost cracking, the coolness of the night giving you a feeling of security that was enough to relax your knotted throat.

They turned towards you, their faces softening. They knew what you were going through, what you were enduring for the night, and how complicated and unpleasant it must have been until they arrived.

Frank took you in his arms, the smell of tobacco already permeating his clothes. Matt must not have been enjoying it at all, smelling that darkly sugary, smoky smell all around him, but whatever personal discomfort he was experiencing he didn't let it show.

"It's the least we can do, beautiful," he replied, stroking your back.

"We just wish we could shut their mouths," Matt agreed, holding back from participating in the embrace as you’d instructed him.

"And stop this whole group of women from praising you?" sneered Frank, which made you smile.

Matt's nose scrunched up and his bottom lip curled in disgust at the remark.

"One of them wanted to feed me appetisers, and another asked me about being blind and whether I'd mind being in a relationship with someone whose looks I can't see." he said with a sigh.

"And then?" asked Frank curiously as you both turned to face the lawyer.

"I told her that I didn't need to see to know who was good-looking, and that if I chose my relationships purely on looks, I wouldn't know true friendship or love."

"All those poetic words must have pleased her," Frank punctuated with a whistle.

"Not until I told her my grandmother wore the same perfume as her."

You and Frank both laughed softly, truly impressed at how Matt was handling all this flirting and cringe from several women altogether.

But this calm moment had to have an end, as the cigarette grew smaller and smaller by the minute. Frank broke away from your embrace to finish it and stubbed it out on the wall.

This little outing had done you a world of good. The cool night air had refreshed you, its delicate silence giving you a break from all the noise and the terrible comments from your family all the while Frank and Matt allowed you this break from constant barbs.

You returned again inside, the end of the opening of presents for the children welcoming you. And so the opening of those for the adults began, all the parcels being stored on the table in more chic and sober wrappings. The grandparents started, Frank standing behind you with one hand on your shoulder and the other holding his glass of champagne.

One by one, they all opened their presents, until it was your turn. Embarrassment gripped your body as all eyes were on you, and you dreaded the opening simply by being watched with boredom mixed with curiosity - to see how you might react and make the slightest faux pas.

You went about it slowly, wishing to unpack properly and not act like a barbarian tearing everything apart at once. Your aunt beside you imitated a yawn at the fact that you were making them wait, and everyone laughed, a tense little smile nailed to your cheeks.

What you got in the end wasn't too bad, nor too far from what you could appreciate, surprisingly. Of course, you had to force yourself to smile at most of the useless gifts that gave you absolutely no pleasure, but you thanked everyone, and the presentation of gifts moved on to the next ones.

"Didn't you get her anything?" your mother asked the boys.

"Her presents are at my place," Frank informed her.

The sentence made your heart spike up, a sudden warmth colouring your chest in pink softness as the sparkles of it brought the tingling sensation of tears at the corners of your eyes. Presents, they had gotten you presents.

You were not going to cry, of course not, but the lump formed in your throat gave you enough of a hard time that you had to grab your drink and sip on it.

"Speaking of your place, have you looked at the traffic to get home?" questioned Matt, "I don't think I want to take too long."

"I'll have a look," he said, taking his hand off your shoulder to pick up his phone.

You wondered if Matt had had enough, if his own senses had been overwhelmed by all of this and he was pondering on going home. But then realised what they were doing : feigning traffic disruption in order to get home early and save yourself a lot of awful time.

"I think we're going to have to go," Frank nodded as he put his phone away. "Sweetheart? Ready?" he asked, bending over so that his chest pressed against your back.

"Yes," you said as you took a big breath and stood up, saying goodbye to the whole family.

You dreaded the hugs, the kisses on the cheeks or simply the fact of pressing them together and imitating the sound of what should have been a fake smooch, but with a surge of tiredness you objected to this using the excuse of " time is running out".

In no time at all, Matt and Frank had gathered up all your things and were carrying them, heading for the entrance hall to collect theirs.

In less time than it takes to say it, you were finally outside, walking up to the gate. You felt as if your lungs were being squeezed as you went along, almost expecting to feel a rope being pulled tight inside you to tie you to the house, for someone to come out and catch you or whatever. You felt almost like a gnat trying to escape from the spider's web in which it had been stuck a little too long.

You stuck the key in the lock of the gate, turned it hastily, then opened it to let them go with you, closing the big opaque metal door with that step. The pressure hadn't gone away from your body yet, every limb feeling like it was made of thick, rough foam where multiple needles had pierced you in the many crevices they'd already left and were digging even deeper.

You looked for the car in the hope of getting to it as quickly as possible, but you let out a little squeal of surprise when your feet flew off the ground as Frank swept you up in his arms like a princess.

"Ain't no way you're gonna walk, you've had enough exhaustion for the night," he said, tightening his grip on your back and the back of your knees.

"But-" you began reflexively, although the idea of giving up this position didn't bring you any comfort.

"Ah ah," he stopped, "don't wanna hear about it." If he had his two hands free and was being childish, he would have put them over his ears, singing la la la and pretending not to hear anything.

But his hands were firmly under you, giving you all the security you could have dreamed of and the beginnings of a comfort that would last all evening until you'd sleep.

"Circus night is over," Matt huffed, taking a deep breath, "I think I've heard enough nonsense for one year."

"Lucky for you, next one's less than a week away," sneered Frank.

"I'd rather lose a second sense than inflict this on myself and our angel a second time," the demon replied as he grabbed the car keys from Frank's pocket and opened it.

He opened one of the rear doors, letting Frank gently place you in and strap you in place, placing a kiss on your forehead as he stepped aside to let Matt pass and place the few bags in the boot.

Matt sat down beside you, and you let your head fall on his shoulder. You felt the tingles of anxiety under your skin lodge in your legs and squeeze your chest, the rush to get out of here weighing heavily on your head.

Frank sat in the front seat, turning the car key and making it purr, then drove off.

As the car rounded the corner, all the tension began to dissipate and you let the breath you'd been holding in escape from your chest. Your whole body felt heavy, your hands gloved with marble, your legs booted with lead and your head stuffed with cotton.

You felt the softness of Matt's lips as he placed a kiss on your forehead, his hand coming to rest on your thigh as you hummed under the sweetness of his comfort.

"It's all over now," he said, resting his chin on your head, "we're going to take care of you."

You snuggle up to him, your hand coming to rest on his as you breathe softly. Your fingers drew soft, formless patterns on the back of his hand, fighting the fatigue that had fallen on you like an anvil.

The moment was sweet, Matt's warmth through his clothes spreading close to you as you turned his hand onto his back to gently trace the lines from his palm up to his callused fingers.

"I'd have to get rid of some of them," grunted Frank, who clearly hadn't yet calmed his frustration, "I'm sure they'd be much better off in an asylum."

"It's an insane asylum, not an asshole asylum," Matt remarked, "you'd have to build asshole asylums but... you can imagine the size of the buildings."

"Yeah, still, maybe I should have burnt my cigarette on one of their cars."

"What a nice Christmas present," chuckled Matt.

"I can be generous sometimes," confirmed Frank.

"Especially when you threaten people," you agreed.

"A pittance," Matt snickered, "Is that one of my sweaters by the way ?

"Yes," you sigh, "I'll have you know it's been criticised tonight."

"Really? By whom."

"I'll let you guess."

"A bit bold coming from someone dressed like Norman Bates who dresses like his mother," Frank grumbled.

You laughed softly, a sort of little venting session taking place in the car like a debriefing following a bizarre situation.

"With all those women around, Red's charm knows no bounds," laughed Frank, "you've caught the eye of one in particular it seems."

"My aunt? She's suffering from too much oestrogen. If you're interested, I can put you in touch," you grinned.

" I'd rather sleep on cotton sheets." grunts Matt as his hand grabs your thigh and squeezes a little tighter, letting a small chirp of amusement escape from between your lips.

The ride continued, and your stomach went all hollow, grumbling with displeasure at the emptiness you'd left it.

"Didn't eat much, did you ?" asked Matt softly.

"Barely touched her plate," confirmed Frank at the front.

"Didn't feel like it," you murmured.

"Is there anything you'd like when you get home?" proposed the demon, interlacing his fingers with yours.

"Something sweet," you hummed, adjusting your chin to rest it on his shoulder.

"Anything else?"

"Two pairs of arms around me," you smiled.

They both grinned, and the ride went by in a flash. You untied yourself once you'd arrived, stretching slightly as you shifted to open the door beside you, but Matt's hand from your thigh came to grab your hip and pull you back to him in a gesture that seemed immensely easy.

You turned to face him, confused for a moment, as he kissed your cheek.

"No walking, remember?" he smiled as Frank opened his car door to come towards yours.

You sigh, shaking your head slightly as you roll your eyes. They were overdoing it, but you weren't going to stop them.

"Come here princess," Frank said as he pulled your hips towards him to take you in his arms again.

You wrapped your hands around the back of his nape, nestling your face in his neck and smelling his subtle cologne on his warm skin.

Matt took the bags and went ahead to open the door for you. The familiar smell of your real home seemed to wash all your worries from your body as you took a simple breath.

The bags were deposited in the hallway, Frank walking over to the sofa to set you down.

"Stay right there and don't move," he informed, hands on either side of you as he kissed you softly.

"What happens if I move ?" you asked, placing one of your hands on his arms.

"I'll tie you up like a pretty present," he chuckled as he kissed you again, "the most perfect present we'd ever have."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" you teased, your foreheads pressed together.

"It's a statement," he concluded.

He straightened up, and you were already missing his presence near you, but you respected his request - or rather his order - and remained seated on the sofa. Your head fell back, your body moulding itself to the shape of the couch under the effect of the evening's emotional turmoil. The tension drained away more and more, relaxing your tired muscles and making you yawn.

It wasn't long before Matt and Frank returned with more casual outfits and packages in their hands. You straightened up, bending your knees on the sofa about to get up, but remembering the fact that walking wasn't a possibility, you explained:

"I've got some for you too, am I allowed to go and get them?"

"For us?" said a surprised Frank, pointing at himself as if there was some mistake.

