Tumgik
#matthew murdock x reader
thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months
Text
the croissants
buttercup, chapter one
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n: i was actually working on something else, but then one night i got the desperate need to rewatch daredevil yet again and then this just kinda accidentally tumbled out. oopsi i guess.
summary: he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open.
warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, moving, lowkey love at first sight (for reader)
word count: 2415
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
series masterlist | next chapter
masterlist | join my taglist
Tumblr media
“Do you wanna make the call or would you like me to do it?” 
Turning to look at the robust and inked visage of your uncle, your face crinkled up slightly as you asked in a hesitant tone, “…would you mind doing it? Please?”
“Sure, hon,” Howard nodded before blinking down at his phone and dialling the number, “what kind? Margherita?”
“Yeah, and with some arugula on top, please,” you spoke as you squeezed by a tower of messy moving boxes to enter the open kitchen of your new apartment, “thank you!”
Hearing his footsteps carry him deeper into the new home, his voice soon rumbled, muffled behind your bedroom door. Opening up the cardboard box that half blocked off your empty fridge, you dug through it till you found a glass, swiftly straightening back up and filling it up with water.
“How are you doing, cupcake?” you heard the soft voice of Walter, your uncle’s husband, as you turned off the tab, “you gonna be okay tonight? Because if you don’t want to be alone, we can stay.”
“No, it’s alright, I think I’m okay,” you took a tiny sip before placing the tall glass down on the counter, “you both gotta get up early tomorrow to open the bakery anyways.” 
“It’s never stopped us before. Do you remember when you were 11 and you watched that terrifying movie at some slumber party?” a smile twitched at the bald man’s lip from the memory, “I don’t think any of us slept for a whole week straight and the bakery still kept on running. If we could get through those sleepless nights of trying to convince you that our apartment wasn’t haunted, then we can get through this.” 
Stepping up closer to him, you caught his hand in yours and said, “I think I’m gonna be okay, but thank you, Walter, really, for everything, for this, for letting me move back home and letting me stay there for over a year.”
“Hey,” he squeezed your palm and ushered you to meet his gaze, “you do not need to thank us for that. It’s–…” he dropped the heavy comment he nearly uttered and instead let out a low sigh, “we love you. It was the very least we could do.”
“I love you too,” you heard your voice threaten a tremble of vulnerability, “so much.”
As the bedroom door then swung back open, out stepped Howard with an exhale, “alright, the pizza is on its way. You gonna be okay here?”
“Yeah,” you offered him a nod before walking them out. 
Peeking back at you over his shoulder as he swung his bright red scarf back on, Walter raised his brows tenderly, “promise that you’ll call us if anything happens, yeah?”
“Promise,” you breathed as you watched them creak open the front door and step out into the cold hallway, “love you, goodnight!”
“Goodnight, hon!” Howard waved over his shoulder at your visage in the doorway as the couple reached the stairs, “see you tomorrow! Try and get some rest, just head in whenever you get up.” 
“Okay,” a soft smile warmed your features. Lately, or the past year actually, they’d let you cut down on your work quite a bit so that your hours at the bakery were significantly less and the only days you were to get up before the sun did was on weekends.
“Bye!” they both called out loudly as they disappeared from your view before your own echo rang throughout the hallway.
“Bye!”
You didn’t manage to unpack much, only half of your books, before the buzzer rang obnoxiously, causing your feet to scramble to let the delivery guy up. 
Swiftly locating your backpack, you fished out your wallet just before a knock boomed at your door. 
“That’ll be twenty bucks,” the pimply-faced pizza guy spoke in a monotone voice as soon as you opened up. 
Catching the shadow of another figure ascend the staircase just before you began to dig through your wallet, his handsome and scruffy features were adorned with a pair of glasses that had a darkly crimson tint to them.
“Yep… uh… do you have change for a fifty?” 
“Nope,” he impatiently blinked before loudly popping his bright blue bubblegum.
“Oh, alright…” you felt your palms begin to sweat, “do you mind just waiting here for a second? I might have some more cash in a jacket… somewhere…”
But just before you could duck back inside, the suit-clad man who had stopped to unlock the door directly opposite yours, whipped his own wallet out and handed off the needed bucks, “here.”
Satisfied, the pizza guy accepted the change and shoved the wide box into your arms before dashing off. 
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you blinked over at your generous, new neighbour, “I can pay you back–”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open. 
“Thanks,” you uttered, slightly windblown in your threshold as he disappeared into his apartment. 
Tumblr media
Slipping into your sneakers and hastily fastening them with sloppy bows, you slugged your jacket on and grabbed your bag. As you exited your apartment, the neighbouring door opened just as you locked up your own. 
“Oh, hi!” you squeaked over your shoulder as you turned the key, “good morning!” 
Your breath got caught in your throat as you turned to face him fully, shoving your bundle of keys into your pocket. Did he look even better than you remembered? Now no longer obscured by the terrible excuses this hallway had for lighting, the frosted window to your right illuminated every detail of him that you’d missed the first time around. 
“Morning,” he replied as he too locked his door behind him. 
Waiting a moment before you began to move your feet, you eyed his polished attire, “are you off to work?”
“Yep,” he nodded and fished out a folded-up cane from the inner pocket of his jacket, “you?”
“Yeah,” you sucked in a breath, “I’m Y/n, by the way, forgot to introduce myself the other night.”
“Matthew,” the bespectacled man extended his hand out for you to shake, “nice to meet you.” 
After ignoring the tingle his touch sent down your spine, the two of you began to descend the stairs.
“Thanks again for what you did with the–, oh! I should pay you back!” you reached into your deep coat pocket to locate your wallet, “I’m pretty sure I have–, how much was it?”
“You don’t have to, it’s fine, really,” he politely declined. 
Reaching the bottom of the staircase, your brows flew up, “seriously?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged as he then held the front door open for you to get out onto the street first. 
“Thank you, Matthew,” you slipped out, waiting a moment before you began to head off, “have a good day!”
“Yeah, you too,” he said, flicking out his cane to its full length, just before you both began to walk in the exact same direction. 
“Oh, wait,” you slowed as a giggle bubbled out of your lungs, “you’re also heading this way?”
“Oh, uhm, yeah.”
“Do you–, uh… I can wait for a little bit and let you get a head start if you–”
“Or you can just walk with me, if you’d like,” he suggested with a gentle smile that made your brain forget for just a split second where your destination was in the first place, “it’s fine with me, I don’t mind the company.”
“Okay,” you agreed in a quiet voice, returning to a brisk pace beside him. You didn’t take too many strides before a casual question nervously fell from your lips, “so, have you lived here long?” 
“In the apartment or Hell’s Kitchen?”
“Oh,” your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, “both, I guess.”
“I’ve been in the apartment for a while,” he told you, “but lived here in the neighbourhood pretty much all my life.”
“Yeah?” you smiled, maybe glancing over at him a bit too much for it to be safe as you walked, “that’s nice.”
“You?”
“Uhm, grew up in Brooklyn, moved here to live with my uncles when I was nine, after my parents passed.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” his low tone emanated an air of kinship. 
“It’s alright. It was a long time ago, I was just a kid... anyways! Enough about me before I spill all of my childhood trauma to you,” you gracelessly changed the subject, “you are in a suit.”
“I–,” a faint laugh tumbled out past his lips before he joked, “I’d sure hope I am and didn’t accidentally change into something else.”
“No–, I mean, yes, obviously,” you felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, “that was just a very weird and backwards way of asking what you do for a living.”
“Ah,” his dark brows lifted in comprehension.
“Let me guess…” you fiddled with your fingers as you thought, “accountant? No… politician? No… funeral director?”
“Funeral di–,” Matthew chuckled, “no.”
“Do you work on Wall Street? Oh, please tell me you don’t because here I was just starting to think you were super cool.”
“No, I don’t work on Wall Street, but good to know that you think I’m cool,” he smirked, making you regret letting that information slip, “I’m a lawyer.”
“A lawyer?” your eyes grew, “seriously?”
“Yep.”
“That’s–... that’s–… waow…” you uttered, completely dumbfounded by the imposing nature of his profession, “well, now I don’t wanna tell you what I do, because it’s so not as impressive.”
“Oh, come on,” he tilted his head, “now you have to tell me.”
“…I’m a baker,” you finally said, “actually,” stopping your stride, you briefly brushed his arm for him to do the same, “this is where I work, right here.” 
“Really?” 
“It’s called Buttercup Bakery,” you glanced up at the familiar storefront, “have you ever been in there?”
“No, never,” his head shook lightly as a small smile warmed up his features, “funny, my office is just a few minutes further down the street, I must have walked passed this place a thousand times but I never noticed it before.”
“Well, you know of its existence now…” you turned your head to gaze at his striking visage once more as he raised a hand to adjust his glasses, “do you wanna get a coffee or something? My treat, as thanks for the pizza.”
“I’d love to,” he sucked in a breath, “but I really have to get going.”
“Oh, yeah, of course,” you nodded lightly, “well, thanks for the walk, have a great day. Hope you win a bunch of cases and–, uh… I don’t know, help make the judicial system better,” you couldn’t help but physically cringed at your clumsy words. 
But your new neighbour didn’t seem to mind as he just chuckled before wandering off, “bye, Y/n.”
The small bell above the glass door to the bakery chimed softly as you pushed it open. The interior was simple, both in colour and design, but had a rustic charm to it that gave it a sense of home. Behind the counter, and the mouth-watering baked goods lined up and displayed behind the clear glass, stood Walter. Facing the long shelves adorned with various loaves, he grabbed a crusty baguette and slid it into an appropriately long brown paper bag.
Handing it off to the little old lady on the other side, he said, “here you are. That’ll be four dollars,” before she placed the money on the counter beside his half-read newspaper and strolled passed you, out of the bakery, “have a good day!”
Leaning back down to return to his paper, Walter didn’t glance up at you as he greeted, “hi, honey! You wanna hear your horoscope for today?”
Tugging down the zipper of your jacket, you joked self-reflectively as you began to shed your layers, “does it say that I’ll miraculously turn into a charming and charismatic adult instead of whatever this is?”
“…uh… no,” he furrowed his brow and finally shot you a brief glance, “it says that you're energized and creative. This new moon initiates two weeks of growing work, health and strength. Put your heart into your actions. Practice makes perfect. Oh, and it also says right here that the spelt flour bin needs refilling and that there are about a billion cardamom buns that need to be shaped.”
“Oh, it says all of that, does it now?”
Tumblr media
Letting a tense breath go, you apprehensively let your fist meet the dark door in three shy knocks. 
As soon as it swung open, the sentence, “do you like croissants?” sputtered out passed your lips. 
Head reeling back slightly at the unforeseen and sudden question, Matt blinked, “what?” 
“Do you like croissants?” you repeated as if it wasn’t strange to just blurt out something like that out of the blue. 
“Uh,” a smile then crept up on his lips, “hello to you too, Y/n.”
“I mean, I’ve personally never met anyone who doesn’t care for them, but I’m sure they exist.”
“Sure, I like croissants.”
“Oh, great, wonderful!”
Leaning against his door, his head tilted as you failed to continue, “…did you just have a burning desire to know that fact about me?”
“Right, no, I–, uhm, there were a bunch leftover today that we didn’t sell, so purely just to not let any go to waste, I thought you’d like some,” you held up the crinkly paper bag for him to hear. 
It had been a lie, but he didn’t have to know that you’d set some aside for him before they all sold out, just to have an excuse to talk to him again. 
“Oh, thank you,” he held out his open palms, “that’s so nice of you.” 
As you handed the bag off into his grasp, you felt as if your heart might beat straight out of your chest.  
“…alright, well…” you stumbled slightly, “I should probably head off to bed. Weekends are always the busiest, so my shifts are usually really long and I have to get up like super early, so... goodnight then!” 
And with that you awkwardly whirled around and scurried the short distance into your own apartment, only faintly catching his warm chuckle as you disappeared. 
“Night.”
Tumblr media
© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
662 notes · View notes
www-zoloft-com · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
it's the Catholic guilt, Foggy, there's no stopping it.
4K notes · View notes
Note
Hello!
If possible could you write a fic with reader and matt in an established relationship and he hears something when he's around them and it starts driving him nuts and then he finally realizes is a tiny heartbeat bc reader is pregnant but doesn't realize it, and he's like overjoyed?
sorry this is my first time requesting lmao
hii!! this is very cute :( very happy to be first to write one of your requests☺️ thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌
HEARTBEATS.
matt murdock x fem!reader
Tumblr media
word count. 481
Recently, whenever Matt was near, he wore an expression you couldn't quite place, looking as though he was concentrating - like his brain was preoccupied. You knew he often had a lot on his mind, so you waited the questioning - wanting him to come to you when he was ready, though he never did. 
Another week had passed, and he continued to model that same sceptical face around you, still no closer to the route of his confusion.
-
You're lying on the sofa, basking in the early evening sunset, nursing your nausea and awaiting Matt to return home from the store. He told you he'd briefly pop out to pick up some things for dinner - that he'd get something to help with your sickness bug, something to ease the upset in your aching body.
You hear the keys jingle in the door, indicating Matt's return home.
"Hey, sweetheart," he calls out, closing the door behind himself. "Sorry about the wait. Was so busy out there," he continues, placing the bags on the counter. He makes his way to you on the couch and takes a seat on his knees in front of you. "How you feeling?" he asks, slipping his hand into yours.
"Gross," you simply reply between a soft breath, closing your eyes. You were starting to feel it again - like the room was spinning. 
His thumb circles over your skin, attempting to ease you. "I'm sorry, angel," he coos, speaking gently. 
Matt props himself higher on his knees, extending to reach himself over your middle. He places a light kiss to your stomach over the fabric of your top and then carefully rests the side of his head in that spot - trying to comfort you. He keeps hold of your hand and laces his fingers between yours, playing with your hand as if to distract you. 
You peek down at Matt on your stomach, watching his brows furrow, seeming like he was focusing - that same darned face again. You extend your spare hand towards his head and nestle your fingers in his hair, soothingly stroking over his scalp. "What is it?" you ask, your confusion mirroring his.
He faintly shakes his head and shushes you softly, a smile growing. 
"Matt?" 
"It's not the flu, honey," he beams at you, lifting his head from your stomach abruptly. "It's not the flu," he repeats, the words almost catching in his throat.
"What do you mean?" you question, following his movements.
"Sweetheart," he coos, drawing out the petname with a gentle nod - like he was trying to prompt you.
"No?" you whisper, speaking in disbelief.
He nods once more, his features softening and melting upon hearing the news. His grip tightens in your hand, and he brings it to his lips, placing another kiss where the last one dried. 
"We're going to have a baby?"
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
some reason when I was writing this it reminded me of when vision said “yes, my love,” to wanda when she got her baby bump🥲 now im sad
594 notes · View notes
deviouz · 1 month
Text
matthew “munch” murdock could spend hours between your legs and it would still never be enough. sometimes he does it for your pleasure, to hear you keen and cry out his name while your deft fingers go to card through his hair to guide him where you needed him the most. when he was feeling nice, he’d entertain your wants, lips and tongue working in tandem as your moans grew breathier and higher in pitch. sometimes he would have to hold your hips down with an arm slung over them, while the other went to shove two fingers knuckle deep into your heat. god, he’d have the smuggest of smirks etched into his features as you gushed around his fingers and let out the most graphic obscenities. he can hear how fast your heart was beating, how you eagerly sucked in breath after breath with every utterance of his name, every plea.
but sometimes matt would return home in a mood, whether it be in a wrinkled four-piece suit with a briefcase in hand, or in the blood-red suit known to strike residents of hell’s kitchen with a fear unlike any other, his tired body covered in an array of cuts and bruises. he won’t be nice when he bullies himself between your thighs, hands forcing your legs apart and fingers digging themselves into your thighs. he won’t let you even touch him. as soon as one of your hands go down to grab at his hair, he’s got it in an iron-tight grip by the wrist as he buries his face deeper into your heat, greedily drinking from your core. he’s not even considering on relenting until you’re damn-near sobbing, until he can taste the salt in the air from your tears and feel the way you tremble beneath him with fruitless hope of reprieve.
361 notes · View notes
grippingbeskar · 2 years
Text
hands off | matt murdock
Tumblr media
matt murdock x fem!reader
word count: 3.6k
warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI (mutual masturbation, mxf intercourse, dirty talk) swearing, established relationship
a/n: okay. OKAY! okay. be gentle with this one because it’s my first matt fic!!! also, i saw this video on tik tok about ppl doing this game thing, but idk who posted it first and i don’t have the videos, but that’s where the dies comes from. also this is literally just smut, don’t even look at me ITS BEEN A LONG WEEK. okay bye. literally posting this and running away to sleep bc i am afraid BYE.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Sooo? You like it?” You keep to your side of the couch as Matt brings the glass up to his mouth for a second time. He hums, swallowing and licking his lips, and you have to bite down on your own to control yourself.
Asshole.
“It’s…”
“What?”
“Sweet.” His voice rumbles. You think you should have tied yourself down or something, because there’s no way you can win this stupid bet if he was going to keep teasing you like this. He wasn’t even doing anything, really. Everything he did seemed to turn you on in some way or the other, especially now, as the alcohol starts to kick in, warmth spreading through your face, flowing all the way down.
It was your idea; this whole bet. You and Matt had been together for a while now, and the longer you spent with him you realised how much of a fucking tease he was. So, in your muddied brain, you decided two could play at that game, even though you were almost certain you would fail miserably. You were, however, planning on giving him a run for his money. Or your money, considering how you had both put two hundred dollars on the table for the winner.
