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clarks-letterman · 5 months

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a man's sport | Matt Murdock x reader

a/n — wrote this because pool is such a slutty sport idk // title is a joke

warnings — rimming (Matt receiving), not proofread (late night sorry)

summary — Drunken fools make a bet and don't even follow it, too entranced to care.

words — 2.5k

~~~

There comes a time in every man’s life where he gambles with dice he doesn’t know every side of. He makes choices with a devil on his shoulder to guide him, or maybe an unassuming angel, naively nudging his shoulder so that he turns down the wrong path.

You met Matt on a night like tonight a few weeks ago when he came into the bar with a black eye and a story to tell. It was easy to get it from him after offering to buy the first round of drinks. ‘A car accident,’ he said, ‘involving no more than a parked car and an ignorant passenger opening the door.’ You could put two and two together, but you could also tell when someone was lying. He walked through the door that night, claiming to have gotten it on his walk over, but the development of it seemed too fast. Then, for the entirety of that night, you had to remind him every half-an-hour or so to apply something cold to the area for the swelling and the pain likely tingling on the surface. He teased you, calling you his ‘mother’ for being so overbearing, but it was just the way you knew someone would typically treat a shiner like that.

Somehow, it didn’t scare him away. Matt would show up to the bar, alone, often asking the bartender if you had come in. It became a silent agreement that the two of you would meet after your respective jobs to just forget about everything else. The disconnect and difference between your lives meant that you could be yourselves, and learn about things you never knew before. Matt had been schooling you on laws, mostly getting you to open up about the time something memorable happened, then pointing out what you could or couldn’t be prosecuted for. It was all reckless stupidity or something along that line, nothing serious.

Just when you were about to catch him in another lie, he took a sharp turn in the conversation after pounding back the last of his drink. “Whoever loses a round, buys a round,” he suggested. Matt nodded his head towards the pool table in the back of the bar, the sounds of patrons playing earlier must have let him know it was there. Otherwise, you would have thought the very reason you had become so infatuated with this man would immediately reveal itself to be a lie.

Maybe it was some kind of joke, a way for him to finally pay you back for adding on to your endlessly accruing tab at Josie’s. If he did win, you’d just ask for the cheapest whatever, whether it was alcoholic or not. It’s not like you needed it anyway with the amount of it in your system as is. Plus, Matt had told you more than enough about his business to assume that it was more of an emotionally stable job rather than a financial one. The way he talked about it made it sound more like his house, where his heart laid the rules.

The steps taken over to the pool table were sloppy, unsteady. Even Matt careened over, forgoing his walking cane in favoring of letting touch guide him. The tips of his fingers glided atop the bar lightly, adding a bit of confidence to his stride. That was until he ran out of countertop to guide him, and he took each step with caution. He had a bit of faith that you would be following close enough behind to catch him if he stumbled.

Matt felt around the area and picked up the pool stick when his fingers touched the wood. Maple wood—smoothed down and glazed with black tape that was starting to peel at the edges from months, years, of use. He could hear you stomping around the table, setting up the balls in order and with care and placing the cue ball at the end of the table where he stood. Matt already had the stick resting between the knuckles of his index and middle fingers.

“I don’t think you can beat me,” Matt said confidently.

“You bet your ass I will.”

“Is anything up for negotiation?” He asked, spreading out his legs and arching his back to get precisely the right angle. Every sense he had told him it was the perfect shot, the one to sink three balls into three separate pockets and start the game off strong. He raised the back of the cue to run along his knuckle with just the right glide through, running it forward just shy of the white ball placed on its marker to practice the motion.

You held onto your pool stick with two hands like a cane with no curve, watching him move. “Yeah, as long as you’re fine with it.”

“Then it’s a deal.” Matt wore a confident facade, only shifting away from that when you accepted his offer. He moved a little to the left, pretending to correct his stance. With a quick snap, the cue ball flew, hitting the alignment head on and effectively doing nothing to increase his points. Each scattered in different directions, like little balls of fire to him, all in different sizes thanks to their color and how they each absorbed light. Not a single ball went into a pocket, and he smirked at how easy it was to achieve failure.

You watched how Matt’s turn went, and readied yourself and a different side of the table, ready to take your turn. Hopefully, this game would go well for you. “Let’s hope I’m not dealing with the devil.”

“He hides in plain sight.” He said casually, mischief tinting his red-lensed glasses.

Matt tried to make it known, moving around to the side of the table you were on for all of his turns. He made to get as close as possible, insisting that it was the “right angle” to take his shot from. In reality, he used it as a way to be in front of you, leg straddling the table’s wooden rail. His knee grazed the green cushioning that lined the surface of the playing area. The alcohol created a tide that washed away any connecting line in the sand that would make sense of how a blind man could play pool. You didn’t even question how he knew where you stood to take your shot without guiding him to it. To Matt’s surprise, even though he had thrown to game to get his desired outcome—to let you have your way with his ass—your coordination wasn’t strong as a drunk. He could have simply watched the game play out and still won, even if he wasn’t playing.

Thankfully, you got the hint on what would have been his winning turn—solid red, number three his senses told him. He stood at the end of the table that looked out to the bar. You came up behind him, cupping his ass as the backside of his dress shirt and belt and fabric struggled to contain him. The ball wasn’t the center of his attention, no, it was you.

A little devil whispered in his ear, your alluring voice making a bitter crime sound sweet, “Let’s add a crime to be prosecuted for, huh?”

He reached for his tie, clawing at something. His fingers felt the bristle of the scruff on his neck in his quick movements before sliding down to the collar of his shirt. He needed to get the words out that were stuck in his throat, “Like what?”