"You mean the packages under the first step of the stairs?" questioned Matt, "I thought those were packages you forgot about for the others."

"No, these are for you," you confirmed as you sat back down on your knees on the sofa.

They stood like that, one blinking repeatedly while the other kept his lips parted.

"You really didn't have to-" Matt began, but you stopped him immediately.

"Tsk tsk, if I don't have the right to stand up, you don't have the right to stop me from giving you presents."

"But-" resumed Frank.

"Ah ah," you smiled in the same tone he'd given you earlier, "don't wanna hear about it."

He parted his lips in a smile but said nothing as Matt laughed softly to the side. They approached you, Frank placing the packages on the coffee table as Matt turned away.

"I'll get them," he eventually says, heading for the top step, cracking it open and pulling out three packages to take back to the coffee table.

"The medium one is for you," you say, pushing the first one towards Frank, "and the big and small one are for you," the two boxes sliding across the smooth table towards Matt.

The packets seemed a particularly complex conundrum to them, but you urged them to open their presents.

Matt opened his and discovered a 7kg weighted blanket and an anti-stress ring that could be twirled on his finger.

"I know you sometimes ask me or Frank to lie on top of you because the weight makes you feel better, so I got you this, which should help if neither of us is ever there to give you what you want. As for the ring, I know that times at the Court can be stressful, so I thought it might help you find a point of anchorage."

Matt seemed at a loss for words, taking the duvet between his fingers and touching the silk sheet you'd wrapped it in. Putting the ring on his index finger, which fit perfectly, he smiled to himself.

As for Frank, he removed the wrapping and his lips parted.

"I've been looking for these for months," he said, looking at the few books he'd been talking about over and over again. "How did you... ?"

You'd scoured countless bookshops, searched book repositories, researched the clearance of certain titles by libraries to find these books that had all but disappeared very quickly while the work was being republished and retranslated.

"A good girlfriend never reveals her secrets," you smiled.

The two of them placed their gifts on the table and came to embrace you, nestling their faces in the crooks of your neck. They held you close, gently kissing your skin between hushed "thank you's", dotting your neck and face with soft pecks.

"What did we do to deserve you," Frank murmured, pulling back slightly.

"I could ask the same about you both," you smiled, running your fingers through their hair.

They kissed you again, then handed you their own gift. You opened it, and it was something you'd talked about several times before, something that was very close to your heart and that they'd decided to give you. This time it was your turn to hug them, and they laughed as you showered their faces with kisses.

"What do you say to a nice bath, and then some dessert before bed?" offered Matt.

"I think that's the best idea of the evening," you confirmed, caressing his cheek and kissing his nose.

Without further ado, Frank took you in his arms like a koala, letting your legs cross behind him as you pressed your cheek against his shoulder. He led you and Matt into the bathroom, the devil bending over the tub to prepare the bath.

Frank lifted you slightly and sat you down on the wash basin counter, letting his hands fall on both your thighs and stroking them gently.

"As much as I love your makeup, we're gonna have to remove it sweetheart", he explained, kissing your cheek.

So mechanically, you grabbed your make-up remover, ready to start the process. But Frank stopped you in your tracks, gently taking the bottle in one hand and a cotton pad in the other.

He poured a small amount onto the white disc, dosing as you did regularly.

"Close your pretty eyes for me," he murmured, taking your chin between his fingers and starting to remove your make-up.

Frank had this charming habit, in the evenings when you were getting ready for bed and he wasn't out playing vigilante, of watching you remove your make-up. He knew a lot about your day by the way you went about it: slow and thoughtful was the result of a good day, faster and more jerky obviously reflected one full of frustration, and sometimes when your movements were slow and your eyes half-closed, it generally meant that the day had been very, very long.

He concentrated, pressing tenderly against your skin as he removed iridescent, matte and mascara from your eyelids, occasionally pausing to kiss your lips, making you smile and giggle softly with each peck.

You almost wanted to put lipstick on his lips and let him kiss your whole face until the red of your cheeks was indistinguishable from the colour of the lipstick.

He asked you to look up this time to clear away the mascara smears and the black marks left in their path. He was doing this with the utmost precision, and this personal attention sent tickles all the way to the back of your skull.

"Look at me?" he asked and you complied, a smirk forming on his lips. "The prettiest girl."

He came over and placed a strand of hair behind your ear before stepping aside to throw away the little cotton disc.

"I'm gonna go and check what snacks we have, Red? I'll leave you my favourite part, but only because it's christmas alright?" he informed before kissing the tip of your nose one last time and stepping out of the bathroom.

Matt, so far checking the temperature of the bath water to make sure it was correct, shook off his damp fingers and wiped them on a towel before standing up and moving between your legs.

"I'll have you stand up just for a bit," he cautioned, taking your hands and pulling you slightly towards him to get you to your feet. "Arms up."

At his request, you raised your arms. His hands pinched the bottom of your hoodie and pulled it up your body. He laid it to one side, continuing with your t-shirt, his fingers still warm from the water sliding delicately against your skin.

"So that's Frank's favourite part?" you smiled, "undressing me?

"I have to say it is," he stated as he unbuttoned your trousers and panties, sliding them to the floor where you lifted your feet to get out of them.

"And what's your favourite part?" you asked as he took off your socks and raised up to your level.

"The one that's about to happen."

He guided you to the bath and let you slide in gently. The temperature was perfect, just as you liked it, and you let out a moan of ease from between your lips until most of your body was submerged in the bath.

Matt took a stool from the bathroom and placed it beside you, taking a cup at the same time to pour water over your hair. He applied himself with great care, taking his time to make sure no drops got into your eyes.

Your muscles relaxed naturally with the heat, finally eradicating the tension in your body once and for all.

You felt Matt's fingers dip into the bath water, sliding up from the skin of your thigh and gently up your body, tracing your silhouette under the water.

"You're beautiful," he whispers as his wet fingers rose from the water to caress your cheek.

"How could you know?" you asked softly, watching as he stared into the emptiness.

"My hands don't lie to me, and I know the beauty of the mind at first sight of the heart" he smiled as he took your bottle of shampoo, pouring some into his palm before massaging your head.

To help him, you straightened up, pivoting slightly to get your back to him. His fingers snaked through your hair, massaging gently and lathering everything up slowly. He worked the back of your neck, muscles tense, letting your head go with the movement of his hands.

With your neck now leaning back, Matt smiled gently before kissing your forehead.

"That's my favourite part," he confirmed, resuming the massage.

You let your eyes close, surrendering to the gentleness of the moment and Matt's touch. He was pressing, caressing, painting with his fingers as if he were holding the most beautiful and delicate material in his hands.

Too soon for your liking - because you would have preferred this moment to have no end - he rinsed your hair, letting the white mousse spread over your shoulders and applying it lightly to your skin. He took the sponge, soaking it in shower gel before squeezing it into a foam so that he could spread the bubbly cloud over your skin.

He took one of your arms, raising it so that he could get it straight and soap you up properly, and he kissed the length of your skin before the softness of his kisses was erased by the little soap bubbles that the sponge left in its wake. He did the same for your second arm, and your leg, and the second after that, covering your whole body with kisses and softness.

At first you thought it was unfair, because no sooner had he placed a kiss on your skin than he wiped it away with white foam. But you were soon comforted by the idea that these weren't kisses being chased away, but kisses being kept, kisses that seeped under your skin and brought you all the warmth that the bath was beginning to no longer contain.

Before the water got too cold, he gently rinsed you off and got you out of the tub, wrapping you in your bathrobe.

Frank came back into the bathroom at last, bringing clean, more comfortable clothes in his hands. They both took their time drying your hair and dressing you, whispering sweet nothings to you as they kissed your cheeks and temples.

Each kiss washed away the stress you'd been feeling, replacing bitterness with sweetness, and you relished every moment of it.

Once again they carried you in their arms to the sofa, where Frank had placed a plethora of foodstuffs of all kinds on the table, snacks and other sweet products that you might have wanted at the time.

You watched several episodes of a series that you'd been watching together lately, commenting on it and falsely - or actually - taking offence at the particularly stupid choices made by the main characters.

You didn't need any more than that. All the love in the world was with them.

They had taught you how one hand changes when you put it on top of another, that another world is possible but is present in this one, that there is always a dream asleep.

They were standing on your eyelids, and their hair was in yours, they were engulfed in your shadow. Their eyes were always open, they wouldn't let you sleep, their kisses in the light made the sun evaporate.

Back pressed against the chest of one, face hidden in the nape of the other's neck, tonight you fell asleep, fulfilled, safe and loved.

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dameronology · 3 months

Text

moment's passed (matt murdock)

summary: based on say don't go by t.swift (x)

warnings: excessive use of the f-word. angst.

this is one of the from the vault songs that just fucking HITS me. i have been crying to this since it came out tbh. i hope you enjoy xx

-jazz

You had Matt Murdock.

Until you didn't.

Things had been sweet at first; he was a weathered lawyer who needed some light in his life. Somebody to come home to; somebody to properly love for the first time in his fucking life. It wasn't like the high he was chasing with Eletkra Natchios, or the familiarity he'd sought out with Karen Page. He got both things from your relationship, but you were...different. You gave him highs; you could make him feel like he was home and on a rollercoaster all at once. It was a feeling Matthew wanted to keep for the rest of his life. He would have been stupid not to. But wasn't that the thing about Matt? He was incredibly smart, but also incredibly fucking stupid. Almost bound to take someone for granted. He'd done it with Foggy, hadn't he?

Five years. That was how long you made it before cracks began to appear in your foundations. You'd loved Matt for his Daredevil side at first; maybe he could go too far, but he'd always known when to stop (right?) and you admired him for it. For his bravery, for his candor, for the way he protected the city. It was like a dark and sexy secret that you prided yourself on keeping. It tied you together. You were part of it now. You were the person that Matt could come to about his darkest fears and worst nights. You were the person whose side he would curl up into during the night, craving someone to protect him for once. There was always the worry that he would go into deep and truly lose himself, but every time Matt found himself on the precipice of doing so, you would be there to hold him back - to keep him sane and to stop him letting Matt Murdock and Daredevil blur into one person.