The rules were simple. You drink an entire bottle of wine- your favourite brand, hence the taste testing Matt was currently being put through, and sit on opposite ends of the couch. The first one to break - to touch the other in any way, loses. You were notoriously… frisky, when you drank wine, and Matt thought the game was going to be innocent enough until you started popping more bottles.
“Good sweet or bad sweet?” You say, and he empties the glass, holding it out for you to pour him another.
“I’d give it a good 7 out of 10. I’ve tasted better.” He hears the exasperated gasp of shock, and smiles in a way that’s so classically Matthew that your heart skips a beat. He probably hears that too.
“This is the best thing I have ever had. What could possibly taste better than this?!” You pour him another glass that he downs half of quickly, eager to get to the good part.
“I can think of a few things.” Your breath hitches in your throat, and he smirks, taking another sip.
“That feels like cheating.” Your entire body ignites at the shift in mood, and you nearly shiver when his hand trails along the edge of the couch, moving dangerously close to your shoulder, then retreating back.
“Hey, you said no touching. Nothing in the rules about telling you how much I love your-“
“Okay! Okay. I get it. Finish your glass, cheater.” He downs the rest obediently, placing the glass gently on the table, right next to the stack of fifty dollar notes you had pooled. He was smirking - clearly thinking he was already ten moves ahead of you, but you had a couple tricks up your sleeve to win this thing. Well, one trick.
“So, how do you want to do this?”
“What do you mean?” You finish your glass and get rid of it, the empty wine bottles clanking together somewhere on the floor.
“Well, obviously you are going to lose, so do you want to just give up now, or do we have to play this whole little game first?” Typical. Complete confidence, right from the start.
“Listen, Murdock. One thing you’ll learn about me tonight, is that no matter how incredibly attractive you look right now, I am very competitive. Very. Competitive. Especially when it comes to money, because I am also very broke.” He laughs again, his head hanging back off the couch. “Besides, who says you won’t break first?”
“I’m pretty sure I can take you apart from right here.” His voice has dropped an octave. You recognise that tone in an instant. He only talks to you like that, all commanding and a little mocking; when he’s fucking you. Or about to fuck you. Your whole body reacts to him - you don’t even have a choice in the matter, it’s like a bell rings and you’re switched into that mode. All he needs to do is talk to you like that, and you want to get on your knees and forget all about this stupid bet and-
“Am I right? You think I can make you all sweet and desperate just talking to you?” Yes. He could. He knew it, because he’d done it before, but you weren’t ready to give him the satisfaction. Not when the game had barely started.
“Who says we’re just gonna talk?” You settle back, letting your legs stretch just this side of your half of the couch.
“Is that a threat, honey?” The endearment mixed with his slightly rough tone has you tightening every muscle in your body, and if you didn’t get a hold of yourself you might as well just shreds your money now.
“Just got a few ideas, that’s all.” You blink innocently, and he scoffs.
“I promise we’ll do all the things I know your pretty little head is thinking about right now. All you have to do is give in to it.” The way he’s sitting is so cocky; if he wasn’t so fucking sexy you think you’d slap him. Arms stretched out, one dangling over the back, the other strung lazily across his stomach, making a perfect line down to where his legs are spread as wide as possible. You don’t miss how easy it would be for you to slot yourself in to that spot, to be surrounded by him.
“Hmm. Tempting.” He shrugs, almost saying ‘I know.’ “Or, you could come over here.”
“Now why would I do that?” He asks, leaning forward. You start as slow as possible. This was really the only idea you had to get him to break. Maybe if you threatened it, alluded to it enough, he would forget all about the money and the bet and jump on you.
“Maybe I’ve got something to sweeten the deal.” You trail a slow fingertip up your leg, past your knee and creeping it along your thigh. The fabric of your skirt scrunches up as you get higher, and Matt’s head straightens when he hears it.
“What are you doing?” Still, his voice is that low, gravelly sound that sends shivers up your spine, and you bite your lip to stop a smile before answering him.
“You know how wine makes me.” He knew very, very well, being the object of all your wine-induced fantasies. “I’m all hot, and if you aren’t going to help me…”
“Don’t.” He practically growls, and you let out a breathy laugh as you use your other hand to pull up your skirt completely. He may not be able to see you - but he knows exactly what your doing and how your doing it. He can hear the way you’re moving, the skips in your heartbeat as your finger trails higher and higher. The smell of you, how it changes as you get closer to the wetness between your thighs. He knows. And he looks like he hates it.
Jaw set, he grinds his teeth as you ignore his simple demand. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you touching yourself - he loved it; encouraged it, even, but he wanted to be there for it. Involved in it. If you ever needed that specific kind of relief, he wanted to be the one to give it to you. Even on the few times he’s been away, he’s sent you videos, called you and made sure he was the only one who pushed you over the edge. His name on your tongue as you came to the thought of him, to his words or his pictures. He always wants to be the one. And he always is.
He also has never not been able to touch you, because if you knew one thing, it’s that Matt Murdock was not a man that shared what was his. Especially not you, even with your own hand.
“Stop.” Matt manages to say, and you hum, relishing in the attention he’s focusing on you. You spread your legs a little wider, making yourself comfortable. “That’s cheating.”
“Nothin’ in the rules about touching myself, Matty.” You breathe, and then gasp as your finger brushes over your most sensitive spot, still covered by your lace underwear. “Unless you want to come over here and make me stop?”
“I know what you’re doing. You’ll have to try a little harder than that, sweetheart.” His face is set so hard, like how you’ve seen him in the court room. Focused, not betraying a single emotion on that sweet face of his. You were going to wipe that stoic look off his face one way or the other.
“I’m gonna take these off.” You narrate, hooking your fingertips under the seam of your underwear, and start to slowly pull them down your legs. As you get about halfway, the fabric bunching over your knees, you sigh sweetly. “Help me out, baby?”
He exhales in a short, sharp laugh. He wasn’t technically touching you, and you both knew it was the closest he could get without forfeiting. Leaning forward, he used one hand to grab the part of your underwear not touching any skin, and starts pulls them down. The soft material slips over your shins and calves, and you know he’s going slow on purpose. You lift your feet up so he can remove them fully, and you watch intently as his thumb brushes over his new prize.
“The purple ones?” He recognises the fabric and you moan out a ‘mhmm’. “My favourite.”
“I know.” You let your legs fall open again, and you could of sworn you heard a small sound come from him at the movement. A crack in the ice. It ignites your confidence, and makes you want to keep going. Keep pushing. “Wore them for you.”
“Such a good girl, all the time. You wouldn’t be this mean. Not to me, right?” The words were sweet as honey. You loved when he spoke to you like that - with praise and a little bit of authority. It made you squirm, but you had to hold it together a bit longer. String him out a little further. You just moan again, your hand finding it’s destination, one finger running up and down in between your legs, brushing over your clit lightly. Just how he teases you. You see his face change. “You’re going to regret this.”
“But it feels so good, Matty.” His grip on the back of the couch tightens.
“Better than me?” You shake your head vehemently, appeasing his ego and moaning a negative incase he can’t figure out your answer from the sound of your movement.
“Nothin’ better than you.”
“I know, baby. Why don’t you let me take care of you? Come just a little closer, and I’ll make it all better.” Your toes curl, and you start to make small, tight circles right over your soft centre, nerves alight and sending shocks up your entire body. His voice is all you’ll need to get there, you just need him to keep talking.
“I can’t. You know I can’t.” Your jaw falls open, no longer able to hold it together. “Just want you so bad.”
“If you want me so bad, come here.” His tone is a little more demanding. Frustrated. Stubborn. Another crack. You resist the urge to smile.
“Will you- will you tell me? What you’d do if you could touch me?” He sits up, unzipping his pants and shoving them off aggressively. His erection is impossible to ignore, and your mouth waters at the sight of it when he pulls his boxers down and lets himself free.
“That’s what you want? You want me to tell you all the things I’m going to do to you when you break?” You don’t miss the cockiness in his words, but you just moan again, too lost in the feeling of your fingers against your clit. “Fuck. Okay - okay, slow down.”
You listen, obedient even when defiant. He can hear the sounds of your hands against your arousal slow to about half the speed, and the orgasm that was growing in your stomach is now only being stoked, your legs jolting every time you brush against your clit.
“Good fucking girl. I always go slow first, don’t I?”
“Mhmm.” You moan out, and he chuckles. The fucker was laughing at you. Pay back was going to be a bitch. You were really about to give in, then. Not now, though. If he was stubborn, you were going to beat him at that game, too.
“That’s it. Nice and slow for me. Want you all warmed up when you make yourself cum on my cock.” Oh. God - maybe you couldn’t outlast him. It was those kinds of words, sung to you in a voice so low and clear it was impossible to listen to anything else, that was what did it for you. What undid you every time. Fuck being stubborn.
“Oh God, Matt. Please - c-can I go faster?” He wraps his hand around the base of his cock, and you are mesmerised as he pumps his hand just once, eyebrows furrowed.
“Yeah, sweetheart. You can go a little faster. Since you asked me so nice. I’d do it for you.” You speed up, the fire in your tummy getting more aggressive as soon as you indulge the feeling. He pumps up and down once more, and his face screws up a little. Not in pleasure entirely, but something a little uncomfortable. At first you think it might be the situation, but then you look down, and recognise his problem. Your submissive side instantly takes over, your brain only knowing to do what you knew he wants. What he needs.
“You want me to help you, baby?” Matt swallows as he feels you get closer, but nods just once, taking his hand off himself. You hover above him, making sure he can feel the heat of your breath kissing the sensitive head of his cock as you angle down closer. God - what you wouldn’t give to wrap your mouth around him right now. You miss the taste of him - the feel of his hand threaded through your hair, how he tangles himself into it to feel the most of you that he possibly can.
Slowly, you let your spit drip down his length, alleviating the uncomfortable feeling of his dry hand. He doesn’t move, just lets you take your time getting him as wet as you are. Matt’s chest rises and falls so fast you think he might pass out, and his head is hung back so far that you can’t see his face from this angle. You bet it’s screwed up, and his mouth is open a little. He always looks so good when he’s strung out.
You start to retreat, careful not to brush against him as you sit back on your half of the couch, satisfied with your work. His hand wraps around his cock as soon as he feels your body heat move away, and the pain once etched on his face is replaced by only pure pleasure. The sight of him has you quickly returning your hand to your pussy, matching the pace he sets.
“Thank you.” He croaks out, and you silently high five yourself for how fucking ruined he sounds.
“Your welcome.” You sound exactly the same.
“God - I want to fuck you so badly right now.” He sighs, moaning your name as he starts pumping his hand harder, hips bucking irregularly. “You know it’d feel so good.”
“It would. You always fuc-“ You cry out as a wave of pleasure suddenly hits your chest, the new rhythm he was setting on himself having you seeing stars. “Always feel so good. Miss having you inside me.”
“Come here. Now.” He says through his teeth, and you just keep moaning out his name. He tries a new approach. “Baby. Baby, please come here. I’ll -I’ll let you cum so many times you won’t remember your fucking name. Just give it up already. I know you want to.” A new crack of determination nuzzles its way through the overwhelming pleasure at his words. Maybe it’s because it’s not actually Matt touching you right now that you are able to form a thought, but his words have you speeding up. Let you come.
Asshole.
“Fuck, Matty. I’m so cl-close - I think I’m gonna-“
“Don’t you fucking dare.” He almost shouts, hand pumping furiously at his cock as he cuts you off. It almost looks like it hurts, and maybe it does a little, but the sounds of his hand moving against himself with your spit is making your brain go fuzzy. Trying your best to keep up with him, your back arches off the couch and you turn your head to the couch cushion.
“Can’t stop, feels too good I just-“ The burn in your arm is secondary to the release you were chasing, and it was so close. You knew what you needed. He had gone silent, because he knew, too. If he spoke, that would be it. He had such a hold on you that all it would take would be a few well placed words and you would crumble in front of him, and for the first time, it was the last thing he wanted.
“Slow down. Right now.” Your back was arching off the couch, and it was an effort not to stretch your legs out. Bunched up on your end, your eyes were glued to Matthew, his abs flexing hard and free hand still fisting the couch, white knuckled. “Do not fucking finish without me.”
The tone of his voice was so low and harsh, he wasn’t meaning to but he was only making it worse. Teetering on the edge, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from talking.
“I wish you were touching me right now. Your hands feel so rough sometimes and I always think about it, think about how good it feels on me.” Your eyes were squeezed shut, the words flowing out of you from the darkest parts of your tipsy mind.
“Baby just-“ His hand gets faster, you can hear it, his restraint snapping little by little. “You just gotta come over here. Please.” You try to block out how hot he sounds begging for a glimpse of you, so you keep talking yourself through it, thinking of the things he would say if he was fucking you.
“I want you to fuck me through this couch, make me feel you for days like you always do. Want you to…” A gasping breath cuts you off, and it takes you a moment to regain your focus, the pleasure nearly cutting off your air supply making you hiccup.
“Finish your sentence. What do you want?” He was sitting straight up, leaning so close that if you moved and inch you’d feel him. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted him to touch you as badly as you wanted it right now - and that was fucking saying something.
You’d give it one more minute.
You think you can hold out for that long. One single minute of keeping yourself on the edge, one more minute to see if you can break Murdock like he breaks you every time. If you reached a minute and he wasn’t either buried between your legs or inside of you, you think you would implode.
“I- I want you to fuck me like you did when you came home last week. Leave a mark so I could feel it for days and-“
“That’s it. Keep fucking talking.” Your eyes open for a second and he’s kneeling, the hand on the top of the couch right next to your head. You hadn’t even heard him move, but now he was practically hanging over you, almost between your legs. Maybe your words effect him just like his do to you. “You sound so pretty. Keep talking for me, okay?”
“Matty, please just touch me. I need you to mmmmfuck- make me feel good.” He chokes out a desperate sound, and you shut your eyes again, no longer able to bare the sight above you if you couldn’t touch him.
“You need me?” You whine below him, nodding and making sure he knows just how bad he was right. It was a low blow, one you knew would make him even more desperate. Those simple words always got you what you wanted, no matter how long he had been playing with you. “Yeah, you fucking need me. Just need me to touch you so bad. Mark you up. Bet you’d cum as soon as I slid inside you, huh? Already so wet, I can fucking hear it.”
“Need you. Please.” You wheeze, and hear another choked sound leave his mouth. The couch shifts underneath you. Every nerve in your body was begging for him- you were begging for him, a string of pleases mixed with his name. If only either of you was less stubborn this stupid game would have been over long ago.
“You sound good like that. Begging for me. Keep going, tell me how bad you need it.”
“I’ll do whatever you want. Whate- Whatever you want. Just please. Please, please, please…” You sounded like you were having a tantrum, so close on the edge you were almost sobbing his name in ecstasy.
This was it. It probably hadn’t been a minute but you just couldn’t hold out any longer. Fuck the bet, fuck the stupid money. Nothing was worth not feeling him, having him just out of reach, you were so fucking close-
Matt’s hand brushes against your cheek, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear, and his thumb wipes away a tear you hadn’t realised had fallen on your cheek. It was soft; gentle.
He kisses you softly, and his hand takes over the work, replacing your own and keeping that hard, tight pace on your clit. The feeling was earth shattering - the difference between your hand and his somehow night and day, and when you kiss him back, you realise he just lost. He lost, not so he could fuck you, but so he could kiss you.
“I’m right here, sweetheart. Hm?” He murmurs, the hot air of his breath fanning over your forehead as his hand works at you, and all you could do what sob his name. “Cum for me. I earnt it.”
With that, he slides himself inside of you, and everything turns white.
“Fuck - yes.” You moan out and your cumming as soon as he hits the deepest part of you. He’s suddenly everywhere - an arm under your arched back pulling you against his chest, his mouth on yours muffling your wrecked moans of pleasure, his cock buried inside of you, hitting you hard and fast and desperate; just how you feel.
He isn’t far behind you, giving you exactly what you wanted and finishing inside, so deep you’d feel him for fucking weeks after this. He was making noises you’d never heard from him before - nearly whining with how much he needed you, his whole body tense as you ran your hands over every part you could feel, while your other hand scrunched into his hair.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Is all he was saying into your mouth, fucking you - using you to get through his high while simultaneously working you through yours. His lips moved to your neck, biting and kissing you all over. It was borderline territorial, and you were a whimpering mess underneath him, pinned to the couch taking whatever he wanted to give you and praying for more.
His hips eventually began to stutter in their pace, then slow to a stop- minutes or hours after he came. Time hardly registered, just him finally surrounding you like you’ve been wanting.
“Matt. Matt-“ His mouth was still attached to your neck, and you couldn’t imagine what you looked like, but it filled you with a sort of pride. You almost wanted him to keep going, but you wanted him to kiss you more, so you tugged on the strands of hair threaded in your hands. “Matt. You-“
“I know, baby. Don’t move.” The words echo through you, the command exactly the one you said to him earlier. He slowly slips out of you, never taking his hands off your body, and in one movement curls you up and pulls you completely to his side of the couch.
Finally, you can stretch out, your muscles like jelly as your legs tangle with his. Your head leans back to rest against his chest, which is still rising and falling too fast for normal. Admittedly, so is yours, as well as the occasional twitch in your legs from the pleasure dissipating through your body. Strong arms wrap around your chest and tummy, holding you tight, and he leans his head down to kiss your cheek.