“You’ll see.” You promised him, backing away from him and kneeling down. Both of your knees hit the hard floor of Josie’s, the layer of scuffs caused by his angular dress shoes and many other’s beneath you. Now, a set of soft, bruising knees like yours had likely never grazed a floor like this. All kinds of bets were made, but this had to be the most unusual.

Your hands made quick work of his belt and pants, pulling his hips back to give room between his buckle and the side of the pool table for your hands to slide into and do what they needed to. He closed that gap when everything was free, pressing his already stiffening cock against the chilled mahogany wood, creating a friction for himself in the front. His hands never left the cue, only tightening on the stick when he felt your presence nearing him.

Keys of coke were snorted and needles percolating with heroine were probably done in the bathroom, but this would be the only line of crack seen in the bar itself. Good people of society, you claimed yourselves as. All of that could have simply been a lie as the addiction to Matt set in. The smell of him radiating in waves like notes of a cologne drew you in. Laundry detergent came in brief hints of a top note that had faded throughout the days wear, replaced quickly by his aromatic cologne. It was cheaply scented with a woody dampness like trees looming in the mist and poppy flowers drooping from weight on their petals—everywhere yet easy to miss as the base notes of everything that made up his smell hit next. The base notes of his smell were the most carnally alluring, that being his musk. Sweat lingered from being trapped in a stuffy office all day, with a brisk walk to the bar adding another layer to it.

But then, you got a taste of him. It was bland, bitter, and had hints of saltiness to it. With taste comes texture, and Matt’s fuzzy peach had something unlike anything else. He had a devilish combination of smells and textures that kept it interesting. Your lips grazed over his hairy cheeks, feeling the dark hair tickle your chin and surrounding features. The palms of your hands felt it, too, once they peeled him apart to undo his natural layers and uncover where he was sensitive.

You were able to go deeper, your hands sinking well into his cushy cheeks with more than enough to hold. It made your face feel like it was sinking into his folds while you wedged yourself between him. Your nose was the first thing to meet his crack—just above his hole so that your lips could meet his tightness. You pursed your lips, your tongue filling the space between them that formed and stuck it out. Then, you did the one thing your tongue could do—lick and lick around in circles, stripes, and as many teases as you could think of from his taint to his hole and back.

Matt was in shambles in moments. He had fully leaned over the table, humping against the table and, indirectly, rocking back against your face in a steady rocking motion. He didn’t treat your face like a stranger, but he was completely new to the feeling. Not only because he never really embraced this side of himself, but because it was such a dangerous thing to be caught for. One, two, three—fuck was that the fourth time you had slid your tongue in his hole already? It felt like a blur of repeated motions.

One, two, three, four, he counted. He tried to make sense of how many heartbeats filled the bar, trying to find risk where he could to make this act more devious. The more people could walk around—or hell, even just turn their head—and see him with his pants at his ankles and a hard-on defiling the pool table and a person making his ask feel so good and he moaned; there you go again, making him a mess. He tried looking natural, as if he was taking the worlds longest pool shot. But all it would take is someone sitting on the side of the bar that would cause the bartender to have to look this way for it to be apparent. What did it even look like to someone else? Because to Matt, it felt like he was lying on a green cloud nine, but had he leaned down far enough to expose what you were doing? Anyone could follow the trail along his back and see the top half of your face peeking over his two hairy mounds, ducking and resurfacing in careful movements. His shirt riding up to show off his lower back, too.

He could feel you smirk against him, a soft chuckle as you realized the he lined up a shot that he never took. Matt was too busy letting out soft noises of satisfaction to finish the game.

“Take the shot, Matt.” You breathe out in one non-stop string of syllables. He could feel your hot breath return back to him after parting from his ass. You felt him shift his legs slightly, giving you a better angle to rim him.

He sprawled his hand out on the slate, his other hand shakily slotting the pool stick between his middle and index finger. He stopped finding relief on the table itself, let himself painfully ache as he did what you asked of him. In an almost twist of fate, this was the most ideal spot for him to sink the final ball into one of the six pockets on the table; the corner on the far-right looked the most appealing. Matt bent down, arching his back up and, by virtue of that, offered himself more to you. Your head nodded vigorously to both lick stripes over his hole and quickly slip in and out of his tight hole. The way it felt on your tongue and the way your tongue stretched him was like a perfect storm to throw off his aim. Matt took the shot and missed, the ball ricocheting of the east side of the table and then the north side, slowly rolling into the center.

While he may not have found victory, Matt rapidly found release moments later. He kept the cue in his hands, using the stick as a way to vent his pleasure with a tight grip on both ends. He applied as much pressure as the pleasure you elicited from him. You took the opportunity to reach up and grab ahold of his cock since he had yet to go back to grinding it. Your hand fondled him and jerked his length back and forth as he fell into a rhythm of grinding against your face and your hand. The movement quickened as he felt a welling inside his stomach. His senses told him that he was about to—and he did, shooting ropes along the side of the pooling table and sending them hurling to the ground just a short ways away from ruining his shoes and bunched up boxers as they landed by his feet.

Matt fought the urge to let out a noise, a hint that anything but an irregular pool game was in session. In his bliss, Matt had snapped the pool stick from the pressure he put on both ends. Jagged and sharp pieces of wood poked out of its innards, some of the wood chips scattering themselves over the table. You didn’t even notice it until you stood up, helping Matt affix his pants and belt.

“Guess we’ll call it a draw?” He asked, pretending as if he wasn’t going to lose the game.

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rowniebow · 1 year

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tone | matt murdock x gn!reader

summary: a day in the life of matt murdock and you, who's been wanting nothing more than to learn an instrument.