You were only a human being, though. So was he. Matt could save the city and everything in it but you couldn't save him from himself. Save him from coming home at 6AM - your agreement had always been 3AM at the latest - and sliding into bed beside you without a word, or save him from waking up in a bad mood and refusing to talk to you about it. No matter how many times you begged him to just spend one night in, or to not leave himself three hours to sleep before work. It all fell on empty ears and that hurt when he had fucking super hearing. Comforting cuddles at night turned into whispered touches and soon, those touches became backs turned to one another. Long conversations turned into polite niceties than eventually faded into silence. The happy relationship - breakfast together in the morning at the table and takeouts on the sofa at night - became a burden. A horse you were both flogging because staying together in silence was slightly less terrifying than whatever the alternative that left you alone was. Soon, you were the only one flogging said horse. Matt had dropped his stick a long time ago and turned away. He'd walked into the depths of Hell's Kitchen and you weren't sure he was ever coming back.

This wasn't your fault. Maybe it wasn't his fault either but hell it was his burden to bear. You'd done nothing but love and support him and what did you get in return? Silence. Iciness. Long, tense moments of forced conversations.

You got used to it eventually. Every night, he'd come stumbling in at 4,5,6AM, skin littered with bruises and wounds; some from that night and others reopened. Matt's skin was thick with scars now. They were forming a new Daredevil suit across his arms and legs and back and there was no taking it off. It was always there. Always a reminder.

Matt was laying with his back to you; you watched with open eyes, as his breathing went from shallow and tense, to something a little deeper and softer. He was falling asleep. Tough fucking luck, Murdock, you thought, it's time to talk.

You brushed a hand down his back - Matt arched like a cat, suddenly waking.

"Hey, Matty."

He sighed heavily. "I was sleeping."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just wanted to see how you were-"

"- I'm tired," Matt huffed. "Go to sleep."

"I'm tired too," you murmured. Tired of this. Tired of this silence. Tired of you.

"Sleep too, then."

"I will," you whispered. "What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?"

"I'm working all day. Probably late."

"Okay, goodnight," you said. "I love you."

Silence.

The morning came and still, Matt barely spoke to you. He ghosted past you in the morning, hands fumbling for a clean shirt and pants. His shoes were pulled on and coffee made, and he was out the door before you'd even risen for work. That was purposeful. He never left earlier than 8AM and it wasn't even gone 7:30. Maybe he didn't want to talk. Maybe he just wanted to talk to anyone that wasn't you - which was funny, because you'd barely had a conversation in weeks.

You had lunch with Karen later that day, about four doors down from the Nelson & Murdock office. Whatever dalliance she'd had with Matt was in the past - you two were good friends. She was level-headed and candid. You needed that in a friend. She always said what you needed to hear, even if you didn't want to.

"So, I'm gonna see this guy for a second date, I think," Karen was saying something. You were gone, eyes blankly staring past her. "But I'm not sure, because - hey, are you listening to me?"

"No," you admitted. "I'm sorry. I had a really shitty night."

Her face fell with concern. "What's going on?"

"Matt's losing himself to his night job," you admitted. "I haven't had a proper talk with him in fucking months. I don't think he's touched me since people liked James Corden, Karen. Do you know what a long time that is?"

"Jesus," she muttered. Without another word, she pulled out her diary and flicked through it. "Look, it says he's got his whole afternoon wide open today. He went home at midday I think."

You faltered slightly. Either Karen was mistaken or Matt was a fucking liar and had fed you bullshit about being busy this afternoon. The worst part was that you knew Karen never made mistakes when it came to her secretary job. She had a Pinterest board for everything and her Google calendar synced up to ten different devices. She probably wasn't wrong and lying to you, although a new development, was pretty in line with how Matt had been lately. It felt like the final nail in the coffin. The thing that sealed your relationship's fate.

"I..." you muttered. "Okay. Will you hate me if I ditch early to go and talk to him?"

Karen shook her head. "No. Go."

That subway ride was the longest of your ride. It felt like every stop was twice as long; like every red signal lasted ten years. Had the walk from the platform to the barriers always been this long? Had the street from the station to your apartment been this stretched out? Your feet had never hurt more as you sprinted up the stairs from the lobby to your apartment. The door was on the latch - Karen was right, he had been home - and you booted it down with ease. Matt jumped up from the sofa as you did.

"What are you-"

"- you're a fucking liar!" you snapped.

There was a lingering silence for a moment. Matt was a man of few words but he had very rarely found himself speechless.

"I'm done," you muttered.

"Done with what?"

"I'm done with you," you said. "I'm done with us. With this shitty relationship. Do you know how long I've been trying? How long I've been begging you to give me some kind of attention? Months, Matt. I've been dying for MONTHS and you haven't cared."

"I haven't been ignoring you-"

"- please don't lie to me," you cut him off again.

The silence returned. You might have been half way out the door for months but Matt had been the one holding it open. The worst part was that you loved him to your very core and if he just said the words then - stay, don't go - or even any fucking word in the human language that hinted at a glimmer of hope, you would have thought twice. Maybe your apartment was a ghost town now but it was haunted with what used to be. Maybe there was a chance to go back to that. Just maybe. You would take maybe.

The seconds passed. One, two, three. You counted them as they went, right up until you hit sixty. The dreaded one minute mark. That was more than enough time to beg. You could have done it in thirty. But he'd said nothing. The silence now said more to you than Matt had in the last three months.

"Do you have nothing to say?" you quietly asked.

"Right," you murmured. "I'm really done then."

"Just...think about this?" Matt said. His voice wavered slightly. There it was. The thing you'd been wanting to hear. It was just one minute too late.

"Moment's passed, Matty,"

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock x you #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagines #daredevil x you #daredevil imagine #daredevil one shot #daredevil reader insert #matt murdock reader insert

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cellophaine · 11 months

Note

i dont know if you listen to lana del rey but MATT MURDOCK AND SAD GIRL BY LANA DEL REY

i need a fic based on this like i have been listening to it non stop and i cant stop thinking on him so a matt murdock angst fic with fluff with a lil smut?

Sad Girl

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, angst, smut.

Author's Note: This fic is brought to you by delusion and denial. The song has a big influence, but I made a few tweaks. Italics are flashbacks.

To Anon: yes I do listen to Lana! Quite religiously 🫣 If you read through the fic names in my masterlist, you'll see some of Lana's song titles.

Share and feedback are welcomed!

GIF Credit

"Sooo … how's it going with the guy you're seeing?"

Over the rim of your cup, you cast your watchful eyes at your friend as you took a sip of your steamed drink. Mindy's inquisitive gaze bored into you, pawing and prodding at the film of protection you projected on the particular topic. You had expected her to ask about Matt since that was where you left off the last time you saw her three months ago, even though she was your closest friend. The way you left it wasn't positive in your friend's eyes, so this time, she was adamant about the two of you catching up. You couldn't hide from her anymore, even if you tried.

You bit into the side of your cheek before releasing it; your eyes briefly darted away from Mindy's face before answering.

"It's… good."

Mindy arched a brow at your drawn-out 'good', waiting patiently as she expected you to divulge.

"It's really good. Same old, you know?"

She nodded, her eyes slightly narrowed in a way that seldomly meant something good.

"Does that mean you're still stuck in the … grey area?"

You placed your drink down a little harsher than necessary, striking a sharp sound on the delicate saucer.

"I'm not 'stuck'. It's not even a grey area; it's black and white. I chose this."

She had struck a nerve, and you didn't want to admit that to yourself.

"So you chose to be in an ambiguous relationship with a man who doesn't seem to care that much about you? Who only hits you up when he needs someone to warm his bed?"

Your casual, friends-with-benefits relationship with Matt had gone on for well over eight months. At the very beginning, you both agreed on strictly no strings attached. He would come over, you would fuck, and at the end, he would leave. It started out as a once-in-a-while thing, then once a week, and now it had almost become a nightly basis. Your closet stored some of his comfy and formal clothes, your bathroom cabinet held his own hygiene items, and your pantry was stocked with his favourite teas. Matt had slept over so often that you felt like your place was his, too. Even your first aid kit got an upgrade as you equipped it with stuff you wouldn't need yourself so you could be more prepared for any injuries he might have. You knew Matt was Daredevil, knowing the danger he might face every night. It wasn't something he could hide from you. Not for as long as Matt tried to, anyway. After your discovery of Daredevil and Matt's acceptance of the fact that you knew, you started patching him up when his nights got rough, and he began to ask for your help more often. On those nights when his injuries weren't so grave, his fucking would get rougher as the extension of his waning wrath.

"No! You're wrong. It's not like that at all. He cares about me …."

You trailed off when the doubt crept in, making you unsure of yourself. Mindy caught on to your hesitation and gave you a concerned gaze. You couldn't help it, but you wanted to prove your friend wrong. After all, it only happened three weeks ago, and the memory was still fresh in your mind.

Your boss was in a particular mood that day. He scrapped the entirety of your careful research and made you go down the police station all the way in Brooklyn to obtain the paper documents yourself. You barely made it out of work and into a cab before eleven, slouching in the back seat as the toll of the day took over. Your feet ached from the heels, and your body was riddled with tension. You were so exhausted that once you came home, you headed straight for the shower to wash off the grime and sweat; the melody of your wind chime outside on the fire escape didn't even register in your ears. After the much-needed cleanse, you settled on the couch with greasy takeout and put on your show. You didn't even notice how the wind chime had gone quiet, turning into a gentle tune momentarily before three dull knocks on the window pane startled you.

Your attention turned to the window, recognizing the silhouette outside. You only realized then that you had forgotten to take the wind chime in – the form of communication you used to signal that you were waiting for him. The melody had almost become a permanent fixture on your fire escape. You hurried to the window and ushered Matt in.

"Sorry, I totally forgot that you were coming."