“We are never doing that again.” He mumbles into the crook of your neck, and you laugh breathlessly.
“You didn’t like it?” He groans at your question.
“Baby, I fucking loved it, but I hated not being able to touch you.” He was whining now, and your hand snaked up, scratching lightly through his hair. You think he would of purred if he could. “You’re mine. Don’t like it when you try to come without me.”
“Mmm. You were too far away.” You agreed.
“Was hot, though.” You laugh again and he switches sides to kiss your other cheek, forcing you to look to the other side, where your eyes catch on the significant stack of money.
“I won.” You whisper into his ear, smiling, and he groans again.
“Stupid game.” He grumbles, teeth scraping lightly along the top of your shoulder, making you shiver. “Still made you cum.”
“We can always have a re-match.” He was still mumbling and groaning against you about how dumb the idea was, but you can feel his grin as you laugh.
“I got a different game in mind.” He whispers into your ear, and in the next moment you are in the air, being swept up and carried towards your shared bedroom.
“And what’s that?”
“How about I show you?” He kicks the door closed behind him, and lays you down on the bed slow and sweet before making true of his promise and destroying you from the inside out, just like he always did.
7K notes · View notes
writingdumpster · 1 year
Text
good boyfriend
pairing: Matt Murdock x reader
warnings: SMUT 18+, fem receiving oral, fingering, male receiving oral, cum eating, daddy! kink, p in v, creampie
summary: Matt's worried about being a good boyfriend because he's never had a relationship as serious as yours. To assure him he's a good boyfriend you tell him you love him the first time.
word count: 2,700
Tumblr media
“Come back to bed, Matty.” 
You were wrapped up in his blankets looking over at Matt who was pulling clothes out of his dresser. He had only gotten you to let him out of your arms when he threatened to pee on you. But now he was defying his orders to immediately return to bed. 
“Foggy called,” he said. “We’ve got a problem with the Asimov case.” He picked up a shirt and then went to sit on the edge of the bed. 
“Let Foggy handle it,” you said. Matt rested his hand on your hip over the blanket as he smiled down at you. 
“We’re partners, sweetheart,” he said. 
“No, you’re a control freak,” you said flatly. 
“I am not a control freak,” Matt said with a laugh. 
“Aren’t you, daddy?” You teased him. 
“Don’t start,” Matt warned. You sighed. 
“Matty, you told me that we’d have the whole weekend together,” you complained. 
“And we will, sweetheart. I’ll only be gone a few hours. It’s just a quick meeting,” he said. Matt started to rise. You reached forward and grabbed the hand that Matt had resting on your hip. 
“You promised, Matt.” Matt could feel the way you were staring at him. He could sense the disappointment in your expression and taste the salt in the air as tears welled in your eyes. It was the use of his name that changed his mind. You didn’t call him ‘Matt.’ Ever. You called him ‘Matty,’ or ‘Murdock,’ and even the occasional ‘Matthew,’ but never Matt. Not since your second date. He had to stay. 
“I did, didn’t I?” He asked rhetorically. 
“Yes. You did,” you said firmly. He nodded. 
“I’ll call Foggy and tell him I can’t go,” he said. He heard your face move as you smiled. 
“Thank you, Matty,” you said. 
“You don’t need to thank me,” Matt said. “I promised you. Wouldn’t be a very good boyfriend if I didn’t keep my promises.” 
“You’re a good boyfriend, Matthew,” you said softly. You tugged on his hand, pulling it up to your lips to kiss his knuckles. 
“Am I? Really?” His voice was raw and you could hear the fear in his tone. 
“Matty,” you murmured. You sat up from the bed and swung your legs over the edge so you could face Matt properly. You took his other hand in yours, your fingers tangling between his. “Are you serious?” 
“Yeah, I mean…I’ve never been with someone this long. I don’t know how I’m doing. And it’s not like I’m…normal,” he said. You chuckled. 
“You think I want someone normal?” You teased him. 
“You know what I mean, sweetheart. You got a lot more than you bargained for with me,” Matt said. There was worry on his face. You hated to see him like that, especially on his day off. You looked up at him. You still had his hands in yours but he felt miles away. 
“Sit down with me, Matty,” you called to him as you tugged on his arms. Matt smiled softly, the expression on his face lightening. He sat on the edge of the mattress, but you pulled him back further onto the bed so you could seat yourself in his lap, straddling his hips. He chuckled as you shoved him around.
“Was pushing me necessary to the conversation?” Matt asked as his hands settled on your ass. You pushed your hands against his chest gently.
“Sorry, do you want me to get off?” You taunted him. His grip on your body tightened. 
“Don’t you dare,” he said. You giggled as you slid your hands over his chest up to his shoulders, one of them reaching behind his neck to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. There was a moment of quiet as you looked over every inch of Matt. He smiled softly as he felt the way you were looking at him, knowing that just as he did with you, you paid attention to every detail of him that you could sense. 
“You’re a good boyfriend, Matthew,” you said after a moment. 
“You swear?” He asked. 
“Matty, the vase in my kitchen hasn’t been empty since we started dating,” you said. 
“Anyone could buy you flowers,” he said. He was a true Catholic, never taking credit for any of the good things he did.  
“But no one else ever has,” you told him. A frown remained on Matt’s face. You were searching for what to say to him to make him understand just how good he really was. “You are the best boyfriend I’ve ever had, Matty,” you said frankly.
“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” he said dismissively. He looked so forlorn and it was breaking your heart. You took a deep breath, gearing up to tell him something you had known for a while, but had been too afraid to say. 
“I love you,” you said. Matt’s head snapped up to face you. 
“Really?” He asked in disbelief. You smiled softly at him. 
“Yeah, Matty. I love you. A lot, actually,” you told him. Matt grinned. 
“I love you too,” he said. “Also a lot,” he added. You chuckled lightly. You leaned forward and kissed Matt gently, but he pulled you in closer, sliding his tongue into your mouth and moving it against yours. His hands explored the curves of your body beneath the old Columbia shirt of his you were wearing. 
“Let me show you, sweetheart. Let me make you feel my love,” Matt murmured against your lips. “Please, baby,” he pleaded when you didn’t respond immediately. 
“Show me, Matty,” you drawled. “I want to feel you.” Matt let out a low groan. He pushed you down onto your back sliding down between your legs. His fingers were drawing lines down your sides as he settled on his stomach. He found the waistband of your underwear. His head turned in your direction. 
“May I?” Matt asked. You nodded. 
“Please,” you whispered. He smirked as he tugged down your underwear. He pushed your legs apart and reached out his hand running his thumb along your opening. You were wet already. You were wet pretty much any time you were around Matt. He knew and he relished in the smell of you any time he was around you. It cut above the perfume you wore and the scented shampoo. It haunted his senses and made him desperate for you anytime you were near. 
“Hmm,” he hummed contentedly. “So wet. Is it for me?” His voice sounded innocent somehow. Sweet and unassuming. Like he didn’t already know the answer. 
“Of course it’s for you, Matty. Always you. Only you.” Matt moaned. 
“I love you,” he whispered. 
“I love you t—ahh!” Matt dove his tongue into your pussy, slurping at your hole before moving to lick circles around your clit. 
“You taste so fucking good, sweetheart,” he muttered against you. “Absolutely divine.”
“Feels so good, Matty,” you murmured. Matt alternated between fucking you with his tongue, suckling on your clit, and licking circles around it. He listened closely to your heart and your breathing, focusing on the same spot whenever your heart picked up a bit or your breath caught in your throat. “Matty?”
“Hmm?” He hummed against you. You moaned wildly at the vibrations 
“Your fingers,” you panted out. Two of his fingers found your entrance plunging into you at once. You moaned loudly as Matt began thrusting his ring and middle fingers in a solid rhythm against your walls. 
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured against your body. “Give me what I want.” You let out a strangled moan as Matt wrapped his lips around your clit once more and sucked harshly, making your orgasm crash into you like a tidal wave. Matt kept his movements against your body until he felt your hand pulling at his hair tugging his head away from your body. “Feel good?” He teased you. He listened as you caught your breath, relishing in every moment that you were unable to speak. You smiled at Matt when you had recovered. You pulled him up your body and pushed him onto his back. 
“Your turn, Murdock,” you sang sweetly. Matt listened as you grabbed his underwear and pulled them down his legs. His hard cock sprang up, finally free of its constraints. You let out a small hum of pleasure at the sight and Matt smirked. 
“You like what you see, sweet girl?” He taunted. 
“You know I do,” you said as you settled between his legs. You reached forward and wrapped your fingers around the base of Matt’s cock. His breath hitched. You gave him a gentle squeeze. “Mmm. Can’t wait to have you inside me.” 
“We can skip to that part,” Matt called down. You chuckled. 
“No, Murdock. You’ve gotta feel how much I love you too,” you said. Before he could reply you leaned down and took the tip of his dick in your mouth. Matt moaned roughly. You sucked at the tip, sliding your tongue through the slit at the top of his cock. His breathing was growing more and more ragged, but you were still focusing only on the tip. 
“Take the whole thing, baby. Please,” Matt whined. You hummed a ‘no’ around him and he let out a whimper. “Please, baby. Please. Just a little bit more, baby. Just a little deeper.” You kept your focus on his tip and Matt gave a pained whine. He threw his head back against the mattress in frustration. You smiled around him before pushing yourself down his whole cock, letting him hit the back of your throat. 
“Fuck, baby!” Matt shouted. He jerked his hips against you and moaned loudly. You bobbed your head up and down a few times, moving your hand in unison with your mouth. Matt was gasping and whimpering when you took his balls in your free hand, squeezing them gently. 
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come,” Matt cried. “Don’t stop, feels so good!” His hand went to your hair, winding into it so he could control your movements slightly. You only made a few more strokes before you felt him spilling into your mouth. Matt was moaning and his hips were shaking against the mattress. You hummed happily at the taste of his cum, swallowing every drop. You leaned back onto your knees and smiled down at him as he came down from his high, gasping and twitching as he settled.
“Can you go again?” You asked when he had calmed. Matt chuckled. 
“For you? Always.” He said. He sat up from the mattress and smashed his mouth against yours. He wrapped his arms around you and flipped you over, throwing you onto your back. You giggled. Matt was kissing all down your body, every inch of you covered by him in some way or another. 
“Do you need a minute?” You asked. Matt’s lips popped off your nipple, licking over the nub before moving his lips up to your neck. 
“Tell me you love me again,” Matt murmured against your neck. You smiled. 
“I love you, Matthew Murdock. More than I’ve ever loved anyone,” you sang. Matt moaned deeply. 
“I don’t need a minute,” he said. You looked down and saw that he was hard again. You felt your heart throb as you realized that your love was what turned Matt on. You let out a small moan of your own. 
“Please, Matty,” you whined. Matt lined his tip up with your soaked entrance. He slowly began pushing into you, both of you moaning in unison as his cock stretched you out. You could feel every inch of him filling the emptiness that you felt when he wasn’t around. He was deep inside you, reaching places in your body that no other man had touched. He started to pull out again once he was all the way inside you, but you grabbed his hips and pulled his body into yours. 
“Wait!” You called. “I need to feel you this way,” you said. Matt nodded. He pushed deeper into you, so that there wasn’t any space between the two of you. “God, you’re so deep, Matty.” Your cunt flexed around Matt and he groaned. 
“Fuck, baby,” he muttered. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight.” 
“It’s your pussy, Matty. Belongs to you,” you moaned. Your hands moved to Matt’s shoulders, holding him firmly. “Fuck me, Matty.” Matt shifted onto his forearms and began slowly moving his hips against you. You lifted your legs and wrapped them around his hips. He began to hit you at a deeper angle as he sped up, creating a steady rhythm against your body. You started moaning roughly as Matt began rolling his hips. You dug your nails into his back. 
“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” He taunted. You nodded and let out a strangled moan in agreement. 
“Love your cock, Matty!” You cried roughly. He grabbed your legs, unhooking them from his body. 
“Turn over and get on your knees,” Matt instructed you as he pulled out. You whined when you felt empty again, but quickly followed his instructions. Matt took your hip in one hand and his cock in the other. He lined himself up and pushed his tip into you. He stilled his hips once he’d gotten his head in. You looked over your shoulder at him, wondering what the hold up was and saw him grinning at you. You were about to question him when he opened his mouth. “Work for it.” 
“Yes, daddy,” you said. You turned back to face forward as you pushed your hips back against Matt. He moaned roughly as he felt you wrapped all the way around him once more. You began pushing your hips back against him in a steady rhythm, pulling moans from yourself as you worked against his cock. 
“I need you deeper,” you cried. Matt leaned forward and grabbed your shoulder, pulling you away from the mattress and against his chest. He grabbed your arms, holding them behind your back. He began thrusting into you quickly, slamming his hips against yours. 
“Is this deep enough for you, baby?” Matt whispered in your ear. You felt his cock pushing into the wall of your stomach as his relentless movements continued. 
“Yes, daddy! Feels so good!” You screamed. Matt reached around your body with his free hand and began rubbing quick circles on your clit. The noise you made was almost inhuman in the amount of pleasure it proved. 
“Come on my cock and I’ll fill you up, sweetheart,” Matt growled into your ear. 
“Ohh! Fu–u–uck, Matty!” You cried. His words were enough to push you into your orgasm and you let out a high pitched whine as pleasure overtook your body. You shook uncontrollably in Matt’s arms and your eyes rolled back in your head. Your walls were pulsing relentlessly against his cock and he let out a deafening groan as he came into you. He fell forward onto the mattress, trapping your body beneath him as you milked him of everything he had to give you. 
You were both catching your breaths, your minds reconnecting with your bodies after the overwhelming pleasure of the orgasms you’d given each other. 
“You’re squishing me,” you murmured against the pillow when you had calmed. Matt pushed off you immediately, rolling to your side. 
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured. You shifted onto your side so you could face him and reached out to push some of the sweaty hairs off his forehead. 
“It’s okay, Matty. I still love you,” you said with a grin. Matt grinned right back. 
“I love hearing that from you,” he said sweetly. 
“I love being able to say it,” you said. Matt leaned forward and kissed you chastely. He was smiling in your direction, clearly dazed by how much he was hopelessly in love with you when panic spread over his face. 
“Shit!” He shouted and shot up from the bed, hands digging through his bedside table.
“What?” You questioned as you sat up from the mattress. 
“I didn’t call Foggy!”
4K notes · View notes
talesofesther · 7 months
Text
heartbeats
Matt Murdock x Reader
Summary: Matt could recognize your heartbeat from a mile away. Today, however, you are not alone. There's another heartbeat moving with yours; it's gentle, small, and different, but it's there with you.
A/N: A little cute story that I wrote on a whim. <3
Masterlist
Tumblr media
There was a time when Matt didn't think he could find happiness, maybe even considered himself undeserving of it. A time where he saw nothing but loneliness in his future; part of him was okay with it, saying it was safer this way; and the other part felt hollow, empty.
Unknowingly though, you put an end to that time.
You came into his life unexpectedly, unplanned, and quite suddenly. The day had been rainy—sun rising with a slight drizzle and moon appearing in the distance with a downpour—it was dark out when Matt was making his way out of the subway, the sound of heavy rain hitting the pavement overwhelmed his senses; and then, there was a soft tap on his shoulder. Matt had heard your heartbeat before you even touched him, it was steady, strong yet somehow gentle; when you spoke, voice sweet as honey to his ears, Matt figured your heartbeat was the most perfect he'd ever heard. You ended up asking if he wanted you to walk him somewhere, given that you had an umbrella and Matt didn't. He'd call it a bit of a cliche meeting, but maybe cliche was just what Matt needed. A few days later he asked you out for dinner, as thanks for your kindness, of course.
You entered his life suddenly, and then never left again.
And now, as Matt expertly chops vegetables on his counter, he smiles to himself at the memory from nearly a year ago. It's a Friday night and you'll be arriving from work shortly. Matt makes dinner on Fridays, you never ask him to, but he likes to hear the smile on your voice whenever you walk in and smell the fresh food in the air of his apartment.
The door downstairs is opened then, and Matt could recognize your heartbeat from a mile away. This has been your routine for quite some time now, yet every time Matt feels your heart coming closer to his, he feels this shiver running up and down his spine, this soft twisting of his stomach—maybe it's because he loves you.
Today, however, you are not alone. Matt lets go of the knife and vegetables in his hands, cleaning them in a towel before coming to stand in his living room; his brows furrow as he focuses his hearing. There's another heartbeat moving with yours; it's gentle, small, and different, but it's there with you.
Matt holds his breath when he finally hears you opening the door of his apartment, and he's already smiling when he hears you taking off your shoes and letting go of your purse—you feel at home with him, and his heart swells with joy.
"Matty?" You call for him as you round the corner and step into his living room. There's a mix of excitement and apprehension in your voice.
"Sweetheart, hi." His instinct is to immediately take you in his arms and kiss you until he runs short of breath, but he still hears that soft heartbeat accompanying your own, and he feels glued to the floor.
"Is everything okay?" Matt asks, his worry escaping him as he fiddles with the edge of his sleeves.
"Yes," you chuckle, and the sound lights Matt up. "But, as I was walking back home, I came across... something." You explain slowly, taking a tentative step closer to Matt.
Matt feels you taking hold of his hand, his thumb instantly runs over your knuckles to feel just a bit more of your skin. You're holding your breath now, and Matt doesn't know why until... his fingers buried into something soft, nearly velvety; it's fur, he quickly realizes as he moves his hand—carefully, gently—and reaches a pair of pointy ears and thin whiskers.