pairings: matt murdock x gn!reader

cw: it's not 18+ but it infers it a bit. read at your own risk!

word count: 0.6k+

an: short but i thought it was sweet

⭒

the ruined melodies sat between your jaw and clavicle. it echoed throughout the open apartment. it bounced off every wall and came back crashing into you: your learning mistakes on full blast.

your furrowed brow couldn't hold your bow in place for my longer than a beat. your posture fell, but your yearning for continuing to play and learn as fast as you could kept your tired arm high.

all you wanted to do was play the instrument beautifully.

"hey," a quiet voice broke through the silence that had been filled with your frustration.

"hi," your breathy greeting carried yourself down on to the bed, holding the instrument like a guitar instead. "i didn't know you were home. i'm sorry, this has got to be hurting your ears so badly,"

"no, no, not really," he shook his head from the door frame. he smiled in your general vicinity.

you stared.

"okay, maybe a little," he laughed lightly through your groan.

even if it hurt his ears, he gifted you the instrument. he wanted you to be able to learn it like you had been talking about.

"what's that called?" he stepped towards your sat frame. his glasses were off and his jacket was gone, as if he'd been home for a while. listening to you.

"what is what called?"

"when you," he thought for a moment on how to describe it. "wiggle your wrist like that?"

"ah, my sad attempt at vibrato." you looked up at his still confused but content features. "it supposed to help add emotion and musicality. and hide my horrible intonation errors."

he hummed, thinking to himself. "here,"

he gently grasped the instrument out of your hand and sat it on the bed next to you. he tugged on your loose shirt gently, nearly reveling your entire left shoulder.

"it's a muscle you have build - look," matt ran his fingers along the top of your shoulder. it was a whisper of a touch. "i can hear the muscle fibers tearing and-,"

he stroked his fingers along your skin. it vibrates throughout your body, clenching in and strangling your lungs.

"repairing themselves."

his hushed voice sent shivers down your spine. as if he were too afraid to interrupt the sound of your breathing.

he carefully (careful of both you and instrument) sat it back in the crook of your neck. he took his left hand and placed it on your cheek. the light touch brought the hairs on your neck up. he smirked at the sound of them. and slowly, gentle as ever, he guided your head to clutch the instrument in between your chin. "try that."

you stated up at him, charmed from the calm ocean of his touch.

he, however, felt your state and could hardly make out what it meant. his racing heart was louder than his scattered thoughts. even after all this time, you still managed to draw his mind to a blank.

"you can feel the vibrations better. it might help your- er- tone?" the stumbling of his words brought a repressed laugh out of you

"it's alright," you sat the instrument back down in its case. one that was filled with everything you could ever need by the man in front of you. "i think i'd like to do something else."

your hands found his cheeks. then travelled behind his neck. bits of his hair slithered between your fingertips like how the strings of the instrument did.

"yeah? what's that?" matt smiled leaning down for his lips to play in the beach of your neck.

you released a symphony of giggles into him as you fell back into your shared bed together.

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pendragon-writes · 1 year

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People Watching

M!Reader: You know I just love people watching.

Foggy: What makes you say that?

M!Reader: Well look at this right, that little old lady over there

Foggy: Oh yeah I see her what about her?

M!Reader: Well at first glance it looks like she’s just talking to that guy in the hoodie right?

Foggy: Mhm.

M!Read: If you pay more attention you’ll actually see that she’s his dealer.

Foggy: Wait holy shit she is!

M!Reader: And if you look to the right you can see that women slap her clearly cheating boyfriend.

Foggy: Ooo that’s gonna sting. Good on her though.

M!Reader: And over there is a guy in a red mask beating the shit out of another guy.

M!Reader & Foggy: SHIT THAT’S MATT!

#matt murdock x male reader #matt murdock x male!reader #foggy nelson x male reader #foggy nelson x male!reader #marvel x male reader #daredevil x male!reader #daredevil x male reader #male!reader #marvel incorrect quotes #marvel skit

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 1 year

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Devil Boy (Matt Murdock X Reader) *PLATONIC

Characters: Matt Murdock X Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers, Daredevil

Warnings: Violence, fighting, Reader is kind of flirty

NOTE: I know requester specified Male but upon checking to make sure I got pronouns right I realised I never actually use any so technically it’s gender neutral? I’m not gonna tag this fem reader tho

Request:Would you write Matt Murdoch x Male!Reader where they keep trying to distract eachother in easy fights?

Matt had managed to catch a short break atop a roof, leaning with his arms on the barrier, listening for the next sign of trouble in the area, over the general sound of people leaving bars and clubs, normal arguments that didn’t need intervention, and police sirens to issues already being dealt with. His senses had been so tuned that he easily heard the person who had jumped onto the same roof as him, walking over, picking up a bit of rubble as they moved, and he easily was able to reach back and catch it before it hit him in the back, and then he heard your laugh.

“Damn, maybe next time.” You joked, coming closer to him as he turned to acknowledge you. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, thought we could catch up.” You suggested.

“What about your side of town?” Matt questioned.

“Massive raid right in the centre of it- the place is swarming with cops so there’s silence on that side for tonight, which means more trouble in your territory.” You pointed out to him. The use of territories wasn’t really something that had been made on purpose- it just worked out that you tended to occupy and care for one section of Hell’s Kitchen and he looked after another section, with the other few vigilantes in their own little pockets, sometimes crossing over or passing through. For some of them, having someone else in ‘their’ turf was enough for a fight to break out, but for you and Matt, it was the opposite.

“In that case, thanks for the back up.” Matt thanked, turning back to look over the side, before he heard something in the distance. “Just in time it seems.”