You felt guilty of your own forgetfulness for giving him a false signal, but a small part of you didn't. You wanted him to stay, but you couldn't bring yourself to ask him to. It felt like a violation of your agreement. And yet, you desperately did not want to be alone that night. All the turmoil in your head quickly evaporated as Matt closed the distance, discarding his mask before he reached you and pulled you in by your waist. He planted a hungry kiss on your lips, slowly smouldering to a lingering touch. You would be lying if you said his impatience didn't turn you on. You pulled away from him, feeling embarrassed when you remembered the chow mein you had, but Matt didn't seem to mind.

"What was that for?"

Your eyes drank in the messed up hair, the glossy unsighted eyes focused a lower point on your face, and the easy smile tugged at a corner of his plump, just-kissed lips. Everything added to the boyish charm you had come to love.

"It's been a while since I last saw you. I missed you."

His confession and the way he said it with a soft smirk made you melt. Matt wasn't one for sentimental statements, but when he was in the mood for it, he always knew how to make you weak in the knees. No matter how true the admission was, he knew you knew that this was no more than a casual arrangement. Crossing the boundaries was something of a figment.

"It's only been three days."

"I know. And I still missed you all the same."

He stepped even closer, slotting one leg between your open stance before slanting his lips over yours. You couldn't help but lean into the kiss and moan; your body arched into his embrace out of second nature. His soft lips found the pulse on your neck and sucked, marking the smooth skin there as if he deemed that it was missing his mark. His hands started pulling on your clothes, making your mind run wild with the possibilities of the night. But your muscles' cry for rest was louder. For the second time that night, you gingerly pulled away from his warm embrace, and the crestfallen look on his face once you had distanced yourself almost made you regret it.

"Is something wrong?"

He asked gently. None of the whining and all of the genuine concern. You sighed, running your hands over your face.

"It's not you. It's me. I had a pretty … shitty day at work, and I … I don't feel like doing this right now."

You quickly added.

"I hope that's okay."

His immediate response untied the knot in your belly.

"Of course it's okay. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. You know that, right?"

You lowered your gaze to the ground; your voice was small and quiet.

"I do, I just don't want to disappoint you, that's all."

Matt placed a hand under your chin, lifting your face so you could look at him.

"You could never disappoint me, no matter what."

You clasped a hand around the wrist that was hovering over your collarbone. With all the courage you could muster, you begrudgingly gave voice to the inescapable outcome of the night.

"Well, I guess I'll… see you later?"

His brows furrowed as if you were speaking a language he didn't know.

"What do you mean? You're not getting rid of me that easily."

In a fell swoop, Matt picked you up. He walked to the couch, gently laid you down on the plush surface and told you to stay still. You watched with wide eyes as he disappeared into your bathroom. You heard the water running, then shutting off, and Matt appeared only to vanish into your bedroom. You peeked over the couch as you heard him rummaging around what sounded like your bedside table, helping himself to its content. Eventually, he left the bedroom with your body oil mist. You braced yourself on your elbows, apprehensive and confused, when Matt asked you to remove your sweats.

"I'm just going to give you a massage. No funny business, I promise."

He urged you to lay back as he carefully folded your clothes and put them on the armchair nearby. He loosened the knots in your muscles, kneading at your sore limbs. His hands worked with so much tenderness and patience, smoothing the oil over your skin, making sure you were relaxed and comfortable. You practically melted into the couch once he was done with you, feeling the tension had long ebbed away.

You sighed happily; the touch of appreciation sweetened your voice.

"Thank you for that."

"You don't have to thank me. I'm here for you."

Matt smiled fondly at you, which deepened the crinkles around his eyes. And then, there was a brief moment of hesitation, as if he didn't know if he should say what he wanted to say.

"Do you want me to leave?"

He finally asked, his voice soft. The question seemed so small, yet, it made your heart soar, sending a familiar serotonin rush through your veins.

"No. Stay with me, please."

Matt slid onto the couch with you, cuddling you from behind. The space was a little cramped, but you were grateful for it for the way his body pressed up against you underneath the cozy blanket. The two of you watched your favourite show together. Still, you didn't pay much attention to it as your mind tried to soak up as much of this feeling as possible until you fell asleep. When you woke the next morning, he wasn't there. Yet, something felt different now that you had a taste of what it was like to be on the other side of the thorned fence.

Despite the "developement", you still felt unsure. And Mindy could tell that.

"If he cared about you like that, why haven't you made it official? Is there something holding you back?"

You bit your lip, your head lowered as you still tether at the edge of acceptance of your situation after an even more recent event.

"Actually, yeah …"

You thought you knew him better than most people did, but maybe, it was you who knew the least of all. You thought about last week when you were tasked with writing a piece on the new up-and-coming law firm in the middle of Hell's Kitchen that took down Wilson Fisk.

It was all a coincidence, but you didn't mind getting to observe Matt on a professional level. The business plate on the wall outside looked new and polished, contrary to the inside. The building was a little dingy but functional. When Foggy Nelson welcomed you into the small office, the sight you saw was all but welcoming. The glass panes did nothing to conceal the view of Matt being awfully cozy with a gorgeous woman, who you knew was Karen Page. She straightened his tie, and Matt was saying something to her, his soft lips close to the crown of her head. Karen laughed at his words, and in return, an easy smile spread across his face. The intimate scene made you feel like you were intruding on the two of them just by looking in. A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down. It was no time for personal feelings and thoughts.

Still, the unpleasant feeling simmered and stayed with you throughout the interview until the very end. When the photographer showed up to take their photos for the newspaper, you bore witness to their intimacy once more. It was obvious to anyone that there was something between them, whether it was in the past or present. The way they held each other before your observant eyes manifested into something tangible that you could touch and couldn't compare. Their bond was something deeper than your relationship. That only aggravated your stubborn jealousy and how ashamed you felt afterward for feeling such fierce possessiveness over someone who wasn't even yours. He never was, never had been, and never would be. What you had was a casual agreement, and that was all to it. But you had to go ahead and fall for him.

The look on Mindy's face after you told her about Matt and Karen was one you knew too well. It was of pity, and you hated being on the receiving end.

"It sounds like he might have something going on with that woman. After all, you didn't agree to be mutually exclusive."

She took hold of your hand, giving it a squeeze as if to soften the blow she was about to deliver.

"I think you should reconsider your relationship. Being the other woman is not worth it, no matter how good in bed he is."

You couldn't stop the frown that formed on your lips, but you could control the trembling that almost broke in your lower lip. You jerked your hand away as if Mindy's touch seared you with shame. Your voice shook as your defensiveness raised itself around you.

"You don't know him like I do, okay? Stay out of it. I don't need your sage advice."

I don't need you to tell me how wrong I am. You wanted to say. You knew that already. Saying that out loud would mean admitting you were wrong about Matt, about the two of you, and about everything.

You grabbed your bag from the chair and walked out of the coffee shop, ignoring Mindy's calls. Your nose felt stung from the unshed tears, from the weight of your friend's words. You knew she only wanted good things for you, but she was wrong. She must be.

Even then, in your heart, you weren't so sure.

That night, you didn't think Matt would come. But you were thankful that he did. The moment you heard his familiar steps on the stairs, making his way up to you, you were already at the window, practically pulling Matt in once he reached you. You didn't even wait until he got even footing on the floor to kiss him senselessly, drawing a surprised gasp from him. He didn't seem to mind and quickly reciprocated. Moments later, your clothes were shed, letting your bare skin and laboured breaths fill the silence. Matt's hands ran all over your curves appreciatively, his lips tangled with yours fervently. He whispered on your lips when you parted to breathe.

"I missed you."

You heard that, Mindy? He said he missed me.

"I missed you too."

Your words drawled into a soft moan as he took your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled slightly. His hand settled on your ass, urging you to jump into his arms like you always would, and you did. The proof of his need for you pressed against your stomach, hard and unyielding. Matt shifted you in his arms, and you used the movement to graze your slick core around his shaft. Your arousal smeared on his length, and you couldn't stop the gasp at the feeling of him so close to your entrance. Matt found your bedroom easily and fell onto the soft sheets with you. You scuttled back to make room, and he followed you. You held yourself up by your elbows; a shiver ran through your body as you watched him stroke his cock a few times before teasing your entrance. His tip touched your wet folds, dragging and spreading the slickness along the slit. He stimulated your clit with his velvet head, and you whimpered at how good it felt. As you parted your lips to tell him to stop teasing you, he plunged in without warning, and the complaint from your throat became a blissed moan.

Matt stopped for a moment after fully sheathed inside you, his face tilted towards yours, allowing you to drink in the pure euphoria on his face. His mouth was open-slacked, his brows curved up in an acute focus of relief, his unsighted eyes lost in the heaven you shared. You rocked your hip to meet his, only to be stopped with his hands on your waist, his hold tight, but not enough to leave bruises.

"If you keep moving like that, I won't last very long."

You nudged your heel against his ass, and your thighs squeezed his hips like an invitation.

"I don't care. I need you. Please."

Something shifted in him when you begged, and your prayer was answered with a withdrawal and hard thrust of his hips. You cried out, letting yourself fall back on the mattress and allowing Matt to pound into you. Each delicious thrust brought you closer to the edge, but you used all of your willpower to hold on. You wanted to finish with him. Matt's body covered yours as he nudged your head to rest on the crook of his arm. He caged you in, encompassing you in a cocoon that was him. His fingers wove into your hair, pulling the strands slightly to draw out your moans. His face hovered over yours, and with the barely-there distance, you felt like you were observing a piece of art reserved for your eyes only. Matt was all-consuming, demanding your attention and submission in every sense possible. All you saw was his beautiful face, all you heard was his lustful cries, and all you felt was his fullness inside you, stealing your breaths. You succumbed to him fully, worshipping him with everything that was attached to your mortal shell.

Your cries of pleasure intertwined with his created a beautiful melody of primal desires. Your hands clawed at his back, without a doubt making marks. Matt only groaned louder at the claim you made on his back, enjoying the pain you inflicted on him. As you neared your end, your core clenched hard, and his thrusts only got rougher at the tell-tale sign of your finish line. You could feel how close he was with the way his pace stuttered. You took hold of his chin, and Matt took a brief moment to kiss your thumb.

"Let go. I've got you."