A cat. You brought home a cat.
"She's a stray," you explain in a near whisper, "she was all alone in the streets, terrified of the heavy traffic. I couldn't leave her there."
He's not sure why, but Matt feels the back of his eyes burning. Maybe it's because you're so purely good that the mere thought of any animal being in distress is enough to trouble you. Maybe it's because you brought this cat to his apartment instead of yours, and it reminds him that you spend nearly all of your time here nowadays. Or maybe it's just because amidst the soft fur, Matt can still feel your own hand holding onto his, and in some way, this feels like a promise; that you love him too, that you want to stay.
"What does she look like?" Matt manages to croak out.
He hears that beautiful smile of yours when you speak; "She has grey fur, with a few white marks around her body, and big yellow eyes. She's also really small."
"Yeah, I can tell," Matt's own smile escapes him again as he runs his hand over the cat, feeling the small frame of her laying on your arms.
You get on your tip toes so you can press a kiss to Matt's lips, his free hand instantly finds the small of your back, holding you to him just a tad longer. "We don't have to keep her, I just wanted to get her safe for the night and then we can take her to a shelter in the morning," you suggest.
Matt pouts, his brows furrowing comically, "but I'm already attached."
You're chuckling again and Matt knows that was the right choice. The cat, however, seems fed up with your excitement, she jumps from your arms and begins to explore every nook and cranny of Matt's apartment.
With your arms now free, you bring them around Matt's neck, placing little pecks along his jaw, "Good, because I kind of am too."
Matt hugs you close, tightly. He can hear the soft pitter-patter of paws roaming around his apartment, along with the steady rhythm of his favorite heartbeat. He thinks he can used to this; to happiness.
"She'll need a name, you know."
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
You do not have permission to repost, copy or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.
Matt’s taglist:@milkiane @v1ci0us
647 notes · View notes
xxeycisxx · 7 months
Text
Just like that, sweetheart
Tumblr media
Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
Summary: you're relaxing with Matt on a lazy sunday afternoon, but Matt gets bored.
TW: unprotected sex, fingering, cockwarming, oral, praise kink, dom Matt, reader is submissive. MDNI
might contain some typos.
taglist: @its-carlerrr
-masterlist here
You were both lying on the couch, it was a Sunday afternoon, your head was resting on his naked stomach and his hand was gently playing with strands of your hair between his fingers. You felt his calm breath, heard his heartbeat through his skin that radiated with warmth and made you feel completely at peace. Hot wind swept across your exposed thighs, noise from the street coming through the window, 
Your hands were resting on his spreaded thighs, you wanted to touch him, always, as much as you could. It was like your body was physically addicted to his. Feeling him inside you, entering your body and making you his home was the best thing you could experience as a human. The way he touched you, roughly, but somehow with love and tenderness. You loved when he was rough with you. And he loved it too. You belonged to him and he belonged to you. Your bodies were inseparable. 
You loved him so much.
“You wanted to watch that movie,” you completely forgot about the movie, honestly. Yes, you were feeling lazy and wanted to spend some time doing nothing with Matt. But he is just such a distracting man. 
“What are you talking about? I am watching the movie,” you lied. You knew your thoughts were already somewhere else, thinking about his tongue between your thighs, how he kissed his way into your cunt and toyed with your clit until it made you cum an hour ago. You already felt wetness spreading between your legs, but you couldn’t help yourself. He made you feel that way, not you. 
“How can you expect me to just sit here and listen to that damn movie when I can taste you in the air again?” he knew. He always knew, and you liked that, you liked that he knew what he was doing to you. How much you wanted him.
“I am just watching the movie, Matthew,” you were teasing him, and he loved when you were doing that. And he loved even more what always came after that. 
To be honest, you really weren’t ready for him again, your pussy was still a bit sore from before, but you wanted him. You noticed his dick between his legs, desperately trying to get out of his boxers, just a couple inches from your face. It was a hot afternoon, neither of you didn’t bother with clothes, so there was no way of hiding it. 
“Yeah baby? Just watching a movie?” he teased back, his right hand slipped down your back, right between your legs. He put your panties aside with his skilled fingers, that you were already eager to suck on, and started sliding them up and down your slit, spreading your wetness all over your sensitive cunt. 
“So you don’t want me here, right?” he smiled, his fingers found your clit again, but made barely any contact, just playing with you. 
“I am just watching the movie, baby,” you really tried to hide your moan, but he could still hear it in your voice. His dick could hear it too, it was almost painful, how much he wanted you.
“Well, you don’t need your mouth now, right baby?” his hand slipped inside his boxers and his cock sprung out. He was huge and there was a little bit of precum already coming out from his tip. Your mouth started salivating just at the sight.
“Just let me put it in there for a bit,” his voice was deep, filled with lust. His hand grabbed his cock and aimed it to your mouth.
“Just open your mouth for me, baby, just want to feel you,” you did what he said and slightly opened your mouth. His tip slowly slid inside and you could finally taste his nectar on your tongue, you started sucking on his tip lightly. 
“That’s my good girl, just like that,” you loved when he said that, you would do anything to just hear him say those words to you. 
His tip stayed in, you continued to lightly suck on him, then gently switched to playing with your tongue on him, exploring him lazily. He loved it, you could feel his breaths get deeper and his heart started to race.
“I know you like that, baby, I can feel you getting wetter,” his fingers were still pushing on your clit, but were not moving at all. You tried to stay calm and focus on his dick inside your mouth. 
“My sweet slut likes to have my cock in her mouth, huh?” his other hand started stroking your hair, rewarding you. You moaned, your pussy was clenching around nothing, already asking for what was now in your mouth. 
“Suck on me again, baby, c’mon, make me feel good,” you obeyed, taking a little more of him in. He tasted so sweet, you could taste more precum on your tongue and moaned again. 
“Good, good girl, you’re doing so well taking care of my cock,” he knew how to make you desperate and he knew how to drive you crazy only using words. Your pussy started to move, creating that sweet friction with his fingers, that were still between your folds. But right after you started, his fingers were gone.
“You wanted to watch the movie, didn’t you?” you could practically hear that smug smile on his face. You moaned desperately in protest, but his hand kept your head firmly on his cock. There was no way out and honestly, you loved every second of it, you loved how his dick was twitching against your tongue, how you could feel how much he wanted you and loved what you were doing to him. But you needed more. 
“Stay like that, baby, make me feel good, okay?” he said. You could feel his hand moving from your hips to your breasts. You were only wearing a tank top, so your nipples were already exposed and hard against the thin fabric. Matt’s fingers found your nipple and started squeezing it between his fingers through your shirt. Your moans vibrated on his dick, making him moan quietly too. 
“Just like that,” you loved when Matt gave orders like that. You budged back a little, so you could spit on his dick and spread it out on him with your tongue. Then, gently, you took him back inside, your tongue caressing him, making him feel good.
You stayed like that for some time. Matt didn’t stop playing with your nipples for a second, tugging them, squeezing them, or just lightly touching them. He knew he was teasing you, preparing you for what he had in store for you and you tried to focus on his cock, which was still resting in your mouth.
Then, finally, the movie was over. 
Your heart was racing, your pussy clenching and completely wet, so empty, just waiting for anything that Matt could give you. 
“Fucking finally,” Matt said roughly, he thought about finishing inside your mouth like ten times, but he wanted you to cum on his dick now. He took his dick out of your mouth quickly and stood up behind you. You barely managed to realize what was happening and he was already pushing his dick inside you. 
“You’re always so wet for me, baby, I love that,” he gritted through his teeth. You could tell he was close, that probably, making you cockwarm him with your mouth for so long was as hard for him as it was for you.  But you loved to see him this desperate and you loved to finally feel him inside you, stretching your sensitive pussy, making it his again. 
His fingers found your clit again and started drawing circles around it again, but this time, he applied more pressure, driving you crazy.
“Matt, please, I can’t!” you moaned, it was too much. He made you cum today already, so doing it again was a bit too much for you, but he kept you on the thin line between pain and pleasure, knowing exactly what he was doing and how he was doing it. 
“You can take it,” he ordered. Your cunt started spasming around him, you were already close. His fingers were still abusing your clit, forcing you on the edge of pleasure, taking him with you. 
“I am gonna cum, Matt, please!” you begged, you loved every second, yet somehow, it was too much.
“Cum for me baby, c’mon, make me proud,” he grunted, his thrusts inside you became more uneven, but harder and deeper. He was about to cum too, but you were already there.
Thick hot liquid slipped out of you as your pussy was convulsing around his thick cock, your whole body is not yours anymore, you don’t even know if you feel it too much or not at all at that point, there is nothing in the world other than you and Matt. 
“That’s it baby, just like that,” you felt his hot cum spreading inside you, marking you as his. The pleasure spread across your whole body, Matt thrusted in you a few more times and then both of you fell on the couch.
“I love you baby, so much,”
.
.
.
You wanna be tagged too? Apply here! :)
421 notes · View notes
Text
Sundays (Matt Murdock x reader)
Tumblr media
warnings: tooth rotting fluff, religion (they go to church) very very fluffy, husband Matt, this one the poll but new one shot out soon
It was your favorite type of day. A Sunday, because no daredeviling on Sundays. Unless there was something especially serious he heard going on. You shift your weight so that you can shuffle in between his legs looking at your husband. He looks so majestic laying there naked with only a sheet covering his lower half. You weren’t quite modest yourself with only a sheet covering your body as well. Since you both had been just married less than 3 weeks, you were still in the phase where you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. It wasn't always intimacy times. But Matthew would always be there touching you in some comforting way reminding you he was always by your side. Weither it was a hand on your knee or holding hands with him as you were his “sighted guide”. When really he just used that as an excuse to show you off in public. His hand never left yours. Today was one of those days.
he looked like a sleeping angel not daredevil. His chest was cut from marble and an expression of peice was on his face you barely see. Shifting yourself in between his legs closer, bare chests pressing up against each other separated by only a silk sheet. A reminder of the gift he gave you last night. You lean in to him and give a long lingering kiss. It was soft upon his plump rosy lips and his eyes fluttered open. His sightless eyes gaze upon yours and you break the sweet kiss.
“Hello Mrs. Murdock” he says in his sleepy deep morning voice that makes your knees weak.
Hes never missed an opportunity to call you that in the last 3 weeks. You give him another sweet kiss and he hums. His hands stroking your hair. You slip between the silk sheets so that your warm bodies could press up against each other, though there is nothing sexual about it this time you weren’t in the mood you were just affectionate and he could tell. That smile hadn’t left his face since the two of you were married.
“hello my pretty little devil” you scratch underneath his chin and he leans into it making a small noise of pleasure at the gesture.
“hmm. It’s Sunday would like to come to church with me.” He asks still in a happy bliss “I’d rather not go alone”
you think for a bit,. Matthew’s been going through a rough time lately a really hard time. And god, if there wasn’t anything you’d do to please this man. You never want him to have to be alone again. You knew how much his religion meant to him. And church with Matthew is actually quite enjoyable the times you’ve been with him.
“of course I’ll go with you my love.” You whispered softly to him. He beams at you in return. That smile that hasn’t left since they had the small wedding. ”you should probably get dressed though. Would be a bit distracting.” he teases in a low chuckle
you crinkle up your nose and tease him back “so should you ‘good-catholic lawyer-boy’”
you rumple his hair before rising from his warm embrace to go to your closet. You find something nice to wear and Matthew goes for his normal suit. As he gets dressed you do admit ok yes you starred at his ass the whole time.
he gives a knowing devilish smirk you know all to well as he buttons up his shirt. You silently mourn the loss of staring at his abs “you know I may be blind sweetheart but i can sense you starring” he says with his signature charm.
“well we’re married now, I’m allowed to look at my husband aren’t I?” You say before light giving his ass a smack. You just couldn’t help yourself.
once the two of you are dressed he looks incredibly handsome even with more clothes on, he starts tapping his cane and each way as you two walk on the sidewalk together. Your hand however finds his and intertwines your other hand resting on his shoulder so you can guide him. Knowing that he trusts you even if it’s partly to keep his cover. He stops, smiles at you practically beaming and folds up his cane. The two of you resume your walk to Clinton church. The weather was incredibly nice, the flowers on the windowsills were blooming and the sun was beaming down. A pleasant breeze made the day just the right temperatures. you know even you could smell the sweetness of spring in the air and you didn’t have enhanced senses. You wonder what it’s like for Matt.
You break the comfortable silence as the two of you walk together. “you smell that? It’s my favorite flower”
“I don’t smell lavender y/n”
“oh you remembered, well yes that is my first favorite flower because of the scent but my second favorite is honeysuckle” you explained as the two of you stroll basking in each other’s company.
“Oh, I love that scent too. But sweetheart it’s an invasive plant.” He chuckles good naturedly. The scent of honeysuckle fills his lungs on this Sunday morning. If Amber thought she could smell the sweetness it was nothing compared to his. The way it weaves around his mind fogging it up with pleasant memories of when y/n would wear her citrus and honeysuckle perfume. It truly is a beautiful day. Nothing seems to be going wrong at the moment there isn’t a crime he hears. Or maybe it’s just in the warmth of y/n’s company the terrible sounds and shrieks of the city were muted. He always seemed calmer in her presence.
“We’re here, Clinton church” you read for him
“and on time” he kissed your joined hands before you both step into the church together. The darkness takes a bit for you to adjust to the light in contrast to the brightness of outside. Not that Matthew would mind, you giggle in your head. It truly is a beautiful place with high ceilings and candles lit, it has stained glass windows with beautifully colored pictures made of glass upon it. Y/n especially appreciated these. The way the sunlight of spring catches the stained glass sending a glow to floor adjacent to it. The difference in materials used creates complex shimmering patterns and shapes. Admiring the way each shard and fragment of glass comes together to make a beautiful story from the Bible. The wooden floors are pretty and there are rows of wooden pews with bibles in the pockets of the seat in front of you. It smells of that distinct church scent that is quite hard to discribe. The best Matthew can do is old wooden oak polished, with the scent of old books the type that are yellowing with age. He suspects these are from the Bible’s. The people played a role into it two he could often sense their perfume or their recent showers. There's also the scent of candles and incense. The incense is one of three smells that is most distinctive out of the melting pot to Matt. There’s a lingering air of smoke from previous services but it’s never too heavy. It’s not like cigarettes smoke at all, one of Matthew’s least favorite scents in the world. Well that was until he had been in an explosion as daredevil. Burning flesh was definitely the worst thing he’s ever sensed. He had to take many showers to get the smell out of his system. But overall he liked the scent and it was familiar to him. He was raised here. Even if he’s strayed so far, or hated his past now. But the scent of Clinton church was strangely calming and comforting to Matthew. You guide him to a pew bench that’s completely empty. You take your seat next to Matt once he’s settled his hand in his lap the other toying with his cane. You notice pleasantly that your seated directly next to a stain glass window. This one depicts baby Moses floating in the river. You particularly like the way the light shines through the glass making it translucent. The water a blue haze.
you find your seat and you take matts hand that’s in his lap, interlocking both your fingers. He brings the your hands up to his lips and gives a long kiss on your hand before resting it in his lap. The service starts shortly after and it only takes an hour, which is good because you can’t sit still for much longer than that. Matthew listens to what the priest says and you can’t but help admire how he looks. Sitting on the bench with his back leaning slightly back and his head up high. Those shoulders that carry the whole weight of this city on them . Intently listening, he leans his head just slightly back, his stunning red glasses perched upon his face. He looks proud almost. How could someone who looks so good be going through so much. Truth be told you were always worried about Matt. Being daredevil takes a tole on his soul. But you’ve been keeping an eye on him making sure he’s okay recently. He holds your hand the entire time. Only breaking when you have to pray but quickly rejoining his hand with yours. His thumbs stroking your hand comfortably.
“should I read to you what we’re saying?” You say wondering how he does this.
“uh no” he chuckles “i can hear them sweetheart”
“oh right” you answer sheepishly. Sometimes you’re still figuring out the extent of his blindness. He rubs your hand more finding the way you want to help endearing. You distinctly feel the cool of his ring on his hand. And you beam with pride. Before you know it the service is over and Matt stands up with you and unfolds his cane and starts tapping it. You wrap your arms around his as you “guide” him. But also in his own way it’s just another way to show you off. Matthew exchanged a few words with father lantom and some of the others before the two of you walked out into the bright spring day. There was not a cloud in the sky. After walking for a while hand and hand. Your golden beautiful rings shining in the sun. Your diamond perfectly sparkling. The consistent tap of Matt’s cane across everything. The silence is comforting and after a while he turns to you.
“thanks you” he says quietly.
your turn to him “for what?”
“for that, staying beside me. You……you don’t know how much it means to someone like me.” He adds sincerely.
you do know how much it means to him. Not many people have stayed with him, loving him unconditionally like you do. And he needs that, Matt needs her love. Her holds your chin delicately and pulls you in for a soft kiss. You sigh into the kiss. A very love sick sigh
once he breaks the kiss he’s smiling again with his beautiful smile. He brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face. “So..” his face still close to you. Red glasses practically glowing in the sun “how’s married life treating you Mrs. Murdock?”
you stroke his hair before speaking also a smile plastered on your face. “I think it suits me very well Mr. Murdock.” And he kissed your hand before continuing tapping his cane and walking on the sidewalk with you.