“Lead the way.” You instructed, and you two quickly evacuated the roof, you not far behind Daredevil, and just five minutes later you two were in the midst of a fight with a small group who you’d caught in the midsts of trying to rob a store.

Matt was shoved against the counter of the shop, hearing the yelp of the poor teenage clerk behind it who was hiding in fear. Matt reacted quickly, kicking the man to create space, pushing him into an isle and into one of his friends. Meanwhile you were in the back of the tiny store, using a spinning display rack as a weapon. “Please try to not make a mess.” Matt called to you as he strode over to the man he’d shoved, ducking as the man swung before landing his own hits.

“Bit late- watch out for the magazines on the floor!” You called back, jabbing at one of the men in front of you, catching is jacket on one of the hooks pulling him closer to you before kicking him so hard it knocked him on the ground. Matt landed a final blow to his target, before he walked ahead to put his focus on the man you’d knocked down. “You got the money to pay for all this?”

“Not on me, no.” Matt answered. “Guess you’ll have to do some Community Service.” He suggested as he took a swing at the man in front of him.

“Me? We’re a team now, Devil boy, and this is your turf so it’s your duty.” You responded as you used the display rack to block a hit before it broke, and you tossed it to the side, now using your hands in the fight. “I think this should be my community service.”

Eventually you got the situation under control, the clerk called the cops, you tied the robbers up with some tape the clerk had behind the desk, and gave her what money you had on you as an apology for the distress and the mess, before you took off before the cops arrived, getting a good distance between you and the shop, stopping on the fire escape of a nightclub to catch your breath. “You alright?” Matt asked, leaning back on the steps he was sat on, looking behind him in your direction as you leant on the railings behind him.

“Yeah I’m good.” You answered, moving sluggishly to the few steps above him, and sitting down there, reaching out and tracing your fingers over the details of his mask. “How about you? It’s hard to see if you’re bleeding with that red suit of yours.”

“M’fine.” He answered, remaining still for you, being able to vaguely feel your touch underneath the mask, letting a silence fall over you both.

“Do you think it would have been cheaper for the store owner to get robbed rather than have us show up?” You asked, the question catching Matt off guard and laugh heartily.

“Well if you’re having a morals dilemma, know that when we protect a place like that, they don’t experience crime for a few weeks afterwards at least, and their business booms in that time because it’s deemed safe by the public, so the money gained will outweigh the damage.” Matt assured.

“What if someone uses this as a scam- pay criminals to rob his shop in monthly intervals so more people come in the cool down period?” You asked. Matt grinned at your questions. You always asked these questions, if anything to try and catch people off guard and make them stutter and think, purely to mess with them. He remembered when you pulled it on Castle and for 45 minutes Castle thought you were serious and had a genuine debate about your questions before Jones showed up and interrupted, making him realise you were just messing with him, and now whenever you tried to ask your questions, he’d simply tell you to shut up.

“I’ll keep an eye out for any shops doing that so we can take them down together.” He told you.

“Aw, thanks for including me. I’ll consider it a date.” You teased, your fingers tracing from his mask down to his face, twirling around his cheek bone, across his jaw, your finger tracing up his chin, tickling his lips before you booped him on the nose, which only made Matt smile more. “In the meantime, if you need any help, call me, and if I need back up, I’ll call you.”

“You going already?” Matt asked, not moving as you stood up, brushing yourself off.

“I’m afraid so, Matty. I’m pretty sure the police are gonna leave my section soon and crime is gonna go back up, so I wanna be there to make sure it’s alright.”

“I can come with you? Backup?” Matt offered, but the pat on his head told him it was a no.

“You’re adorable. I’ll see you around, Devil boy.” You told him, before jumping off the side of the fire escape, and running out of the alley. Matt remained sat on the steps with a content smile until he eventually heard someone calling for help.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby-blog @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort @freyathehuntress @abbybills22-blog @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp @rebellionofthecattle @hello-love-youre-pretty @werosemagic @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

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tomurderornottomurder · 2 years

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a new something; matt murdock & frank castle

pair. matt murdock x gn!reader x frank castle

summ. you get a haircut n the boys compliment u

gen. fluff

tw. brief mention of self loathing, that should be it

wc. 300+

note. these two are <333

- frank's the first to notice the change, given he can see and matt can't also matt's not home yet lol

- immediately smiles at you and tells you, "it looks good."

- he's also a little taken aback just because you had been growing your hair and now it's short, not that he minded either way, it was just something to get used to

- also immediately asks to run his hands through your hair

- you oblige him, bowing your head and everything, and he pulls you forward to kiss your face

- matt comes back from work and you approach him right away, telling him to feel your hair

- he's like ok?? then he actually touches your hair and it registers, you got a haircut!

- he smiles, still feeling your hair, "did frank tell you you're beautiful or do i have to?"

- "frank did. but you should do it anyway."

- and he does before giving you a big ol kiss <3

- "any reason for it?" he asks, purely out of curiosity. "i thought you were growing it out."

- you hum, "our anniversary's coming up, wanted to look nice." you shrug.

- "you'd look nice either way," matt assures you with a kiss to the nose.

- "i know. just needed it."

- "okay," matt nods. he's satisfied that you're not self loathing because you did it too often and both him and frank hated it.

- he then greets frank and takes a place on the couch before you squeeze between the two.