You whispered breathlessly as his deep strokes made it hard to talk. Matt drew your thumb into his mouth and bit on it, but it did little to muffle his grunts of release. The feeling of him filling you up triggered your own orgasm as you came with him. The white-hot pleasure made you arch your back, making your pebbled nipples graze his broad chest. Matt's hand came down to grope at one breast, massaging and playing with your nipple, making you gasp, moan, and writhe at the sensation. He dipped his head to the hardened peak and soothed its ache with the warmth of his mouth as if to apologize for the lack of attention he paid. When you finally came down from the high, Matt whisked you into a breathless, lingering kiss as if he never wanted it to end. You happily reciprocated, and at that moment, it really felt like he might have feelings for you.

A little while later, after Matt had helped you settle in bed and fetched you some water, he slipped into the spot beside you, nudging your head to rest on his chest. His fingers caressed your arm, raising goosebumps on your skin. You played with the ridges of his abs; your blissful mind ran wild with all the possibilities and hypotheses. You felt something different tonight, just like that night when he cuddled you to sleep.

"Hey, I was wondering …."

He hummed in reply, waiting for you to continue.

"We've been doing this for a while, and I … I wonder if anything has changed."

His hand still kept a steady rhythm on your arm.

"What has changed?"

"Us. Our relationship."

Matt turned his face towards you, and your heart chipped a little at the confusion. He took a moment before answering you.

"We both agreed on being strictly casual. So … no, nothing has changed."

The crack on your heart turned into splinters that kept falling down like a flimsy house of cards, and you weren't fast enough to catch all the pieces. Of course, Mindy was right. You were such a fool. How could you hope for something different after all this time?

"Where was my memo on this thing?"

Matt chuckled softly, seeming to please with the little joke he made. Even though his body was warm, you only felt colder than ever. You slowly removed yourself from him as if Matt had grown thorns, and every movement hurt. Once you left the bed, Matt braced himself on one elbow, an easy, nonchalant, suggestive air about him.

"Are you freshening up for round two?"

You sighed heavily.

"No, I'm tired, and I would like to go to bed."

When Matt didn't say anything, you quickly added.

"Besides, I have to get up early tomorrow."

It was not exactly the truth, but a half-lie would do just fine. It seemed like Matt got the hint as he got up and searched for his scattered clothes on the floor. Once decent, he made his way to you at the window sill; his hand reached out to touch your elbow.

"Are we okay?"

He asked with a touch of hesitation. You huffed an indulgent chuckle.

"Yes. We're okay. I've had a long day, with a lot to think about."

You forced yourself to smile, even though he couldn't see it. It was more for you, so you wouldn't physically surrender to the turmoil inside. Matt kissed your cheek softly, and you did everything not to avoid his affection.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

He left your apartment with the promise, one that you wouldn't blame him for not keeping. You stayed up until the morning, and throughout the day, you allowed everything Mindy said to torment you, driving and twisting the knife further until your heart was a mangled, broken piece of decoration in your chest. And you knew you deserved every single cut. You weren't stupid; you knew that you were in the wrong. You were blinded by the possibility of Matt reciprocating your feelings that you were all too happy to be the other woman despite all the red lights. But the answer he gave you last night was definite. There was no future for the two of you that wouldn't end in a crash and burn.

That night, your fire escape was dead quiet for the first time in months. You were home; Matt could tell by the rhythm of your heart inside your cozy place. No matter how many times he called your name and knocked on your window, you wouldn't welcome him in like you usually would. Matt left the bundle of flowers he brought you at your fire escape that night. They would stay where they were as he felt them wither away every night until they ceased to exist.

*Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!*

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ddejavvu · 5 months

Text

m.list - matt murdock

blurbs:

you interrupt matt's patrol

matt's tired after patrol

you like matt's chest hair

professor!matt

showering with matt

matt + "where did your clothes go?"

prince!matt

kidnapper!matt

matt + edging

matt + enemies to lovers

stalker!matt | 2

matt comforting you after a nightmare

you're insecure during sex

matt notices your harmful habits

matt cuddles you on your period

mafia!matt

matt learns to braid

patching matt up after patrol

priest!matt

roommate!matt

matt + rivals to lovers

matt makes a better second impression

your dog likes matt's seeing eye dog

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berrieluv · 1 year

Text

cw. sex, fights and man thinking they're in the right when they're not. I enjoyed writing this silly things about matt murdock, who's my current obsession in this little break I had for Día de los muertos, tomorrow I'm back at school and work :c

"... and there isn't a small part of yourself that tells you; and listen, this may sound incredible insane" Karen continued with a bit of sarcasm in her voice after Matt shut up for a second after complaining for ten minutes straight "But maybe you're wrong?"

Matt looked at her and mocked her, because how could he be wrong.

Y/N isn't sleeping at my place at the moment.

Was what started all this talk. Foggy asked why the place suddenly felt quiet and dark when he got used to having your colored stuff around and your voice echoing the brick walls.

"How can I be wrong, she's the dumb one"

He simply asked, as if Karen's accusations were completely out of this world.

"Maybe you could start respecting her, and you wouldn't be in this situation"

She hasn't talk to me in two weeks.

Matt said, trying to look as it didn't bothered him when in reality he had no idea on what to do with himself. He got so use to you being there to put him back together that now that he was by his own again he didn't know what to do.

"I respect her..." He started, and Karen looked at him, incredulous "I don't call her dumb in her face"

"Is not... Is not how you direct at her but how you express yourself of the one you love in front of other what is a key on respect" Matt groaned, as if it was the most complicated thing to do. "Everyone like their partner talking wonders about them, I can tell you she does. You're a hero for her"

"I'm kind of a hero"

"You're an imbecile"

You helped Matt inside his apartment and drop his arm as soon as the door was closed, his face is 'looking' at your direction and you see him frown.

"Are you mad at me or something?" He started, and you look at him incredulous, forgetting he can't see the look in your face "You haven't talk to me the whole way here"

You revolved around the place, picking up some of your things and trying to ease your anger. Knowing it wouldn't take you far to speak to Matt like that.

"Why were you making fun of me the whole night?"

You ask, calmly, trying to maintain yourself together. He hates when you do that, he hates how you start those type of questions with a 'why', with a low and almost breaking voice, as if he had been wrong, as if anything he does is enough for you. Trying to get him to feel guilty about the way he decides to express himself, trying to make him feel guilty about being him.

"You disrespected me... In front of people who are, incredible important for me... for my job"

He is about to talk and you cut him, knowing he's about to excuse himself, as if you knew he wasn't thinking of an apology "Is almost as you don't think I'm good at what I do"

"Darling..." He starts, mocking, "You're an assistant" You open your mouth and look at him with a frown "You- you can't be possible be good at your job... you're just... at your job"

You were done. You closed your mouth and started packing the things you left there just last night, knowing Matt could sense you moving around and not talking to him, making him go crazy because he heard your heart racing fast but he didn't know what you were thinking, how you felt about the, well, the truth he just said. Because he was firmly believing it was the truth.

"And for the record... My job really is important... I– I do a lot of things Matt and if you were paying attention and weren't too busy in mocking me you would've heard that I am up for a promotion. I– I'm next to have my own office and– why am I bothering explaining this to you" you say when you look the stupid smile planted in his face, as if he was waiting for you to finish and disregard any feelings you have towards this "You wouldn't get shit done without Karen, your assistant"

"Karen isn't–"

"God, shut up!" You raise your voice, throwing a mascara to his face, a bit disappointed that he stopped it before it could hit his face. You wanted to hurt him the same way he was hurting you "I'm tired of... of everything, of people telling I'm too dumb to notice things, of people thinking I'm just made to be someone's pretty wife when I'm– I'm so much more than that..." you sigh "I know, I know I can be dumb but I'm so smart, I'm so dedicated and hardworking and pretty and if people started to focus less in the last part and start acknowledging the others..."

"Baby, you don't even need to work. You're stressing yourself over nothing" He starts, missing completely the point of your speech "I'm making a lot of money, and when Nelson and Murdock is on its peak I'll be able to buy you everything you want"

He smiles, as if he just said the thing you wanted to hear, and the worst of this is that he was proud of what he just said.

You stop talking, tired, knowing he couldn't possibly understand because he was a smart, handsome white man, things came served in silver tray for him.

You get close to him, bags in hand but he can't possibly know that, he just smiles at your closeness, your heartbeat slower this time and next thing he knows his back is arching and his hands go straight to his crotch. You knew damn well it wasn't fair from you to hit a blind man, but you didn't hit him because he was blind, you did it because he was an asshole.

"I'll be back when you learn to respect me. My feelings and what I do. When you show me you know I'm not a trophy and just like you I want to be showed off for my merits and not just for being your pretty little bimbo girlfriend"

Of course Matt didn't tell the story like that to his friends. And he didn't acknowledge the mascara still laying on the floor, he knew it was somewhere around the apartment, he has step on it a few times, but he believed you had to come and pick it up, since you were the one who left it there.

"Why don't you apologize" Foggy said, eating from the Chinese food that was delivered, knowing that if you were they would be eating one of the best home-cooked meals. "I mean, you were kinda wrong"

Matt looked at him, incredulous "How- How was I wrong? For lighting up the place with my jokes and stealing the spotlight? I'm sorry I'm funny and handsome"

"I just don't think that was happened" Karen said.

"What kind of jokes were you making?" Foggy asked, with the fork pointing at Matt "Because I just know you're not good at jokes if they're not to make fun about people"

Matt gets suddenly nervous, maybe his mistake was saying the word 'joke' in the conversation.

"Oh, God, Matt" Karen said again "You fucking asshole"

Matt liked to make fun of you. Everyone knew that, and most of the time they were harmless jokes, even you laughed at them, and the moments you pouted Matt would kiss you, reassuring you that you were the best thing that happened to him, and he couldn't be happier.

So he didn't know what went wrong this time. Maybe it was your uncomfortable look telling him, begging him, to stop. Maybe it was how you pulled away from his kisses, trying to show a professional behavior to the people around. Maybe it was how you murmured a little 'stop it' in his ear, with a fake smile he couldn't see and a tone of anger in your voice. Or maybe it was how you dragged him away from the people and asked him to stop with the tasteless jokes. But how was he supposed to read your mind.