146 notes · View notes
allllium · 2 months
Note
Hey, can I make a Matt x Reader request. Reader is a doctor and lives with Matt one evening Matt comes home with Spiderman who needs help. You become surrogate parents for Peter and think about adopting him since he's a son to both of you anyway.
Peter
~ Sorry this took me so long to get to. I had something written at some point but ended up scraping it 😭
~ Fluff, Maybe a little angst bc Peter is hurt at the beginning?
~ WC: 1,536
Tumblr media
~ Matt brings home a kid ~
Being with Matt you've learned always to expect the unexpected. Matt has a heart of gold, always doing everything he can to help those in need. It's a good thing you're the same way. You wouldn't be a doctor if you didn't have the urge to help people but sometimes Matt, in your opinion, helps people that don't help him far too often.
However, one thing you didn't expect was for your wonderful boyfriend to come home with a kid. Okay maybe not kid, he's about sixteen years old, but that's still way younger than you or Matt. And way too young to be doing what he does.
When Matt brings home the kid, the first thing you do is freeze for a second. Who is this kid? How did he get hurt? How does Matt know him? Why is he in your apartment bleeding? 
You're quickly pushed out of your thoughts when Matt helps the kid onto the couch and looks to you for help. You immediately jump in, using your doctor skills to the best of your ability. Both he and your boyfriend stay silent the whole time. Matt stays sitting in an armchair to the side, obviously stressed by whatever happened. 
It takes a while to patch up the kid, whose name you still don't know, but as soon as you're finished, he falls asleep on the couch and allows you time to discuss this strange situation with Matt. 
Why is it that he stays silent the whole time you're busy helping the kid but the second you're ready to talk he runs off to the kitchen, not exactly running off as the kitchen is right there, but still?
“Matt. Explain?” You don't know what to say or ask. A million questions are running through your head as you follow him to the kitchen. 
“His name's Peter.” He hesitates to continue. “He's spiderman, that's how he got hurt.” 
“What? He's a child!” How the hell is a teenager Spiderman? 
“Yeah, I know that's why I've been keeping an eye on him.” He says as if it's the most casual thing ever. As if he didn't just bring me a beaten-up sixteen-year-old to fix up. 
“What do you mean keeping an eye on him? Do you listen to him?” You turn back to the living room and collapse in a chair. 
“No, he lives too far away. I just mean that I call him and check up on him.” His voice is quiet, careful not to wake the sleeping kid. “I met him a few weeks ago.” 
“When you were in Queens? Is that why you left?” A couple of weeks ago, Matt spent a few days in Queens for a new client he met. He never said much about it and you never asked. You never wanted to invade his clients' privacy and you weren't sure he could tell you about it anyway. 
“Yeah actually.” He doesn't say anymore and for some reason, you don't ask. Not sure if you want to know the reasons this kid, Peter you now know, could be in danger. You know Matt can handle himself so most of the time you try not to worry yourself but this is a young kid, that you can almost guarantee doesn't have anywhere near the amount of fighting training Matt had. 
After a few hours of making sure he was okay on the couch, and convincing Matt to stay in for the night, you both decide to head to bed. 
Tumblr media
You wake up the next morning to loud crashing noises from the kitchen. You automatically know it's not Matt because one he is a terrible cook and two he is still lying in bed with an arm over your waist. So Peter must have woken up from his injury-induced slumber and started cooking because he's hungry? 
You reluctantly throw yourself out of bed. Despite getting plenty of sleep you feel anything but well rested. As you head out of the bedroom you see Peter wearing the old clothes Matt put out for him and trying to cook something in the kitchen. From the smell of it, he's probably not the best cook either.
“Good morning.” You greet him, coming into the kitchen and leaning against the counter. He whips around to look at you in surprise, he clearly doesn't have the same super senses as Matt.
“Oh uh, good morning!” He tries his best to sound cheerful but his voice has an underlying tone of shock and awkwardness. “Sorry for waking you up. I know taking of someone you don't know so late at night isn't the best, so I thought I would make you and Matt some breakfast to try and make up for it. I'm Peter by the end.” You stay silent as he falls into an awkward ramble. 
“Hi Peter I'm y/n. And you don't have to worry about making it up to us, we were happy to help. Plus I deal with this stuff all the time.”
“Right, you're a doctor! Matt told me about that.” He puts down all the stuff he was “cooking” and leans along the counter with you. 
“Oh, he talks about me?” 
“Well, it was that or all the people we've fought as masked superheroes.” He shrugs. 
“Superhero? Aren't you a little young to be fighting like you do?” 
“Maybe but if I can help people why wouldn't I?” 
“You could always be selfish and use your powers for yourself.” You tell him out of both curiosity and the fact that if you had any kind of powers you can't guarantee you would use them to help anyone else.
“Yeah, I guess.” And just like you both stop talking. Waiting in silence for Matt to wake up before you order breakfast.
Tumblr media
Peter stayed with you guys for a little over a week while you made sure he was fully healed from his injuries. Before long he was going back home to Queens to whoever he lives with. You know from one brief conversation that his parents are gone, he never said how or who he stays with now but that's not any of your business. 
He comes over almost every week now for dinner, one of the only nights a week you and Matt cook instead of ordering takeout. You have the feeling Matt has imprinted on Peter, kind of like a baby duck. Maybe it's because they’re so similar. They can relate to each other in a way Foggy and Karen can’t. Well, Frank can but he and Matt don’t exactly get along. 
Today is one of the days that he’s gonna be coming over for dinner. You and Matt are in the kitchen making a new pasta dish. 
“So I wanted to ask you a question?” Matt suddenly tells you, while in the middle of stirring the pasta sauce. 
“You know you don't have to ask to ask a question right?” It doesn't matter how many times you say it, Matt will always warn you before asking a question. Most likely because he's worried about bothering you.
He lets out a deep chuckle. “I know, sweetheart, but I'm worried you'll say no.”
“I doubt it. What is it?”
“You know how Peter lives with his aunt right?” He pulls the finished sauce off the stove so he can put his full attention on you.
“I knew he lived some family member, yes. Why?” You’re very curious as to where this is going. 
“Well, she’s getting older and I thought maybe he could come and stay with us for a while.” Not what you expected him to ask.
“Matt, I would say yes to that if I could see how it would work. We don't have the room.” You shrug. You would love to help Peter out but you don’t think he would like living on the couch for at least a year. 
“That’s why I'm asking you. You always know what to do with these things.” If he means the way you freak out thinking of every possible solution and pretend to know what you’re doing then yeah, you are a master at it.
“I don't know, Matty. There is about a year and a half before he goes to college, there is no way he’ll be comfortable here for that long.”
“I know. Believe me, I’ve been thinking of a way this could work. I just don’t want him to be alone.” 
“He won’t be. Even if he can’t live here he’s always welcome.” And just by saying that you come up with the perfect idea. 
Tumblr media
A few weeks later it worked. Somehow everything magically fell into place. At the end of your previous conversation about it, you told Matt how great it would be if Peter could have his own apartment close to yours and magically one became available in the same building. Being sixteen, Peter obviously couldn't pay for the place himself but you were able to help out, having some extra money due to being a good doctor. 
��Thank you, sweetheart.” Matt comes up to you. “You didn’t have to do that.” 
“Eh, you’re rubbing off on me.” You grumble with a fake annoyance.
Tumblr media
169 notes · View notes
heyimadison · 3 months
Text
december 2023 : madisons recs
Tumblr media
i am SOOO excited you all enjoyed last month’s post! i am grateful to be a part of loving and sharing these masterpieces so they receive their rightful recognition!! thank you to all of you wonderful authors for all your hard work<3 happy new years everyone; thank you for a good year, and here’s to another one🎉🎊🥳
Tumblr media
Marvel
— matt murdock
the lakes @goldenlikedayl1ght
Tumblr media
harry potter
— theodore nott
like snow on the beach @lizthewriter
too friendly @evergone
hesitating @distantdarlings
Tumblr media
acotar
— azriel
your losing me @courtly-chronicles
don’t let me down @courtly-chronicles
take my hand @fever-fluff
as a trophy @writingcroissant
let them find us here @florencemtrash
you called @acourtofmenandthirst
loves a burden @fieldofdaisiies
run @solbaby7
reunited @redheadspark
a field of dandelions @prythianpages
a winter solstice like no other @finelinevogue
a new warmth @daycourtofficial
only in dreams @pellucid-constellations
Tumblr media
OPLA
— roranoa zoro
ultimatum @undiscovered-horizon
Tumblr media
PJO
— luke castellan
goodbyes and waiting @celesterayel
follow me @on-my-vigilante-sht
i gotcha @goddessofwisdom-7
call it what you want @breadbrobin
Tumblr media
divider credits to @cafekitsune
164 notes · View notes
thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months
Text
buttercup, masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n: ….this was really therapeutic to write. 
summary: little did you know that your new next-door neighbour, the very guy you have an embarrassingly large crush on, is the masked vigilante who saved you a little over a year ago.
warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, explicit sexual content, rape recovery, ptsd, adorable surrogate parents gay uncles, mostly just a lot of fluff and comforting goodness, total word count is 18k
masterlist | join my taglist | series playlist
Tumblr media
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
Tumblr media
© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
746 notes · View notes
Text
THE DEVIL I KNOW- M. MURDOCK
Pairing: Ex- Boyfriend! Matt x Fem! Reader
Word Count: 5.4k
Summary: you and matt had broken up months ago, but somehow you end up back in his bed over and over again. he knows you better than anyone else, and you can't deny the feelings you still have towards him, so why not end up in the sheets again? 
Warnings: SMUT, praise kink, degradation kink, mocking, pussy slapping, teasing, swearing, a lill dumbification kink, smoking, mentions of choking, enemies to lovers<3
“i’m okay with history repeating- tell me i’m the one you can’t forget. back in hell at least i’m comfortable, need your body when my fires cold. hand to heart i’m gonna stay faithful to the devil i know...”- the devil i know, suki waterhouse
Tumblr media
You hated the city. 
The atmosphere seemed to choke you here, filling your stomach with a pit of dread and anxiety. The air had an almost rotten, dirty feeling to it, something that made your skin itch as it wrapped around your skin. 
It wasn't always like this, this feeling you got whenever you traveled to Hell’s Kitchen. 
There was once a time where the familiar streets and back allies brought you a sense of comfort, where you could pick out scents like fresh bread on 5th Street instead of the fumes, or hear the birds chirp in the park instead of the car's constant honking. 
But that time was long gone, as the man who had brought the city to life had disappeared. He had been gone, for quite some time now. 
Hell’s Kitchen was Matt Murdock's home. The one place he cherished with his heart and soul, the one thing he could always rely on when things became tough. New York reflected him, and every single time your heels clicked on the sidewalk, you thought of him. 
The flowers he gave you time and time again, from the florist you adored so much. Always recommending his favorite books after reading them in braille, taking you to an antique bookstore on the corner so you could pick it out and he could hold you from behind, leaning down to kiss and nibble on your neck. 
You missed him, and the relationship the two of you had so long ago. 
But it was an end of a chapter, the feeling of the chill, crisp rainfall on your figure still haunting your memory as the two of you parted ways on that crosswalk.
 You had walked on it now head held high as you stepped across the painted lines, the people around you going on their way, to their own little life you knew nothing about. As they knew nothing of yours, how the thoughts of Matt plagued you as your head hit the pillow each night, how good he made you feel, how much you missed his touch. 
It was sickening. 
The thoughts came more and more frequent as each hour ticked by, and you were anxious to finish this business trip, once and for all. It seemed your boss hated you, always sending you to Hell’s Kitchen for tasks that were associated with Matt's law firm, instead of anyone else. 
It's because you're the best candidate, Miss. Y/L/N. Stay professional. She had said after you had confessed the tension that was so thick you could cut it with a butterknife whenever you saw Matt. 
You didn't tell her you didn't want to go because you knew you could end up in his bed again. 
Like last time. And the time before that. 
The trips were becoming less and less frequent, which you were thankful for- time spent away from the scent of Matt’s sheets, patchioni and sex, was good for you. It gave you time to “move on” whatever that meant in your sense. 
But here you were once again, fist tightening around the briefcase handle as you allowed the wave of people to walk around you as you stared up at the doorway to his office. 
You closed your eyes, taking one deep breath- then another. 
You could do this. You had to do this. 
Not just for the paycheque, but for a sense of clarity as well. So you could go to sleep at night peacefully, knowing you had faced your ex-boyfriend and didn't end up sprawled across his bed, gripping the sheets with your ass up in the air as he pounded ruthlessly into you. 
You had to get over him. 
Once the final breath had escaped you, you walked up the steps, hand twisting the door handle. The old wood creaked as you popped your head in, the front entrance empty. 
You tried to hide the relief that flared up inside you as you slipped in, shutting the door softly behind you. You knew their office was on the third floor, and due to the old building- you’d have to take the stairs. Which was fine with you of course- it gave you more time to walk through how’d you react to his presence in your mind.
 So as you took your first step on the chestnut, you mapped it all out in your head to the rhythm of your heels clicking. You’d see him, obviously. But you would look right through him. 
You’d be formal and polite, as you had no bad blood towards him, and this was a business meeting after all. He would nod, walking off to his office, expecting you to follow. And then once the door was shut, and blinds were closed- when the two of you were in private he would throw you against the wall… hand wrapping around your throat ever so slightly… 
No! God no Y/N stop. Stop, stop, stop. you yelled at yourself internally, shaking your head as if that would shake the dirty thoughts out. 
The last visit was the last time. It had to be, for your own sake. 
Before you knew it, you had reached his floor, the office plaque placed outside the front door. Nelson and Murdock, it read, the grooves of the letters smooth as you brushed your fingers across the metal. 
You were stalling, and you knew it. 
Your rings grazed against the door as you knocked, feeling sweat seep out slightly from your pores. This was a lot more nerve-racking than you remembered. The familiar feeling of butterflies filled in your stomach, accept these weren't “butterflies”. They were hungry wasps, swarming your organs and stinging them, suffocating your lungs so you could barely breathe as you waited. 
“Come in!” a sweet voice called out, unknown to you. You frowned, confused as you pushed open the door. A woman sat behind a desk, her long blonde hair draped across her one shoulder as she clacked away on her laptop.
 You took in her slightly messy desk, a few pens out of their holder, the odd paper scattered by the somewhat wilting plant. She smiled at you, blue eyes bright as you made your way over. 
“Hi! You must be Y/N!” the lady quipped, sitting up quickly to extend her hand. 
“Hi, yes, yes that's me. And you are..?” 
“Karen Page. I'm new here, Matt and Foggy’s secretary.” she exclaimed, and you shoke her hand firmly. You couldn't help but smile, she seemed to have an enticing energy to her- making you feel comfortable and warm. 
“Well it is very nice to meet you Karen.” 
Suddenly, the door from the right swung open, and a familiar face peering over at you. “It’s you!” he called, and you felt your jaw drop.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“How have you been?” Foggy asked, a smile permanently etched on his face as he looked at you, fingers running through the silky strands of blonde. 
“Good, good! Where’s um… where’s Matt?” you wondering, trying to make the question sound casual despite the severity behind it, your hands twisting together under the desk. 
“Oh, he's found himself in a courtroom again. He won't be joining us.” he replied, shuffling papers around as he attempted to find the files the two of you needed to discuss today. 
You couldn't help but feel the balloon pop in your chest, releasing all the air back into your lungs. 
This was good. This was so good. 
No worrying about him hearing your heartbeat skip beats when he was in the room, no watching him smirk childishly as you'd cross your legs together. Now it was just managing to get out of the city without him finding out. 
“Of course he is.” you joked, feeling the heat leave your cheeks as they returned to their normal temperature. Hands were smacked on the table, making you jump slightly as Foggy stood. 
“Well, shall we get started?” 
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The air was chill and crisp as you walked on the sidewalk again, the cab dropping you off a few feet away. You watched as it speed back off into traffic, leaving you in the dust. 
The wind blew, making you shiver as you hugged your coat tighter around yourself, snuggling your face into your maroon scarf. You surveyed the area, taking note of the lack of people around at this hour. 
It was quiet here, whenever the clock rolled around eleven. The odd person would have a smoke in hand, longed out on the steps leading up to their building, or a curtain was being yanked shut from above. 
It was a good neighborhood, this area.You had never had any troubles with it. 
But yet, you still felt a twinge of anxiety as you walked around the corner. 
You were on Matt’s street. 
His apartment, beautifully crafted with it’s large windows and almost vintage feel was a few feet away, and you couldn't help but stop and waver. You couldn't continue on. This felt wrong, walking by but not seeing him. 
But at the same time, wasn't this the whole point of coming down here? To prove to yourself, hey, I can do this. I can walk by that stupidly beautiful, smart-assed catholic's house, and not feel the pull to go inside and curl up in his arms again. 
And yet, the idea of walking by the front steps made you feel queasy, made your stomach turn over on itself. You were stuck, a rope in a game of tug of war as you were pulled between two sides. 
Before you could make a decision, you heard your phone ring. Digging through your pockets, your chilled fingers gripped around the phone, your heart seeming to sneak up and lodge itself in your esophagus as the caller ID showed. 
Matt Murdock. Your eyes widened, and you gripped the device tighter as you were torn between answering. 
Speak of the devil. 
It was like he had crawled up into your brain, sensed you were thinking of him (again), and decided to make himself known. Before you could rationally talk yourself out of it, you answered. 
“Hello?” 
“Hi sweetheart.” his smooth voice sounded from the phone, silky and sweet as oozing honey. 