- you lay your head on matt and he runs his hands over your hair and head and face while frank rubs your legs

- okay the end <3

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alpha-jae856 · 2 years

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Why aren’t there more fics about Matt Murdock x trans!male readers!? 😭 I wanna live vicariously through a fic w out being reminded that I’m in the wrong body my dude! Or more fics of him w male readers or gn readers

#matt murdock x trans!reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x gender neutral reader #matt murdock x male!reader

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outoftheseine · 10 months

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#this is such a cute male!reader fic #male!reader #matt murdock x male!reader #fic rec

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azraelh22 · 11 months

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If you are complaining about male reader x (male character) fics as a fem aligned person, you need to suck it up, 75 if not 85% of the fics posted on tumblr are for fem reader x male characters, and you’re complaining over the one male reader fic?!?!? Get over yourself.

So stop crying and go do something useful like re-blogging or commenting nice things on mlm fic blogs.

Also stop tagging male reader if your fic is clearly not for male reader, you look like a moron.

#male reader #x male reader #miguel o'hara x male reader #gay #marvel #matt murdock x male reader #frank castle x male reader #marc spector x male reader #female reader #Hispanic male reader

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hellsburners · 10 months

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test drive nothing

summary: Your date is a fucking asshole so you find two lovely men who are willing to make it up to you. pairing: matt murdock x male reader x peter parker word count: 3.2k warnings: 18+ warning, alcohol use, some rude guy at a club, threesomes, top!matt, top!peter, bottom!reader, gay sex, semi-public stuff a bit, eiffel towered reader iykwim a/n: sorry for the delay didnt feel good for the past few days, anyway i hope yall like this idk what i was doing with this but if you liked it interractions are very much welcome and appreciated.

masterlist | more matt | more peter

gif credit for peter & matt

Heat rose up from your toes to your head. Music blasting from speakers left and right, neon streams of strobing light lit the dark room. People dancing around and drinking. It’ll be fine, you thought. It was your first time in this club, a Grindr match invited you here so you could hang. You were scanning the room for him, his pic showed a lean man with blonde hair and blue eyes on a beach in California.

You here? You messaged him. Well, you’ve been messaging him the same question for the past hour, no response. Your cheeks turned red from the anxiety. You nape, turning stiff and sore.

“Hey,” an arm caresses yours. It was him, he was wearing a black tank top tucked into cargo pants. “So, you ordered a drink?” You shook your head, he called on the bartender and gave you a drink suggestion. Since you weren’t much of a drinker you went with his choice, vodka martini.

The two of you talked for a few minutes, catching up on typical first date things. You found out that he was a doctor for MetroGen, he liked hockey, and he has a pet dog. He was now a few inches from you, his breath reeking of alcohol, his light blue eyes piercing yours. He tried to inch closer to you, to kiss you. Feeling like he was being too fast you pulled back.

“Maybe we should go dance?” you asked, standing up from the bar stool. He reluctantly agrees. You gesture to the dance floor. The two of you walk towards the building crowd. You were bumping onto bodies left and right. You were holding your drink, trying not to spill it. A man with brown hair bumps into you, you almost spilled the drinks from the tight space. He told you he was fine and left smiling. You thought of his face, it felt familiar.

“Hey you coming?” your date says, starting to dance. You joined him, slowly feeling into the fast beat of the music. He places an arm at your lower back. Your hands to his shoulders. Your hips moving left and right. He stares at different men passing you by, his gaze on them rather than you.

You see a guy wink at him and he winks back. You thought he was just friendly, he seemed to be the type. He knew people in the club and he’d greet them left and right. You felt isolated. You look around, people dancing and laughing, it suffocates you. Your hands started to jitter around the glass, you almost felt it slip.

“I think I’m gonna go—” you gestured for the restroom. He grabs your wrist and pulls you back. His arm wrapped tightly across your back. His grip was firm, he reeked so bad of alcohol you hadn't noticed he was actually so drunk from earlier. “Please, let me go. You’re making me uncomfortable.”

He starts to initiate a kiss. You push him away, he doesn’t budge.

“Come on now babe, we haven’t had much fun yet,” he whispers to your ear, you cringe from his disgusting tone. A hand pulls his arm away. The weight lifted off of you.

“He said let go, man,” someone says, it was the brunette from earlier. Your date shrieks from the man’s grip. You see his fingers almost crush his wrist. His brown eyes were stern, his brows furrowed.

“Piss off! That’s my date,” he tries to reach for you. The brunette pushes you aside gently, blocking you away from him. Your date pushes the brunette, taunting him. He tries to take a punch toward the man protecting you, he blocks it. The guy tried to lunge further, to take the brunette by the collar and slam him. You see the brunette clutch his fists, his nails burying in his palms. Too bad for your date the bouncer came in and ushered him out. He went out screaming and cursing.

“You okay?” the brunette said. He gestured for you to go back to the bar and grab some water.

“Yeah, fucking prick,” you said soothing your wrist before taking a sip of ice cold water. The shock releases your skin of all the tension. “Knew that app was a hell hole.”

“Met him from Grindr, huh?” he asked, you nodded reluctantly. Now that you were far from the strobe lights and all the different colors you could see his face clearly. You had seen his face before, not from earlier, but from somewhere years ago. Your face contorted to a confused look.

“Have we met before?” you asked,he smiles.

“Must be the glasses, ditched them years ago.” He points two fingers to his eyes.

“Oh my god from high school! I know your name I swear,” you tried to search your brain for a name, or the first letter at least.

“I bet you a million dollars you won’t remember my name, not really a popular guy in high school,” he chuckles. He takes a sip of coke, his arm resting on the bar counter. You close your eyes trying to search for the name.

“Peter Parker!” you shouted. “Venmo me a million dollars right now."

“Well give me your number so I can send it,” he takes out his phone. You smiled, you took his phone and typed the ten digits. “I’ll send it to ‘ya when I win the lottery.” The two of you laugh.