"Maybe I was wrong" He says, starting to repeat the events of the night in his head, and not knowing how all your signs of discomfort passed by him. "God, I was an ass"

You hated spending time alone. You hated how big your department was and you hated how your dad called you every five fucking minutes to ask why Matt wasn't around.

You hated how Matt wasn't there to hug you from behind and leave a walk of kisses on your neck while you were working, you hated how much you missed him and how much you wanted to run to him and forget everything that happened.

But he deserved this. And if he wasn't one to apologize this time, and show you he was mature enough to be in a relationship, maybe this was the end of you both. Because you couldn't possibly picture yourself in a relationship where you had to admit you were wrong because he couldn't possibly grab his balls and accept he wasn't in the right.

Your bell rings and you let it go, thinking it was the packages you ordered, then it goes again, and again, this time more insistent. And you rolled your eyes at the insistence.

When you open the door the first thing you see is Matt, standing with ordinary clothes, a tight shirt, making his muscles notorious and reminding you why you didn't last much mad at him. You were lucky he was wearing a loose suit that day. You cross your arms and look at him.

"What do you want, Matthew"

"I'm sorry" He starts, and that's the only thing you wanted to hear, but it took him two weeks, and now it wasn't enough. "I'm really sorry I– I disrespected you and I shouldn't have done that and I, I know you're mad but you said you will be here when I learned my lesson and I, I really love you"

"Yeah, good for you" You start. Still on the door frame, not making space for him to go in or inviting him.

"I really mean it, Y/N. I was an asshole and it took me too long to realize it and– You know I'm not good with... feelings"

"Oh, no, you're amazing at feelings, Matthew. You fall in love with every girl who talks nice to you and shows you a bit of decency, hell you even fall in love with those who doesn't, you're a manwhore. So don't come to me saying feelings aren't your thing because I just know they are"

"I–"

"You need to learn to admit you're wrong"

"I was wrong"

You look at him and sigh, you wanted to hear a sincere 'I was wrong', you wanted him to be really sorry, to show you he could grown into a man who admits his mistakes, a husband, maybe a father.

"How can I believe it when you don't believe it yourself?" He quickly falls at his knees and you look around, it's not everyday that you have Matt Murdock, the Daredevil, begging on his knees. "Don't be ridiculous, Matthew. You look pathetic"

"Baby, baby, baby..." He prays, hugging your arms and murmuring 'sorry' a thousand times.

"Get up"

And he does, after saying 'Anything you want' and taking your face in his hands. "How can I make this better? How can I make you believe me?"

And you believed him, because Matt wasn't one to tell you lies. He has never lie about anything in your relationship and you couldn't get to believe he would start today. Because if he decided to lie over this fight, he would've done it days ago, but he took his time, he worked in his case and got to realize he was really wrong. But you loved seeing a pretty man in pain.

"Matt, get in" You told him, and he obeyed, and just as quickly as the door closed your lips were in his. Wildly devouring him, taking his face with both of your hands and showing him how much you missed him.

Your hands hit his when he tries to touch you. You guide him to the couch and throw him there, getting rid of your pajamas shorts and pushing his chest so his back was touching the couch again. Matt could smell your arousal, your neediness, and he grinned, proud of himself.

You take his glasses and throw them to some place in your department, hoping they break so he would finally get another ones. A pretty ones this time.

Now your hands are on the base of the couch and your pussy's on Matt's face, and he eats it, like a starved man, which he kinda was, he haven't taste you in so long he needed this.

He didn't complain, he couldn't possibly know you were about to ride his face, but how could he say anything about it, when his hands were holding your hips, making sure they were leaving marks.

He moved his hands to your thighs and caressed them, completely forgetting Foggy and Karen where downstairs in the car, waiting for him to tell them if he made it right or things were finally over.

You started moaning louder, knowing Matt hated when you tried to be silent. Your chest rests in the wall of the couch while Matt keeps moving his tongue down there, tasting your wetness and making you cum. This time in surprise, no adverting him, not asking for permission because this was for your pleasure, and it was for you to do what you wanted, you needed him to understand control could play both parts.

When you need to get down, feeling your sore pussy begging for him to stop, he holds your thighs stronger and continues eating you out, your body shaking, and he knows what he's doing, because he knows your body and he knows how sensitive you get after coming.

"Need you, baby" He says "Need you in my cock"

You shake your hand, this wasn't about him and what he needed, and he didn't seem to understand it yet.

"We do what I want this time, Matt" You moan "We– ugh, fuck– you do what I want"

He nods, getting your pussy off his face and coming closer to yours, kissing your lips and putting one of his hands in your neck.

"What do you need, princess? What do you want, my love?" And he knew what it was, his cock, but it needed to be cleared that this was because you needed it, and not him. "You need my cock, don't you? My pretty baby needs my cock? You– fuck you got it, princess. You need my cock just take it, it's yours and only yours"

You're quick to lower his sweatpants to his knees, being greet by his big and pink cock looking at you, your mouth drools and you can't decide if you want it in your mouth or your pussy first.

"Let me fill you up, doll" He says when you start taking his cock in your pussy "Fuck, fuck, you, you're so good at this"

You chuckle, because you were barely moving but he was so needy it was almost funny. It would be funny if you weren't in the same state. And you could mock him, but you would be spitting up.

"Matt..." You start "I need you to understand, fuck, that you can't be thinking things for this long I– I need you to know what you want and where– God, yes, yes, like that– where, where we stand"

"I love you" He thrusts into you "I love you and–" He thrusts again, this time his finger was in your clit, circling it and making imposible for you to keep your eyes open "And I'm sorry, I was, I was wrong. I was wrong and you were right"

And know you understood why man loved being right, why they loved dominating over anything, because Matt saying out loud what you already knew was hotter than anything you've get him to say.

"Say it again"

He frowned, and you repeated your words "You– you were right?" You moan "You were right and I was wrong" He says as he feels you riding him faster "I was so wrong, princess. I'm so–sorry, you were right"

You moan and nod, resting your hands in his soft chest and impulsing yourself to go faster, making Matt moan when his cum finally taints your walls.

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

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marvelouslizzie · 1 year

Text

Marvelous Lizzie’s Masterlist

DISCLAIMER

All of my work is intended for readers above 18+. MINORS DNI. Please read the warnings before starting the story. I take no responsibility if you skip the warnings.

All my stories are organized from oldest to newest in each category.

You can find all my work also on my ao3 account.

🔥 - Smut 💔 - Angst 🌸 - Fluff

Bucky Barnes x Reader

i wanna ruin our friendship 🔥 💔🌸 Celebrity!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

are you mine? 🔥 💔 Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

just let me make you feel better 🔥🌸 Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

unconventional methods [complete] 🔥💔 Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Adult Content Creator!Reader

no one else matters 🔥 Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Steve Rogers x Female Reader (in the past)

you're my desire series [complete]- co-written with @notafunkiller 🔥🌸 40s!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

love me like you paid me - co-written with @notafunkiller 🔥🌸💔 Dilf!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

not a study date - 🔥🌸💔 College!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

you’re stuck with me - co-written with @notafunkiller 🔥💔 Revenge Sex!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

you were mine just yesterday - co-written with @notafunkiller 🔥💔 Ex Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Lonely Night series [Complete] - 🔥 Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Like Someone I Know -🔥 A Little Sequal 🌸 College!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Why Are You Doing This To Me? - 💔 Ex!Rockstar!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Pretty Little Thing - co-written with @notafunkiller 🔥 Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

I’m Not Sure If I Can Do This - 🔥🌸 Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

One More Night - 🔥💔🌸 Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Matt Murdock x Jennifer Walters

one thing leads to another - on ao3 🔥

better than I imagined - 🔥

Updated: 29.03.2024

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lotrefcp · 1 month

Text

A Matt Murdock One-Shot

pairing/AU: Matt Murdock x female!reader

summary: Matt asks to "see" you

warnings: none really, I don't think,...

word count: 1557

Foggy and Karen had already left, after dinner at Matt's house, but you were still there, sitting next to him on the couch. After the meal, everyone gathered in the living room to catch up, especially with you, as the other three worked together. You met the group of friends when you started working in the office next to theirs, starting to meet daily, when arriving or leaving work or during meal times and quickly joined the trio, participating in their usual trips to Josie's or in the various meetings arranged at one of their houses or, after a while, at yours.

Matt was facing your direction, arm placed on the back of the couch, and his gaze rested at more or less level with your chin. You didn't know why he asked you to stay when you were preparing to say goodbye to him at the same time as the other two and, at that moment, with the silence that reigned in the space and with the attention he gave you in that position, the anxiety started to build up inside you. Matt could hear your pulse quickening, the heat rising to your face.

“Y/N...”, he started to say.

“Matt...”, you replied lightly.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

"Of course. Anything.”, you said with relief in your voice, although it was short-lived.

“”Can I see you?”, he asked, lifting his face a little, trying to find the position of your eyes.

“If you can see me? I wish you could.” Matt chuckled softly.

“What I want to ask is if I can touch your face, see you in my own way.”, he explained. Your heart began to pump the blood that coursed through your veins much faster. He easily realized this. “But if you don’t want to, that’s... that’s okay.”, he quickly added. “I know you don’t like physical contact, but...”

"What do you mean by that? That I don’t like physical contact.”

“Y/N, I may be blind but I’m not completely oblivious to what’s going on around me. Whenever I place my hand on yours when we're talking, or rest it on your leg to draw your attention to something, you move away, you withdraw. And I don't want to abuse it, but we've known each other for months and I have no idea what you look like.”, he continued.

"I don’t to that. You can ask anyone. I never withdraw from anyone’s touch.” Matt noticed a small hesitation at the end of your last sentence. He realized that you weren't lying but that this wasn't the whole truth either. “And regarding my appearance, it is better for you to remain ignorant about that. I'm no Karen or Marci. I’m the “sore thumb” of the group that stands out everywhere.”

"What?"

"Yes. You are all beautiful, with a self-esteem to be envied. But I'm not like that. Quite the opposite. I'm the one who stays behind when friends are invited for a drink, the one who sits at the table when everyone else finds company to dance. And I never had a problem with that.”