You felt yourself fold.
 “Matthew.To what do I owe the pleasure?” You heard him chuckle lightly, and you could visibly see the little smile blooming across his face. “A little birdy told me you were in town today.” he teased lightly, and you sighed. 
Of course, he knew. You were stupid to think he wouldn't find out. That man could find out anything. 
“Did that bird have blonde hair, the worst dad jokes I’ve ever heard and chocolate brown eyes I find myself getting lost in?” you asked, making Matt laugh. 
“Perhaps. Where are you right now, sweetheart?” 
You considered lying. Saying you were in your hotel room, deep under the sheets in your pajamas, not willing to leave the warmth of your bed. But even that wouldn't work, as your hotel was near his apartment anyways. 
“I’m um, I’m on your street.” 
Silence. 
You heard the whoosh of his breath, and you swore he could hear the increasing, steady rhythm of your heartbeat from down here. 
“The doors unlocked.” was all he said, the line going dead. 
You held the phone up to your ear still, listening to the dial tone before slowly bringing it down, your mind in a different place. It was happening again. This buzzing, static in your mind. Where your limbs seemed controlled by strings, you were a marionette as you removed yourself from the spot your roots had been planted. 
With each step your chest felt more and more hollow, and you hated yourself for going through with this. 
But he invited you.
 It was rude not to just show up, to ignore him, and go on with your night. Though he would still be there even if you left him in the dirt, because you'd be thinking of the what ifs. 
Heat blasted on your body as you entered his building, and you were thankful to escape the cold air of the night. There was no doorman to greet, so you gravitated towards the steps, making the trudge up. 
You debated stopping many times, to just sit and cry and regret every decision with this man you had ever made. 
Why did the two of you end things? Why couldn't the two of you worked it out? Why was he being so distant all the time, but suddenly needed you whenever you were in a close proximity?
 It made you feel sick, all the questions that trampled over your brain like wild horses in the wind. You pushed them to the side, ego refusing to stop and mope. The dim lights flickered softly as you made your way up to his floor, and you pushed the door open to reveal the long, intimating hallway. 
The hardwood was smooth against your heels as they clacked, the only sound in this hallowed room as you made your way toward the end goal. His door loomed over at you menacingly, as if it would come to life and swallow you whole. 
You knew your thoughts were irrational, and you knew that you felt like this every time you came over to see him again. One time, this place was an amenity to you, a safe haven where you and Matt could escape the troubles of the world together. 
Now it was just plywood bones, cement, and rust mixed with hot and heavy breaths, filled with longing and regret. 
It was filled with happy memories too, which turned into sad ones whenever you thought about them too hard, because you longed to have them back. 
Your hand twisted the door handle, the door creaking open as the front entrance came into view. All the memories hit you at once, the passion, the love, the cravings, and the aches. 
The smell of bergomace filled your nostrils, a warm and soothing aura filling your bones from the scent alone. 
You could do this. You had no choice now. 
Your bag dropped to the ground, and you slowly unbuttoned your coat to place it on the coat hooks with your scarf. Matt still hadn't said anything, even though you knew he could hear you from around the block. 
He wanted you to make the first move. Fine. If he wanted to play a game, then you'd play.
 “I’m here.” you called out meekly, stepping into the open floorplan of his home. Matt was sprawled out in the brown leather chair, his hair slightly messy, wearing the red sweater you had made him so many months ago, saying ‘I’M NOT DAREDEVIL”. 
A smirk was evident on his face, fingers drumming on the armrest as he made note of your presence. “You missed me?” he asked calmly. 
“No.” you lied smoothly, still standing and staring at him, as if he was a piece of artwork at a museum. His head tilted ever so slightly, a smirk growing as he listened more closely to your ever-growing heartbeat. 
“You’re lying, sweetheart. There's no need to lie to me.” he cooed, and you sighed, hands curling into fists so you could squeeze something as a means of comfort. 
“I’m not lying.” you insisted, lying again. Digging yourself into an even bigger hole to attempt to get yourself out of later.
 “You were always pretty bad at it. Not that that's a bad thing of course, but someone doesn't need to read your heartbeat to be able to tell.” he shrugged notionally, standing up with a sigh. 
You remained frozen in place, too scared to move from the spot you had chosen, feeling if you moved this would all flutter away like a leaf in the wind. You hated how much you still wanted him, how much you did truly miss him. You watched as he made his way over to you, warm palm cupping your cheek as he teased your bottom lip with the brush of his thumb.
 “Now I’ll ask you again angel. Did you miss me?” 
“Yes.” you breathed with no gestation as his thumb brushed again in that soothing motion, the one he always did to coax the secrets out of you, making you gasp and shiver. 
He was intoxicating, and you were drawn to him- moth to a flame. 
“I missed you too.” he confessed, as if he had been reciting it in his mind a million times over. 
“You say that to every woman you've had in here.” you whispered sharply, the thought of him treating any woman the way he treated you making you feel nauseous. 
You didn't want him touching anyone the way he had touched you. His hands were branded to your flesh, hot and fiery like the devil's as his hand stilled, holding your head in place. 
“There hasn't been any other woman in here. It’s only been you.”
 Time stopped. The clocks stopped there ticking, the air turning dry and stale as his words reverberated through your mind. 
It's only been you.  
You wanted to believe him, you really did. But you were scared too. Because if it were true, if he had waited all this time for you, had waited for you in between trips- longing for you, you wouldn’t know how to compose yourself. 
“No, no stop that. Matt, we can’t- we can’t keep doing this.” you argued, voice breaking as you gripped his sweater, the fabric soft and noble between your fingers. 
“Why? Why can't we?” he insisted, pressing you further- his voice filled with an emotion you couldn't quite describe. “Because- fuck Matthew this hurts. This hurts me. That I see you and we act like nothings wrong and I can't have you.” you empathized, octaves rising as you clawed at his chest, his grip on your chin tightening as his hand came up to stroke your hair softly. 
“Please. Please just for tonight. We can be whatever you want to be in the morning, I promise.” he begged, cradling your head with his hands, scared to let you go as you shoke your head in defeat.
 “Matthew I can’t. We can’t.” 
“Tonight. Tonight and I’ll do whatever you ask of me Y/N I’ll leave if that's what you want. I’ll leave your life and never come back, or I’ll stay. I just need you.” he whimpered, clinging to you as you were him. 
It seemed the two of you couldn't let go, a magnetic force pulling you closer to his body to warm your fire. He began to back the two of you up towards his bed, the sheets slightly messy, making you whine.
 “You want me, angel. I can smell it on you, can practically taste you. I’ve always been able to read you better than anyone else.” he sighed, breathing in your perfume. 
It was true. Your pages were open for him, spine cracked as he thumbed through the text. An open book was something you tended to be for him- never being able to hide your intentions from him.
 “I hate you.” you whispered softly, a sharp edge to your words as he smiled softly- knowing he had won you over. 
“Yeah? You hate me?” The back of your legs hit the bedframe, body slumping back against the sheets as he leaned over you. 
“I hate you. I hate you so much.” you moaned as he kissed you, cutting off your words clean from the source. He tasted of cherries and sweet wine, and you savored it on your tongue before he broke it. 
“Say it again.” he growled, your hands tugging in his hair, fingers running through the messy chestnut locks as he kissed you harder. It was filled with passion and hatred, a mixture of unspoken words that hadn't been said that night in the rain. 
Things you wanted to say but couldn't, things you wanted back but weren't able to piece back together again. 
It was hot and heated, breaths coming in gasps and pants as Matt's hands traced your body, fingers burning you through the light fabric of your dress. 
“I hate you Matthew Murdock. I hate you with everything- mghm- everything in me.” you moaned, words interrupted as his teeth found their way sunk into the smooth skin of your neck, your body shivering with anticipation in protest. 
“You're so well trained, aren’t you? All these nights we've spent together really paid off hmm?” he purred against your neck, sucking on the skin hard enough to leave a mark. 
“You're insufferable.” you huffed, fingers curling around his neck, nails scratching the bottom of his scalp as you arched your back into him. 
“Look at you, using big girl words.” he cooed teasingly, making you roll your eyes before you kissed him, thigh hitching up to wrap your leg around him possessively. 
“Off.” You snarled, tugging at his shirt- the barrier preventing you from what you needed most. 
Skin-to-skin contact. Please. Because I've waited this long, and if I’m allowing myself off the leash, I want to go all the way. 
“Off, off off-” you commanded, watching with desire as he pulled away slightly, back muscles rippling as he tugged the sweater over his head.
 “Your turn.” he whispered, unleashing a squeak from your body as he gripped your thighs, yanking you closer to the edge of the bed- legs spread wide. 
You moaned as he cupped your clothed cunt, already soaking from his caresses. Arms were raised as he slipped the dress off your body in one fluid motion, the fabric was long forgotten about as it hit the floor. 
He was purely focused on you, as he always had been in these tender moments. It was like the outside world didn't matter, like both of your problems were pushed aside just for a little bit longer. 
Matt put you first. He always had, back when the two of you were together- until he didn't. 
But this was new. Each time the two of you had this secret rendezvous, it was like a new relationship blooming all over again. He was touching you again for the first time, he was whispering your name like it was brand new. It was all the excitement and passion of a new sparking flame, not a dulling ember. 
And you craved it, craved it like a drug addict needing her high and doing anything and anyone to get it. It was pure admiration, the way he brushed his fingertips across your collarbone, down your sides. 
Like he was thankful you had allowed him to sweep you back in his bed- just one more time. 
“That’s my good little girl” he cooed softly as you bucked your hips up at his delicate touches. 
“Don’t tease.” you insisted, feeling your head turn to the side, scared to look at him any longer. You feared him right now, anxious you’d allow yourself to fall again. 
But you had already fallen again. Hard. 
You didn't want to face that reality just yet. Not when he was touching you like this, making you feel like you were an angel with your wings spread wide, halo shining as bright as the sun. 
“M’not teasing. I’m enjoying.” he hummed, hands slowly rubbing the insides of your thighs, knuckles brushing the delicate skin as he’d inch closer to where you needed him most. 
“I want to enjoy you, because I know you’ll be gone before I know it.” 
You had nothing to say to this. What could you have possibly said- that wasn't a lie? It was up to fate- whatever happened in the morning, and the next few coming days after that. 
It was always like a sore, the days after the mistake. Matt's fingertips seemed to almost scorch you, tingles randomly sizzling on the layers of skin where he had touched you previously. The guilt that stayed with you was tied to your ankle like a ball and chain, chasing you into sleep for the next week or so.
 Then you’d try your best to forget him, until you appeared in his bed again. It was a continuous cycle, a habit you were almost scared to break, in case it was decided it should stop completely. 
You knew that was the right thing- the good thing for the long term. But you didn't want it to stop. You liked this, this little thrill you released. You didn't know what kind of person that made you, but frankly, you didn't care. 
You just needed to be his person. 
You whimpered, heartbeat racing as he used the pads of his finger to rub little circular motions on the wet spot that had formed on your panties, giving your cunt a quick little smack. 
“You’d do whatever I asked of you, wouldn't you?” he asked genuinely, suddenly deciding the layer that separated the two of you was still too much for him. You nodded aimlessly, feeling high off his touches alone.
 “Good. That's the girl I know.” 
He sounded like he had cut himself off, like the sentence was unfinished. There's the girl I know and love. 
“Yes.” was all you replied with, letting your legs spread further to express all of the other things you had wanted to say- but didn't know how. 
“You smell so fuckin sweet. Gonna be the death of me sweetheart.” he confessed, adjusting you to the way he wanted, manhandling you. 
“Let me kill you then.” you murmured softly, hand tracing across his bicep, wanting nothing more than to sink your teeth into the delicate beauty of the man. 
“Damn you.” he snarled, words trailing off into a moan as he entered you swiftly, causing your back to arch in unison.
 “Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck you.” he groaned- as if you were the one who had played with him all these months. As if he were mad at you for feeling so good. 
“Oh- god.” was all you could let out as he wasted next to no time letting you adjust, knowing time was scarred between these walls. You never got used to the feeling of him, no matter how many times he had been between your legs. 
It was a stretch, and you couldn't help but feel filled to the brim as he made himself comfortable.
 “You’re so fucking divine.” he growled, his grip tightening on your thighs as he slid out, thrusting into you harshly- making your body jolt in sync with your whimpers. 
His words and praises made you feel woozy, like he had drugged you with too much cough syrup from the spoon. He was in his own little world, using your body for his own pleasure- knowing he wouldn't be getting it for some time after. 
“I- hate- you-” you mewled, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing out the sounds of your cries. 
“I hate you more.” he breathed, head tilted back in pure bliss, cock brushing your spongy walls with each thrust. His hips found an easy rhythm that had your eyes rolling back in your skull and your legs threatening to close together from the intense feelings of overstimulation. 
You thought back to one of the first times you had met Matt, when the relationship was just starting to bloom. You were drunk, the red wine seeping into your bloodstream as you stumbled to the couch, unable to stop laughing and smiling the whole trip down to the cushions. 
What do you tell the women you bring home? You had teased, the alcohol making your lips loose, words spilling out of them uncontrollably. 
Oh they're enjoying themselves too much, they don’t ask. He had smirked, making you laugh even harder.
 It was true though, you had realized. He hadn't been joking. 
You were far too gone with enjoyment to care about anything but him right now, the feeling of his skin on yours, his hot breath as soft as velvet in your ear as he leaned in closer. 
“We will always hate each other, sweetheart. That's what makes it so fun.” 
You clenched around him with a cry, words blending together like oil paints on a canvas as you felt the orgasm rush over your body in waves. It was like you had touched an electric fence, your body bursting with little shocks like fireworks as you came. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful. So fucking beautiful.” he whispered, and it was then you realized. 
I hate you more. An antonym. 
He still loved you.
 “My pretty little thing.” you smiled softly, voice hoarse as you cupped his cheek. His skin was warm and soft against your palm, cheeks stained pink as his hips faltered. 
It was over before you knew it- that gentle, soft moment the two of you had just shared, where you were his and he was yours had shattered. It was gone, as fast as your hand had been removed from his cheek. 
The wall was put up again, any act of vulnerability was shooed off the stage. Matt had slipped from your fingers, nothing but sweat and gentle pants reverberating off the walls, getting tangled up in the ceiling fan. 
You watched as he removed himself from you slowly, a sly grin on his face as he realized his cum had started to slowly ooze out of you.
 “I’ll be out of here in a few.” was all you said, watching him walk off to the bathroom in silence. You heard the tap start, water trickling out of the faucet, Matt refusing to respond. 
You fought back the tears, knowing the painful cycle was about to start all over again. Before you could rise, he emerged once more, a damp washcloth in hand. 
“No need.” he replied, making his way back over to you slowly. You flinched slightly as the bed creaked, the sudden proximity seeming weird and out of context despite the fact he was up in your guts less than five minutes prior.
 “May I?” he asked, hinting for you to spread your legs again. You spread them slightly, shivering as the cloth touched you, a droplet of water sliding down your inner thigh and onto the sheets below. 
“Are you sure? I can stay, you mean?” you asked, watching his hands carefully clean you up, knowing exactly how to soothe your body from the adrenaline it had just taken buckets of. 
“I left a pack of Marlboro’s in the bedside table.” 
You bit your lip, wanting nothing more than to put your head in your hands and sigh. The cycle was breaking, a little gap emerging from the guilt. He wanted you to stay. He had bought your favorite cigarettes, the ones you had always smoked for ‘special occasions’ in hopes you’d come back again- and stay.
 The thought made your stomach turn, whether that was from nausea or butterflies. 
You couldn't do this again. 
You couldn't pretend to feel this way, like you weren't affected by these hooks up. You needed something continuous, something that was repetitive and that meant something. Something that meant more than just touches and kisses, regrets and mistakes. 
You watched as he stood up, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 
You sighed. And you did end up putting your head in your hands, and no- it did not make you feel better. 
It did not change any of this, take any of this away. Your fingers itched towards the handle, and you finally caved and pulled the drawer open. Snatching the box and the lighter that was left there, you placed the cigarette between your lips, the lighter flickering softly as you saw the smoke start to rise. 
Matt had made his way back over to the bed, the bright city lights illuminating across his figure, dancing across his sculpted torso with excitement. He looked like a painting, an abstract that didn't make sense at first glance, until you truly studied it hard enough. 
You had studied him though, and you had somehow pieced the puzzle together to make sense. It had been knocked from the table, its pieces breaking apart for a few brief months- but you had the courage to pick them up and start over again. 
It would result in the same beautiful picture, afterall. 
“Matt?” 
His head turned towards you and you blew a cloud of smoke into the air, feeling your muscles relax into the soft bedding that smelt of him. 
“I hate you.” 
He just smiled, shaking his head softly. “I know.”
2K notes · View notes
Text
ruin you
Tumblr media
thank you @mattymurdock1021 for this request. I loved writing it and hope it doesn’t disappoint💌
Tumblr media
pairing // mattmurdock x fem!reader
wc // 1.4k
warnings // 18+ only. smut. rough p in v sex, praise and degradation kink, climax denial, pet names, hair pulling, dirty talk. established relationship. no use of y/n. minors DNI
masterlist + rules
taglist
Tumblr media
You were standing in the moonlit bedroom with your satin nightgown on, squeezing out the excess water from your freshly washed hair. Using your feet to swipe away the droplets that fell onto the floor, hoping that it’ll be enough to dry it. Finishing your night routine, feeling slightly parched and dehydrated from your hot shower. Making your way over to the sliding bedroom door to get some water from the kitchen.