“Wanna dance?” you asked.

“You sure?” he said, looking confused.

“Yeah, can’t let one man ruin my night right?” you started backing up towards the dance floor. He was hesitant at frist, following you he takes your shoulder to guide him.

The two of you started to dance. The lights flood your eyes with different colors. You asked if you could put your hands on him, he nodded. You rest your hands on his shoulders. He asked the same question, you nodded as well. You guided his arms around your waist. He was gentle about it. The pressure was so light it felt like nothing.

You placed a hand on his handsome face, pushing his hair aside. “Do you want to kiss me? I think you wanna kiss me?” he whispered.

“You want to bet another million dollars on that?” you laughed.

Your lips meet, his soft lips warm on yours. He was everything the man earlier was not. Each step he asked for your consent. His hands were light on your body. His kiss was slow and gentle. He was simply a nice guy.

He told you that he forgot to mention he was actually meeting with a friend. You got shy thinking he was on a date and you now ruined it but he assured you it was just a friend. A few minutes of chatting led to the two of you laughing at each other’s jokes. It was around midnight already.

Peter called for someone behind you, you turned to see who it was and it was a man a bit older than him. He wore a black suit and a white shirt and he wore these ruby colored glasses. He was an attractive man, his mouth smirked as he waved at Peter.

“Hey, this is my friend Matt,” Peter says to your ear, the music almost making it inaudible. Matt smiles as Peter introduces you to him.

“Sorry for being late, work stuff,” you noticed his eyes behind the glasses focused above your head, never going your way. He’s blind, Peter mouths at you. Oh. Peter told you two to get to know each other as he gets more drinks.

“You from Midtown?” you asked.

“Hell’s Kitchen actually, I’m a lawyer,” he says. You told him about how you met Peter in high school.

“Oh, hence the corporate get-up, I dig it” you said, he laughs, his cheeks showing off his dimples.

Peter came back with three shot glasses. He hands you and Matt one. He offers a toast and the three of you bring your glasses to a clink. You down the shot, the liquid burning your throats. And the three of you took another shot, and another, and another.

You tap Matt’s shoulder gently. “Let’s dance some,” you say to him.

“Oh no, I don’t dance,” he puts the shot glass down. Waving his hands with hesitation.

“That’s not true, I saw you once!” Peter said, Matt pressed his palm on his mouth and made a shushing sound. The three of you were laughing hysterically.

“Oh come on do it for me,” you dragged the words. He loosens his tie and joins two of you.

Peter’s arm was around your shoulder as the two of you danced to the beat, your hips swaying. You held onto the hem of Matt’s sleeve pulling him in. He awkwardly tries to dance with the two of you. It was cute, you thought. Peter was now behind you, your back pressed to his chest. Matt playfully guided your hands to his shoulders, moving his body left and right. It was out of beat but it was the thought that counts.

Maybe it was alcohol, or the moment, or the fact that there were two very attractive men dancing with you, but you started to feel something. Like heat rising to your cheeks in a good way, your knees feeling weak. Peter placed a kiss on your nape. You ushered yourselves closer to Matt. Peter’s hand went to Matt’s waist pulling him into you.

Matt placed his arms in your waist, light but stern. You wrapped your arms around his neck. You could smell him, like sandalwood and musk. “You could ask him if you want to. I won’t mind,” Peter said, as if being able to read your mind.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked Matt. Your mind completely focused on the two men with you. Matt giggles and places a kiss on your lips. Peter’s kiss was soft, Matt’s was more heated, like his thick lips were sucking you in.

“So you two do this a lot?” You pointed at Matt and Peter.

“Only if the guy is cute.” Peter said.

“But the two of you?” you chuckled. Peter placed his hands on Matt’s cheek, whispering something in his ears. Matt nods and Peter places a kiss on Matt’s lips.

“That wasn’t too bad. Can’t believe we haven’t done that before Matt," he pats his back.

“Maybe we can take this party to my place?” Matt said. You looked at Peter, who was also looking at you. You both tell Matt yes. “Let me go get a cab.”

Now outside, Matt was hailing for a cab. The streets were cold. Peter wraps his arms around you. Body heat, he says. You go on your tiptoes to kiss him again. More feverish this time. You could feel his hardness press on your waist. “Sorry, I couldn't wait, this is so hot.”

Matt arrives, his brows raised in disbelief. A cab waiting for the three of you. Matt tugs on Peter’s collar and shoves him to the front seat. “You sit there and watch.”

You and Matt continue to make out in the back seat. His shirt was now untucked from his waist. His tie was long gone and his shirt opened a bit. He places soft wet kisses to your neck making you moan. The two of you could care less about what the cab driver thought.

Peter looks at the two of you from the rearview mirror, the erection in his pants stirring. He palms the damn thing. He really could not wait.

Matt’s hands came to your thigh, your hands peeking through the hem of his shirt, you could feel his bare skin, all warm and hard. The car slowed, you’ve arrived at Matt’s apartment. Peter pays, you and Matt hurrying to the front door. “Hey wait up!” Peter yelled.

While Matt was fumbling to get his keys Peter pulled you to him. “I’m starting to get jealous here,” he whispers.

“I want you both, so fucking bad.”

“Then you’ll have us,” he cups your face and kisses you again, his tongue meeting yours. His hand comes to your lower back, playing with the hem of your pants. His fingers slowly going underneath the fabric.

The door unlocks. “Door’s open, you two,” he takes his suit jacket off.