"But..."

“But it's nice to be with someone without having to think about the way my nose wrinkles when I smile, or without having to cover my profile when I'm looking to the side, without having to think that they're looking at me with pity or with displeasure.”

“Don’t think like that. I may not know what your face looks like but I know that what you’re saying is not true.”

“Oh, you know? With your telepathic powers?”, you replied while trying to make your laughter lighten the atmosphere. Matt didn't know how to respond. You didn't know about his abilities and he didn't want to scare you with the truth. After thinking for a while, he finally spoke again.

“Because I hear what the people around us say about you when we are on the street, I can see the smile of the men in your direction.”

“Do you listen to other people’s conversations? Do you know that’s bad manners, right?”

“Unfortunately I can’t control it. Have you never heard that when you lose one sense, the others become stronger?”

"Are you serious? You can hear what others say, even if they’re not next to you.”

"Yes, I can."

“Okay.”, you said with some hesitation. “But you can't be sure that what they say is about me. There are always so many women around you, beautiful women. You look like a magnet. They could be talking about any of them.”

“Yes they could, you’re right, but they’re not. But you give me one more reason to want to “see” you. To make sure they are talking about you.”

"I don't know."

“Didn’t you say that you don’t have any problems with people touching you? So, what's the harm? I am your friend regardless of your appearance. I just wanted to get to know you better.”

“Yes, I’m not afraid of being touched but...”

"But what?"

"... Nothing. But nothing.”, you ended up saying after thinking about how to approach the subject. “If you insist so much, ok, you can touch my face.”, you finished, looking down at the space between the two of you on the sofa, which, little by little, became smaller. He approached you and, taking off the glasses that covered his eyes and placing them on the living room table, he raised his arms towards you. And, seeing him so close to you, with his eyes freed from the red lenses of his glasses, you felt your face get even redder and your heartbeat speeding up even more. Never before did you think it could beat so fast. Once again, Matt noticed the acceleration of your heart and finally realized something. You hadn't lied, you didn’t run away from people's touch, you had run away from his touch. You ran away from your reaction to the contact with him, with his skin, with the weight of his hand on your hand, on your leg. This thought made a smile appear on his lips. And finally his hands brushed your face. Gently he ran the tips of his fingers across your forehead, with his thumbs outlining your chin, then going to the apples of your cheeks. Without realizing it, you closed your eyes at the sensation of his touch. He continued running his fingers over your closed eyelids and down your nose. He let out a small laugh that made you turn your face away from him. "Don’t, sorry. Don’t walk away.”

“Why are you laughing?”

“Nothing, don’t worry. I just realized that you actually have a bump on your nose.”

“I told you I had a crooked nose, that I had an terrible profile.”

"It's perfect."

“What?”

“The bump on your nose. It's perfect." He placed his hands on your face again, continuing to feel every millimeter of your skin. “Every bit of your face is perfect. Even what you consider imperfect. Beautiful."

"Don’t say that. It’s not true." His fingers then began to venture across your lips, making you open your mouth slightly. “Matt?”

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

“Do you know how long I’ve been imagining your lips, their softness, their taste?”

“What?”, you asked, trying to move your face away again, the burning in your chest increasing, but he placed a hand on either side of your cheeks, preventing you from running away again. He was now sure that you wanted him as much as he wanted you and he wasn't going to let you escape any longer.

You could see his lips approaching you, his breath warming your mouth. And slowly, his mouth touched yours. So soft, so full. When your mouths moved away from each other you could see the concern on his face. You hadn't responded to the kiss.

"Sorry. I shouldn’t have done this.”, Matt said, nerves getting the best of him.

"You shouldn’t?"

“Do you think I should? You didn’t respond to the kiss.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“No, I misread the situation. This shouldn't have happened. I apologize."

“Stop apologizing.”

“But then…”

“But then my brain froze. It's still a little slow. I think I need one more try to see if it can process the situation.” Matt smiled brightly. “Do you see why I ran away from your touch? Because my brain couldn't process everything I felt. And I didn’t like feeling that way, especially knowing that the feeling wasn’t reciprocated.”

“And I'm always trying to touch you to feel that same way.” And saying this he advanced on you again, taking possession of your lips once more. This time your hands rested on his chest and he placed his on the back of your neck, his fingers mixing with your hair. His tongue began to gently force its way into your mouth and soon they met in one movement of their own, savoring each moment as if this first time would be the last. When you were running out of breath, he moved away from you and, raising his face a little more, placed a kiss on your forehead, then letting you rest your face on his chest, a smile occupying the lips that just a few seconds ago were his.

“You really are perfect.”, he ended up saying, holding you against him.

#daredevil #daredevil marvel #matt murdock short #matt murdock x reader #charlie cox #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #daredevil fanfic #matt murdock one shot

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 8 months

Note

(I feel kinda shy but I rllly need smt smutty jsjs)

Imagine the reader purposely buying some sort of pheromone perfume (ik they dont rlly work in real life but for the sake of the request they do🫡🔥) and cause matt has high senses he is quite turned on by that. She works at the law firm, and he tries to control himself, but after some weeks, he can not do that anymore. (The reader and Matt are already dating, and she does this as a way of teasing him).

UwU mercii

hii!! never be shy around here, ask for whatever it is you wanna read. also I feel kinda mean sorry in advance, this drabble is like im gonna edge you all (sorry if that’s gross to say😭😭) not necessarily smut per-say, just teasing and kinda suggestive. but I have wrote office smut if that’s more up your alley, I just don’t remember what it’s called😭 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

…

(un)lucky number seven

matt murdock x fem!reader

word count: 601

warnings: suggestive and teasing

✧.┊ MASTERLIST

You love to tease Matt. It's simple, really. Nothing else to it. You loved to work him up and have him wrapped around your finger.

So, two weeks ago, when you browsed the perfume department, you stumbled upon a selection of pheromones. You knew that they were often iffy, but with Matt's heightened senses, you were sure to get some kind of a reaction. You picked it up with a mischievous grin and went to the checkout to pay.

Since then, you've been wearing small amounts of the perfume when you were around Matt- which was almost all the time, considering you worked together too. You increased the spritzes every few days to see how much you could get away with before getting a reaction.

Today, you were wearing seven sprays of the alluring perfume and were hoping to get a response, something, anything. You wanted Matt to crack, so you pulled out the big guns.

Foggy and Karen were out collecting lunch, so it left you and Matt together at the office, left to your own devices.

You knock on the inside of Matt's door. "Where do you want these papers, boss," you tease, purposely wafting the papers against you as you walk into his office. "Finished them, just like you asked."

"Thanks," he nods, avoiding you and your games. "Put them with the others."

"I think we should have a break," you suggest, dragging a chair to sit in front of his desk. "You seem a little tense today."

"No, I'm fine," he brushes you off, ignoring your advances. He loosens his tie and then rolls his sleeves. "Just warm."

"Yeah, it is pretty hot today," you say, a slight breathy tone to your voice. "Meant to be like it for a few days." You tempt, ignoring his counter attempts of turning you on.

He stands, walking around his desk to sit at the edge facing you. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you say weakly, swallowing thickly when he pushes back his hair, subtly flexing his arms. "Supposed to be very hot," you say almost pathetically, steading your breathing.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" he grins, head cocking to the side in amusement.

"Nothing, nothing," you reply, shaking your head as you gathered your things to leave. "I'll let you be."

"Stay," he whispers, halting your movements with an open palm. "You wanted a break, right?" he stands again and places his hands either side of your shoulders, gently pushing you back into your chair. "What's wrong? Don't like being on the receiving end?"

You slowly shake your head. Your breaths grow heavy and strained, looking up at Matt as he leans over you with his signature smile slapped on his face.

"Is that no?" he mocks, quietly speaking as he hovers against your lips. "Not so nice, now is it?"

"No," you admit, whispering.

He lingers to your lips, mimicking a light kiss as his hand faintly trails up your throat. "Exactly," he whispers back, grazing his spare hand over your thigh. "Better get back to work. They're back." Matt nods to the door, counting up on his fingers until the door swings open.

You mumble a curse under your breath and stand, collecting yourself and your papers. "So that's the part I need to correct?" you lie, speaking loud enough for Foggy and Karen to hear.

"Yeah, change those parts, then it's perfect," Matt nods. "Mine. After work." He whispers to you, hiding his mouth behind his fist.

"You got it," you reply, your tone perky and upbeat as you leave his office. "Oh, hey, guys, I didn't see you there."

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

#matt murdock #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock drabble #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x you #matthew murdock #daredevil

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 11 months

Text

breakfast in bed

a/n: idk what to tell you, this is just a cute (horny) and domestic morning with matt.

warnings: matt murdock x reader, smut, established relationship, morning sex, kissing, oral, fingering, protected sex, penetrative sex, dirty talk, overstimulation, idk matt being late to court

word count: 2345

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Bright morning light streamed in through the large windows and caused your eyes to immediately squint as they began to blink open.

“Morning,” you heard your boyfriend hum, his chest vibrating underneath your cheek.

A lazy smile seeping over your features, you turned your head to squish your face further into his warm skin, “good morning,” wanting so desperately to stay here forever.

The remanence of last night’s activities still lingered between your legs as you pressed your body further into his, surely painting his thigh with the sticky memory as your left leg curled up over his. Grinding unconsciously against him in a fit of morning bliss, you turned out to be more sensitive than you had thought following the fun that had put you to sleep the previous night, your sore centre barely needing any reminding before it was trembling in want. Without even realising it, your lips began a lazy trail up Matt’s torso, the feathery touch of your adoring kisses made his hands roam down over your duvet-covered body.

“Come here,” his palm found your cheek and ushered you the rest of the way up, drawing your lips to his in a tender kiss. Feeling his fingers dip down under the covers, they curved around the plump of your ass with a needy knead on the way.

You whimpered against his tongue as his fingertips swept through your soppy petals, your head falling back a bit as your heavy lids blinked up at him. With upturned brows, you parted your legs more, granting him better access.