Heaving the large door to the side, your body completely stiffened once you saw Matt slouched on the armchair in nothing but his boxers. You didn’t even hear him come home from his nightly patrols- you felt slightly disappointed as you usually greet him the second he comes home.
Smiling as you walked over to him, tenderly kissing his temple, brushing your fingers over his shoulders as you walked past him towards the kitchen. Stopping and turning around as he didn’t have any reaction. “Hey? Are you okay?” You ask sounding concerned.
“Mhmm.” You hear him groggily reply from across the room.
Picking out two cold water bottles from the fridge before making your way back over to the living room. “You don’t seem okay” passing him a bottle of water before sitting on the coffee table in front of him.
Taking a few sips from the bottle, looking around the room to see his suit and helmet disregarded on the floor- almost as if they have been thrown. “You can talk to me, Matt.” You said, virtually in a whisper.
“Had a crap day- just really stressful.” He admits as his head drops to the side in defeat.
Circling your fingers on his knees “want me to make it better?” You sweetly ask. Wanting to assess the situation- whether he wanted to talk it over or forget about it completely.
His eyes darken slightly and the corners of his lips turn up into a wry smirk.
“I take that as a yes?” You flirt, fingers slowly dragging up his thighs with a grin. Getting up from the table, you take a new seat on Matt’s lap, straddling his thighs.
He heavily sighs as his hands immediately clutch around the dough of your ass. He quickly sucks in his bottom lip and clamps it down with his top teeth, growing painfully hard underneath you.
Loosening the tie of your nightgown, allowing it to droop and completely expose yourself to him. Starting to slowly roll your hips over him. Teasing your naked pussy over his fabric-covered cock. His head dropping back as he let out an exasperated groan, his hands travel to your waist and grip it tightly, clearly getting impatient.
“I want to make you feel good.” You sultrily whisper in his ear as your fingers lace into his boxers. He instinctively lifts his hips up as you tug at the material.
Spitting into your palm before holding him fully in your hand, softly pumping him a couple times before lifting yourself up and aligning him with your entrance.
Teasing his tip through your folds to try to collect some wetness to use as lube. Usually, you both spend the majority of your sex sessions doing foreplay, so today was something very different- you weren’t quite sure if you’d be ready enough for his large cock. Deciding to continue on, you wanted to make him feel good- with that in mind it started to do the same for you.
You sharply inhale as you slowly sink down onto the head of his cock, a deep guttural groan escaping from Matt’s agape mouth. Wincing at the shooting pain as you lower down on him, keeping still to adjust- completely bottomed out.
His teeth graze over your nipples in front of his face, hastily kissing wet patches over the sensitive skin on your breasts. Your head fell back, breathing heavily into the air.
“I need you.” He urges, as he slowly starts to thrust upwards into you.
Tightly gripping onto his shoulders, itching yourself away from his thrusts.
He looks up at you between your tits with a taunting smirk pulling at his lips. “What? You can’t even ride a cock?”
“I can- just, wait a sec.” Now fully adjusted and moulded to him, you sink back down onto his length. Face contorting in bliss as your eyebrows twist inwards.
“Pathetic thing. You need me to fuck you?”
Shaking your head no “nhm hm.”
“Want me to fuck you? Hm? Do you want me to make you feel all good inside? Yeah?” He grits in between open kisses on your chest.
Feeling your arousal grow bigger at his dirty talk. You wanted to be the one in control, but he has such a way with words that you had considered cracking and saying yes.
“Want me to ruin you? You can’t even ride a cock, you dumb little slut. I can make you feel good Angel, mhm?”
Caving in, nodding your head enthusiastically “please- yes.” You whine.
Wasting no time, he swiftly picks you up and places you down on the seat of the armchair facing you away from him. He stands extremely close behind you, slapping his cock over the cheeks of your ass. Readjusting your stance on your knees, widening your thighs apart. Arching your back and extending your hips towards him, wrapping your arm over the back of the chair for support.
He holds his cock in his hand, steadily sliding through your folds from behind. “Want me to destroy your pretty pussy, yeah?” He teases as he leans himself over you, sloppily kissing all down your back.
Replying “yes” a bit too eagerly.
“Good.” He says as he stands up straight, slapping your ass firmly before ramming himself inside of you with no warning, causing a deep moan to escape from the pair of you.
He pulls out before ploughing back into you, gripping your waist to make you match his continuous thrusts.
“I want to hear your pretty noises.” He says as he snakes his hand up the nape of your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair from the root before tugging at it, pulling your face from the cushion that was muffling your moans.
His thrusts grow relentless, repeating hitting the spots you both loved- becoming a hasty fury. You knew Matt loved the sounds you made, so you didn’t hold them back, allowing all genuine noises to escape your open mouth.
He leans back over you while he continued to pound into you, kissing your neck from behind, grazing his teeth and sucking on the delicate skin- purposely wanting to leave behind branding marks.
Letting go of your hair, he plants his hands back onto your waist, tightly squeezing it as he rams into you. Fucking you into him.
He pushes your chest down into the seat, allowing a new angle to directly hit your g-spot. “You like it when I ruin you like this? You like the way it makes you feel?”
Only being able to moan “mhmm.”
“I know you do.” Slapping and grabbing your ass, trying to stop himself from coming too soon.
Your inner thighs became very slick, a combination of your juices and his precum ran down them, collecting in a puddle on the seat. The sound of his balls hitting your clit from behind echoed around the apartment, the air full of pure arousal.
Growing desperately closer, your walls tightened around him.
“Not yet. Wait for me. I want to cum with you.” He quickly spits out.
Whining a couple pleases, telling him you can’t hold it.
“You gotta wait or I’ll stop, sweetheart. Do you want me to stop fucking you like a whore? Huh?”
“No.” You whimpered, the last thing you wanted was for him to stop.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Hold it, you needy thing.”
His cock twitching tells you that he’s very close too. “Cum when I get to one.” He grits, not slowing down.
“Three…two” he pauses on purpose, edging you more, earning a frustrated whine from you. “You want me to say it, don’t you pretty girl? … one.”
With that you both let go, spasming and jolting on his cock while he spray-painted inside of you. Your walls milking more his essence as he slowed down. Collapsing himself over you, whimpering into the skin of your back.
“Oh, good job.” He sweetly says, tracing his fingers down your spine. “Such a good, pretty girl.”
Slowly pulling himself out of you with a groan. His arms wrap around your stomach, picking you up so that he can slump into the chair with you atop. You rested your head into the crook of his neck, bringing your knees up and placing your feet onto the arm of the seat, cuddling into him.
“Please me about your day? What’s been on your mind?” you sweetly ask looking up at him, delicately rubbing soothing circles on his chest.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
deviouz · 5 months
Text
. . . late night devil (put your hands on me)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
and never, never, never ever let go.
pairing: matthew murdock x fem!reader
summary: matthew murdock was an enigma. how could someone love you so dearly yet shatter your very soul?
warnings: mostly angst with smut sprinkled in, slight toxicity in the relationship(?), matt thinks sex will make up for everything ):
you weren’t sure why you had let him back in.
maybe it was the way he made you feel safe, like you were bulletproof whenever he was by your side. he was so attentive in that way, always knowing just what to say to satiate that hesitant, unsure voice ringing in the back of your head. he kept things quiet, made the bad thoughts go away just by smiling wife enough you could see it go up to his eyes, crinkling on either side of the chestnut brown irises that flecked with gold whenever the sun hit them just right.
it could be the way his words made you feel like you were absolutely, irrevocably made for him and him alone. he could sing sonnets so easily. he’d hold you close, voice just a whisper in your ear, and you swore he’d hear the metaphorical butterflies in your stomach eventually. he’d tease you on the way your heart fluttered with every praise and announcement of his love. you knew he loved you. that much was evident by the way he’d hold you so closely, like he thought you’d disappear if he let up even just a little. your reassurances did little to soothe the pain in his heart. he knew he wouldn’t have you forever. the murdock luck simply wouldn’t allow it.
it killed you to see him come back all bruised and battered, bruises painted across ivory skin. he was breakable, could be taken away from you just like that. you’d only ever breakdown after he was blocks away, all patched up and ready to go. the sobs you would let out echoed in his mind, reverberating throughout his very being. it haunted him at night knowing he was the one who caused you so much grief.
matt just couldn’t help himself.
his heart felt fuller each time you welcomed him back with open arms. he’d like to think he makes up for the sorrow every now and again. his penance, if you will.
he treated you like an alter. matt would repent, spending hours between your legs, strong arms wrapped around your thighs as he took you apart with his lips and tongue. he would devote himself to you entirely. there was nothing else — just you and him.
the way he had you calling his name so loudly, wantonly was so sinful. matt would beg for your forgiveness in his own way. he’d have you seeing stars, the feeling of his fingers buried deep in your heat so prominent you were sure you’d be absolutely ruined for anyone else.
matthew murdock was a devil disguised as an angel, and you were his saving grace.
he’d atone for his sins and consecrate everything he had to devote himself to you entirely. with every plea and desperate cry of his name, he’d fall harder.
you let him back in because you were no better than he was. you needed him just as badly as he needed you.
for the pain and turmoil the devil of hell’s kitchen caused you, matthew, your matthew, would make up for it. caged between his arms, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, foreheads touching as you both sanctified your love for each other.
and as you watched him stumble into your bedroom, pitifully dropping to his knees before you, all of the anger and pain and resentment washed away.
“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”
you’d let him press his face into your stomach, kevlar-bladder arms holding you close. you weren’t going to disappear. how could you? you both needed each other more than anything in the world. nothing else could suffice — hell, nothing else could even come close.
“i know you are, matthew.”
the tears didn’t take long to crest down your cheeks, the corners of your lips turned upwards into a sad, saccharine smile.
“let me make it up to you. let-let me show you how much you mean to me.”
the mask came off, the red horns and devilish eyes thrown across the room. there he was. your matthew.
“okay.”
you could never let go.
171 notes · View notes
grippingbeskar · 1 year
Text
strip poker
Tumblr media
matt murdock x fem!reader
warnings: explicit content 18+ minors dni (mxf, dirty talk, honestly kind of tame if i’m honest) swearing, gambling?? idk it’s literally the title
a/n: i have been getting a few messages to write more matt so HERE IS ME FULFILLING THAT REQUEST! i’m so glad you guys liked the first one! hope you enjoy! also this gif is how i imagine him looking for the whole first part. fuxk he’s so hot anyways.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. How is that even possible?” You shout, nearly spilling your beer on the already sticky table at Josie’s. You’d been playing poker in the shitty little set up at the back, a bunch of screwed up twenty dollar bills half heartedly thrown in as Matthew Murdock won yet another round.
“It’s unfair, really. Gets the looks and the brains. He either folds right away, or wins the whole game.” Foggy shakes his head, shoving Matt on the shoulder. “I lost a lotta money to this guy in college.”
“Yet you still play him.” Karen chucks her cards in the centre, watching Foggy re-shuffle the deck while Matt takes his winnings, shrugging.
“I didn’t say I learnt from it.”
“But how does that even…work? Because, you’re—well, you know…” You lean back, trying not to think about Matt’s attention, and how it had been on you the whole night. Especially now, as his fingers card through the new wad of cash in his hands, almost like he’s doing it just for you.
“Blind?” He smiles, and you make a noise of agreement while finishing off your beer. “I’m just very good at reading people.”
“Oh, I get it. You cheat, don’t you? Feel the fibres in the cards or whatever.” He scoffs, shaking his head.
“Feel the fibres?”
“Okay— well, it’s something like that, though. Isn’t it?” Even Foggy was interested now, snatching the deck that was now in the centre of the table. Matt shrugs again, hanging one arm around the empty chair next to him.
“I don’t cheat. Most people give away their hand as soon as they open their mouth. You just have to know the tell. Poker is just a waiting game.” He says it casually like winning every single poker game he’s ever played is the simplest thing in the world. “Plus, like you said. It’s not like I can look over your shoulder, can I? How would I cheat?”
“Well, whatever it is, I hope it fails, because I need to start paying off this tab if Josie’s gonna serve us anymore.” Foggy deals out the cards, and you watch Matt intently. He never even picks up his cards, just sits there with one hand wrapped around his beer, head turned in your direction. “Alright, Karen?”
“I’m out. I’m running out of money.” Foggy boo’s, and she laughs, sliding off her chair. “Maybe if my boss’ paid me more, I’d be in.”
“Okay, ouch.” Foggy pouts, but deals your cards, skipping over Karen’s empty seat. “Matthew, you start.”
“I’m in.” He smirks, his free hand lightly tracing around the edges of his face-down cards. “Your turn, sweetheart.”
“In.” You look at Foggy, and he sighs, pushing in his money as well.
“Last round. I’m all in.” All in doesn’t mean a lot to Foggy considering he’d only had about two chips and a one dollar bill left, but you and Matt still had a fair amount. Both of you match his bet, and he flips over another card. “Well, fuck.”
“See? Everyone’s got a tell.” Matt laughs and you roll your eyes. Foggy chucks his cards in the centre.
“Anyone could tell Foggy was gonna lose.”
“Hey! I had a fair chance about an hour ago.” Leaving both you and Matt laughing, he turns to go find Karen. “You two kids get home safe, okay?”
“I’ll look after her.” He says, his head still angled towards you. Your grip on the cards in your hand gets a little tighter, and he taps his finger on the table, asking you to flip another card. “Come on. You aren’t giving up yet, are you?”
“Definitely not.” You flip the last card, and it’s a King. The one you were looking for— you had a full house. A strong hand, but you didn’t want to give yourself away. You say nothing, remembering what Matt said earlier, and he smiles after a beat of silence.
“You aren’t talking to me now?” He teases, leaning over the table on his forearms to get a little closer to you. He smells like beer and cedar— a strange combination, but somehow intoxicating on him. “You know I’m gonna beat you anyways. No point in getting all quiet on me.”
“Shut up and make your bet, Murdock.” He’s still got that smirk on his face, the one that says he’s going to beat you before you’ve even put your cards down, and he matches your bet, sliding a few bills into the centre. “Showoff.”
“Just trying to impress you.” He was making it increasingly hard to keep a poker face, and you know he couldn’t see you but somehow it felt like he could see straight through you, like he knew how every one of his sweet words ate away at that feeble resistance you’d built up to try and keep him out. “You can fold if you need to. I promise I won’t hold it against you.”
“Does this whole act usually work for you? The girls eat this shit up, don’t they?” He shrugs, leaning back and leaving his still turned down cards on the table.
“Most of the time.” You push in double the amount of money he bet, and somehow he knows exactly how many, because before you’d even sat back he was matching the bet, smiling sweetly at you.
“How?!”
“How what?”
“How do you know you’ll win?” You lean forward and he moves too, mirroring you and nearly meeting your hands in the centre of the small table.
“I can’t give away all my secrets.” You roll your eyes and lay your cards face up on the table. He doesn’t so much as flinch, both your bodies still leaning towards each other.
This part of the bar was quiet and secluded, and you swear if you angled yourself just right no one would even be able to see you from here. The thought drove your brain to a whole lot of dirty thoughts you had been trying your best not to have about your literal boss, and you physically shook them away. When he spoke again, you had to squint to focus.
“Wouldn’t be fair, would it?”
“Oh, piss off. Let’s see what you have.” You deflect, holding out hope you could still make something of this game. Still smirking, he keeps his head angled towards you, reaching over and sliding his cards to you. You’re hesitant to take them, and he knows it.
“Help a guy out?” He reaches out to the wrong spot on the table, a clear ploy to get you to flip them for him. He was delaying this— dragging it out because it was fun to him, and as much as it sucked you were losing money, you’d probably empty your wallet if it kept him this close to you.
“I’m not falling for your helpless act. I’ve seen you in a court room.”
“Indulge me.” Deciding not to delay the process any longer, you flip them all over in one go.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” A royal-fucking-flush.
“What is it?” He says smiling, keeping as close to you as possible.
“A— you know what? I’m not even going to tell you.” He breathes out a laugh, leaning back finally, and it’s only when he’s sitting in his chair again that you manage to get your head screwed back on straight. “Now I’m really out of money.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Happens to the best of them.” You scoff. That’s the second time he’s called you that, and it seems to make you fidget in your seat more every time.
“Just means you have to cover the tab.”
“Don’t pout.” Instantly you steeled your face, and just as you were about to ask him exactly how he knew, he spoke again. “I tell you what— you want your money back, we can play a new game. All or nothing.”
“I feel like this is a trap.” He laughed, the sound drawing you in like some kind of siren song. You leaned forward again, reaching out for your money on the table, but he was faster, his own enveloping yours. His hands were rough and large, and you couldn’t peel your eyes away from how you practically disappeared underneath him.
“It’s not a game we can play here, though.” You swallow hard. You’d always flirted with Matt— it was easy, and honestly the best part of your day was seeing that playful smile, or even when his ears got a little pink when you got particularly close to whisper something about a case.
But this? He’s talking about leave a bar with him. On a Saturday night. To play a game. You chugged the rest of your beer, needing the liquid courage.
“Alright, Matthew. I’ll indulge you. What kind of game are you talking about?”
“Poker.” Laughing, you watch as he gets up from his chair and grabs his jacket, already resigned to the idea you were both leaving. Now.
“We are playing poker.”
“It’s not that kind of poker.” He’s right next to you now, edged between you and the chair cemented to the floor next to you. He was so close you had no choice but to lean into him, not that you could think of anything else you’d rather be doing.