The three of you were undressing in Matt’s living room, stumbling from getting rid of tight shirts and long pants. You stare at their bodies both scarred, Peter was lean but still muscular, while Matt was more bulky. Their erections form tents in their boxers.

Peter sat down on the sofa, gesturing for you to sit on him. Matt sits next to him. God they were a sight. You ride Peter’s thigh. Your hands palming his torso. Peter touches your sex, you were also so hard. You whisper to Peter that you’d like to suck him off. He curses and nods.

You go down on your knees, pulling his boxers with you. His long cock springs up, the head a bright red. He points the tip to your lips, you give it kitten licks, the sensitive head throbbed from the motion.

Matt started to palm his boxers as you sucked Peter off. Your hand wanders to his hairy thighs. Matt releases his cock, it was shorter than Peter’s but still pretty big, what Peter lacked in girth Matt showed off more. You started to stroke his cock, your mouth still on Peter’s. The two men moaned, their eyes closed and their heads held back.

“Fuck you’re so good,” Peter coos. He takes you to sit on the couch, he goes down on his knees to pleasure you. With his mouth to your cock, Matt went on to leave kisses to your neck, his hand on Peter’s head, pushing him deeper. You moaned so much from it. Your hands go to Matt’s cock, now leaking with precum.

“I want to fuck you,” Peter said. You asked where the bedroom was and Matt led the two of you to his queen sized bed. Matt sat on the bed, his back to the headboard, you crawled to him and took him in your mouth, the girth filling your warm mouth. Peter massages your ass from the back. Matt jerked his hips making you choke a little, you moaned, your throat vibrating on Matt’s cock. “Moan louder pretty, Matt likes it a lot.”

Peter takes your underwear off. He parted your ass and began to lick in your hole. You moaned on Matt’s cock, he shuddered from the sudden wave of pleasure; he brushed his hand through your hair. “My god sweetheart you’re too good at this.”

You felt Peter’s shaft tapping against your whole. “Condoms?” he asked. Matt gestured for the bedside table. Peter went on to get them. You released Matt’s cock to look for him but he pulled you into a kiss.

“Peter’s gonna go first, is that okay?” Matt asked in between kisses. You nodded. Peter returned with condoms and a small bottle of lube. He places the condom on his cock, stroking it after with lube.

“‘You ready?” you nod. Peter slowly presses the tip to your whole, the tight muscle contracts around the head making it tighter.

“Relax for me baby,” Peter coos, rubbing his hands on your back. He fully sheathed himself in you. You felt so full and so good. Peter fucking you while your mouth was on Matt’s cock, it drove you crazy. Peter pulled you to his chest, one hand to your cock while the other teasing your nipples. Matt went to your cock and placed small licks to your shaft, precum dripping from your tip. Matt took you in, your cock hitting the back of his throat as Peter pounded you. Matt choked but kept going.

“You sound so good taking Peter,” Matt said, his lips swollen red. Your hands brushed through his hair. Peter fucked you so sensually any trace of stinging alleviated from your body. There was fluidity to the way he moved, like a dancer or a gymnast, all steady movement but still so graceful.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” Peter groaned.

You felt so close too. Your rhythm became erratic, more lazy and inert. He let out a few more thrusts, emptying inside you. You came on Matt’s lips. Your chest heaving, Peter gave you a kiss on your temple, whispering praises.

Matt wiped his lips, licking your cum and sucking on his fingers. “My turn,” Matt guided your back to the bed. He took your legs and placed them on both sides of his hips. His cock leaking with pre, he takes the condom packet and places a rubber on him as well, lubing it after.

You still felt weak from Peter, who was now cradling you in between his legs, your back to his. He is laying down with his back to the headboard resting for a bit. Matt slowly pressed himself into your hole, you groaned. Peter whispered words of comfort to your ears, brushing his hands through your hair as Matt moaned to the feeling of your hole around his cock.

Matt peppered you with kisses. His hands snaked around your body feeling every bit of skin, his fingertips tracing every crevice and every groove, every bit of fat and muscle. He looked so good, hips thrusting while his dark hair stuck to his forehead drenched in sweat. His mouth agape as he cursed, calling for God's name.

Peter’s hand went to your cock, now soft and a bit sore. He traced his fingertips on the wet slit, the sensitive tip made you writhe from the sensation. A few moments later you began to harden again. Peter spat on his palm and stroked your cock after. Your eyes closed from all the pleasure.

You felt your spirit lift from your body. These two men were bringing pleasures to your body you hadn’t known existed. You felt as if your body were ascending to heaven for a second there.

Matt bent down to give you a fevered kiss. Peter squeezed himself to the kiss. The three of you sharing your tongues and lips. Matt’s stubble pricked your cheeks but it didn’t matter. You felt yourself near another orgasm. You were now a sobbing mess between these two. Matt fucked you harder, you felt his orgasm nearing as well.

“I’m gonna cum,” you cried. Matt said he was close too, whining your name. Peter pumped your cock until your eyes closed from the pleasure, your hands gripping onto the sheets, your toes curled. Matt’s erratic rhythm came to a stop as he emptied his cum in the condom. Leaving you both a moaning mess.

The three of you shared one last kiss before crashing onto the bed. Matt went to the bathroom to get you a wet towel. Peter peppered your temples with kisses, whispering praises. Matt came back with the towel and helped you and Peter clean up, he took extra good care with cleaning your behind.

After that, the three of you laid naked on Matt’s bed, drenched in sweat. You felt yourself drift off to the night. Your head to Matt’s chest and Peter’s arms wrapped around you.

You wake up to the sound of frying and the smell of cooked bacon. You found yourself tucked in Matt’s blanket, with your boxers on and Matt’s shirt on you. You stood up, your back aching, and went to Matt’s small kitchen. You found the two boys cooking breakfast. It was Matt who noticed you first.