His strong arm, reaching down, flexing against your body and determinedly craning to reach the spots he so wished to touch, invoked a sloppy-sounding symphony that caused a soft chuckle to rumble within him in contentment.

“You hungry?” you asked shakily as a long finger methodically popped all the way in and out of your quivering hole.

His other hand buried in your hair, Matt stole another kiss before growling, “fucking starving,” clearly not talking about his desire for food.

Slowly raising yourself up on your hands and knees above his resting form, his touch never faulting, you suggested, “I could make us breakfast if you want,” your hips rocking into his touch as your body screamed for more.

A warm smile blooming at your sweet offer, “with what food in my fridge?” he pointed out the sparseness of his kitchen.

“Well, you never know,” you braced yourself against his chest as you tried to crawl over him to get up, “maybe I could whip something delicious up out of the stale takeout you undoubtedly have in there.”

“Maybe,” he drew out and craned his neck to nibble at your side, “or maybe you could just let me have a bit of breakfast in bed,” his grasp seized your form before it could disappear and flipped you further around.

“Matthew!” you shrieked, hovering a second above his face before his burly arms curled up and over your hips and drew your dripping mess down for him to have a taste, close enough for him to practically suffocate on your goodness, “you-, fuck…” your eyes quickly rolled to the back of your skull as his tongue turned your whole body into jelly atop of him.

Fingers clenching the covers that now only haphazardly covered him, like a stretching cat you reached down and palmed the excitement tenting the fluffy duvet, earning a broad smack to your bottom that made your back arch.

With the trembling of your thighs, you grew impatient and hastily reached to the bedside table, yanking the slim drawer open. Frantically, you snatched up a little foil packet and brought it to your other hand to try and rip it open.

The smooth wrapper slipping between your fingers, you grumbled, “god dammit, fuck!” and desperately brought it up between your teeth as Matt’s laughter vibrated against your clit. Finally getting it open and nearly dropping the condom in the frantic process, you pushed back the rest of the covers and let your upper body slump further down to press against his.

Teeth digging into your bottom lip, your fingers curled around your partner’s girth, your lips still too far to kiss the dewdrop at the tip away, you stuck out your tongue and just barely managed to swipe it against the raging vein snaking up from the fussy base. Quickly rolling the latex on, you slid a palm down your side till it curved over the hands still groping your behind. Lacing your fingers in his, he reluctantly let your puffy pearl go with a pop and helped rotate your form back around.

Clutching his hand tight in yours, you sank down on his length. In unison, both of you let out a needy gasp as you made your slow way down to the base, eventually bottoming out and resting there a moment, legs trembling on either side of his hips as you both reeled in the sensation.

Desperately, your hips began to roll against his, “fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned as one of his hands slid up your form and found the slope of your tit, catching the weight in his palm.

“Matt,” you moaned, your wild bedhead surrounding you like a curtain as you swore you felt a trickle of drool drip down from the corner of your parted lips, too blissed out to truly notice. Your hand flexing in his, you lifted it up to your lips and sloppily planted a kiss on the fingers encompassing yours, one of them extending a moment to stroke your cheek.

“That’s it, baby,” his left hand abandoned the jiggle of your boob and drifted down to clutch your hip, “ride it out, just like that,” he didn’t aid your movements as much as just settled into a front row seat, “nice and slow,” fingers hungrily indenting in your soft flesh.

As you sluggishly continued to bounce in his lap, a pout couldn’t help but appear on your lips as your still drowsy body just couldn’t keep up with your ambitious desires, leaving you a whining mess on top of him as your sleepy efforts just wasn’t enough.

“Matt.”

“What, sweetheart?” he chuckled at your light-hearted cry for help.

“I can’t, I’m too-…” you blubbered through your soft moans, “can you please help me?”

“Aw, you want my help?” he purred in a mocking tone, only moving to settle further down against the pillows.

“Please,” you frustratingly begged, trembling on top of him like a leaf, “I feel so useless still being half asleep.”

“Oh, I think you’re adorable like this,” his fingers ghosted over your skin, causing you to shiver.

“Matt, please. I wanna cum so bad.”

Only enjoying your sloppy efforts a second longer, he then utilised his brawny skills and flipped you over, rolling on top of you as you sank down into the mattress. Haven slipped out of your drooling cunt in the process, the vigilante wasted no time burying himself once more, thrusting up into you with such efforts that you swore you saw the stars themselves even though the sun had long ago risen.

“That better?” he asked cockily, nudging his nose against yours as his strong forearms came to rest on either side of your head, his pelvis ending each motion with a tickle at your clit.

Shakily, your limbs wrapped around his form, “f-fuck,” as his hard thrusts just about put you to sleep again with how mind-numbingly perfect they felt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” he teased, bucking up into you in a way that made your body jolt, nearly pushing you far enough up for your head to collide with the wall.

“Y-y-you’re-,” the whole bedroom went fuzzy as you finally felt the end near, “holy shit!”

Attempting a chuckle through his laboured grunts, “take that as a yes,” he captured your lips again, swallowing your lewd moans and mixing them with his own.

Letting one of your hands, clutching his neck for support, snake down between your bodies, you inadvertently bit down upon Matt’s swollen bottom lip as your fingers began a fierce dance over your clit. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind as it only extracted a more guttural groan from his throat.

“Fuck, just like that, just like that,” you panted, sharing his breath as you felt yourself tumble over the edge, “don’t stop!”

Body quivering beneath his, you held onto dear life as he too rode out his high, turning your moans into screams as he only increased his pace, making you buck beneath him from the overstimulation.

Finally coming to a standstill deep within you, for a moment everything seemed perfect as you slowly crawled back from the depth with each synchronized breath.

“You know what?” you mumbled, your breath still heavy as Matt lazily planted a smattering of kisses along your jaw, “I retract my offer,” your fingers lightly traced the definitions along his spine, “I no longer have the energy to make you breakfast.”

A warm giggle bubbling out of him, “I think I’ll live,” Matt then consciously retracted from your warmth, still clenching around him and refusing to let go. With him still comfortably moulded on top of your form, you reached down and routinely tugged the spent condom off, tossing it in the nearby bin.

“I blame you, just so you know,” you joked, “if it hadn’t been for you and your-, you know, then you could have indulged in a feast worthy of a king on a weekday!”

“Then what do you call the tasty breakfast I did enjoy?” he played off your joke, making you burst out a laugh.

“Oh my god, you’re terrible,” you gushed, gazing up at him in adoration.

His expression suddenly morphing into something more sour, he muttered as realisation hit him, “weekday… wait, what time is it?”

“Um,” you located your phone in the tangled sheets, “it’s 8:14.”

“Oh shit!” he scurried out of bed and raced to the closet to yank out the very first suit his fingers grazed.

Slowly sitting up, you bit down on your smile as your eyes followed the chaotic swarm that was your boyfriend, whirling around the apartment, simultaneously scurrying to get his clothes on all the while darting from one end to the other, trying to locate every item necessary for him to be able to leave.

“Glasses, glasses…” he mumbled, head whipping around as his fingers hastily flung his tie around his neck.

Calling his attention with a soft whistle, you pointed out for him, “on the coffee table,” and promptly giggled as he raced to put them on.

“Thanks!”

“Have a great day,” you called out from the bedroom, duvet hugged tightly to your chest.

Shirt untucked, tie untied, and shoes only rashly tugged on, he sprinted out the door, only managing a rushed, “bye!” before you heard the door close behind him.

Not but two seconds after the front door slammed shut, you heard it jolt open once more.

“Did you forget something?” you asked as you watched Matt determinedly march back into the apartment. Not offering you any context, your brows only furrowed further, “Matt?”

His long strides carried him all the way back into the bedroom and without warning, bent down and scooped up your face in his palms, pressing a feverish kiss against your lips.

Sucking in a surprised breath, your fingers sprung up and tangled themselves in the loose tie hanging from his neck.

Painstakingly pulling back, Matt groaned, “you really shouldn’t be allowed to be in my bed in the morning.”

“Why?” you smiled, “is it really that bad?”

“No, it’s not,” his short nails scraped stripes along the base of your scalp, “that’s the problem,” and seized your lips once more. His tongue dancing against yours was only halted when a robotic repetition of his best friend’s name suddenly emanated from his phone.

Letting out a pained grown, he fished it out of his pocket and accepted the call, putting it on speaker before sighing, “yeah?”

“Dude, why are you not here yet?” Foggy snapped at the other end of the line, “I’m freaking out here! You’re supposed to do the opening statement!”

“I’m on my way,” he said, though didn’t move his feet even a millimetre closer towards the exit, “calm down.”

“No, you calm down!” Foggy protested as the man before you reluctantly raised one of your palms up to his lips, whispered you a hushed proclamation of love and then straightened back up, “wait,” his buddy’s tone suddenly softened, “did you just tell me that you love me? Because that won’t help your case, not today.”

“What? No!” he slowly made his way out of the bedroom.

“Really?” the man on the other end challenged, “because it sure sounded like it. Wait-, are you-, are you still at home?” prompting a soft groan to emanate from Matt, “oh my god, you are! You’re over there getting your rocks off with your girlfriend while I have to carry our entire legal firm on my own back!”

“Okay, alright,” Matt huffed on his way out of the apartment, “I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

“15? It takes at least half an hour to get here from your place!”

Figuring your presents no longer was a secret, you shouted sweetly after him, “good luck in court!”

“Yeah,” you just barely heard Foggy scoff, “if he makes it in time.”

“I always make it, shut up,” he shot back before turning his attention to you one last time, “I’ll be home around 5.”

“Okay,” your body could help but crane to watch him disappear, “and, hey Matt?”

“Yeah?” he stopped right before reaching the door.

“I love you too.”

Still on the line, Foggy’s groan rang throughout the apartment, “I swear to god, Murdock, if you crawl back into bed right now and leave me to deal with this case that you convinced me we should take on, then I will fucking leave you for a position at Landman and Zack!”

#lea’s writing #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock scenario #matt murdock oneshot #matt murdock one-shot #matt murdock one shot #marvel smut #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock dialogue #matthew murdock imagine #matt murdock x fem!reader smut #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader

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