“Not that kind of poker?” You say softly, and he hums. The sound vibrates through his chest, and you resist the urge to flutter your eyes close and just listen to him talk. Something about his voice has you floating on air, and it’s part of the reason he’s so hard to resist. He just never stops talking.
You jump slightly when you feel his hand brush against your shoulder. You were wearing a silk dress that hung off your shoulder, so he took his time, grazing along your soft skin. His fingers carded through your hair lightly, and to top it off, he brushed the hair back, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck, tilting your face upwards gently.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were suggesting something unprofessional, Mr. Murdock.” His face splits into another smile, but his hand drops from your skin. Instantly you feel colder without his touch.
“You tell me to go to Hell right now and I will. No hard feelings. You’re a good lawyer, and I won’t mess this up for you.” Now you understand why he stopped touching you. Matthew Murdock— self professed people reader, was unsure if he’d read this situation right. The thought occurred to you once to fuck with him a little, but when you looked up at him and saw how tight his jaw was, you melted a little. That tiny wall of resistance you’d built up was crumpled from the inside.
“And if I say I’m interested in this little game?”
“Then I’d say I’ll meet you outside. Balls in your court, princess.” He presses a light kiss to your cheek, and you nearly get dizzy from the gesture if you hadn’t seen him grab your money as well as his off the table before he disappears into the crowd.
You call after him, but all you get is a shrug and a laugh that is unmistakably his as he disappears into the crowd. You don’t move for a second— your heart screaming at you to get on your feet and follow him, but a small, stupid part of your brain tells you to not. He was your boss, after all, and you needed this job, but it was also Matt.
You knew he was a little bit of a lady killer— Karen and Foggy making a thousand jokes at his expense which he managed to laugh off. Even with clients he always managed to win the girls over with his charm, but as much as people talk about it, ever since you came around you haven’t seen him so much as flirt for more than a few minutes with anyone but you. Sure, you weren’t with him every second of every day, but between the late nights and weekends spent in his office to getting lunch and sometimes dinner on your days off, even Foggy had made a few passing comments about how he’d staved off women.
You didn’t have a leg to stand on to get jealous even if he did— but it made your heart stutter in his chest to think you had something to do with it. He was always showing up with an extra coffee for you, walking you home if you had to stay late, paying you endless compliments… and the way he spoke to you, teasing but never cruel, always making you laugh even when you hadn’t slept for 24 hours.
Really— your decision on whether to follow him out was made months ago when you first met him. The moment you saw that stupid smile and the first time he said your name; you nearly took the chair with you with how quick you jumped up to find him outside the bar.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“I’ve never been to your place before.” You listen to the sound of Matt pouring you a glass of wine as you hang your head off the back of his couch. You have to squint to block out the streaming colour of light that shines through the giant windows; hues of pink and blue billboard warped from the rain that was coming down outside.
“It’s an acquired taste.” He taps your leg and you shift to sit up, him sitting close next to you handing you a glass. “You like red, right?”
“I drink anything as long as it’s free.”
“This one’s on me.” You laugh into your glass, taking a long sip and enjoying the burn that comes with it. It tastes expensive, and you expect nothing less from him. He’s facing you, one arm lazily hanging behind you on the couch, and your heart is racing even without the wine.
“So, did you really invite me up here for a game of poker, or was that just a ploy to get in my pants?” His laugh fills the quiet apartment, and he leans forward to pull out a drawer, his hand reappearing with a deck of cards.
“I never say no to a pretty girl in my apartment, but if you want your money back, you’re going to have to play me for it.” You snatch the cards from him, shuffling them dramatically.
“And tell me why, exactly, we couldn’t play this all important game in the bar?” You watch him carefully, how you always do when your alone, and you see his tell tale sign. The slightest hint of red on his cheeks, just at your question. “Matthew?”
“You’re out of money, but we’re still playing poker. What do you think we’re betting?” Now you were the one blushing.
“So this really was a ploy to get in my pants.” You try to sound nonchalant, confident like he always manages to come across as, but your voice shakes a little at the end of your sentence, and you were still shuffling the cards even though they were way past ready. You quickly put them on the table and down the rest of your wine.
“Can you blame me?” He asks lowly, and you cross your legs, ignoring the heat that grows in your stomach. “Listen, you know I love these games we play, but I don’t want you to—“
“If you’re bitching out now, I can take the money in credit or cheque, too.” He stops talking, mouth open a little, and scoffs out a laugh. The last thing you wanted him to do was think you weren’t a hundred and ten percent here for whatever he wanted to do with you. To you. Shit— that wine was going straight to your head.
“Alright, you asked for it. I was gonna go easy on you, but…”He sighs and shakes his head, and you roll your eyes, dealing the cards.
“Sure you were. Pick up the cards this time.” You all but shove them in his hands, and he takes his time pulling away from you, smiling like he could feel your pulse through the small touch and knew how much he affected you.
Looking at your cards, you tried to see a way to win with what was on the table. You had nothing, really, but he didn’t know that, and you still had a chance. Besides, if he wanted to play that kind of poker, you were positive you wouldn’t have to rely on the cards to distract him. If you could keep your thoughts under control.
“It’s a real shame you aren’t going to win, you know.” You bait him, and his head tilts up from where he was pretending to be looking at his cards.
“And why is that?” You shift in your seat at his voice. Again.
“Well, I dressed up all pretty for tonight.” You flip over the next card on the table, and suck in a breath. “And it’s just a shame you won’t get to experience that.”
“You know the point of this game isn’t to keep your clothes on. No matter how pretty you are in that dress.” He flips over the final card, and you bite down on your lower lip. You have nothing. Nada.
“Exactly, but the best part of my outfit isn’t the dress. It’s what I’m wearing underneath.” His eyes close, and you watch as he sighs and lets his head fall back.
“Can’t believe I was going to take it easy on you, sweet thing.” You can’t stop the grin on your face as he looks up at you like he’s in legitimate pain. “Play your cards.”
“Ohh, so serious now!” He manages a small ‘hm’ and although you were joking, he doesn’t seem so playful anymore. The look on his face was more akin to what he was like in court— focused and ready to win at all costs. “Don’t pout.”
“You’re bluffing, aren’t you?” He says, and you feel his hand on your opposite shoulder, the arm laying around the back of your couch sneaking closer while you were distracted. You shuffle slightly closer, allowing him the space.
“I thought you knew everyone’s tells.”
“You’re a little harder to read than most, I’ll admit it.” You make a noise in surprise, but he just shakes his head. “That doesn’t mean I won’t take you apart just as easily.”
“Guess you’ll have to play your cards to find out. Unless you want to fold?” He laughs, breaking up the tension just a little, and while you two were inches away from each other, he tosses his cards half heartedly onto the table, face up.
“How’d I do?” He leans closer, taking the extra space when you turn your head. You feel every word he speaks on your skin, lips not even an inch away from being on you. You could hardly keep your eyes open, let alone focus on the cards.
“I think you win this round.” You manage, shakily exhaling as you practically feel his smile on your neck. The hand that was around the back of the couch leaves you completely, while the other slowly creeps up the bare skin of your arm, making you shiver. “Th-three sixes against a four of a kind.”
“Hmm. Unlucky.” Shallow breaths were the only ones you could take with him this close. Gentle fingers find the soft material of the strap of your dress, hooking under it loosely. You told yourself you didn’t wear this dress for him— but you knew how it would feel. Silky and smooth against your skin, if he couldn’t see how good you looked in this dress, he would damn well feel it.
He slowly drops the strap down your shoulder, then the other hand encourages the other side down. You use your arms to keep the dress up, making him work for it a little, but as soon as he tugs lightly at the hem you let the dress fall over your breasts.
Matt’s hands feel the lace of your bra, lingering a little longer than he had to. Then he flattens his palms on either side of your rib cage, pulling the dress lower. He feels every curve and ridge on your body, and you can’t take your eyes off his face. He was enamoured— completely lost in the feeling, so much so that his eyes were shut tightly, even the light was taking too much away from the sensation.
“Matt, hurry u—“
“Shh. Let me enjoy my prize.” He finally leans closer, a soft kiss to your collarbone nearly melting you into the couch.
His hands reach your hip, and then get a little more aggressive, fisting the soft material and pulling rather than guiding. You shimmy your hips and let him drag it down your thighs. He seems reluctant to move past the faint excuse for underwear you were wearing, but eventually the dress falls to the floor, and he sighs.
“You were right.”
“About what?” His hand catches your chin, thumb pressing on your bottom lip lightly.
“You are even prettier like this.” Your knuckles were going white with how hard they were trying to stay at your sides, but now you were half naked, and he hadn’t so much as taken his jacket off.
“You think so?”
“I fucking know so. And these—“ The hand on holding your face to his is still on your hip, and one finger hooks under the lace. “—these for me?”
“You haven’t won that yet.” He presses his forehead to yours and groans, and then leans back, but doesn’t go too far. “Your turn to deal.”
“Fine.” He frowns like a little kid who just got told he can’t have ice cream, and quickly swipes up the cards. It’s only then that you notice these ones— his personal set, have braille on them.
“You can read these ones.” You say, and he nods.
“This game is much more important.” Biting your lip so hard it’s probably bleeding, you watch his talented hands quickly sort and deal the cards. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m cheating.”
“You’re so funny.” You squint, and he smiles.
This round is much faster. He’s clearly in no mood to fuck around anymore, and makes every opportunity to touch you now you’re sitting in front of him in nothing but a few strands of lace. In front of anyone else, you think you’d feel insecure, or at the very least cold, but with the way he’s acting like he’s starving for you— it has enough heat in that look to warm you for an entire winter.
You actually have a good hand this time, and to your surprise, you win. Your Aces beat his fours, and he takes off his jacket.
“That is hardly fair.”
“Are you trying to get me to take my clothes off? Because that is entirely unprofessional.” You want to laugh, but what you want more is to tear off the buttons on his shirt and— “Your cards, sweetheart.”
“So, are you going to tell me how you know you’ll win?” You take them quickly, trying to ignore how you missed him reshuffling the deck completely because you were too lost in your thoughts of fucking him right here, right now. What else was going to happen here, though? It was the anticipation that was driving you wild— the inevitable burn of what was months in the making.
“You really want to know?”
“Please.” He smiles again, flicking through his cards.
“I can hear your heartbeat.” You laugh, and he faces you again.
“You’re kidding.”
“It gets faster when you’re winning.” You look down at your cards— another solid hand, and you think he might of had something to do with that.
“I don’t think th—“
“It’s getting faster.” He leans closer again, tilting his head like he could actually hear you internally losing your shit. He was right— it was getting faster, but it had nothing to do with the cards. “You have a good hand, don’t you?”
“Maybe?” He laughs, and his hand touches yours. You watch as his hands— the hands you’ve spent way too many hours looking at, and they read your cards.
“Shit. I’m starting to think you might be cheating.” He starts unbuttoning his shirt, but your hands reach out, stopping him.
“My turn.” Keeping your hands on top of his, you relish in his surprised expression as you swing your leg over him. He all but gasps when you sit your weight down fully, the underwear hiding nothing from him or you as you press yourself against him.
Your fingers are as soft as his were, moving his tie to the side while you slowly undo each little button. When a new one opens, more of him is revealed, and every inch of unexplored skin has you nearly panting. Not to mention the way he’s holding you, his hands roaming the bare skin of your back and hips to pull you closer.
When you finally reach the bottom of his shirt, you nearly rip at it trying to remove it, but Matt takes it from you and slips out of it within a second, throwing it away somewhere behind you. Your hands are gentle as they slide up his chest, trying your best to avoid the scars that might still be painful. You had no idea he had so many scars— the image of him shirtless is even more alluring now.
“I don’t want to play games anymore.” You whisper, and his hand is already tangled in your hair when you finish, hauling your lips to his in a hungry kiss. Its fiery and hot, everything burning at once. You wrap your arms around his head and in one motion he stands, a small squeak of surprise coming from you as your legs wrap around his torso.
You couldn’t stop obsessing over the feeling of his skin on yours, the way he felt so warm against you; how his hands were rough and gentle at the same time, grabbing and pulling at any part of you they could find purchase. Eventually he stopped moving and your world fell backwards, landing on soft sheets and being encased by Matthew Murdock.
“Matty…” You whine into his mouth and he hums against you, his tongue opening you up, taking control of every single breath you take. Your eyes flutter open when he moves lower, kissing your jaw, and you inhale sharply when his teeth bite lightly at the sensitive spot on your neck. It felt electric, almost, the way he followed the harsher touch with gentle kisses and soothing hands.
“Fuck, you liked that? My sweet little fucking thing. Thought about this every day.” He groaned the confessions against your skin, leaving you helpless to do anything but moan and squirm underneath him. You were at his mercy, and you were pretty sure if he didn’t fuck you soon you’d implode. “You’re beautiful. Beautiful.”
His hand slips from your side down between your bodies, quickly finding the spot between your legs that has you nearly screaming his name in the first ten seconds.
“Oh God, more—please.” You beg shamelessly, rolling your hips into his hand as he takes his time drawing slow, firm circles on your clit. His other hand holds your hips down, making you whine in protest.
“I know, baby. Feels good?” You nod quickly, eyes squeezed shut.
“I need you—“
“You’re so fucking pretty like this. You want me to take these off? Have I won these yet?” He whispers, that casual confidence thick in his low tone.
“Anything you want. You w-win.” He tugs at the now ruined fabric, and you practically beg him to get rid of them, a mixture of ‘pleases’ and ‘yes’ in high pitched tones must convince him. He quickly slides them over your knees before his hand returns to your clit, making your legs shake with how close you are. He had you on the edge with just one of his talented fucking hands— but then he drops down, shoulders forcing your legs apart and buries his face in you. You hardly have time to realise what’s happening before your hands are threaded through his hair and your hips are fighting in his hold to stay still.
“Fuck, Matt!” You scream, and he only wraps himself further to you, hooking his arms under your thighs and holding you on him. When he takes your clit in his mouth you lose all sense of reality, and are shoved towards the edge of consciousness, white hot pleasure stripping you bare. “God—“
“You taste so fucking sweet— cum for me. I want to hear you say my name like that again” He murmurs into you before going back to driving you into the hardest release you’ve ever felt build before.
“Matt. Matt—“He holds you so tight you couldn’t squirm away if you tried, and when your orgasm washes over you, you all but drown in it. Electricity shoots up your spine and your back arches, hands gripping Matt’s hair hard enough that you feel him groan into you at the feeling.
“Harder.” He moans into you, and you were still so lost in your own pleasure that you couldn’t do anything but obey— nearly yanking him upwards, but he just moans again and takes everything you give him.
He only drags himself away when you jolt at his touch, kissing his way up your stomach, chest, and this time when he gets to the fabric of your bra he lingers longer, taking his time to enjoy the feel of the lace under his fingers. When he starts kissing your neck, leaving a multitude of hickeys you’ll never be able to hide in the morning, you notice at some point he’d taken the rest of his clothes off.
His hips slot between yours and he’s fucking hard— the feeling of him pressed against you makes you gasp. He was bigger than you’d expected, and every so often his hips would move slowly, running the length of him through your wet folds making you whimper into his mouth again.
“You okay, sweetheart?” His voice was gravelly and layered with restraint— hands gliding up and down your side, grounding you.
“Perfect, Matty. Please…” He kisses you again, gentle and sweet, nodding as he slides himself into you. You gasp into each others mouths at the feeling, and he pulls back, watching your expression melt from a little bit of pain as he waits and kisses you, to pleasure, taking the hint of your nails in his shoulders to start moving slowly.
“Oh, fuckfuckfuck— so fucking good. Jesus Christ.” He moans in your ear and you shiver. It was always his voice that drove you crazy, but hearing it now, so broken and not put together like he always is. The words hit you in the chest, pleasure blooming in every single one of your veins, overtaking every part of your body. “So tight.”
“Right there. Harder, please Matt. Please…” He holds you tighter as he does what you ask, and your whimpers turn into screams as he fucks you into the mattress without another thought. Your eyes must roll back or close because you lose the sight of his face, but all you need is to hear him.
“Good girl. Good..fucking…girl.” Hearing the way he says your name, all drawn out and heavy— how he whispered how he wanted to fuck you for days, how he thought about ducking you at your desk for just as long as you secretly did. Everything about him, mixed with the brutal pace he fucked you with hurtled you into another wave of pleasure, screaming his name so loud there’s no way the rest of Hell’s kitchen didn’t know exactly who was making you feel this good.
“There you go, baby. Gonna…fuck— gonna cum. Sweet fucking thing.” His hips stuttered and you were still cumming, every word spurring you further out of your mind.
“Give it to me, please please please—“ He buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you felt the warmth of his release on your stomach and thighs. He was still breathing praises into your skin even after he pulled out, wrapping you into his body, not caring about the mess you had both made. He couldn’t find the care to let you go.
When you had both finally caught your breath, he dropped beside you, curling your body to fit perfectly against the front of his. His hand tangled in your hair, lips pressing to your forehead and cheek as he used his own shirt to clean you both off gently. You were both far too lost in each others mouths to do it properly, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck. You’d gladly spend the rest of your days losing hours in Matt Murdocks mouth.
“Stay tonight.” He whispers, voice cracking.
“Only if you admit I won.” You can feel him smiling against your skin, the sensation sending a different kind of warmth all the way down your spine.
“Yeah. You win.”
2K notes · View notes