“Hungry?” he asked, finishing off frying eggs. Peter noticed who Matt was talking to and smiled. He walked towards you to give you a kiss on the forehead, his hands on a plate of bacon and some toast.

You smirked, very.

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

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issdisgrace · 4 months

Text

LOVE LANGUAGES THAT FRANK CASTLE AND MATT MURDOCK LIKE GIVING AND RECEIVING

WARNINGS: Nothing really, other than non sexual naked cuddling in Matt's part

FRANK

Franks love languages are acts of service and quality time. His favorite acts of service is cooking and baking for you. He is a really good cook and makes the meanest cookies ever. He also really enjoys when you join him in the kitchen while he’s cooking or baking. It doesn’t matter if you’re helping him or not he enjoys your presence. This also feeds into quality time. Frank likes to spend a lot of time with you because he is worried that something will either happen to you or him. Also this quality time spent together gives him comfort that you are ok and that nothing happened to you.

Frank in return likes touch and words of affirmation. However he prefers touch over words of affirmation but he still loves both nonetheless. Franks like when you touch him even if it’s just pinky’s hooked together. Feeling your touch grounds him but also reminds him that you are with him and nothing happened to you. Now on the flip side Frank likes words of affirmation. It makes him feel loved when you tell him that you’re proud of him or that you appreciate him. In the past Frank was never really told those things so he clings on to them every time you say them. They also warm his big cold heart.

MATT

Matt’s love languages are words of affirmation and acts of service. Sometimes he doesn’t realize that he’s saying words of affirmation to you. It just comes so naturally to him. But the times he does catch him doing it he pays attention for changes in your heartbeat to see if what he says has an effect on you. He also listens for changes when he tells or shows you that he did something that you’ve been putting off or been meaning to do. When he hears these changes in your heartbeat he smiles to himself knowing he made you happy/feel good.

Now on the other hand Matt likes to get gifts and psychical touch in return. With the gifts he prefers if it’s something that you made. It doesn’t matter if it’s the most jankiest thing in the world you made it for him and that’s all that matters. He will also happily display whatever you make him in your guys home or his office. Now with the psychical touch Matt likes skin to skin contact. As his sensory problem don’t flair up if it’s skin to skin. Matt is also a very big fan of non sexual naked cuddling due to this. But it is ok if you don’t want to do that. He is perfectly fine with just holding hands.

#matt murdock #frank castle #marvel #matt murdock x male reader #frank castle x male reader #marvel x male reader #matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #marvel x reader

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devils-dares · 1 year

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when you have the chance, can you write about matt x touch deprived! reader?

hi! thanks for your request. I'm working my way through the requests i got before i closed them.

-----

“Hey there, koala bear.” He says as you wake. Koala bear was an apt nickname for you, as you woke up holding his forearm in your hands and your head resting on his shoulder.

“Good morning.” You say, moving off his arm back onto your pillow. Matt gasps at the pins and needles that flood his arm when you get off, clenching and unclenching his fist to get the blood flowing.

“How’d you sleep?” He asks.

“Like a baby, sorry for taking your arm.” He shakes his head.

“Don’t apologize, it’s cute.”

You watched as he got ready, brushing his hair and buttoning his shirt. You took his tie from him and tied it for him. It took you much longer to do it and it always came out slightly crooked, but he’d wear it proudly with the distinction that you did it for him.

“Are you sure you have to leave?” You ask, climbing out of bed as he puts his suit jacket on.

“Sadly, yes.” He opens his arms as you walk directly into his chest, holding him close and hearing his heartbeat.

“I’m gonna miss you.” He laughs, wrapping his arms around you.

“I’ll miss you too, bug.”

-----

Matt’s favorite time of day was when he came home, whether from the office or patrol. He’d always brace himself for impact when you got up from wherever you were resting.

“Matty!” You yell and he grunts as you hug him.

“Hi honey.” He says, lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. You rest your head on his shoulder as he walks the two of you through the apartment and sits you down on the couch in his lap.

“How was your day?” You ask, your finger coming up to trace his face, feeling his days old stubble prickle under your touch.

“It was good, missed you.”

“I missed you too, my love.”

“Alright, let me change and then I’ll cook dinner for us.”

“I can cook dinner, you just came home.”

“And I know you’ve been working all day too, let me cook.”

-----

Cooking with you was also Matt’s favorite time of day. You’d come padding out into the kitchen and cling to him while he stirred the food. He’d sway back and forth while you held on to him, muttering something about how it was a crime how warm he always was. Today was no different.

His head rested on top of your chin, hand on your back as he held you close with the other stirring the food. He puts the spoon down for a minute and holds you, burying his nose in your hair and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Have I told you I love you?” He asks, smile growing when he hears your laugh.

“You tell me just about every five minutes.”

“Unacceptable, I have to make it two at the most, I love you.”

“I love you too, Matthew.”

-----

The shower shutting off is what woke you in the middle of the night. You blinked awake, rubbing the sleep away as you heard the bathroom door open.

“Matt?” You call out.

“Sorry, bug. Did I wake you?”

“No.” He walks to the dresser to pull on a pair of sweats.

“Was it a busy night?”

“Quiet night, first in a while, only got a few bruises.”

“No blood?”

“No blood.”

“Good, c’mere.” You pull on his arms to have him lay down, his head on your chest over your heart.

“Sleep, Matt.” Your fingers card through his hair, a tried and true method of putting him to sleep quickly and sure enough, his soft snores fill the room.

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